#The few things I have made have been fucking fantastic

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Rafe was so hot this season. Need more of him plsss Can you do Topper sister reader getting caught touching herself and then they start sexting and she ask him to fuck her? reader is 18, of course!

I have a few more Rafe requests in the work. Please keep them coming, I miss this man (and JJ!!)

Warnings: 18+, smut, brother’s best friend, sexting, daddy kink, protected p + v, 

—

Rafe never bought your sweet and innocent bullshit you put up in front of people. He knew that under your appearance, under the preppy clothes, the big doe eyes and the angelic laugh, you were anything but innocent. 

Him and Topper have been friends for over ten years, and have been hanging out almost everyday. He watched you grow two feet taller, and when your little girl body turned into a woman’s. He saw you. He studied you. 

It wasn’t until that afternoon the boys came back from the golf course that Rafe had his confirmation. Topper told him to use your bathroom since the main one was being reconstructed, thinking you weren’t home, but when Rafe walked into your room, he saw you naked on your bed, humping your pillow. It wasn’t just any pillow. It was the one with the face on it ��� a pillow pet, you had called it. The nose of the turtle was rubbing perfectly on your clit, drawing out the softest whimpers and mewls. 

He watched for a few seconds in silence as you rocked down on the pillow back and forth, a smirk curling on his lips. 

‘’Having fun here?’’ he said in a teasing tone, snapping you out of your bubble.

‘’What the fu—’’ You turned around, startled, and saw Rafe standing in your doorway. ‘’Rafe! What are you doing in my room?’’ 

‘’Just needed the bathroom,’’ he explained. His eyes trailed down your body, seeing it for the first time. ‘’Didn’t know you were busy.’’

You threw a plushie at him, hitting him square in the chest. ‘’Get out!’’ 

Rafe laughed and obeyed, closing the door behind him. ‘’If you want to do some naughty things and not get caught, you should lock the door.’’ 

୨୧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖୨୧

Since that afternoon, Rafe couldn't help but shift his eyes to you whenever you were around. Now that he knew what was underneath the skirts and girls tops, his imagination had free rein. He was careful, though, making sure your brother never caught on —Topper would kill him if he knew the things he was thinking about you. He made it crystal clear to Rafe and Kelce: you were off-limits.

You didn’t care about your brother’s rule though. Rafe was your brother’s hot best friend. Every girl in Kildare was begging to get in his pants — and now you got it too. But it didn’t cross your mind until the other day when he walked in your room. Maybe it was because you’d always known him, seen him as a kind of second big brother. But now? That image had changed, and there was no going back.

One evening, Rafe was hanging in his bedroom, ready to go out with nowhere to go since Kelce had bailed on him for a Tinder hook up. The asshole. Rafe was annoyed, but there was nothing he could say to make Kelce choose beers over sex. To be fair, He would choose sex too.  

He had texted Topper, but he was at Ruthie’s, which meant Rafe was completely on his own tonight. He’ll probably smoke a bit of weed and watch some porn later, a cozy evening. But Wheezie was still home and Rafe promised her he had quit smoking. 

As he waited, his phone buzzed on his bed where he left it. Rafe picked it up, confused when he had received a picture from an unknown number. It was a faceless girl in a delicate sheer pink cami, and her tits looked fantastic. He frowned as he typed ‘who’s that?’. Must be a mistake.

A reply came five seconds later.

You: You don’t recognize my tits Rafey?

Instantly, he knew it was you. It was a nickname you gave him when you were younger. No one but you called him that — Rafey. 

Rafe: How did you get my number?

You: Stole it from Top’s phone 🤭

Rafe: Naughty girl 

You: Did you like it?

Rafe: Like what?

You: My pic! 📸

You: [picture attached]

It wasn’t the same picture. Not exactly. This time, your sheer cami was pulled up and your tits were completely out. 

Rafe cursed and ran a hand through his hair. How did that happen? It was clear that you sent this picture with the intention of initiating something with him. But why was this happening now? What made you go and send him a picture of your tits tonight? You never flirted with him before, or showed signals that you were interested. 

He reached down to rub himself over his pants as he typed a reply. 

Rafe: Fuck those are nice 🥵 

You: They’re cold…🧊❄️ Can you come warm them up? 

Rafe had to do a double take when he read your message to make sure he hadn’t misread it. Can you come warm them up? It was right there on his phone screen. He looked down at his pants, tented and tight, and groaned. He wasn't sure if he should go through with this or not. Did he want to go to you? Absolutely. Should he break his best friend’s trust for a good fuck? 

Rafe: As long as you warm me up too. 

He sent a picture of his tented pants, which he was incredibly hard under.

You: Waiting for you 💕 

 ୨୧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖୨୧

When he arrived, Rafe turned off the truck’s headlights and made sure the neighbors didn't see him. The lady that lived in front of the Thornton house was a country club member and loved to spread gossip around. It wasn’t unusual for him to be at the Thornton’s, but Topper’s truck was not in the driveway. 

The last thing he needed was her spying through her curtains. 

You were sitting on your bed in a pair of panties your mom didn’t know you owned and your pink cami, waiting for Rafe to show up. Tannyhill was seven minutes away, he shouldn’t be long.

‘’Hi, Rafey,’’ you greeted with the most innocent smile and doe eyes.

Rafe shook his head, tsking. ‘’Uh, uh. Don’t play that game with me.’’ 

Your lips curled into a smile. ''Took you long.''

He rolled his eyes. ‘’What’s the hurry? Are your parents coming home soon?’’ 

You shook your head. ‘’I’m just so fucking horny.’’ 

Rafe laughed out loud. He never heard you speak like that, so raunchy and bold. 

You stood on your knees and lifted your cami off, leaving you topless. Your nipples were peaked and pretty, as if greeting Rafe. ''Are you gonna come and warm them up?''  

No need to ask twice. Rafe pulled you onto his lap and put his large hands on you, groping and playing with your tits. His calloused fingers kneaded into the soft flesh expertly. He found your hardened nipples, pinching and rolling them between his thumbs and forefingers, causing you to whimper at the sensation. 

‘’You like when I give your tits attention, uh?’’ he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

You nodded, shifting so your needy cunt would come in contact with Rafe’s rock hard erection. He noticed what you were trying to do, and a smirk played on his lips before he attached them to your neck. 

‘’Can't get enough?’’ Rafe asked between kisses. ‘’Didn’t know you were such a needy little thing.’’ His hips rocked up into yours, grinding his thick cock against your clothed cunt. 

The friction sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, making you whimper and cling to his shoulders. ‘’Rafe.’’ 

‘’I'm going to fuck this sweet cunt until you can't walk straight,’’ he promised darkly, nipping over the sensitive spot where your pulse raced, making you gasp and arch into him. 

You’ve thought a lot about Rafe touching you these past days. You knew from overheard conversations with the boys — and talks around the island — and that he was experienced, that he knew how to please a girl. He had a reputation. And goddamn he didn’t disappoint. 

One of his hands left your breasts to slide down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your panties to rub over your folds...which were slick with arousal. Rafe groaned. ''Fuck, you're already soaked.'' He rubbed slow circles over your clit, feeling how swollen it had gotten. ''Did you grind on that turtle of yours before I arrived? Turtles are an endangered species or some shit, can’t torture them like that.’’ 

A laugh bubbled out. ‘’Rafe…’’ 

‘’What?’’ 

‘’Don’t want you to make me laugh. Want you to fuck me,’’ you said, looking right into his blue eyes. 

Rafe raised an eyebrow, holding your gaze. ‘’You want my cock, babygirl? Want me to fill this pussy up real good?’’ His fingers dipped lower, teasing your entrance before pushing inside. 

Your walls clenched around him. 

‘’Rafe…’’ you whined again. 

‘’Okay, okay.’’ He kissed your jawline sweetly, then removed his hand from your panties and swiftly stripped them down your legs. ‘’Might keep these as a keepsake,’’ he joked, holding your lacy thong.  

If you hadn’t been so horny, you would have argued with him to get it back — you didn’t have many and you really liked this pair  —, but all you could think about was the beast in Rafe’s pants pounding into you and making you scream. He could get you on your fours like a dog or fold you like a little pretzel if he wished. 

You just needed him.

You reached for his belt and worked to unbuckle it, but Rafe pushed you back and told you to bend over your vanity. His request surprised you, but you complied. The cool air on your wet cunt made you shiver. You never tried that position before. 

You could hear the sound of Rafe undressing — the rustling of fabric, the undoing of a zipper and the clinking of his belt buckle on the floor. You wanted to look at him — at his cock, more precisely —, but he was already behind you, a hand on your back, making you lean down lower, and nudged your legs further apart. 

The air leaked out of your lungs in a squeaky rush when he pressed the tip, gently tearing through your tight walls. The sensation had you gripping the edge of your vanity. 

‘’You okay, baby?’’ he asked with genuine concern in his voice. 

You nodded. ‘’Y-yeah.’’ 

Once the first uncomfortable thrusts passed, you forgot about the initial pain and felt the pleasure flow through your body. Rafe gripped your hips tighter, fingers digging into your soft skin as he picked up pace. The vanity creaked, a rhythmic beat that matched your increasingly frantic movements.

Your tightness enveloped him like a vice as he pounded into you mercilessly. Christ, you felt incredible. Each deep stroke dragged a gasp from your lips, and he reveled in the sounds of pleasure you made.

''You feel so fucking good, baby,'' he grunted, gripping your hips and digging his fingers into your soft flesh. ''Is this what you wanted when you stole my number through Topper's phone? For me to fuck your tight cunt?'' 

Tears were pricking your eyes, your mouth hanging open while wanton sounds kept spilling out. ''Yes, Daddy!'' you uttered out.

The word slipped without noticing, sending a jolt straight to Rafe’s cock, making him throb inside you. ‘’That's it, baby,’’ he growled, even more turned on. ‘’Let Daddy know how much you love being fucked.’’

He pistoned into you harder, the force causing your breasts to bounce with each thrust. The obscene slapping of skin against skin echoed through the room, adding to the soundtrack of your other sounds. It looked like a scene straight from a spicy booktok romance.

Rafe brought a hand around your neck, forcing you to look up. “Look at yourself.”

You lifted your eyes to the reflection in the mirror. It was a view that was erotic. Seeing yourself nude and flushed along with him, and feeling it at the same time was nearly mesmerizing. The look on your face was hazy, strained, and blissful, eyes half-lidded and lips parted. You locked eyes with Rafe through the mirror, and he kissed below your ear.

Behind you, sweat was sticking to Rafe’s smooth chest, but he didn't slow down. He must have really good stamina. You locked eyes with him through the mirror, and he kissed below your ear. 

‘’Are we putting on a good show?’’ he asked, his voice hoarse and low. His words made your cunt clench around Rafe like a vice. He threw his head back with a groan, his whole body tightening. ''Fuck, you're gonna cut my blood flow if you keep squeezing me like that.''

You wanted to stop, but you couldn’t. You had lost all control of your body, gasping and clenching and rutting hard against Rafe until you came with a drawn-out moan. You shivered through your orgasm and Rafe's steady thrusts. 

When he started to shake, you swallowed hard and found your voice. ‘’Come on, Rafey. Fill me up. Cum deep in my pussy, Daddy!’’ 

That pushed him over the edge, his whole body spasming, cock forced all the way in and filling up the condom. Your chest heaving, trying to catch a breath as he rode out the high, grunts and groans leaving his lips. 

You've never heard anything sexier. 

When he was finished, Rafe pulled out and stepped back, leaving alone on your wobbly legs. You started to lose balance, and quickly grabbed the vanity's edge.

‘’Shit, you good?’’ Rafe asked, his tone hovering between concern and smug satisfaction.

You gave a small nod. You just needed to sit. 

His eyes scanned slowly down your body. ''Fucked you that good, uh?'' he said with a smirk, teasing. 

You shot him a playful glare, going to sit on your bed. ‘’Fuck you, Cameron.’’ 

Rafe laughed as he removed and tossed the condom in your trash. ‘’Just did, Princess.’’ 

God. Could he be more exasperating?

He checked on the way back, reading something that made him frown. ‘’Eh, I gotta go.’’

‘’Now?! We just fucked.’’ 

Although this was a casual fuck and that it’s usually how it ends, you didn’t want him to leave right after. You didn’t expect him to cuddle, but you had hoped he would stay a little. To talk or watch something on Netflix. 

Rafe dressed quickly, explaining that Wheezie needed to drive her to her friend’s house because Rose’s car was not starting. 

Before exiting your room, he called your name. ‘’You sound so pretty when you cum.''

Your cheeks flushed and you hid your face with a pillow. ''Rafe...'' 

The corners of his lips curved into a smug smile. He wasn’t done. ‘’Oh, and I liked when you called me Daddy. It's hot.''

—

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[alastors-wife]

Kinda miss sharing my art ngl

[bootleg-nessie]

Rating band names based on their accuracy:

(I keep updating this list so check back later)

The Beatles: 3/10. None of these people are beetles, they’re just a bunch of fruity guys from Liverpool with matching haircuts

(Edit: changed from 0/10 to 3/10 because John Lennon beat his wife)

Pink Floyd: 4/10. There is not a single person named Floyd in the band, but some of the members do arguably look kinda pink

Nirvana: 10/10. Getting high and listening to Nirvana is roughly what I imagine actual nirvana to be like

Foo Fighters: either 0/10 or 10/10. I have never seen foo in real life so either they’re pretending to fight a problem that doesn’t exist or they’re doing an absolutely fantastic job of fighting it

The Eagles: 0/10. Same as the Beatles, there is not a single eagle in this band. The name is misleading and we have all been lied to

Queen: 6/10. Partial points for Freddie Mercury

Led Zeppelin: 0/10. I don’t think any of these guys have ever even seen a zeppelin, let alone one made of lead. A lead balloon would crash faster than my hopes and dreams

The Rolling Stones: 3/10. There is not a single stone in this band. Some points added because I’m pretty sure they rolled quite a few

U2: 0/10. Despite what the name says, I am not a member of this band

Metallica: 9/10. Naming a metal band ��Metallica” is like naming your dog “doggy”

Red Hot Chili Peppers: 2/10. These guys are not chili peppers. They’re not even that hot, let alone red hot

Guns N’ Roses: 0/10. How the fuck could a gun or a flower play music

Backstreet Boys: ?/10. Depends entirely on their current given location

Simon and Garfunkel: 10/10. No notes

The Doors: 1/10. Jim Morrison is kinda shaped like a door tho

Chicago: 4/10. The number of people in this band does not come even remotely close to the population of Chicago. Points added because it originated in Chicago

Earth, wind, and fire: 2/10. This is even more innacurate than Chicago. Points added because wind instruments were often used

Def Leppard: 3/10. There is not a single leopard in this band. Some of the members are probably kinda deaf by now tho

The Beach Boys: ?/10. Accuracy depends entirely on location

The Black Eyed Peas: 6/10. Not sure what the hell an ‘eyed pea’ is but the black part is pretty accurate

Imagine Dragons: ?/10. Depends entirely on whether or not they’re thinking about dragons.

Cage the Elephant: 1/10. Why would you do that. Let the elephant go

Green Day: 0/10. They’re not even green

The Police: 0/10. There is not a single cop in this band

KISS: 5/10. I’m sure they probably kissed sometimes

The Monkees: 0/10. Are you fucking kidding me

We Butter the Bread with Butter: 8/10. I can’t verify this but I have no reason to suspect that they’d lie. Butter seems like the most logical thing to butter bread with

King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard: 0/10. I got really excited about the concept of a lizard wizard only to be let down. My disappointment is immeasurable

They Might Be Giants: 5/10. I googled everyone in this band’s height, the tallest guy’s only 6’1 so I wouldn’t exactly consider him a giant. Then again, I can’t really argue because the claim was only that they MIGHT be giants

The Presidents of the United States of America: 2/10. None of these people are Joe Biden nor are any of them former presidents. This is incredibly misleading. I’m pretty sure “Lump” was written about my first girlfriend tho so I’ll give them a point or two

Gorillaz: 2/10 Not quite but we’re kinda close genetically so I’ll give them partial credit

The Killers: ?/10. I have no way of verifying if they’ve actually killed before but the fact that they’re not in prison tells me probably not

The Offspring: 10/10. These guys are definitely somebody’s offspring

Arctic Monkeys: 1/10. They are neither monkeys nor are they from the arctic

Thirty Seconds to Mars: 1/10. It takes WAY longer to get to mars than that

Beastie Boys: 8/10. They’re pretty beast on the guitar

Jimmy Eat World: 1/10. Slow the fuck down Jimmy, you’re biting off way more than you can chew

Hole: 9/10. One point deducted because I’m pretty sure they had more than one hole

Rage Against the Machine: 10/10. They did exactly that

Alice In Chains: 0/10. This is illegal. Let Alice go

The Band: 10/10. This could not possibly be more accurate

Nine Inch Nails: 1/10. I can’t find any good pictures of their feet but from what I can tell their fingernails definitely aren’t nine inches long

Bush: ?/10. Not quite sure about this one, felt uncomfortable asking

The Who: 2/10. I’m not dealing with this “Who’s On First” bullshit

Radiohead: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a radio for a head

Queens of the Stone Age: 0/10. This band should be called “five random dudes from the modern era” but FRDFTMA is a bit of a mouthful

Soundgarden: 2/10. Sound does not grow in the garden

Sonic Youth: 5/10. They’re not exactly youth anymore but the sonic part checks out

Talking heads: 8/10. There’s more to the band than just a bunch of disembodied heads but the heads do tend to talk

The Cranberries: 0/10. Decent music but I only added them so that the Beatles and Freddie Mercury weren’t the only fruits on this list

The Wiggles: 8/10. They do tend to wiggle a lot

Blue Man Group: 10/10. Yep!

Weezer: 5/10. They all look like they definitely have asthma

Limp Bizkit: 3/10. While the visual image of baked goods playing the guitar is hilarious, Fred durst is not a biscuit. Points added because he probably has erectile dysfunction

Stone Temple Pilots: 0/10. None of these people are accredited as being licensed to pilot anything, much less an entire stone temple. Stone temples don’t need pilots anyways

Wasted Youth: 8/10. I guess it really kinda depends on how you frame it but yeah, they probably wasted a lot of it

Them Crooked Vultures: 3/10. These are people and not birds but Dave Grohl’s posture is kinda bad and John Paul Jones is so old that his neck kinda looks like a vulture’s so I added some points

Audioslave: 0/10. Slavery is illegal

Traveling Wilburys: 4/10. Sure, they traveled a lot but not a single one of those lying bastards was named Wilbury

D12: 6/12. There were only 6 people in this band

NWA: 10/10. I’m a little too white to safely comment on this one but I’d say they nailed it

Jet: 1/10. A real jet would be way too loud

Goldfinger: 0/10. Not a single person in this band has a finger made out of gold

No Doubt: ?/10. I can’t really be too sure how Gwen Stefani felt but I think it’s probably a safe assumption that she had some doubts

The White Stripes: 3/10. I bet if you stripped them down naked and made them stand shoulder to shoulder and squinted really hard they’d probably look more like white stripes

Screaming trees: 3/10. They scream occasionally

Garbage: 2/10. I think they’re being a little harsh on themselves, their music isn’t THAT bad

Butthole Surfers: 5/10. Not even gonna touch this one

Megadeth: 3/10. To be fair, some of the former members are dead but only a little amount of death, not mega death

Dead Kennedys: 2/10. Last I checked Kennedy was still dead but neither he nor his clones are members of this band

Cake: 0/10. The cake is a lie

Cracker: 8/10. Most of them are

Tool: 7/10. I don’t know much about their music but they sure look like tools

Counting Crows: ?/10. Is this what emo kids do instead of counting sheep? Accuracy depends on whatever bird they happen to be counting at the moment

Dave Matthews Band: 10/10. It certainly is

Oasis: 1/10. Their music is the opposite of an oasis

Blur: 2/10. They are not that fast

Barenaked Ladies: 0/10. If I wanted to be this disappointed I’d reestablish a connection with my biological father instead

Meat Puppets: 10/10. Technically, aren’t we all?

Live: 8/10. Apparently they still do live shows but I deducted some points because I’ve only ever heard their music on Spotify

ABBA: 9/10. I’m still not giving any points to Guns N’ Roses but that’s mostly out of spite

5 Finger Death Punch: 8/10 I guess it probably depends on how hard you hit them but this seems to be the usual amount of fingers to punch somebody with

All American Rejects: 9/10. They’re all rejects from America so I don’t really see any issue with this

T. Rex: 0/10. Even if any of these people WAS a T. Rex I don’t think their arms would be long enough to play their instruments

Free: 0/10. Unless you steal their music, in which case it becomes a 10/10

The Strokes: 3/10. To my knowledge, none of them have had a stroke but I still added a few points because the name was probably accurate for other reasons

The Smashing Pumpkins ?/10. Another thing I have no way of verifying but this seems like a waste of perfectly good pumpkins

Therapy?: ?/10. The hell are they asking me for? I don’t know their medical history

Twenty One Pilots. 0/10. There’s only two of them and neither is a licensed pilot

Finger Eleven: 0/10. Leave the poor Stranger Things girl out of this

Fall Out Boy: 9/10. I conferred with an expert on this one who confirmed that they are in fact boys who had a falling out

Cream: 8/10. Considering this was the OG supergroup I’m sure a lot of people did in fact cream when their music came out

Edit: humans aren’t fucking monkeys. Stop saying we are

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Am I placebo effecting myself or is the caffeine actually working

[caffeinewitchcraft]

AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied to me about his human job?

I (542 vampire) and my husband (260 vampire) have been together for a little over two centuries. There’s a saying in the vampiric community that it takes a century for a tryst to become an enduring partnership and another century to become soulmates. I thought that was true and that Matthew (using his real name because fuck you, Matthew) and I would be together forever…until this week.

First, let me explain a few things to the mortals here. I don’t mean that negatively – I came here specifically to get the opinion of those with a finite lifespan. However, I want to be fair to Matthew as much as possible and some of his decisions are very immortal-minded.

Both Matthew and I are vampires who have chosen to forsake some of our powers in exchange for the ability to daywalk. We made the transition together on our 100th anniversary almost 115 years ago. It wasn’t an easy transition for me. I was very dependent on human blood and I spent the first twenty years in almost constant sleep as my body adjusted to running off of less lunar magic and more solar magic.

It really felt like I was losing everything. My body got physically weaker and my powers began to disappear one by one. It felt like every time I woke, another part of me was missing. One day I could turn into a wolf, the next I could barely turn into a vapor. I could command a legion of undying servants, and then I could barely convince the mailman he didn’t see me levitate down from the second floor.

Matthew, however, took to daywalking like a werewolf to a sheep farm. He barely seemed to feel the pain of losing his power, maybe because he was so much younger than me. Whatever the case, he was out all the time once he stabilized. He would be gone for days sometimes and when he came back it was with fantastic stories about the humans’ new inventions or the new structures being built in whatever town we were in.

I’m not saying I regret transitioning. Just that Matthew and I had very different experiences. It felt like he barely changed at all while my entire being got rewritten. Being immortal makes you comfortable in your own skin. I never doubted myself or my power after I turned 100. But becoming a daywalker made me feel like I was being born as a human again. It was humiliating and vulnerable. I have to admit there were times I resented how easily Matthew did it. I blamed him for not supporting me like I thought he should. I would daydream about draining a human in front of him, showing him what I thought of his fascination with them. I had all sorts of vile and vengeful thoughts. I’m not proud of the person I was and now I’m grateful Matthew wasn’t there to see the lows I sunk to.

Despite all my awful thoughts, I didn’t quit. I don’t know why, but I didn’t. I stuck with it and, day by day, things got easier.

After 26 years I began to stabilize. The benefits of being a daywalker slowly blossomed before me.  Now I can say that I am completely happy with my daywalker status and all the changes it’s brought.

I am the most mentally stable I have been since my Turning in 1482. It’s like I’m awake. The fits of rage that used to consume me for months at a time have completely disappeared. I don’t experience the same level of obsession I used to which has freed up a lot of my time that I used to spend stalking my victims.

However, that drastic of a change would be challenging in any relationship. Matthew and I ended up together because of my obsessive nature. Our relationship became strained when that part of me went dormant. He expected me to follow his immersion into the human world just as I had followed him in his revenge quest against his Master. He expected me to support him wholeheartedly and with everything I was. He wanted sacrifices from me that I used to not even flinch at before making. But something was just…different. We wanted different things. I wanted different things.

Matthew was obsessed with being the perfect human. He craved full immersion. He still makes it a point to get a human job every twenty years or so. Me? I’m happy to live off our investments and some mild mind control while enjoying the art and theater community the humans have evolved.

It got bad. Some years, we spent like ghosts in our own house, drifting by each other without a glance. Other years, it was like we were spies behind enemy lines. He would do whatever he could to thwart me and I would go out of my way to ridicule him. Our vitriol poisoned the earth. Matthew didn’t speak to me for a full decade when that poison killed off an entire town.

About twenty years ago, it all came to a head. We had a serious sit-down talk about our relationship. It wasn’t easy. What they say about teaching an old dog new tricks is sometimes true. Matthew wanted me to be as involved with the humans as he was. He wanted me to care about them like he did. I wanted him to travel with me like we used to and not just hop from town to neighboring town (which he did to maintain a human identity with references so he could keep working). When it became clear that we were at an impasse, I brought up the idea of separation.

Separating in the vampiric world isn’t easy. There are a lot of alliances and blood oaths to be considered. Over the two centuries we spent together, we became known as a unit to a number of supernatural entities that we maintain an uneasy truce with. Separating would mean creating new oaths and alliances with the same individuals. And there was no guarantee that those individuals would make new pacts with both of you. A LOT of vampire couples end up in blood feuds while separating. Neither of us wanted that.

There was also, of course, the emotional side of things. While a lot of immortals tend to only feel muted emotions (especially vampires as old as me), Daywalking had made both of us more sensitive than we’d been before. We were both attached to the memories we shared and neither of us could imagine life without the other. After 200 years together, it felt like Matthew was my right arm, and I his. When I brought up separation, we both felt it like we were discussing an amputation.

After about a year of talking, we finally reached an agreement. We didn’t want to separate, and so we would compromise. I wouldn’t interfere with any of Matthew’s human jobs for the 15-17 years if he could hold them without arousing suspicion. In exchange, he would take a year off to go traveling with me before finding another town for us to live in. In between my trips, he would go to plays and galas with me to enjoy human artistry at least once a month.

Maybe our deal was in his favor. At the time, it felt practical and fair. A year of traveling wouldn’t undo Matthew’s string of connections. We would still see each other frequently by going on dates that I liked. Matthew would get to stay immersed in the human world at the level he wanted, and I could stay within my comfort zone.

Which brings me to my current problem.

We are currently at the start of one of Matthew’s work cycles. He’s been everything from a fireman to a politician to a subway worker to a barista. He craves knowledge and connection to a terrifying degree. If it weren’t for how we move every 20 years and he goes without protest, I’d call it obsession.

This cycle, Matthew told me he was going to be a teacher. I was hesitant. While the humans have become more tolerant and less violent over the years, that doesn’t mean they will tolerate us near their young. Enough humans know about vampires that staking in the modern era is a real possibility. Matthew could incite an angry mob against us or, heaven forbid, get a vampire hunter on our tail. I have yet to be shot, but I hear that they have silver bullets that hurt like Hell.

When I voiced my protests, Matthew reminded me about our agreement. He said that I wouldn’t interfere with his jobs and he’d go to all the plays I liked. He even pointed out that, as a teacher, he could get us into high school plays and expositions. I was uneasy, but agreements are penultimate to immortals. I silenced my objections and let him get a job as a science teacher at a local high school.

When Michael has had jobs in the past, I’ve never really paid attention. One time he was a state senator for ten years and I never even heard him speak. I didn’t consider it worth my time to hear whatever his facsimile of a human would say. Real humanity is in the art they create, not in the parody Michael enacts.

But this one…I couldn’t ignore this one. Maybe it was because I was still uneasy about his proximity to human young or maybe I could sense his lies even at the beginning. Whatever the case, I watched him.

The first thing I noticed was the hours. He would go to work early and would often come home when it was time for us to sleep. When I asked him about it, he said that he wasn’t used to grading and that he had underestimated what it took to put a good lesson plan together. I visited some online forums and that’s apparently reasonable for first year teachers.

He would also sometimes go in on the weekends. He missed one of our dates because there was a “grading emergency” that needed his immediate attention. Something about a student’s test getting lost and then found and he needed to input their grade before the deadline which was on Saturday. Humans like silly rules like that so I didn’t even look that one up. I just reminded him that he couldn’t miss our dates again or else he was breaking our deal. He apologized and said it wouldn’t happen again.

Then about three months into his new job, the phone calls started. We have a private room in our house for when we need to talk without any visitors overhearing. Michael moved all his school supplies in there, saying that he needed a silent space to concentrate on his grading. Whenever he got a call, he would never answer it in front of me. Instead, he’d say “Sorry, work” and just go into his office.

I also noticed that he didn’t dress very professionally. Human fashion changes quickly so it didn’t register at first. A sweatshirt here and there slipped past me, and also the Gucci slides. When he started wearing baggy jeans and jerseys to work, I noticed. I may not be up to date on all the newest fashions, but I do go to classy events. I know what a slob looks like and it didn’t sit right with me that he was wearing that to school. When I asked him about it, he always had an excuse. “This is what everyone wears” and “It’s a theme day” or, bafflingly, “It’s spirit week!”

I tried to leave it alone. The reason we have stayed together for so long is because of our agreement to not interfere in each other’s lives. But between his hours, the phone calls, and his appearance, something didn’t add up.

Then, last Thursday, he missed another one of our dates. We were supposed to go to the Nutcracker together. Even though I prefer matinees (when the cast is fresh), I agreed to get us tickets for the evening show so that he wouldn’t have to leave work early. When he wasn’t there at 7pm, I called him and he didn’t answer. Then, when I called him again, his phone was switched off.

I was furious. I spend nearly two decades in these tiny towns so he can live his human fantasy and he can’t even show up for one two hour show? It was the first time since becoming a daywalker that I felt that angry. I was scared about what I might do, so I made myself go home to wait for him.

Only, he never came home that night. At 3am, he sent me a text apologizing and promising to make up our date on Saturday. But the Nutcracker was only playing until Friday and that would be too little, too late. To be honest, it already was. I texted him that and he never responded.

He never ended up coming home last weekend. I texted and called him probably a dozen times and he never responded. I got angrier and angrier as the days dragged by. Did he think I was someone to be taken lightly? Did he not realize that the fragile agreement between us was all that was keeping us from separation?

Yesterday (Monday), I couldn’t take it anymore. If he wasn’t going to come home or respond to my messages, then I would go to him. If he was so obsessed with this new job that he would ignore me for it, then I knew exactly where to find him.

I arrived at his school at 10am. I researched enough to know how to go to the office and sign myself in. I asked the office assistant which room Mr. Duetto was in.

The lovely young woman looked confused. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give that information out to anyone but family,” she said.

“I am his only family,” I said.

She clicked a few more keys and looked more confused. “His paperwork only shows his mother, Delilah Duetto.”

That’s right. His mother. But I still didn’t understand then.

“That’s me,” I said.

“You are not the mother of 17-year-old.”

“I’m his wife,” I said.

She was upset by that. I won’t bore you with every detail, but I had to alter her memories so she wouldn’t call the police. I may not look like someone who has a teenager, but I also don’t look like a teenager. I ended up having to alter her memories so she wouldn’t call human CPS on an apparent adult swearing she was married to a minor.

I went home and broke into his office. There weren’t any lesson plans. There were no graded papers. There were syllabus from different classes, homework with his name on it, and a few polaroids taped to the bottom of his desk of him at a party with children.

Human children. I don’t honestly know which is worse.

(EDIT: I know the child part is the worst part. I misspoke because of my anger. It’s not the humans’ fault that my husband is a pervert.)

I broke into his laptop and used that to check his text messages. He’s been texting like a high schooler. He’s been to parties with them, listened to their problems and even fabricated a few of his own. He’s caught in some sort of weird love triangle where a freshman girl likes him but his “best friend” likes her. He has texted both of them about it, promising his “bro” that nothing is happening and then turning around and leading this girl-child on.

Some choice quotes: I should know better than to get close with you. You and I come from very different worlds

To which she replied, lol maybe we should let our worlds collide

!!!!

I find the entire situation disgusting. Matthew is several centuries older than them and he definitely knows better. He’s literally wearing the sheep’s fleece amongst the flock. He has no business forming relationships with human children and even less pretending to be one of them. He’s not a baby. He is over two centuries old!

What is he doing flirting with a child? It’s vile and disgusting and I was set to kill him for it.

I confronted him about it when he came home last night. I told him that he was sick and dangerous and if he loved humans then he needed to stop immediately. I told him we either left town today or I would make sure he never set foot back in that school in a way he really wouldn’t like.

 He threw a huge tantrum over my invading his privacy. He shouted at me that I had broken my promise to never interfere in his job. He called me controlling and crazy.

I told him he was the crazy one for chatting up a child. He told me he wasn’t, she was just his friend. I asked him to read their texts out loud if he was being so friendly. I also pointed out that there was no way a 260-year-old vampire is a child’s friend.

He told me I was a hypocrite because I basically cradle robbed him (we’re almost 300 years apart.) He said if anyone was disgusting, it was me for taking advantage of him.

I pointed out that he wasn’t a child, he was over 60 and had already been a vampire for four decades. He argued that that was basically being a child in vampire terms.

I was so angry at that point that the house was shaking. I told him if he felt that way, then we could get divorced right then and there. That that was what I wanted to do anyway because I couldn’t be married to a pedophile.

He asked me if I was seriously going to start a blood feud over him immersing himself in human society. I said no, I’m starting a blood feud because he’s become every predatory stereotype humans have of vampires.

He called me a hypocrite again and told me he was leaving. He said not to call him unless I was ready to apologize. I told him that the next time he sees me, he’d better run before I showed him the real difference between us. And it wasn’t just 300 years.

When I calmed down, doubt started creeping in. From an immortal perspective, what he’s doing isn’t really wrong. I hate to say it, but most immortals don’t view human lives as significant. I know a few vampires who would say that divorcing because he’s playing with his food is idiotic.

Plus, there’s the agreement to consider. During our fight, Matthew pointed out that being a student is a job to humans. So therefore I didn’t have the right to interfere. A big part of me thinks that’s bullshit, but a small part of me wonders if he’s maybe right about that?

I also have to ask myself why this even bothers me. I’m the one in the relationship that is aloof from humans. I’m the one that’s always saying we are from different worlds (Yeah, he stole that from me) and for good reason. 

But over the years, I’ve become fond of humans. No immortal makes art like them. I may not remember my time as a mortal, but there are works that give me a sense of nostalgia. Sometimes I think I can remember being a child myself, standing in a field like in Monet painting, staring at the wheatstacks and waiting for the miller to come. 

The thought of Matthew playing with them makes me sick. It’s like even after all the years of him living amongst them, he thinks of them as props in his twisted play. It’s even worse that he’s doing this to children. 

I can’t help but think something went really wrong with my husband when I wasn’t looking. At the very least, I’m planning on divorcing him. But would I be the asshole if I killed him too?

 Separating from him will be violent and messy. There will likely be human casualties. But I don’t see any other way. So, I ask.

AITA for divorcing my husband for lying to me about his human job?

----

Thanks for reading! I loved answering some of the responses I got when I first posted this over on my Patreon (X)!

These collaborative story telling pieces are the highlight of my week. Next week's story is about a witch who wants to know if she should attend her high school reunion even though she's responsible for stripping two former classmates of their magic...

Please check that out here (X) if you''d like early access! Otherwise I'll see y'all next week :)

[writerpeach]

Fantastic Breasts and Where to Find Them

aespa Karina x m!reader

10k words

---

Read on AO3

Masterlist

"What time is it?" Karina asks as she stumbles into the kitchen, a half awaken mess, dark locks all disheveled in a white top and tight shorts. "Jesus, my fucking head..."

"Nearly one." 

"Shit," Karina hisses. "I had a test in the morning, didn't you hear my alarm go off?"

"You think I can hear anything over you snoring?" you ask, glancing up with a playful smile as Karina sits opposite you at the kitchen table, resting her face in her palms. "You barely made it inside before I had to lug your body onto the couch.”

"Hey, I don't snore," Karina scoffs, giving you a dirty look with bleary eyes as she runs fingers through her messy hair in a feeble attempt to look presentable.

"Oh, of course you don't. Which is why I could hear you all the way upstairs. Pretty sure the entire neighborhood could." 

"Shut it," she snaps back with as much bite as she can muster, though can't keep that grimace on her features for long before a tired grin escapes. "The last thing I remember is Yizhuo holding my hair up while I—well, you don't need to know the rest."

“Sounds like you had a fun night.” 

"Fantastic," Karina responds with all the sarcasm she can manage. Her gaze immediately turns towards the coffee maker—the only thing that matters during this hellish hungover state. 

“Coffee should still be warm,” you say, not missing a beat. “But take this first, it'll help."

Karina eyes the two painkillers in your hand with a grateful look as she scoots forward and reaches to accept a glass of water, tossing her head back a bit before chugging it all a single gulp. 

"You're a lifesaver. I'm so embarrassing, you shouldn't have to keep taking care of me. Thank you," she says with a quick smile, gently placing the empty glass down, then heading straight for the coffeepot.

"Don't worry about it. It's what I'm here for."

"You should have been there last night then, maybe could have kept me in check. I'll never drink that much ever again."

Karina cradles a freshly poured mug of hot coffee as she makes her way back to the table, taking a seat ever so carefully, trying not to fall over in the process. She rubs her temple in gentle circles, feeling like absolute hell as she tests the coffee with a sip of uncertainty.

"You've said that the last couple times," you tease, leaning back in your chair as you focus back on your laptop screen and the paper that you’ve been working on all day. "You know that's not really my thing. As much as I enjoy watching other people make an idiot out of themselves."

"At least I could have had someone to talk to. The only person I knew was Yizhuo, and she was so busy making out with anyone with a pulse that I didn't say more than three words to her."

"Yizhuo?" you ask. 

"You've met her, haven't you? She's one of my best friends." 

"Don't think I have." 

"Right, well—she'll sleep with anyone that so much looks at her," Karina chuckles as she savors the delicious warmth of coffee down her throat. She takes another careful sip and her eyes close, wondering if the throbbing in her head will ever subside.

"She's learned from the best, I suppose."

"Hey!" she says, faux offense laced in her tone, placing down her mug. "Don't compare me to that slut. I've got standards at least."

"Really?"

“I'll have you know, I don't sleep with everyone,” Karina huffs, turning her face away to sip at her coffee some more, but you can't resist the urge to tease her even further in her current state. "Just a few lucky guys. Sometimes two at once. Or three. But nothing crazy, I'm not a slut."

"Wouldn't dare even think of using that word on you, Rina." 

"See, not like Yizhuo at all, not desperate and willing to suck and ride anything in sight. Besides, it's been like over a month since I've last gotten laid,” she says, out of nowhere. You let out a dry laugh, unable to believe your ears. It's strange, seeing Karina's pale skin so flustered, because clearly even she can’t buy that. 

“I’m serious!” 

"The walls say otherwise, you know. You're a terrible liar, Rina." From first hand experience, you know how thin these walls are—being able to overhear her muffled cries of ecstasy, every vulgar utterance from Karina's room, each time she sneaks home a stranger who has the absolute honor of getting to pound her senselessly. 

"W-what, I'm not!" Karina blurts out, face getting even redder, so frazzled with that thought. "That—you were probably just hearing all that porn you keep on your laptop. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone about the weird, kinky shit you’re into.” 

Pausing for a moment, she gives an impish grin, so pleased with herself for trying to turn things around. You could call her bluff, but even better, you’ll come up with one of your own, something equally preposterous and absurd.

"Me? I don't even watch porn," you say somehow with a straight face, and it's such a ridiculous statement you can hardly finish getting the words out. Karina puts her mug down and brings her arms over her chest, letting out a small sigh before glaring across the table.

"Is that so? Now who's the terrible liar?"

"Believe what you want. This laptop is for school work only. Nothing else." 

"Didn't realize I was living with such a prude," Karina says, as a teasing grin slides along her features. "All those times I've brought home a guy to fuck my brains out—I guess I've been making you feel extra uncomfortable."

"No, not at all, Rina. I just focus on my studies instead of how loud I can hear you scream through the walls. Noise-cancelling headphones do wonders," you say, doing your best to keep a stoic expression on your face. But Karina isn't having any of your bullshit. Not when she's sitting across from you with a smug look and trying her damndest to get you to break this facade.

"Look," Karina sighs dramatically, turning her head to face you directly. "There’s no fooling me. You don't have to act like you don’t enjoy listening to me getting railed. And you'd be lying if you told me you've never been turned on from all that. Just admit you've touched yourself to the sounds of it, and we'll leave this alone."

"Can't say I've done that either."

"Stop—" Her brow arches in frustration, and she can't even hide the smile beginning to break along her lips. "I get it, you're a better liar than I thought. You don’t have to keep pretending."

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You think you deserve an award for not laughing your ass off at this point, but it's an ongoing struggle to keep this going. The best part is that Karina is so insistent on it, completely unwilling to let this go until she gets you to admit that she's caught you.  

"Oh, come on, you've jerked off at least once or twice while listening to me, don't play dumb. Like you said, the walls are thin. I can hear when you're getting off too, you know."

"You've got a wild imagination, Karina. I've done nothing of the sort. The only thing I care about is getting a good night's sleep and graduating with honors."

"Fuck that, no one can study constantly. If it wasn't for me getting railed on the regular, I wouldn't even survive. I'd probably drop out and become a bartender or something. Getting dicked down does wonders."

"Everyone has their own ways of dealing with stress. Sex obviously isn't mine."

"Stop, you're such a fucking liar," Karina almost yells, frustration bubbling up as her arms cross even tighter, unable to stop the laughter that slips out. "There's no way that you're studying, what, seven days a week, without getting yourself off? Everyone has horny thoughts, especially guys. I know there are hot girls in your classes, there's no way you aren't fantasizing about them."

"I’m not. Too busy learning about the wonders of—" 

"Shut the fuck up," Karina snaps in the most exaggerated tone, leaning forward, trying her hardest to hide her smile and fight whatever antics you keep coming up with. The longer this goes on, the more she breaks out into giggles. It's rather amusing seeing her get worked up like this, the little scrunched face she pulls and the exasperation that oozes from every word, knowing you aren't telling the truth one bit.

"You're not that studious. I've lived with you long enough to know that you're not the nerdy type. I'm right, I know I've seen you come home late. Don't deny it!"

"There's a really nice coffee shop that's by campus open rather—" you begin to say, not exactly sure how you haven't broken down laughing by now.

"Don't you dare tell me you're studying at one in the morning instead of getting your head trapped between some pretty girl's thighs," she interrupts in an instant, gaze piercing right through you. And no longer can you keep a straight face for another second longer, looking away to stop from grinning. But that might be a mistake. As you happen to glance back, Karina gets up out of her seat, this devilish expression as she strides around the table towards you. "If you aren't gonna be honest—maybe I'll just have to get the truth out of you."

Before you can even react, Karina swipes up your laptop with lightning speed and slams the lid shut, not caring for anything else as she drops her weight in your lap. It takes you by surprise, and by now, she has to know how close you are to breaking, deciding to pull out all the stops to try to win her little game of bullshit. "Oh, so you've suddenly gone mute."

And Karina gets impossibly close, staring into your eyes, enough so you have no other option but to look directly in her deadly gaze. She wraps her arms around the back of your neck, resting her hands there, a smirk curling up her lips as she tries to break your resolve all at once.

The way she looks at you is unbelievably seductive, which might be the reason your heart beats faster, with how gorgeous she is up close. That confident little smirk refuses to leave her lips, the scent of her perfume strong in the air, making everything more difficult to endure. It's impossible for you to hide all your weaknesses. And even more impossible to stash your sudden shyness while Karina traces light patterns upon your neck as she lets out another giggle when you start avoiding her eye contact.

"You're cute when you're nervous," she says, that deep voice dripping with nothing but sin and seduction as she takes your chin, lifting you towards her. It's difficult to look away or hide, with her looking right into your eyes—a sharp, penetrative gaze that you can’t flee from, especially not when she gets this close, feeling her warm breath on your skin. 

“Tell me—where's that confidence from a few minutes ago gone? A pretty girl sitting on your lap is all it takes for you to break?" Karina purrs against the shell of your ear, lips hovering dangerously close. 

You stay silent, muscles all tensed up, breathing audibly and wanting nothing more than to pull away. And it only gets worse when her fingers run lightly through your hair, messing it up playfully as her breath lingers. "Hm? Still not talking? When did you ever get shy with me?"

Karina knows she's won.

As she presses up against your chest, drawing ever so slightly nearer, it's in that brief second when the warmth of her body against yours completely overwhelms you. There's no defense left against her little game of interrogation.

"Let's be real, I know you're jerking off every chance you get, especially when I have a dick inside me," she coos with the most angelic smile you've ever seen, eyes brimming with delight, her touch following the path of your body and taking pleasure in seeing all the little reactions she steals from you.

"But there's nothing wrong with that. Hell, I want you to. The thought of you stroking your cock with the image of me naked and getting fucked turns me on. Knowing my loud moans and screams are the perfect inspiration for your orgasm—that makes it all better, doesn't it?" Karina brushes her lips right into the crook of your neck as she whispers all these obscenities, making damn well sure you hear every single word.

You’ve completely frozen up. It’s not like you to be so demure, but also this isn’t like Karina. 

"Oh, you wish it was you, don't you?” Karina asks, memorizing every detail in your expression. ”Poor thing, being stuck as my roommate—having to deal with the fact you aren't fucking me from behind, playing with my tits, and smacking my ass hard until my cheeks sting." 

Seeing the clear frustration in your expression puts a smirk on her face again, experiencing the thrill of finally having the upper hand on you. Karina knows she has all the leverage, right here, right now. 

"I know you're not the least bit innocent. Not with the way you looked at me when you saw me in nothing but a towel, fresh out of the shower, my naked tits still wet. I bet that made you jerk off right away, didn't it?"

"R-rina—" You finally manage to utter out her name after some considerable struggle, at a complete loss for words. Because this isn’t at all how you expected this to go, but she's right about every single detail, and you find it harder and harder to deny it. 

"What is it, sweetie? Have something you wanna say? Wanna tell me the truth? That you fantasize about me all the time, don't you?" And Karina keeps leaning in closer, getting all the answers she wants before you can speak another word. 

"Y-yeah, I—"

"Use your words. You can do that for me, can't you? Tell me all the things you can't stop thinking about." 

"Fuck, Karina—it's the only thing I think about in the mornings. And at night. Every single day. Even when you haven't had anyone over in a while, I just think about fucking you, what that body looks like naked, how those huge tits would look bouncing in my face.” 

You’ve cracked. And there’s no going back now. 

"Go on, don't stop there, sweetheart. It's too late to be shy now." Karina smiles so pleasantly and cups your face to keep you from looking anywhere else, her tone immediately shifting. "Tell me you wanna fuck me. You want my tight pussy to swallow up your cock until I can't walk properly tomorrow. You've always wanted that, right?" 

"Y-yes, god yes, that's—that's what I want. Wanna bury myself deep inside you, squeeze those perfect tits and fuck you so hard until I unload everything inside."

"See how easy that was? Turns out you’re not very innocent after all, are you?" And Karina seals your confession with a deep kiss, drawing you into a rather warm, heated embrace as she nips at the bottom of your earlobe, giving it the lightest tease before letting go. 

"Let's give you everything you've ever wanted, sweetie." 

Karina tears herself from the kiss, just so she can run her tongue along your bottom lip and get another taste for herself. A slight pant, and she doesn't waste another minute getting rid of her shirt, exposing her bare skin and massive tits no fabric can contain. 

Your pants, they grow tighter in an instant. Those huge tits, the deep cleavage—they're nothing but hypnotic. Karina watches you stare with wonder for several long moments before unhooking her bra to get the entire picture. You swallow hard, eyes going wide as her breasts spill out from their restraints, pale and so fucking perfect, and god, you can't even think straight from how absolutely delicious they look.

Karina leans back to unveil her bare breasts in full view, and even the slightest movement makes them bounce gently. They're practically begging to be touched, and there's no hope of looking away. "Are they everything you ever imagined?"

A nod comes almost automatically in response, captivated by those enormous mounds with the prettiest nipples you've ever seen. Your roommate takes hold of your wrists and leads you to feel every last inch of her luscious pair, right where she knows your fingers want to go. 

"Go on, show me exactly what you've always dreamed about, sweetie." Hardly able to believe what’s happening, you take the plunge as you indulge, these tits soft and supple in the palm of your hands. The full weight of her breasts is everything, Karina exhaling a breathy whimper when you massage them with a perfect grip, lightly squeezing, testing their sensitivity. 

“You don't have to be gentle. You've wanted to play with these tits so bad, right? Don't hold back now,” Karina says with such a sweet voice. So you take her permission to heart, getting two full handfuls of creamy flesh to squeeze greedily and grope to your heart's desire. 

You’re practically speechless. Nothing could ever match the way they fill your hands when you knead them, fingers digging into all that flesh to press them together, only to release and have them bounce, this recoil that seems almost unreal. 

"God, these tits—they're fucking incredible, you know that?"

"Oh these? I’m sure all those times you'd peek down my top gave me a clue you’d love them. And you haven't even had them in your mouth yet," Karina says as she reaches for the back of your head. In an instant, she shoves your face right into the delicious valley of her pale breasts, suffocating you with all the softness and warmth of her plentiful chest provides. Her huge tits completely consume your vision, and there is no fighting the urge to lick a stripe down that cleavage to take in the first taste. 

It only gets better as she encourages you, tightening fingers in your hair when you run your tongue around her stiff little nub before closing your lips around it, capturing it to suck softly. A delightful shudder rocks her, gasping loudly, and Karina guides your movements, keeping your attention spread out across both breasts to ensure the other isn't getting left behind.

"Good boy," she hums with all the satisfaction in the world, gripping harder when she presses you back into her chest, helping you indulge in this buffet that's been laid out before you. "You’ve been waiting forever for a chance to suck on these tits, haven’t you?" 

You refuse to answer with words, replying instead with more frantic sucking, the nipple between your greedy lips growing wetter and wetter. But your free hand stays occupied, as you squeeze the other breast not in your mouth not so gently, sinking into the softness even further. Hungrily, you move between them, feasting on those divine tits to satiate all of your desires, and you’ll suck on them forever if she'll let you. 

There's no better treat than the way she feels in your palms and all over your lips. Not now—not while all this lust floods your veins. Not while she whimpers, your actions gaining speed, faster and faster to keep Karina's sensitive nipples trapped in your lips and suck harder. She lets out her moans, a gorgeous sound that echoes, and you can feel every vibrating sound rippling through her ample chest.

"Jesus, your mouth is amazing," she breathes through all the gasps and the moans, all those noises a pure sign of encouragement that drives you forward, until you need a moment to draw a desperate breath. It doesn't stop there. You resume immediately, introducing a bit of teeth to nibble down into the smooth, pink buds, because like you've been told, there's no need to be gentle. Not when Karina clearly prefers it like that, tugging a fistful of your hair, hoping you'll get the message to apply just a little bit more pressure.

All of this attention you're giving her gets Karina nice and bothered, mouth hanging open as she pants to control her breathing. You could stay here forever, happily settled with a pair of tits stuffed into your mouth. Maybe she lets you. Maybe you spend an eternity exploring that delicious rack, because it can never truly satisfy your craving for them.

"Mmm, feels so fucking good," is how she answers your teeth dragging across those wet nipples, whining when it suddenly leaves, depriving her of your lips just you can stare longingly at the swell of her heavy breasts once again.

You have to admire your work on her sensitive breasts when you pull back, swimming in bliss as you see the sight of them glistening with your saliva, nipples so visibly hard and drenched now. There's no denying how much you love having Karina's huge tits all to yourself, how you just want to drown in all this soft, pale flesh. 

"Don’t tell me you’re done already?" Karina asks, disappointment in her tone while she strokes the back of your head. "I can feel how fucking hard that cock of yours is from just sucking on my tits…"

Once again, you have no response, still lost in a fog of lust as you squeeze those supple mounds, giving another tender lick to those nipples covered in spit to get the smallest gasp from her lips. "I could play with your big fucking tits all day.” 

Karina giggles, content to let you do just that. "Well, you've earned that, sweetheart. But I think we should move this to the bedroom, so we can get more comfortable, and maybe you can get me out of these clothes?” 

"Yeah—right, bedroom," you repeat, distracted by how tantalizing her perfect tits look still soaked with your spit. She laughs and offers up a hand to help pull you to your feet, taking the chance to sneak another kiss before you get too far apart.

You’re dragged along up to her room, left to gawk over her body as you follow obediently. Those shorts are just a bit too tight to hide any details of her curvy ass, which sways rhythmically with every last step. The second the bedroom door shuts behind you, Karina pulls you right into another embrace, a hot and needy kiss, your hands finding their place on her slender waist you plan to become familiar with. 

"Get me naked like you've always fantasized," Karina says the instant your lips separate, heading towards the bed without waiting for your response. You don't have to be told twice, too eager to find out how the rest of her body compares as she bends over, placing her hands on the sheets. 

The scene in front of you sends a rush of anticipation, and immediately, you reach for those ridiculously tight shorts, pausing a moment only to feel just how firm Karina's butt is under them. This all feels like a dream, one that you hope stays a reality as your eyes aimlessly wander all over this flawless skin. 

Her huge breasts push into the mattress, so soft and inviting, fighting for your attention from that backside, and this is already so overwhelming, before you’ve even seen what’s underneath here. 

"Taking your sweet time, hm?" she teases, rolling her hips ever so slightly, hoping to hurry your pace, a hint you gladly take without an ounce of hesitation. Undoing her zipper takes only seconds, and Karina's smooth, pale thighs become more exposed as you gradually peel her shorts down inch by inch. The curve of her ass nearly spills out from the pink thong you've seen for the first time, and this sight is almost as breathtaking as her massive chest.

"Only get to do this for the first time once." 

“You poor thing. Guess I can’t blame you.” Slipping out of her shorts with ease, Karina makes them drop to the floor where they can be easily forgotten. You're left frozen in awe at the perfection of her full, plump ass that looks far too good in this thong, and those creamy thighs that must feel like heaven wrapped around your head. 

"Come on, take my panties off too. You want a full view of this all, don't you?" Once you're done admiring her shapely ass, Karina turns her gaze over her shoulder, that smile far too much to deny. And as much as you want to keep staring, your hands already move on their own, desperate to finish what you've started.

Running your fingertips under the waistband, you tug that thin fabric right off, to reveal the fullness of those scrumptious cheeks and that pink, glistening pussy that looks too mouthwatering to resist. 

Now it all comes together. 

Karina is flawless, every deadly curve, every inch of milky white skin exposed, giving you yet another reason to stare at that sinful figure. There's no fighting the urge to squeeze what your fingers can sink into, taking a nice handful of her shapely rear that you can’t take your eyes off. It's an addiction without a cure, groping those juicy cheeks that are the definition of perfection, and you can't decide which part of her you want to worship the most. 

"Such a pervert," Karina giggles, and this time you can’t say you disagree with that. 

"Never said I wasn't." There's no point in denying what she clearly already knows, not when you can't look anywhere else. Not after being denied the privilege of her body until this moment—you've got some time to make up. 

"The first time you've seen me naked and all you can do is stare?" Karina quirks an eyebrow, putting her hand on her hips, to display that body deserving of all the praise you can give her. She closes the distance between the two of you in just a few short steps, grabbing hold of the collar on your shirt. "How about you show me something too while you're drooling?"

There's no hesitation on your end, knowing what’s expected as you pull your shirt over your head and drop it on the ground to join her clothes. Karina runs a fingertip along your bare chest, an approving smile spreading over her lips while her eyes glance over you carefully, this newfound hunger in her eyes. 

"Much better," she says, and now you're the one who's being gawked at, shirtless, under the gaze of your undeniably stunning roommate who can't help herself from exploring your body. You can’t say you don’t mind the attention at all. 

She traces the outline of your biceps, grazing along your shoulders, then down to your abdomen, leaving a faint, teasing touch to test the reaction she receives. And then, with no warning, those fingers move lower to palm your growing bulge so blatantly straining through your pants. 

"You're so fucking hard, it must be painful. But this time, I can help you with that. What do you wanna do with me, sweetheart?"

Where do you even start? Never did you expect to be caught in a moment like this, your roommate fully naked, stroking her hand along the length of your clothed cock, ready to finally do something about this pent-up tension she's caused. The possibilities are endless—but when Karina is looking at you like this, her fingers making your cock throb, waiting for you to choose, it's hard to think straight. 

"Can't decide? I don't blame you. But don't worry—I know just what we can start with." You don't have time to guess as Karina takes the lead and pushes you back towards her bed, patting the mattress. "Be a good boy and sit here, and I’ll take care of you."

Karina drops to her knees ever so slowly and licks her lips. Before you realize what's going on, she's pulling down your pants, boxers falling shortly after, and now she can see exactly what you were hiding underneath, this hard shaft that's been desperate to spring loose.

"Oh my god, your cock—it's gorgeous, sweetie," Karina gasps, staring right at your stiff shaft twitching impatiently just for her. 

There's barely a chance to process everything happening before she reaches forward, running a curious finger up the underside of your cock and watching the resulting shudder. Those pretty fingers wrap around your aching length, and Karina smiles up at you with pure delight in her eyes as she jerks your cock slowly, discovering all these new reactions you make. 

"Karina," you gasp out, almost choking, a shiver running down your spine at that light stroke—almost too fleeting for it to bring any pleasure. She repeats, with more enthusiasm, tightening her grip and using the clear liquid that leaks out to aid the movement of her fingers.

"Look at you, so fucking hard, throbbing so much for me. You like that? My hand wrapped around your cock?"

Karina has this look on her face that has no business being that damn innocent, not with those fingers squeezing you just right, or those huge breasts that shake ever so slightly with each pump of her fist. When she begins to pick up the pace, working you faster, twisting her hand up and down the length of your hard shaft, the urge to do anything but moan becomes near impossible. “You really do, don’t you? Well then, how about this—“

A string of spit falls onto your cock, smearing over her palm to slicken your shaft. She leans down to part her lips, hot breath hitting your shaft for the first time as she takes the entire head in her mouth and starts to gently suck, tongue working right behind. 

"Shit, oh my god, Karina—“ 

She’s got you in her sights, and there's nothing to do but surrender completely to the pleasure, eyes locked with her as she keeps those lips sealed tight, the wet warmth of her mouth engulfing you little by little. Karina's response comes in an instant, bobbing her head, slurping down on your shaft so greedily, showing all the appreciation you’ve earned. 

It's when her gaze flickers upwards to see your expression that it really becomes the death of you—the sight of her staring, with her round doe eyes, sucking and lapping around your shaft so eagerly is just too much to take. And if that wasn’t enough, her cheeks hollow out, every long pass making the view even better—this filthy slurping and sucking as her drool starts to run down your shaft, spilling from the corner of her lips to create the perfect picture. 

It's messy and wet, the sounds that accompany this sloppy blowjob only adding to the heat that's building. Her tongue doesn't stay dormant, sliding up and down and flicking around your swollen cockhead as she tastes what her lips aren't currently around. 

"Your mouth, god, your mouth feels fucking incredible—" is about all you can gasp. 

"Did you expect anything else?" Karina asks as she takes more of your cock, swallowing deep down without warning, bobbing faster and going just a little further to see how many inches you can handle down her throat. 

Her mouth feels like heaven, so slick and warm, with those luscious lips wrapped so tightly around your throbbing cock. A steady back and forth rhythm keeps up to take more, over and over, until every inch is nestled firmly into the tight grip of her throat. “I've been missing out on sucking this beautiful cock of yours—mmph."

Her mouth only gets messier as she slurps and swallows you down, resting her palms on your bare thighs, taking down your length with far more vigor than you could hope for. This blowjob is effortless on her end, a routine, and Karina doesn't pause to catch her breath or rest her throat—she’s driven, determined to keep her spell on you, without a moment where she even looks close to gagging. 

"How does that mouth feel on your cock, sweetie?" Karina asks. The words come so easy between slurps and sucks on your aching shaft, getting wetter from all the slick saliva that helps keep you buried down her throat. 

"So fucking good," you groan, tilting your head back, and there isn't anything else you could think of to properly praise this work. That's all Karina wants to hear.

"Then let me make you feel even better,” she tells you, flashing a wicked smile with a gleam in her eye that has your cock pulsing hard between her lips. Before you can question a thing, her mouth releases your slick cock, taking these lazy strokes to keep you nice and stiff. There’s a moment where nearly nothing happens, aside from her staring and pumping your cock. The silence lingers. Until finally, she takes your cock, hard as can be—

Karina guides it directly between her enormous breasts. You can hardly breathe, much less speak, and your jaw practically drops when you feel the soft flesh of her massive chest wrapped snugly around your shaft. Her hands come together, fingers interlocking, pressing those tits tighter against your length and that devilish smirk returns as she looks down at the surprise and joy in your expression.

And you can hardly believe the sight when she begins to rock her chest, trapping you between her tits with no chance to escape. The friction picks up, sliding the entire length of your cock with no intention of slowing down or stopping, and Karina stares right into your eyes, admiring the pleasure written all over your features to make sure you commit this to memory. 

With her tits wrapped so perfectly around your cock, you won’t last long. But that doesn’t matter. You’ll enjoy every second. Every delicate squeeze, every lingering moment her fingers massage the base of your needy, throbbing shaft. And when she spits between her deep cleavage to make the friction even better, a slicker mess for your cock to slide between, that’s how you start to lose it. 

“Jesus, Karina—feels so fucking good, oh my god.” It took so long getting used to the blissful suction from that pretty mouth, but this? There isn't any way to survive these full breasts that keep your entire length enveloped in such perfect warmth.

“Does it? Love how good your cock looks between my big tits." 

You can’t disagree one bit, because it looks almost as good as it feels. There's no describing how euphoric it all is, the way your shaft vanishes into that perfect valley of pale flesh with Karina squeezing firmly, grinding her chest up and down to let the slippery friction of her soft breasts coax those dizzying groans out of your mouth. "You love fucking my tits, don't you, sweetie?"

"Yeah—so much, this is just, fuck,” you moan, nearly collapsing back against the sheets at the intense sensations that jolt through your body. 

But Karina doesn't give you a chance to relax, quickening her pace, making your whole shaft throb with need as you continue to watch that massive pair of breasts move and bounce atop your shaft. She's loving this as much as you are, dragging out all these desperate moans that beg for more.

"Look how needy you sound—all because you get to fuck these huge tits," Karina teases you, grinding her upper body harder, massaging your achingly hard cock that looks devastatingly good sandwiched between her breasts like that. Your mouth stays open, but no words spill out, leaving room for more groans and she doesn't hesitate to keep that pleasure building and building with such intensity.

You know this can't last forever, but despite that, you're savoring this mind-numbing pleasure, doing what you can not to succumb and explode too soon. These tits are so soft, so warm, and you're throbbing so much from the friction alone, trying to delay the inevitable when your cock disappears and reappears between Karina's abundant cleavage. 

"Can't take much more—"

Karina smiles, smug and devious all at the same time as she doesn't bother to ease up, your stiff shaft begging to release all over those perfect breasts. There's not another moment to delay this endless bliss driving you mad, your balls tight and throbbing for an orgasm you can't ignore. "Are you going to cum, sweetie? Ready to make a huge fucking mess all over my tits?"

You're practically delirious, finding it harder to breathe, the weakest nod all you can give. But Karina can tell how close you are by how your cock endlessly throbs and leaks. She shifts forward again, squeezing as tight as possible, bringing you closer and closer to a long overdue release. All this delicious friction is too much, bringing that pleasure to the very edge, and when you look down at her again and share the next glance, the encouraging look in her eyes is the last thing that sets you off. 

"Be a good boy and cum for me. Cum all over these tits like you've always wanted to." 

That's all it takes. 

Your whole body tenses and stiffens as your climax swells up and hits you hard. With your cock nestled between her tits, you can see everything as the first blast of sticky, white cum fires up and explodes all over her pale skin, groaning with every spurt that splashes across her breasts and neck, one heavy, thick stream after another that leaves you shaking. 

Karina doesn't cease for one instant, her tits snugly pressed together as you fill up her cleavage with hot cum, keeping this explosive orgasm going strong. Her full lips part with surprise as your load leaves such a mess, this heavy warmth clinging all over her exposed skin, coating her deep cleavage nicely with that sticky sheen. Her breasts make you cum harder than you think you ever have. 

And even when it's all over, your load dripping down and oozing out between her huge tits, they stay where they are, squeezing it all out so she can ensure nothing gets wasted. Only when Karina is satisfied that you've been properly drained, your breath all heavy and weak, does she ease off, freeing your cock from her cleavage just to rub your sensitive tip against her hardened nipples to smear the warm mess you made. 

"Such a huge, thick load for me. You needed that so badly, right? Didn’t it feel so good to get it all out over my perfect tits?"

Words fail you, only able to muster a weak tilt of your head as you lean back, spent completely, eyes focused on the glistening mess on Karina's chest, all this cum that she wears proudly to put on a little show to display your work.

"Did I make you cum too hard for you to talk, sweetie? You poor thing, how long has it been since someone got you off like this?"

"D-dunno," you say breathlessly, watching her hand continue to work up and down your drained shaft, still twitching desperately, needing every second of her attention. "Can't remember—far too long."

"Oh baby, that's no good—this beautiful cock should always be given attention." There's no denying how right she is about that, but before you can even muster a sound in response, Karina is gripping your cock a little tighter in her hand to keep it rigid. While you stare at those beautiful, cum-covered breasts, the lust has hardly faded. "Think you can handle going again? Or does your cock need a little more time to rest?"

There's only one possible answer. As sensitive and sore as your cock might be after shooting a load all over those fabulous tits, your hardness makes its intentions clear when it pulsates with need in her hand. You'd be disappointed if you stopped now. 

"Need more. Need to be inside you, please," you respond, borderline pleading to finally feel what Karina's heavenly pussy feels like—how tight that immaculate grip must be. 

“Thought so. But there's no need to beg, sweetheart—now why don't you lie on the bed so I can ride your cock?"

You’ve never heard a more beautiful set of words. 

There's no second thought or hesitation. Karina is every bit willing to fulfill all your desires as you climb onto the bed and get comfy on the sheets. She crawls over on her hands and knees, but doesn't settle right into your lap. Instead, she presses her warm body atop your own, your naked flesh crashing together, those heavy breasts squashed tightly up against your bare chest as her lips find your own.

Her skin is so soft when you caress it, and the kisses come so abruptly, as does the hand that snakes down to lazily stroke your cock while she's busy letting her sweet taste linger on your lips.

"Tell me whenever you're ready, and I’ll take you inside me. This is just a nice little warmup," Karina promises in such a dulcet tone that you're tempted to respond immediately—but honestly, you don't know if you'll ever be ready for what she has in store. 

So you lie there, surrendering to those lips, and let yourself revel in this delightful warmth she presses against you. It's the kind of lackadaisical make-out session that could never end, with no urgent need to rush. Her kisses are slow and steady, lips claiming yours with the same care and attention her fingers give your stiff shaft, jerking you off at a deliberate pace that makes you leak more and more for her.

"Rina—" 

"Yes, baby? What do you need?" Karina responds as she pulls her face away, waiting for that answer, but doesn't dare stop pumping your needy, achingly hard shaft in her delicate fingers. "Need to be inside me, sweetie? Do you wanna know how good my pussy feels?"

"So badly, yeah," you answer with haste, nearly stuttering over the words as Karina pushes herself into a full mount to straddle your lap. She swings her thighs on either side of you, all spread out so you can get a teasing glimpse of her pussy while she gazes down at you with a sweet smile, your shaft aching against your abdomen. 

"Tell me exactly what you need. Wanna hear it from you, sweetie. Don't get shy on me now."

"Want you to fuck me—wanna be deep inside that beautiful pussy, want you to ride me until you cum. Please." The words  tumble right out, and it's all so embarrassing, but that's exactly what she wanted, isn't it? 

Karina takes your acceptance on her offer with a beaming smile, reaching behind her to grab your aching cock in her palm, keeping a firm grip as she positions herself to guide you inside. The anticipation hits its peak when she lifts her wide hips up, bringing you right against the warm entrance of her slick pussy. 

"Don't you worry. I'll ride you until we both cum." 

Before your next breath, Karina lowers herself—a slow descent onto your cock that spreads her pussy lips apart, sinking into that soaked, wet heat inch after inch. You're coated with all this slickness, and that tight cunt squeezes so goddamn hard as she works you deeper, breath shaky when you hit the deepest parts of her.

"Fuck—it's so big," Karina curses, shifting in your lap for the briefest pause to adjust, bracing herself to take more. “You still with me, sweetie? You’ve gone quiet again.” 

"How can I say anything, when your pussy feels this tight and incredible?"

Karina just laughs. The moment her hips lower again, she’s already in motion, gyrating on you, adjusting to the tight fit. There's no time to process it all, with that hot cunt sliding up and down your length. She doesn't tease, and her movements aren’t the least bit gradual, just the rapid rise and fall of her body.

“You fill me up so nicely, sweetheart,” Karina says, the praise sending you over the moon as she rests her hands on your chest for support.

It's every bit as mind blowing as you'd hoped it would be. Her wetness makes for an effortless movement of her hips, keeping a steady pace right off the bat that leaves you helpless beneath her. "Does that feel good? Do you like how my wet little pussy grips your big cock?"

You want to reply, but that pussy is so perfect, wet and warm all over your aching length. So all that leaves your lips is a strangled moan that has Karina lifting her hips up with more ferocity. You don't dare close your eyes for one instant as she rides you with that sinfully tight cunt, your shaft vanishing inside her slick entrance, over and over. 

Nothing surpasses this—to see Karina so beautiful on top, those luscious tits bouncing whenever she drops back down to fill herself up with your hard cock, only to ride up again and leave you gasping.

"Fuck, love being inside you," you say, trying your best to speak, but it's a challenge when her cunt gets tighter after each wild plunge. Those heavy tits move in motion with her hips, and the sight of her alone has you groaning as she gives it her all, relentless on that cock. "Can't believe how good your pussy feels, fuck—"

"Yeah? You like how I ride you? How I take your thick cock all the way in with ease?" she says, drawing you right back in. 

Karina doesn't stop. The pace gets faster with each drop down on your shaft. It's more than you can handle, watching that perfect body move so effortlessly as she takes you balls deep to make you groan beneath her, so utterly drenched and tight around you. 

You can’t take your eyes off her jiggling chest, how hypnotic the bounces of those breasts get, and this is the perfect chance to take them in your hands once more, squeezing and groping the flesh while Karina fucks herself harder on your cock.

"There you go, play with those fucking tits—squeeze them, smack them, do whatever you'd like." Karina gives the offer, and your fingers are already moving to obey, grabbing a perfect handful of those supple tits that can't even be contained in your palms. 

It's the distraction you desperately need, and the first slap to one of her pale breasts comes so quickly, the pliant skin rippling so nicely under the impact of your hand.

"Fuck, again—slap those fucking tits, baby, just like that," Karina demands, and who are you to deny her? There's not a thing to hold you back, taking turns to slap those wonderful breasts with enough force that they bounce against each strike, and they get so red under your fingers. Each slap gets harsher than the last, earning the best response from her—a tightening grip around your hard cock and loud whimpers whenever your palm makes contact with that supple flesh, turning her creamy skin a darker shade.

All this treatment leaves your cock dripping wet with Karina's slick juices, every part of you soaked as she keeps bouncing her gorgeous body atop your stiff length.

Her mouth stays open to voice her satisfaction with needy gasps and groans, every inch of her pussy stretched around your girth, keeping you deep. Those continuous smacks against her jiggling tits elicit the sweetest whines, reddened so beautifully from all this attention. 

Karina loves it all. So needy for your touch, for this sweet punishment she takes with all the desperation as you smack her tits while she rides your cock. Her movements, they’re hard to handle, hips slamming hard against you as that plump ass bounces on your cock, picking up all this speed. Fucking you harder and harder, those heavy tits never cease bouncing wildly, smacking together when you give a respite to let the sting linger. 

"Fucking love your cock inside me, sweetie—love it so fucking much," she tells you, hips rolling faster to keep the pace going strong, all this wetness and heat smothering you. 

And now you're content to just lie back, taking in the view while Karina rides you, how she takes every inch of your throbbing shaft like it belongs inside her. She keeps a perfect rhythm that buries your cock inside her tight pussy with every impale, so wet and slick when she brings those hips back up to start the entire process again.

"Gonna fucking cum, baby. Gonna fucking cum all over this hard cock. Can you last long enough?" Karina asks with a coy little smirk, not faltering for even an instant as she keeps fucking you, tight pussy clinging so harshly around your length. And to be honest, you don't even know yourself—but Karina seems determined to drain your balls, even if it has you finishing way sooner than you’d like. 

"D-dunno," you answer, knowing that with your hands on her body and those bouncing breasts so mesmerizing, there's only so long before you're pushing past the point of no return. "Probably not—"

Karina lets out a giggle in response that gets ripped right out when she takes you so unbelievably deep, all of your thick cock filling her up in the right way. She's so fucking tight, pale skin glistening with sweat in the light, adding to the view that could get you off from just the sight of her devilish body. "That's okay, sweetie. This cock feels too fucking good to stop."

The next few breaths are all a blur as this becomes a race to the finish. Your eyes stay glued to Karina, unable to look away as her hips move on autopilot. Amidst each movement, she moves quicker with every passing moment, that delicious wetness sliding along your hard length, bouncing her ass each time those thighs slam down on you. The bed squeaks and shakes beneath the constant, rhythmic impact, and you know this can only end one way—

"Shit, sweetheart, gonna fucking cum all over that dick, oh my god—" Karina falls over the edge first, and that cunt grips harder than ever like a vice, nearly unbearable, overflowing with arousal while she quivers above you. Her lips fall open as she looks down with half-lidded eyes, fingernails digging straight into your chest when it hits, every whimpering cry a lovely symphony for you to listen, to watch as it all happens, clinging for dear life while she climaxes so fucking hard all over your cock.

It's incredible, to see the way she loses herself completely to the pleasure, the mess that drowns your shaft while her tight pussy keeps spasming with every gush, and you have to grit your teeth to hold everything at bay. 

“You wanna cum in me, sweetie?" she asks, through ragged breaths, a proud look shining through the bliss on her face, still riding that intense high. 

A question like that only has one answer. 

"Y-yeah, so badly—wanna fucking fill you up," you say, with all the confidence you've ever had. Pushing herself into overdrive, Karina fucks you as fast as her body allows, this mindless, relentless motion of those hips that drives you to the very edge, those big tits bouncing wildly until there's no chance you'll hold back—not a second longer.

And then you fucking spill. You seize her body and keep those hips pinned in place, buried to the hilt as your cock pulsates and throbs inside her warm cunt. Everything fires all at once, flooding right into Karina, thick spurt after thick spurt as she watches the pleasure overtake you. Her walls clench down to milk it straight out of your throbbing shaft as your moans pour out, making sure this huge mess goes where it belongs while you pump her full of cum.

It feels like it’ll never end—so unbelievably overwhelming, your balls emptying right inside Karina, the relief of getting to blow your load inside her for the first time that keeps getting better and better. All your hot seed unloads into her warm pussy, filling her to the brim, and her euphoric gaze help your intense climax linger by the second. 

And when there’s nothing left in your balls, Karina still wears that blissed-out smile as she remains right on your shaft, the weight of her body coming to rest against yours. She weakly runs her slender fingers through your hair and kisses you tenderly, both sharing this moment of pure euphoria.

"Good boy..."

The weight of those words, they nearly make you blow again. 

Karina plays with your hair as she takes those sloppy, lazy kisses, with your spent shaft still nestled deep inside her dripping cunt. You don't dare move, or do anything else. She seems quite content to just stay there motionless, your bodies pressed so closely together as your cock stays warm in her pussy. "Didn't think you had that much left in you, sweetie. Fucked it right out of you, huh?" 

You're much too exhausted to respond, so instead you just lean in for more, letting those lips do what they do best, savoring the taste, the bliss, and all this sweat on your body and hers. 

It's in that moment the realization hits that your relationship has shifted. No longer do you have to listen to Karina get railed through the walls—because it's you who's in her bed now, naked, covered in sweat, with your cum deep inside her, and her lips feel so good on your bare skin that you don’t ever want to leave this position. 

"So—” she says, and her voice hardly sounds out of breath in comparison. “Do you wanna shower first or—do you wanna just go again?“ 

It's the most absurd thing to hear—as if she didn't just drain you, the evidence still deep between her legs. 

“Both."

Not the answer Karina was expecting, but one that leaves her more than pleased as she presses another kiss to your cheek before finally climbing off you. A few careful steps later and she makes her way across the room, your cum slowly trickling down her thighs. Not stopping to clean any of it, she just lets your load drip out as she saunters into the bathroom and leaves the door wide open. 

"Don't keep me waiting, sweetie."

✦ ✦

When you next get wrapped up in these sheets, it’s the exact same picture. But you’re the one on top, lips wandering all over Karina, fingers interlocked while she gets all giggly between kisses. The sweat is still there, and so are the handprints, but this time in a different location, imprinted all over her pale buttcheeks. 

And now you’ve learned that the view from behind is almost as impeccable as it is from the front, to see Karina bent over, those ridiculous breasts bouncing freely like there's no controlling them while you ram into her wet pussy. And then you cum, hard—inside her, of course, because how could you not when you’ve got both of her jiggly tits in your palms, squeezing that magnificent pair as you unload right into her pussy. 

With Karina, there’s no such thing as too much, or too often—not with that body. You make her cum on your face twice, and then she returns the favor moments after. This time, it’s all over her face, absolutely covering her, that fucking picture-perfect face that makes it seem like Karina isn’t real. But she is—and the way she smiles as your cum drips down her gorgeous features proves it.

No longer do you go to bed horny, but exhausted, with Karina lying beside you. Your own bed becomes neglected as your days and nights become spent in her room, listening to her fall asleep, head resting on those perfect breasts that put any other pillows to shame. 

Your mornings start with Karina, greeting her with your head buried between her creamy thighs while the coffee gets brewed. But she doesn’t need you to look after her when her head spins, because she doesn’t get as hungover anymore, with no reason to get drunk off her ass when she has you to help take the edge off whenever she needs it. 

It isn’t a relationship by title, but you certainly have all the benefits, the biggest one being your cum coating those big tits as often as it gets inside her pussy—

“Fuck me again,” she breathes in your ear one morning, seconds after you just finished all over her chest, your cock still painfully hard in between them. You’ve got your hands all over her messy tits when she asks it, fondling the soft flesh slick with cum, making shallow pumps between her deep cleavage, but her greedy little pussy calls to you. 

But before you slip out—a loud knock on the door interrupts out of nowhere. 

"Were you expecting someone?" you ask Karina, but her eyes tell you she's just as confused, face covered with sweat and her hair all disheveled from this hot and heavy session.

"No, I wasn't. Were you?" she asks in return, and neither of you pay it any attention. But the knocks continue, more urgent, more frequent. You don't think it's the neighbors coming to complain—that wouldn't happen this early, and you're mostly surrounded by other students and college grads anyway. "Ugh. Just ignore it. We can continue fucking—"

And that's what you both plan to do. It isn't until the knocks turn into full on bangs that Karina sighs and gives up. "God, fuck. This better be important."

You can see the anger and annoyance written all over her face.

Karina doesn't bother to throw a towel over herself before heading to the door in all her glory, naked and beautiful, still covered in your load, all the sticky, white mess dripping down her chest that she couldn't possibly clean in time before the door swings wide open—

Yizhuo.

It's fucking Yizhuo. Standing there at the doorstep. And there's Karina, all naked, and Yizhuo seems completely unfazed to see her without a shred of clothes.

"Hey," Yizhuo says casually, like this isn't the weirdest thing she could have seen standing in front of her. "Do you usually answer the door naked like this? Was there a fire?"

"When you won't fucking stop knocking and interrupting, yeah. What is it?"Karina sounds so angry that Yizhuo is almost taken back, and you just watch from a distance after slipping your boxers back on. 

"Well, I haven't heard from you in a while. Came to check how you're doing, you haven't shown up at any of the parties lately. Wanted to make sure you're still alive. You could have sent a message if you're too fucking busy to talk—"

"What? I'm not—sorry, I've had a lot of assignments, and—you know," Karina hesitates, stuttering to explain her absence to Yizhuo. She looks at you as if to plead for some support. "I-I'm...fine. Totally fine."

"Assignments, yeah, that's what it looks like you were busy with. Explains why you're all naked and sweaty," Yizhuo says, almost mockingly. But Karina just bites her lip and frantically waves you over.

"What the fuck were you knocking so loudly this early for, then?" 

"To make sure you weren't dead! That's it," Yizhuo retorts, and it's all too funny how this is turning out. Karina isn't even ashamed to have been caught—even more so when you stand at her side, half naked and covered with sweat, just like her. 

"Oh. Hi there, you must be Karina's new boyfrie—"

"He's my roommate!"

Yizhuo raises a brow at that, as if to challenge the excuse. "You have a roommate?"

"He moved in last year," Karina clarifies, with an exasperated sigh. But that isn't what Yizhuo cares about right now, or what she even wants to know—

"And you fuck him?"

"Yizhuo!"

"That's not a no. He's cuter than the last guy I saw you with. Does he have a name?" Yizhuo asks, turning to you instead, and she's all grins as you finally step forward to meet her. "You got a name, or is that only reserved for Karina to scream?"

"Okay, time to leave, you've seen enough."

Karina's more embarrassed than offended. And Yizhuo seems all too amused, but you don't miss that lingering gaze when she gives you a quick scan up and down, admiring all of you—from your bare chest down to your boxers. "Well, I'll let you two get back to fucking—"

"Alright! Time for you to go—have a good day, and text me if you want to meet up, yeah? We'll get something to eat, or have a coffee."

And just like that, the door closes shut behind her, and you can't help but laugh as Karina sighs in defeat and collapses onto the wooden frame. 

"So, that's Yizhuo—" you say, trying to keep it together, but she glares back at you as if it's all your fault that this happened.

"Don't," she mutters. "Not a word, sweetie." 

"She's cute, too."

"What? Oh my god, seriously, do not—" Karina protests, but she just rolls her eyes and gives this faux look of annoyance as she pulls you closer. "Do you wanna fuck her too?" 

"I didn't say that," you reply, and without even getting a chance to explain yourself Karina silences you with her lips. It's all tongue and teeth and it's so damn sloppy that it takes a while before either of you can get another word in.

"You can fuck her if you want. I don't mind. If you think she's cute, that is. Go and fuck her. You have my blessing."

You laugh, still finding all this absurd "I don't—Karina, that's not what I meant. It's fine. I like what I have." 

"And what is that?" Karina ponders, peppering your face with kisses.

"A hot roommate with amazing tits that lets me cum inside her everyday,” you blurt out, and Karina just turns beet red from embarrassment. 

"Yeah? Is that all I am to you?" she asks, almost cracking up at the end from her snorting laughter, her arms moving around your waist to tug you closer. "Maybe all you are to me is just a big cock for me to ride.” 

"Well, as long as we've got it all figured out—"

And just like that, your lips crash again in unison.

“But if you want, I can give you Yizhuo’s number. Pretty sure she would suck you off in the middle of a park if you just asked her for the time." 

"Jesus," you mutter, incredulous at the words slipping from her lips. "Didn't you say she was your best friend?"

"Oh, she is. But she's also the biggest slut I know." Karina has the widest grin you've ever seen.

You don't even have a word to say to that, but you don't need one when you let those lips overtake yours again. "Weren't we in the middle of something? We’ve still got an hour before I have to shower and get to class, so I better see you fucking me into next week."

And you can't possibly resist that. 

[alltimefail]

ATTENTION DEAD BOYS FANDOM:

We have some unfinished business and a case to solve: The Case of the Curious Cancellation! 💀🔎

Here are the ways you can help (be sure to read until the end).

I'm not sure how many people here on Tumblr are also over on DBDA Twitter, but there have been MANY developments in the last 24 hours and it's important for all of us to be on the same page if we're going to have a chance in hell of saving our show.

First and foremost, we need to get Dead Boy Detectives in the Netflix Top 10 again. This means running it as much as possible. Read about that below:

(SOURCE x)

As the graphic says, the goal is to have it running on a loop constantly, as much as you physically can. Be sure to have some level of volume on or else it won't count. If you're on Twitter be sure to post your rewatch (photos of your tv, commentary, etc.) with the hashtag #ReviveDeadBoyDetectives !!!

Also, there's no better time to do this: the Tweet below brings up a great point! 👍

(SOURCE x)

Second, and easiest thing: KEEP TALKING ABOUT THE SHOW AND CREATING CONTENT ABOUT THE SHOW. Analysis, fics, fanart, shitposts, gif sets, memes, tik tok videos, so on - do not stop! Reblog other people's stuff and talk about it! Give fics kudos, comment, make fic rec lists and post that WIP or sketch! The most important thing to remember is to TAG YOUR POSTS AND CREATIONS. We need to trend!!! On Tumblr make sure you continue tagging your posts as you probably already are (look at my tags on this post if you need help, and remember not to use "DBD" on here because that is another fandom! We use DBDA here). On Twitter you want to use the hashtag #ReviveDeadBoyDetectives for the rewatch and #SaveDeadBoyDetectives is a popular one, too. You can also use #DeadBoyDetectives. Hell, I usually use all three if I can! Hashtag every post you make about Dead Boys, no matter how annoying or "cringe" you may feel. Flood the fucking tag and do not stop.

Third, everyone needs to sign and keep circulating the petition. We've surpassed 5,000 signatures in a day which is fantastic, but we need more. Get everyone you know to sign it; tell them it takes no more than 15 seconds. Be annoying until they do it just to shut you up.

Fourth, request "Dead Boy Detectives Season 2" through Netflix's support website. It's a small thing but if we all do this a couple times a day it will get their attention. They really do vet these suggestions, and an influx of requests for a canceled show will raise eyebrows.

Lastly, if you decide to write Netflix (via email or a letter - their office address has been floating around) please remember to stay concise and professional. Don't curse at them, don't call names. State that you are disappointed with the cancellation of the show, maybe add an anecdote about what it meant to you, and I would even recommend attaching some articles that emphasize people's displeasure with the platform abandoning shows on a whim and Netflix's flippant attitude toward queer shows in particular. Dead Boy Detective Agency on Twitter has retweeted every article on this topic so far, you can find their page here.

You can also use graphics such as the ones below to affirm that the cancellation was unjust.

(Source 1, Source 2)

I know this feels like a lot: know your limits and take care of yourself. Whether you do every single one of these things or just a few of these things, every llittle bit helps!

Even in the worst case scenario where nothing changes, this gesture will mean so much to everyone who made this show. We owe it to the writers, cast, crew, and each other to TRY. We can all agree that this show deserves at least another season and if Netflix isn't going to do it, they need to be open to selling it to someone who will. We cannot keep allowing them to axe these queer and diverse shows with little regard for their customers and their employees, but also because it sets a harmful standard in the industry that is destroying television.

Let's crack this case and bring our agency back! I truly believe in this community!! 💜 We can do this!!

If there are any spelling errors or issues with links let me know! I did this on mobile because I want to mobilize this information as quickly as possible! I'll be adding on to this with new developments and can answer any questions you all might have. Lets save our show!

[logansdoll]

thank you

you never thought you'd be murdered in the middle of an alley... but you also never thought you'd be saved by a man with knives in his fists so... yeah.

CW: suggestive, profanity, the dude that attacks you is clinically insane, Logan's a little socially awkward, your power is kinda bad but kinda good, etc.

It was amazing how quick your day could go from fantastic, to an absolute, fucking shit storm.

Waking up that morning, as you went through your morning routine, something in the air just told you that everything was going to go right.

Your curls turned out perfect after your nightly twist, your makeup flawless, accentuating your natural beauty, and your breakfast sandwich tasted especially delicious.

That, along with the relatively quiet day at the hospital, left you leaving work with a certain pep in your step that made you feel like you could take on anything.

So not once did you plan to end up in the middle of a dark alleyway, and not once did you plan to stand off with a shady, seemingly dangerous, man because of it.

You were too lost in the music of your earphones to notice you had taken a wrong turn, a rookie mistake to make so late at night.

A mistake you were currently cursing yourself for.

"Look," you started, hands up and voice calm in an attempt to placate the irritated man. "I didn't mean to walk over here. I'm just trying to get home."

Slowly, he stalked closer, stance low and beady eyes staring at you in a way that made your stomach drop, and blood run cold.

'Shit.'

"Please... I don't want any trouble," you continued, taking a few steps back, "Just let me pass."

He tutted in response, wagging his finger as a sadistic grin slowly rose to his lips, "People who trespass on my territory gotta pay a toll, sweetheart," he licked his teeth, words slurring together, "and I can see you got more than enough..."

Shamelessly, his eyes dragged over your body, the surface of your skin erupting with a feel of grime and dirt.

You'd need a serious shower when you got home.

If you made it home...

As he drew closer, your hand discreetly slid into your jean jacket pocket, latching onto the cool, metal handle of your switchblade.

You were hoping to de-escalate the situation, but with the way things were looking, you knew you'd probably have to fight your way out.

"I'm only gonna ask one more time," you warned, your tone curt as your expression sharpened into a glare. "Let me go."

Without warning, he let out a manic shout, charging for you at full force.

You let out a shriek of surprise, quickly moving out the way before he could tackle you, whipping your blade out your pocket and flicking it open in one fluid motion.

Quickly, he turned around, expression furious as he ran again, hands out in an attempt to grab you.

And as you tried to dodge, he managed to latch onto the back of your scrub, roughly throwing you to the ground with a grunt.

"Fuck!" you spat, head throbbing as you attempted to sit up, your chest pounding as he grabbed your ankles and dragged you closer.

Fear struck your heart like a freight train, and in a bout of panic, you swung your knife, plunging it into the closest thing you could reach.

He let out a roar of pain, dropping your ankles as he nursed his injured foot, and the handle sticking out of it would've been funny were it not for the dire situation.

Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, stumbling towards your purse which laid on the ground not too far away.

But the man took notice, his foot becoming a thing of the past as he chased you again, scooping up a large shard of broken glass as he ran.

"Get away!" you cried, hugging your purse into your chest as his charge backed you into a corner, your legs giving out as you slid down the wall.

Horrible visions of your fate flashed through your mind as he approached, images of your lifeless body plastered on the nightly news, or your smiling picture on a missing persons poster.

What a fabulous time for your power to chime in...

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever was to come, when a loud shink and a pained grunt cut through the air.

Forcing your eyes back open, they landed on a figure, who stood over the dead body of your attacker.

The way the man laid, and the way he was injured, made it look as if he was mauled by some sort of animal.

'Holy shit...'

Pulling yourself back to reality, you realized the figure was now standing right in front of you.

He held his hand out for you to take, sharp, brown eyes flicking between you expectantly.

Finally having the chance to get a good look at him, you took in his appearance.

With his broad chest and strong jaw, you'd think he'd be on the cover of Sexy Bikers weekly, arms and legs thick with muscle under his leather jacket and blue jeans.

Your eyes met in an instant, an electric buzz shooting up your spine at his features.

From what you could see through the darkness, they were sharp, but strong and hard, handsome in their own rugged way.

His lips pulled taut in a line as he stared back, brows furrowing while his eyes flicked around you, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction.

Slowly, you placed your hand in his allowing him to pull you up to your feet.

"Thank you," you exhaled, shoulders dropping as relief finally sank in your shoulders. "I don't know what I would've done if you didn't come when you did..."

His arms came back to his sides, tiredly, as he awkwardly cleared his throat.

As if he didn't expect you to actually talk to him...

"What're you doin' walkin' by yourself so late?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble. "You got a death wish?"

The sound ignited something in you, a sudden flood of warmth rushing to your stomach, your reply nearly dying in your throat.

"I just got off from work... I wasn't paying attention and turned the wrong corner," you explained, choppily, the embarrassment of your mistake setting in.

It was a stupid one.

Especially for someone who's mutation gave her the ability to see the future.

Or variations of it, at least.

"You got a way to get home?" he asked, resting a hand on his hips.

His arms flexed with the motion, his bicep straining against the jacket sleeve, your eyes drawn to it almost instantly.

You'd never seen a man as handsome as him before, and while you felt bad for gawking, you were more concerned by the flurry of feelings swirling in your chest.

"Cab," you blurted, snapping yourself out of it, "I can hail a cab."

He nodded, smoothly and, to your surprise, silently, stepping to the side and out of your way.

You were ready to head back toward the street, when you suddenly remembered something.

"My purse—" Jittery, the man nervously shoved it into your arms, averting his eyes from your thankful expression.

Your gorgeous, thankful expression.

God, he didn't understand what such a beautiful woman like you was doing in a place like this.

"I found it on the ground over there," he cleared his throat once again, shifting his weight on his feet, "I put your knife back in, too. You might wanna wash it—"

Without warning, you pulled him into a hug, nearly sending his heart into a frenzy.

He kept his hands up, quite confused and unsure of what to do, especially since your impossibly soft cheek was pressed against his chest.

"Thank you... really," you smiled, warmly, as you looked up at him.

God, he was handsome.

Though, you pushed that thought to the back of your mind.

"It was nothin'," he assured, awkwardly, as you backed out.

"I don't suppose I could learn your name, could I?" you asked, a small smile rising to your lips at his social graces.

It was adorable.

Someone so big and strong being so nervous.

Instantly, he tensed, completely taken aback by your bold comment.

Maybe he was imagining things, but he could've sworn your tone made it sound like you were flirting with—

"Logan," he blurted, stiffly.

You grinned, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, "(y/n)."

Slowly, you started toward the mouth of the alleyway, his eyes following you intently, "Well, Logan, I hope we meet again... Then I'll pay you back."

"Not necessary," he assured, shaking his head.

You paused your walk for a moment, turning to glance at him with a devilish glint in your eye.

"We meet again... I'll have something for you," you promised, crossing your fingers.

A shiver rolled down his spine at your words, and you continued on your merry way, exiting the alley and hailing a nearby cab.

Once he was sure you were gone, he let out a loud sigh, allowing his shoulders to sink and a tired hand to run through his hair.

You were something...

One conversation and he already knew you were going to be trouble, the smell of your perfume and the warmth of your smile already plaguing his mind.

He shook his head, taking a deep breath before turning to walk out the alley.

But just as he stepped forward, he felt something under his foot, lifting it to reveal a necklace.

You must've lost it in the melee...

Carefully, he picked it up off the ground, placing it in his pocket before walking out the backstreet.

The next time he saw you... he'd have something for you, too.

[thephantomsdream]

Simon "Ghost" Riley that likes to be pampered, to be taken care of and let me tell you, he's just so not used to it. He's never had anyone to really treat him anything close to good.

In all honesty, he genuinely thought it was fine, being alone. He's a solitary creature, as life taught him to be, and deep down he convinced himself it was best. It didn't matter if there was a small, minuscule, pained tug at his heart every time he thought about it.

What he didn't expect was to be whipped immediately, one glance into your eyes and he was a goner. It went against his reasoning, this instinct of his to have you, battling everything he's been trying to avoid at all costs. But that one glance, that small smile you gave him, and he just knew. And months of tedious yet slow opening up and trying not only for you, but for himself, Simon was yours somehow. Baffling as it was, he now had someone to go home to. A sweet angel that in no time he plans to up and move into that bare house he has and take care of. Only thing is, the man did not expect to be taken care of himself, as if he forgot that was an option.

The first few times you two dated, officially, as he had to clarify this wasn't what kids these days mean by "hanging out" or "talking to" or whatever the fuck Johnny and Kyle were babbling to him about their dating lives (it's dating or not, Simon likes things clear), the man was surprised by how sweet yet determined you were. "Can I hold your hand?" You asked him a little flustered, and this big boy almost stuttered. He found himself nodding while gulping before taking your hand in his, internally beating himself up for acting like such a... boy? Having a silly crush on a lovely sweetheart that made him nervous by just exiting around him.

God, it felt fantastic when he finally got to kiss you. Simon thought it was gonna be just a kiss, big fucking deal (he was trying to cope, his hands were sweaty but whatever, big deal), but the way you sighed and melted into him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck made him shudder. It ignited something in him and his heart tugged again, this time not painful but hopeful.

It was the way you touched his scarred face that really astonished him, especially the first night you spent in his house. Whatever movie you babbled about the last date, vampires or whatever, was now playing on his flat screen on the new profile he created for you on whatever streaming service Simon just bought just to watch it. Another tiny bit of you in his life, it seemed. Movie was fucking awful, truly, fucking dumb teenagers and vampires, but whatever, your boyfriend (bloody fucking hell it felt fantastic and scary to think that he's now yours officially) was determined to watch it even if he snorted and made fun of it every three seconds, yet having you giggle by his side made his cold heart warm up as it beat a thousand times per second. Once again, he found himself about to mock something jokingly when he turned to you, finding your beautiful eyes already on him, expression warm and relaxed.

"Come here." At that moment, Simon Riley realized he'd follow anything you'd order him, as his body moved without any thoughts, just closer to you. Like a stray dog that's learning what a home is, something he's never really had, and when your lips touched his cheek while caressing the other, the world slowed down.

Having you move closer to him, placing a leg over his, smiling at him sweetly while gently kissing the scar near his lower lip, all he could do was stare dumbly as his face felt on fire. Little did he know that his pale cheeks reddened so adorably that you started to giggle. God, he fucking loved that sound.

"Lay on me, c'mon." You ordered gently again, grabbing his calloused hands to tug him onto you as you laid down on your back. Simon knew he looked like an idiot in awe, very much aware he's always had a staring problem. But as he crawled gently over you, expecting you to push him off after abruptly changing your mind, all he could do was to look down into your cleavage and stare like a muppet. " 'S aight?" Being all he asked before hearing a nice hum, approval for him to lay on you.

That day, Simon learned what heaven is. Your fingers into his hair, slowly, gently playing with his dirty blond locks, his face in your soft tits, your voice oh-so clear as he pressed his ear into your torso, the slow rumble almost putting him to sleep while his eyes were focused on the silly movie. His arms were wrapped around you while he just laid down between your legs. His dumb jokes still delivered as he muffled them out lazily, getting you to laugh and make him smirk as you(r tits) jiggled under him, and his reward, because you're a fucking angel, of course, was a sweet kiss on his temple every single time. The man could be turning into a clown by the end of the night as long as you kissed him so tenderly.

You spoiled him too. How dare you, really? Bringing him sweets, asking him what he wants to eat, adjusting your schedule to fit his (man's off duty, he can camp outside your house and come in whenever you want him to, if you'd be willing, like a good obedient dog), just making him feel wanted. It was odd. And new. And addicting.

You cared. You cared for him. And in his wonky yet honest way, he cared too. Always making sure that you know he's somehow thinking of you. He wanted to try. He wanted to make sure you'll stick around. The military has taught this man a lot of things, and apart from his head-strong conviction that he indeed can do anything if he puts his mind to it, another was how to not fuck up something good, all through the hundreds of stories from many other soldiers about failed relationships. He knows all the perspectives, all the failures, all the erros and all the aftermaths, so he learned to listen and not blame, to pay attention, to be there even if he was half a world away. Simon is determined to keep you around, coming back to you battered, wounded, traumatized, exhausted, and is greeted with his angel, all ready to pick him up, wrap him in a warm blanket and fuss over his ass. He'd roll his eyes at you, but his emerging smile said it all.

His heart now tugs when he's about to pick his luggage, a duffle bag filled with essentials and nothing more. A week earlier than expected too, relief washing over his body like never before, knowing you're at home waiting for good news. And he's heading that way too, determined, unrelenting, head first, no thoughts. He's going home to you.

Home to warm, delicious food, instead of stale and plain. Home to sweet laughter and love, instead of orders barked and indifference. Home to his, your comfortable bed, arms and legs wrapped around each other, the plump delicious curves of your body pressed against his hardened one. Home to gentle, home to calm, home to soft, home to himself, home to everything. Home to his heart, that is tugging him closer and closer, where he left it with you.

I'm just gonna dump this here and leave. Not proofread because we're old and lazy here.

[alisonsfics]

place to crash

pairing: carmen berzatto x reader

summary: carmy steps in as your knight in shining armor when your apartment’s electricity breaks, which makes you both test the line between friends and something more

word count: 2.9k

warnings: swearing, whole lotta fluff

“Oh, come on. Hurry the fuck up,” you muttered to yourself. You were currently on hold with the electricity company.

After a hectic service at the Bear, you had come home to your pitch black apartment with no power. The one thing you wanted to do was curl up and eat some leftovers while watching some tv, but that clearly wasn’t happening tonight.

“Hello? Are you still there?” The man’s voice echoed through the speaker. “Yes, I’m here,” you said, quickly. You didn’t want to risk him hanging up on you and having to start this process all over again.

“So, it looks like our crew has already gone home for the day. We can’t send anyone to look at it until tomorrow morning.” He told you. You huffed, running your fingers through your hair. “Alright, thank you. Have a fantastic night,” you said, passive aggressively.

You threw your phone down onto the kitchen counter.

With the electricity out, that also meant no air conditioning. You pulled your hair up into a quick ponytail. You were already sweating, so you knew there was no way you could stay at your apartment for the night.

You glanced back down at your phone, and it felt like the answer was staring you in the face. You opened your contacts and saw the one person you knew you could always rely on.

You clicked on Carmy’s name, smiling to yourself when you saw his contact photo. It was a goofy picture of the two of you from a party that Sydney threw. He had his arm haphazardly thrown around your shoulders. You were sticking your tongue out at the camera while he kissed your cheek.

You both had a history of becoming more affectionate than normal when you had been drinking. That night was a great example.

It only rang once before he answered. “Hey, what’s up? Are you okay?” He asked, immediately. Having seen Carmy less than an hour ago, he knew something was going on if you were calling him so soon.

“Hey, I’m fine, no need to panic. I just have a little favor to ask you, but you can totally say no—” you started to explain before he interrupted you.

“You’ve got it. What do you need?” He answered without a second thought. It made your cheeks heat up. Carmy was always ready to drop everything for you.

“You don’t even know what it is yet, Berzatto.” You told him, giggling to yourself. You couldn’t see him, but you could perfectly imagine the way he’d shrug. “I don’t need to know. I have no reason to doubt you.” He said, simply.

“Not even gonna make me work for it?” You teased him.

“You never have to work for it. Not with me,” he told you, honestly. Every time you talked to Carmy, it became harder for you to pretend you weren’t head over heels for him.

“Alright, well the power is out at my apartment—” you started to tell him. “Come stay at my place tonight,” he offered. You felt so grateful for him.

“Are you sure it’s not a burden? You don’t have to feel pressured to say yes.” You assured him, but you knew his answer wouldn’t change.

“Of course I’m sure. I’m not letting you stay at your apartment with no power. Come on over. I’m making dinner now. You eaten yet?” He asked. “No, not yet,” you told him.

“Alright, perfect. I’ll make you a plate, and I’ll see you in a few minutes,” he said, and you could hear that he was smiling.

“Thank you, Carmy, truly. I’ll see you soon,” you said, before hanging up.

You quickly grabbed a bag and stuffed some essentials inside it before heading out the door. Carmy’s apartment was only a short walk from your apartment. After five or ten minutes, you were at his door.

You knocked on the door and heard a lot of noise on the other side. “It’s open,” you heard Carmy yell.

You turned the doorknob slowly before walking inside. You saw Carmy turning his pullout couch into a bed. He was neatly fixing the blankets and adding some pillows.

You also noticed the table was set with two plates of pasta, and you couldn’t tell where, but from somewhere in the apartment jazz music was playing.

“You didn’t have to do all of this for me, Carmy,” you said, feeling guilty. He put a final pillow on the bed and walked towards you. “I wanted to,” he said, simply. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a quick hug.

“I’m sorry about your apartment,” he said, sincerely.

“None of that is your fault, Carmy. You don’t have to apologize.” You replied. His hand grazed the small of your back, and he gestured towards the dining table. He even made sure to pull your chair out from the table for you.

“Such a gentleman,” you said, unable to get the smile off your face. You always felt like a giggly schoolgirl around Carmy. “Only the best for you,” he jokingly flirted, but wasn’t willing to push it any further.

Carmy cared about you so much. You were practically his world, and he was terrified that if he told you that, you’d leave.

After eating dinner, you both got ready for bed in Carmy’s bathroom. It made you feel like a married couple, and you had to force yourself to ignore it.

“I know I’ve asked you like ten times, but are you sure you don’t want my bed? I can sleep on the couch.” He offered, wanting you to feel right at home. You grabbed his hand without thinking about it.

“Carmy, you are so sweet, but I promise that sleeping on a couch will not kill me. I will be fine, sweetie.” You told him. You weren’t sure where the pet name had come from. You’d never called Carmy “sweetie” before.

Carmy had practically jumped out of his skin hearing the name roll so smoothly off your tongue. He only wanted to hear you call him sweetie from now on. It took everything in his power to not confess his love to you right then and there.

“Okay, fine,” he gave up, knowing you were more stubborn than he was. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. You happily wrapped your arms around him as he held on to you.

You were taking in every part of this moment. You could smell his cologne, the same one he’d worn since you met him. You’d told him how much you liked it once, and he promised himself he’d never change it.

“Goodnight. Sleep well,” he said, kissing the top of your head and leaving you smitten.

You walked into the living room, and fell asleep within seconds of crawling under the blankets.

In the middle of the night, a sound woke you up. You jumped to sit up, looking around to see what the noise was. The bright LED numbers from the clock read 3:42. You realized the sound was someone jiggling the doorknob on the front door.

You jumped off the couch and ran into Carmy’s bedroom. You were half awake, and it was the only thing you could think of.

You reached forward and placed your hand on Carmy’s forearm, trying to wake him up. He jumped up as soon as you touched him.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, quickly. Even being half awake and in a dark room, he was somehow still able to sense that you were afraid. “It sounds like somebody’s trying to come in the front door.” You told him, which woke him up fast.

He grabbed the bat from beside his bed and headed towards the front door. Your fear only made him more confident. He knew that he needed to step up and protect you.

You stayed behind him. He got within a few feet of the door. Then, you both saw the door start to open.

“Get the hell out,” Carmy threatened whoever was on the other side of the door.

The door quickly was flung all the way open. “Cousin, chill the fuck out. It’s me.” You both heard Richie say.

You both breathed a sigh of relief. Carmy dropped the bat down to his side, irritated at Richie. “Do you know what time it is? What the fuck are you doing here?” Carmy asked him.

Richie flipped on the light switch and held up his spare key, as though that explained his presence.

“Oh shit, Y/N? What’re you doing here?” Richie asked, finally noticing you standing behind Carmy.

Before you could even answer, Richie’s eyes darted between the two of you. He saw Carmy just in boxers and you in an oversized tshirt, which he assumed must’ve belonged to Carmy. Then, it made sense to him.

“Oh wait. You two are hooking up?” He asked, smirking at the both of you. Richie was the most convinced of all your friends that you and Carmy were meant for each other. He saw it all, especially the way that your’s and Carmy’s gaze always found each other in a crowded room.

“No!” You and Carmy both quickly assured him, but Richie’s smirk didn’t fade. He didn’t believe either of you for a second.

“She’s just sleeping here tonight,” Carmy tried to explain.

“Oh yeah, I’m sure there’s been lots of sleeping going on here.” Richie teased, causing Carmy to put his head in his hands.

“The electricity is out at my apartment, so Carmy’s letting me crash here tonight. That’s it,” you tried to shut Richie up.

“So you came here for the electricity?” Richie asked, very aware of the double entendre. He loved how much he could get under yours and Carmy’s skin with just a few comments. “You’re the worst, Richie.” Carmy said, exasperatedly.

“See, we have the pullout,” you said, gesturing towards the couch. You saw a mischievous glint in Richie’s eyes. Richie was like a brother, so you knew the joke he was going to make before he even opened his mouth.

“The pullout COUCH, you fucking child,” you said, smacking his arm. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Carmy with his eyes trained on the floor and his hand covering his mouth as he tried not to laugh.

You crossed your arms and frowned at him. “You are not helping,” you said, glaring at him. He quickly held his hands up in surrender, not wanting you to hit him too.

Richie moved past the joke, but wasn’t quite ready to stop teasing you yet.

“The couch looks pretty messy to me. I wonder how that happened.” He teased. You knew that was just trying to get under your skin, but if you stopped denying what he was saying, he’d be so much worse.

“Yeah, cause I jumped up in a panic thinking someone was breaking in.” You defended. Carmy placed his hand on your back, rubbing small circles. You and Richie were the two most stubborn people he knew, and he knew that neither of you liked to lose an argument.

“And little Carmy was ready to protect you? I won’t lie, that’s pretty sweet, dude.” Richie said, watching the way Carmy’s cheeks turned a soft shade of pink.

“So, why’re you here?” Carmy asked, changing the subject. Richie plopped himself down on the couch. “I need to crash here too. My neighbors are in a big fight and they won’t shut the fuck up.” Richie explained.

“Well, you aren’t staying here. Go find some other fucking place to stay.” Carmy said. He didn’t want anyone to break up his alone time with you.

“That’s not what you told her.” Richie argued, gesturing towards you. Richie had a point, but Carmy would never tell you no.

“Richie, just please leave. Besides, there’s nowhere for you to sleep,” Carmy begged him. Carmy knew if Richie stayed out, it would ruin everything with you. Richie would tease every move he made, and he couldn’t be as affectionate with you. That should have been Carmy’s first indicator that you both were more than friends.

“I’m taking the couch, you two figure out the rest.” Richie said, grabbing you both by the wrists and shoving you into Carmy’s bedroom. Carmy went to open the door, but realized Richie was leaning against the back of the door.

“Richie, let us out,” Carmy begged. You went and sat down on Carmy’s bed. “Carmy, c’mere, you know Richie’s stubborn, and he won’t give up,” you said, patting the spot next to you.

“Reminds me of someone else,” he teased you as he sat beside you. You lightly smacked his arm. “I am not stubborn. I was out there defending myself but also defending you. He’s gonna be insufferable at work tomorrow. He’ll tell everyone that we hooked up, and we’ll never hear the end of it.” You rambled.

“He’s been trying to get us to hook up for years, it might just be easier to actually do it and shut him up.” Carmy joked before he could process the words he was saying.

You felt your eyes go wide. “I’m sorry, Carmen Berzatto. Did I mishear you? Did you just suggest that we hook up?” You asked, truly stumped.

“Don’t look at me like that. I was just joking.” He tried to backpedal. He couldn’t read your expression, which was a first. It was because if he’d actually suggested it, you would have said yes immediately.

“I’m sorry about this. First, your apartment. And now, Richie being Richie.” He said, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. “Carmy, none of this is your fault.” You said, grabbing his hand and tracing your finger over his tattoos.

You both were painfully aware of the fact that you’d never been this physically close before. This was beyond the level of affection that you both could defend as friendly.

“So, if it wasn’t Richie, you were gonna protect me?” You asked.

“Of course, I was. I’m always watching out for you. Gotta keep my girl safe,” he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

You sat straight up. Once again, you thought you’d misheard him. “Oh, fuck it,” he said, cupping your face and kissing you roughly. It didn’t take you any time to kiss him back.

He pressed his palms against your back and carefully pushed you back onto his bed. You ran your fingers across his toned chest. You could feel his muscles flex under your touch.

“I thought you said you were joking,” you teased him as he pressed kisses down your jaw. He let out a soft chuckle, his chest shaking against you. “Why? Do you want me to stop?” He teased.

“Fuck no,” you mumbled, cupping his face and pulling him down to kiss you. His fingers fumbled with the hem of your tshirt, letting his hands slip under it and caress your skin.

He felt you groan against the kiss and took it as a sign to keep going. One of his hands crept higher up your chest while he removed his other hand. He grabbed the bottom of your shirt and was ready to pull it over your head when the door burst open.

“Richie, the fuck? Get out,” Carmy yelled, quickly pulling your shirt back down to make sure you were completely covered. You hid your face in Carmy’s chest, not wanting to face Richie. You could already imagine the smug grin on his face.

“Well well well,” Richie said, in his signature “I told you so” tone.

Carmy didn’t want to put up with his gloating. “Richie, enough. Out!” He repeated, grabbing a pillow off the bed and throwing it at Richie’s face. The whole time he kept one arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you close to him and letting you hide from Richie.

Richie jumped backwards to dodge the pillow and finally closed the bedroom door. As soon as the door clicked closed, Carmy cupped your face with one hand and kissed you again.

You could feel the butterflies in your stomach as he ran his hand down your side. He let his fingers trace every inch of your skin.

You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him away. “Did I do something wrong?” Carmy asked, immediately concerned.

You quickly shook your head, trying to reassure him. “There’s nothing I want more right now, but we can’t do this with Richie here. You know that, Carm.” You said, caressing his cheek.

“One part of my brain knows that, but the other part knows how long I’ve waited for this, for you,” pressing a soft kiss against your cheek, “but you’re right.” he said.

“We’ve waited this long, what’s a little longer?” You joked, smiling up at him. He kissed your forehead, falling in love with the way you were looking at him. “Tomorrow night. I’m gonna take you out to dinner, and we’ll have a real date. I’m gonna spoil you.” He said, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I’m looking forward to it,” you said, leaning forward to peck his lips.

You both sat in silence, soaking in the moment. You both knew that it was perfect, and you wanted to remember it forever.

“You look really pretty in the moonlight.” You complimented him, admiring the way Carmy’s curls framed his face.

“You’re making it really hard to not fall in love with you,” he teased, pulling you in for another kiss.

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[suhkusa]

HELL OF A WOMAN.

PAIRING. Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader

CW. slight enemies-to-lovers, some angst but not heavy, fluff, you're both snarky (romantic), ~4k words, slice of life, reader has a healing quirk

A/N. i'd say slowburn but it's only slowburn because i barely ever write fics this long lol

Throughout your time in the nurse’s office as Recovery Girl’s student apprentice, you’ve met many different students. They all varied– whether it be their quirk, their grade, or even the injury they had come in for. 

Students from the general education, support and management departments rarely ever made their rounds to the nurse’s office, only coming in for a simple cut or bruise. 

That left you with those in the hero department.

You got along well with nearly all of them, even going as far as becoming friends with a few. And while that was true, of course there were gonna be some who you couldn’t get along with. But, there was specifically one student you could not stand. And he’d probably say the same thing for you as well. 

It was none other than Bakugou Katsuki.

———

The first time you really interacted with Bakugou Katsuki was within the first month of your apprenticeship. It was in your 3rd year, and you had already been managing well. 

Your day had started off fantastic. Recovery Girl had left you to run the office by yourself, thoroughly trusting your working and communication skills, so that she could run errands out of town. 

The office hadn’t been too busy, allowing you time to finish a bit of your homework at your own little desk next to hers. A few people came and left, just needing a simple healing of their arm or leg. 

You had been lost in thought when he slammed the door open, practically huffing as he walked in. Putting your pencil down, your wide eyes looked up and met his own. It felt as though he was burning a hole straight through your skull with the way he stared you down.

You didn’t even have to ask to know who he was. In your first and second year, his face was plastered nearly everywhere throughout the media. Bakugou Katsuki. But you’d never talked to him. Well, until now.

Assuming he’d be like every other person who walked through that door, stating their business then quietly leaving, you broke the deafening silence.

“Uh, yes?” you let out, cringing internally at the way the words came out.

Bakugou looked around the room before back at you, “Where the hell is the old woman at?” he spat.

You were seemingly surprised at his not-so-subtle entrance and dirty language. 

“If you meant Recovery Lady by “old woman”, then she’s out of town for some errands. I can help you if–”

“And who the hell are you?” he snapped before you finished, impatience laced in the way he spoke and stood before you.

You could practically feel how your jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed at his blunt question. If he didn’t hold back, then why should you?

“I’m Y/N L/N, I’m Recovery Lady’s helper. Now,” you put on the most calm and collected voice you could manage, “what the hell do you want?”

The day was going well, before now at least, and you were not going to let some egoistic, cocky guy ruin it for you. Tug of war is a game with two different sides, and you weren’t gonna let him win victoriously. 

Bakugou’s face scrunched up at the words you spat right back at him, opening his mouth to retort something– probably an insult– before letting it fall shut with a grunt. 

“What the– Just put a bandage on this shit,” he held his arm out for you to see a scrape wound running up the length of it.

You raised an eyebrow as you glanced between the injury and his eyes that looked down at you expectantly. And waited.

“The fuck you staring at?” he spoke– yelled, really– before stepping a bit closer.

A smirk tugged up at the corner of your lips before you sat back in your spinning chair, crossing a leg over the other. Like you were the one expecting something.

“You–”

“Please.” you cut him off, lifting a hand to inspect your nails nonchalantly. Hm, maybe you should get them done.

“Like hell I’m saying that, do something about–”

“Please.”  you repeated, emphasizing the word in a louder tone. You looked at him from behind your lifted hand, the smirk that once teased at your mouth now sitting there fully– mocking him.

“Fine! Fuckin’ fine!”  Bakugou snarled, his pearly whites peeking from under his lips. “Will you please do something about this?”

Satisfied, you responded, “‘Kay,”

———

Perhaps you should’ve bit your tongue before you spoke to the oh so great Bakugou Katsuki. In your defense, you didn’t know he’d hold it against you. You were joking, obviously. It was obvious. Right?

And so, everytime he walked into the nurse’s office, he’d send you the same nasty glare, practically seething through his teeth as he made eye contact with you. You knew exactly why he did the gesture every time he came in, but how long did this guy hold grudges for? It wasn’t like you publicly humiliated him or anything. 

“Why are you always looking at me like that?” you asked him one day as the Recovery Lady escorted him to one of the vacant cots, leg stretched out as you leaned back in your chair. 

“Hah? Like what?” he grunted in your direction as he took a seat, an eyebrow raised in curiosity? Irritation? Probably both.

“Mm,” you looked up to the roof as if you were thinking, “Like you like me or something, I mean it’s really flattering but you don’t have to sta—”

“As if. I’d rather watch an elephant take a dump than stare at your face any day,” Bakugou inputted as he lifted his arm to allow Recovery Lady to heal the injury along his bicep.

“Oh really? I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff, Bakugou,” 

You fidgeted with the pen in your hand as you watched his face scrunch up. 

“You know what—”

Just as he was about to rise and stand from his spot, Recovery Lady quickly and gently pushed him to sit back down. 

“Y/N,” she emphasized your name with a familiar tone, “I think we’re running low on bandages, could you go get some from the storage room?” 

Even though her words were anything but hostile, you and Bakugou could tell she was scolding you. You let out a sigh. 

“Yeah, I can,” 

Getting up from your seat, you set your things down before making your way to the door. Not before stealing one more glance at Bakugou. He was also staring back at you, but this time there was a bit of cockiness in his eyes. Getting the last word never hurt anybody.

You slid the door open, eyes still locked with his, “You know, you’d probably look cute as well if you didn’t look like you were constipated 24/7,” 

“The fuck—”

Quickly sticking your tongue out at him, you shut the door before he was able to finish his sentence.

———

The nurse’s office had been particularly quiet today. The slow day in the office gave you more free time to yourself, which allowed you to catch up on a couple past assignments. Only two or three people came in before the lunch bell rang. After packing your bag, you waved off Recovery Lady as you excused yourself to the cafeteria.

And when you returned, it was still quiet. You quickly noticed that it was also void of Recovery Lady, the short woman nowhere to be seen. As you slid the door shut behind you, you heard a hushed groan come from one of the beds. Your head snapped to the source of the noise, quietly stepping closer to the person. 

Almost naturally, you recognized the disheveled blonde hair. Bakugou. 

But this was different. New. He was quiet for once, and the eyes that almost always were glaring at you were closed shut. Your body relaxed at the unusual sight of him. And maybe if you were crazy, you would’ve thought he was cute. 

As you got closer, you noticed the slight crease in his eyebrows, as well as the bandage that was wrapped around his torso. 

Perhaps you got too caught up in the moment, though. Too caught up in the way his chest slowly rose with each breath, the way his skin seemed to glow under the sun’s filtered light. So caught up that you didn’t realize those familiar crimson eyes were staring back up at you.

“You a pervert now?” his voice cut through silence, causing you to tense and step back. “The hell are you looking at?”

For a moment, it felt like your voice was caught in your throat. You caught yourself trying to find something to look at. Something other than him.

“Looks like you’re in quite a predicament,” you commented with a breathy laugh, not really knowing what else to say. Stupid joke.

“No, really?” sarcasm was laced in his tone, but you could hear the struggle as he grunted quietly afterwards.

Maybe you’d spare him for the day.

“Recovery Lady hasn’t gotten to you, yet?” you asked as you slowly made your way to your desk, setting down your bag.

“Nah,” he let out a huff as he sat up, “Shit— she wasn’t here when I got here,”

Letting out a hum in response, “Do… Do you want me to help you then?” you asked, even though you already knew the likely answer.

“What the hell do you think—” 

“You know, on second thought I have some homework—”

He let out an exasperated sigh before surrendering once again, “Yes. Yes, please. Help me,”

Biting back a small smile, you turned back around to make your way back to the injured man. You pulled up a chair next to the bed, sliding in closer. After gesturing him to lay back down, your hands carefully peeled back the bandages that covered the wound. You’d never get used to the sight of blood. 

You could feel the way his body tensed every time your hand neared his injury, though you tried your best not to touch it at all. 

“Sorry if it hurts a little,” you said, lifting your hands over the gash, “Just do your best to relax,”

“Whatever,” Bakugou responded as he turned his head away from you. 

It happened in a flash. From his peripheral view, he saw your hands glow, and the next thing he knew: he was fine again. Not a scar, scratch, or wound in sight. Like it wasn’t even there. 

Though you enjoyed the perplexed look in his eyes, you could feel yourself becoming rather light-headed. You took a deep breath before standing up and going back to your desk to get your water bottle. 

As you took a sip of your water, you watched as he sat up in the cot, lifting up his shirt to examine the skin. 

“Never seen a quirk before?” you laughed at his amusement.

His face quickly snapped back to his normal grouchy look, “No, just didn’t know you had a quirk at all, you usually just bandage my injuries up. Plus healing quirks are rare,”

“Mm, I get that a lot,” you mused, twisting the cap back onto your water, “It’s just a normal healing quirk though. I’ve been working with Recovery Lady to train it’s capabilities,”

Bakugou grunted in response. Silence filled the room for a moment before he decided to speak up. 

“Gonna head back to class,” he stated curtly, swiftly putting his blazer back on before stepping towards the door, “Thanks, I guess,” 

With one last glance back at you, he was gone. Leaving you and the rapid thumping of your heart alone in the room once again. 

———

“Is anyone sitting here?” a gruff voice came from above.

With the rest of the noise in the cafeteria, you nearly didn’t hear him. Your eyes gazed up from your food toward him, eyebrow shooting up in question.

“Uhm,” you swallowed the food in your mouth before responding, “what does it look like to you?” 

You gestured to the empty seats around you before going back to poking at your lunch.

“Tch, just asking,” Bakugou murmured under his breath as he tugged a chair out from under the table and took a seat.

As you ate, you couldn’t help but sneak a couple of glances his way. Just why was he sitting with you? Was this his own silent way of tormenting you?

“So,” you started before clearing your throat, “what do you want?”

You could see him freeze mid-bite, eyes shooting up to you.

“To eat? What else?” he grunted nonchalantly.

Well no shit.

“Oh really? Didn’t know that,” you rolled your eyes, “why not eat with your friends?”

“Don’t wanna,”

Your lips pulled into a thin line before you gave up. You dismissed him as you continued to finish your lunch. After this you’d probably have enough time to take a nap in the nurse’s office. In an attempt to finish your food without starting some random argument with the blonde next to you, you kept the interactions to a minimum.

After you finished, you debated your options. Did you say goodbye or just… leave? Just leaving would be rude, wouldn’t it? Well who cares, you sure don’t–

“Hold on,” he called out, catching your attention.

You watched as he quickly finished the rest of his lunch, gathering his stuff before standing up. 

“What–”

“Alright, let’s go,” he said as he walked past you towards the garbage can.

“Uh,” you followed shortly after him with your trash, “go where?”

Stacking his tray with the others, he sent you a glare with a rough, “Where else?” 

When you didn’t respond with a word but instead with a confused look, Bakugou sighed and continued. 

“The nurse’s office,” 

Your mouth dropped open in a silent “Ohh”. You tugged your bag over your shoulder as you walked up next to him.

 The walk through the halls was rather silent other than the couple of students that walked past the two of you. But not a word was said between the two of you. At least until he opened his mouth. 

“So, what are your plans after graduating?” he asked, hands in his pocket as he continued to walk by you. 

You let your eyes scan the exterior through the wide UA windows when you responded, “Hm, I think I’ll find a job in a hospital? I think I wanna work in some field with heroes, but I’m not quite sure yet… And you?”

“Obviously I’m gonna a hero,” Bakugou scoffed with a smirk, “Gonna be the best one, at that,” 

“I see,” you let a light laugh slip out at his confidence.

“What’s funny, huh?” he asked, voice suddenly scarily serious. 

Your eyes widened, “Nothing, nothing– It’s just we barely have normal conversations like this. I guess,” you quickly added.

Bakugou hummed in response, coming to a quick stop as the two of you reached the nurse’s office’s door. 

“Well,” you step closer to the door, “Thank you for walking me here, Bakugou,” you smiled.

“Katsuki,”

“Hm?”

He rolled his eyes, “Just call me Katsuki,” he turned the other way quickly before waving you off, “Later, nerd,” 

A laugh escaped you as you watched him walk away, waiting a couple of more moments before walking into the office.

Maybe if you stared for a little longer you would’ve seen the way his ears reddened at your smile.

———

“Oh! Good afternoon Bakugou and Kirishima!” the voice of the elderly woman snapped you awake, causing you to jump in your seat.

You could hear a snicker come from a certain person as you turned to see the two who entered the room.

Your eyes were met with a seemingly beaten up Kirishima and Bakugou, the two having scruffs, scratches and bruises on their skin.

“What were you guys doing this time?” Recovery Lady escorted the two to their own beds, tending to Bakugou’s injuries and gesturing to you to help Kirishima.

“Ah, just training, same as always,” the red head responded with a smile, “Oh, hey Y/N,”

You could feel the ends of your mouth tug upwards at his greeting, “Hey,”

“How’s everything been?” 

As you continued your chatter with Kirishima and helped him with his injuries, you didn’t seem to see or feel the daggers of stares that Bakugou sent in your direction.

On the other hand, Bakugou didn’t even know why he felt like this. 

What was he pissed about? It’s not like the two of you are friends. Did you consider him a friend? Yet why did it feel so utterly annoying to watch you interact with some other guy? 

That was beyond Bakugou. 

Maybe he already knew the answer. And maybe he didn’t want to come to terms with what that answer held.

Either way he couldn’t take another second of this.

“Bakugou? Where are you going—”

The sound of Recovery Lady’s frantic voice caught the attention of you and Kirishima. Your eyebrow raised in confusion as the blonde made his way to the door with the little lady following him.

“You’re not fully healed yet,” the old woman claimed.

“It’s fine,” 

“Let him,” Kirishima said after Bakugou slammed the door shut. “He’s been a little off lately,”

You wrapped a bandage around Kirishima’s elbow, “Off? How?”

Kirishima’s eyes looked up in thought, “He’s been kinda closed off lately; barely comes to our hangouts,”

“Ooh,” you sighed as you continued helping the guy in front of you.

There was a seedling of worry planted in your stomach, and you barely had any clue why. It’s not like you guys were close. He was just some guy who came to the nurse’s office like every other student. Maybe those late nights staying up were finally catching up to you. 

After cleaning up and sending Kirishima off, you were finally left alone. Recovery Lady had left a while ago to fetch some supplies from the storage room. And so that left you and your thoughts alone in the office.

———

A week had gone by.

A week had gone by, and there had been radio silence from Bakugou.

Either training had slowed down or he was completely avoiding you. And either way, it still made you a bit sad. Only a bit. 

Days in the nurse’s office were slow and lonely. You never made a real connection with anyone. People came and people left. They come to get healed and leave. No side talk, albeit a few exceptions. Bakugou being one of those.

 There were times where you thought you saw him entering the nurse’s office when you were leaving, but the glimpses were so small that you chalked it up to your imagination.

It felt like he was consuming your every thought, so you had no choice but to accept the fact that maybe you had a crush on Bakugou. Maybe.

But so what? That was normal, everyone had a crush on him at one point. Too bad you fell victim along with the rest of them, though.

Admitting to yourself that you liked Bakugou was hard, but having to actually deal with the feelings you had was harder. One, because you’ve never really had a serious crush. And two, he was nowhere to be seen. Having a crush on him made your heart beat so quick that you’d use your quirk on yourself to make sure you weren’t having heart problems.

Soon, one week turned into two.

And it seemed like the office was only getting busier as the third years prepared for their finals. Everyone was in and out as they practiced their hand to hand combat more vigorously and more often.

The first couple of days, it was easy. But towards the end of the week, you began to fatigue. Having to balance your own finals and running around the office having to use your quirk over and over was doing a number on you. 

The injuries were becoming worse, the amount was increasing. At times, you were dizzy with how many times you’d have to keep turning around from bed to bed to help someone new. 

Then there was a calm. You barely noticed a full week of finals had swung by, leaving the clinic empty and quiet. 

“Is it alright if I nap during the passing period?” you turn in your chair to Recovery Lady, who is stocking up the medicine cabinets.

“Of course, you should be fine, if anything I can handle anyone who comes in,” she tells you.

You sigh in relief as you walk to the nearest bed on weak legs, basically melting into it as soon as your body hits the cushion. You knock out on the spot, letting your well-deserved slumber overcome you.

———

 Your slumber is interrupted by a slight jolt to the bed frame you’re lying on. You groan as you flip onto your other side. The light escapes through your lashes, creating a blurred light illusion with a silhouette. Your eyes shot open, a silhouette? 

You become conscious of yourself as soon as you realize the one before you is none other than Bakugou Katsuki. There’s a stupid grin on his face which makes you want to slap it right off of him. You sneakily nudge at the drool on the side of your mouth and adjust your clothing and appearance.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?” he says from the seat beside you, and it feels like forever since you’ve last heard that voice of his.

“Yeah, because of someone,” you grumbled, eyebrows scrunching up. He laughs, laughs, as his eyes focus on you.

“It’s getting late,” is all he says.

You have half a mind to respond, until you remember that he’s been avoiding you. Your eyebrows tighten together impossibly closer, as you flip to face away from him.

“You’re a dick,” you say matter-of-factly. “You’ve been avoiding me, I’m not stupid,”

Your eyes are jittery as they look everywhere. Trying to focus on something in the room to distract yourself from all of the possibilities of what might come out of his mouth.

“Why do you care?”

His words cause you to sit up, facing him once more. “What do you even mean, why? I used to see you everyday, then suddenly you just walked out and I never saw you again,”

Bakugou’s eyes slightly roll at your words, and it kind of hurts.

“I just thought maybe we were…” your words trail off causing Bakugou to stare at you more intently.

“Were what?”

“I don’t know, friends, or some shit,” you bury your head in your hands out of embarrassment.

“Did I say we weren’t?”

“Well, you never said we were,”

“Didn’t think I had to,” he says, “Thought you were smarter than that, doc,”

You smile at the nickname. “You can leave now, I’m awake, I just have to close up the clinic. Why were you here in the first place?”

“Had to make sure you weren’t dead or something,”

Laughing, you get up to fix the bed sheets. The words that fly out of your mouth come out on their own. 

“What, do you like me or something?”

“Probably,”

His careless response didn’t register in your mind at first, but when it did, you could feel the heat rush from the back of your neck up to the tips of your ears. 

“W-What? You can’t just say that… weirdo,” your eyes flick up at him then back down to the sheets, fluffing up the already neat pillows. 

Silence filters through the room, the only noise filling your ears being the noise of cotton and linen being moved around. Along with the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears. It felt so loud, that you swear he could probably hear it as well. You didn’t know what to do, was this real life?

Did those words really just come out of his mouth?

His head tilted and you could feel his gaze on you. It was nerve-wracking, and you were just hoping and praying he’d say something that’d clear your mind. A small, “just kidding,” would be nice right about now. The hurt you’d feel from that would be better than the anxiety you felt at this instant. 

“Say what?” he mocks, and it causes your eye to twitch.

You decide you’re not playing these games with Katsuki Bakugou today, “Oh nothing, must’ve been the wind,” you flutter your eyes before turning the other direction to fix up another bed that looks like it’d been used.

A hand on your wrist puts a stop to your motions, and it immediately makes your head turn back to meet his eyes. 

“B- Katsuki–”

You’d usually be able to come up with something snarky, but right now all your words were caught in your throat. You were actually scared to say the wrong thing for once.

“You were joking right?” you ask him, nervous for what his answer might be.

Bakugou is quick to retort, “Depends, were you?”

You gulp down your anxiety before giving him a response, “N-No,”

“Then? Use that smart little brain of yours, doc,”

“Say it,” you demand, “I’m not playing this little game with you, so say it,”

His ruby eyes roll before connecting gazes with yours once again, “I like you, or something,” he mimics your words from earlier.

You can feel yourself fluster. The dizziness in your head almost made you convince yourself that you were dreaming. If this was a dream, you wanted All Might himself to pop out and punch you across the face.

“Why don’t you say something now, hm?” his grip around your wrist loosens to a more gentle grasp.

His face closens to yours, the distance between the two of you is only breaths-length. 

“Since you’re so smart, you tell me,” you sass, “Take a guess, smartass,” 

A smile quirks at the corner of his mouth, “You’re such a dick,” he whispers under his breath before closing the distance completely, his lips locking with yours. 

Your eyes widen at the pure shock, but you ultimately melt into the kiss. It’s sweet and you can feel the two of you smiling into it. 

When the two of you part, you can feel slight embarrassment wash over you. “You’re an ass, you didn’t even let me confess, my high school sweetheart experience is ruined forever, 

Bakugou lets out a breathy laugh at your words, “Thought you wanted me to take a guess,” 

“And if you were wrong?” 

“Hah, as if,”

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[chuthulhu-plays]

I generally watch LPs of horror games bc I'm too anxious to actually play them but a lot of them have FANTASTIC stories, so sometimes I just binge-watch KrinxTV for background noise. Been watching a lot of playthroughs of Still Wakes The Deep because it's such a delight to hear Scottish voice actors get work and I thought I'd address some questions I keep seeing Let's Players ask:

--Adair is a member of the National Front as you can find out from posters in his cabin, a Neo-Fascist British political party that’s been going since the sixties. While it often preaches British ethnic unity, in practice that often means “everybody in the UK should be exactly like East End Londerners” and features plentiful disdain for Scottish, Irish, and Welsh folk, alongside those perceived as “not British”. No wonder the wanker eats alone in the canteen.

--Neeps and Tatties=turnips and potatoes, mashed, drenched in butter or sauce. Fills your belly, keeps you warm, probably makes you sink like a stone because it’s so heavy.

--Cranachan=a dessert made of raspberries, honey, cream and oats, absolutely delicious

--Rennick calls Caz a “wee ned prick”. Ned is apocryphally said to stand for “non-educated delinquent” and is basically just a way of calling someone an uneducated, lower-class criminal

--A lot of things said by and about Roy indicate that he’s a teetotaller who went through AA and specifically became Catholic and is making an effort at converting Caz.

--I think it’s entertaining how Scottish nicknames often follow a pattern of shortening/rejiggering that I also see a lot with Australian nicknames—Cameron becomes Caz, Rafferty becomes Raffs, etc. Trots is an unusual one but is almost certainly a reference to him being a communist, presumably a Trotskyist. Gibbo is also an unusual one in that it’s just very silly. There’s a kind of indignity implied in being killed by a guy called Gibbo.

--A few times on the radio you hear the Shipping Forecast, a type of weather report aimed at specifically reporting weather conditions out on the ocean, and is also famous for the report being read in such a calm, soothing tone that some folk use it as a sleep aid.

--All the yellow paint for interactable things is very video gamey, yes, but is also in line with old British health and safety standards, and yellow paint on things like emergency ladders or on the edges of stairs that are trip hazards is a thing ou can still see in some older buildings.

--Caz keeps saying he’s “good with the leccy”; leccy=electricity. Caz is implied to be quite a wee guy who can get through a lot of tight spaces, and my uncle swears blind that electricians used to refuse to take on apprentices over a certain size because they only wanted to train wee guys who could get up into the tight spaces that a lot of older buildings are full of. On that note, “wee man” is a term of endearment, generally, and isn’t exclusively applied to short guys.

--Finlay saying of Gibbo that “he’s no right” is INCREDIBLY OMINOUS. It sounds mild but “he’s no right, that boy” is what older folk say about a child who’s been found disembowelling cats for fun or someone they strongly suspect is a pedophile. It’s not something you’d say about a friend who’s just acting a bit unusually.

– “Great minds united over a Buckie”--Buckfast, or Buckie, is a caffienated tonic wine that’s cheap, widely accessible, and is a bit like rocket fuel for bad decisions.

– “Ya roaster” tbh I don’t really know where it comes from, calling someone a roaster, but I’ve always felt like it has a vibe of telling them they’re huffing their own farts.

--Scunnert/scunnered--buggered, screwed, utterly fucked, etc

– “You’re the jammiest bastart on this rig” Someone who is jammy is someone who has incredible luck that is implied to be related to their sheer confidence or willingness to engage in risky behaviour. Walking along the street and finding a pound coin isn’t jammy; crossing the road confident that the cars won’t hit you and stopping in the middle to pick up a pound coin before making it unscathed to the other side is jammy as all hell.

--Barlinnie is the biggest prison in Scotland, and largely hosts violent offenders—it’s where Caz would definitely go for hospitalizing a man.

--Weans are children (contraction of wee yins/wee ones). I thought this one was contextually obvious but apparently not.

SPOILERS BELOW

--”One spark and the whole thing’ll go up”—this is referring to the wee spark of flame in the lighter used to blow up the rig, but is also kind of a pun because electricians are often called sparks or sparkies, and in the end it’s Caz who blows up the rig.

[hellfire--cult]

Johnny Storm x Fem!Reader

wc: 6.7k+

summary: Johnny grows infatuated with you, something he never thought was going to happen to him, at least for a long while. He liked being single, but then you came along, and all he could think about was you... then you got kidnapped thanks to him, and he felt so guilty for it... but not everything was as it seemed.

warnings: +18 smut, p in v (no protection), roughness, hate fucking, some fluffiness, branding of skin, description of getting burnt, slapping, some violence, porn with plot

a/n: I had this vision that needed to be written cause it would not leave my fucking mind, and this was the only chance i would be able to write something like this. I will clarify, this is my first ever MCU fic, and I do not believe I will write anything else for it, at least not now. If you are from the MCU fandom, and decide to follow me, don't expect more really... i mainly write stranger things, i was just... too haunted with this image...

Anyways, I love Joseph Quinn, so I pictured HIS Johnny Storm for this (yes, he triggered the thots.)

thank u to @andvys and @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading this and helping with my editing cause i never wrote marvel and i needed their opinion, i love both thank u

Enjoy and don't forget to reblog!

BRAND ME

When Johnny Storm saw you for the first time, he thought Cupid fired an arrow his way.

Now, it wasn’t the best of situations of course, he had to save you from a slight altercation regarding some of Doctor Doom’s subjects wreaking havoc in the city and all that, and he saved you by beating up the guy that held you hostage in spirits of saving his ass. 

You had thanked him, smiled at him and he may or may have not thought of having you as one of his conquests. He was known for it, you absolutely knew about it, but he couldn’t really help himself when he started talking to you. He first asked to meet up with you privately and you immediately rejected his advances, surprising him, sure, but not stopping him, so you offered to meet up with him for a coffee after work. 

Coffee was not something he did often. It was usually drinks, and to be fair, no women really ever said no to him. Sure he messed up a few times, but who hasn’t? Still, sharing a coffee with you didn’t sound like a bad idea. It was different, but different didn’t always mean bad. 

So you gave him the address to your building, and at 1 PM sharp on Tuesday, he met up with you right outside of it. You were wearing the typical office attire, skirt to the knees, a nice blouse, a comfortable jacket and he still thought you looked absolutely beautiful. Sitting down at the coffee shop, you two talked, and talked, and he found out so much about you.

You were an only child, and you have been working since you could remember. You lived alone, you liked to cook, and you absolutely disliked pickles. Every small thing he found out about you, he reciprocated with a fact about himself, without giving much away of course.

One coffee date turned into two. Then four. Then, counting didn’t matter anymore.

For a month he has been seeing you, and never once has he made a move on you. It’s not that he didn’t want to… He absolutely wanted to. But you were different. You were completely different from all the flings he had, and he even tried to have one after meeting you and it felt pointless. He didn’t know himself any longer, even Reed got a little worried from all the sneaking around he did, but Johnny couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help it when it came to you.

You were magnificent, a breath of fresh air to be around with. You always greeted him with a smile to your face and he’s never felt more alive when you did. He, of course, had to be careful with you. Not because of trust, but of what might happen to you if you were seen being involved with one of the Fantastic Four. He always picked out private places for the two of you to meet, away from public eyes. 

Coffee shops turned into take-out coffees and parks. Talks that happened at your home’s balcony. Him looking for a comforting shoulder after a long day of being a hero. He was always careful in keeping you away from public. In keeping you a secret. In keeping you safe.

But not careful enough.

When you didn’t answer your phone that day, his heart stopped. You always answered. He tried and tried but you just wouldn’t pick up and he became restless. He flew out of the headquarters, not caring for the waves people gave him, with your apartment as his only destination. He felt himself growing cold despite being up in flames, flying, the horrible feeling that something happened to you making him want to puke.

And when he arrived at your home, he froze. Your balcony’s sliding door was open and what he saw inside made his whole world shatter. Your things were all thrown to the floor. Your furniture was destroyed. Your pictures were all broken and shattered. And then, as he put a foot into your apartment, he saw you. 

You were breathing heavily as you lay on the floor, facing down, and your hair was all over your face. He rushed towards you, jumping over everything that was on the floor, and immediately dropped to his knees in order to scoop you up in his arms and turn you. He pushed the hair off your face as his heart beat loudly in his chest, only for it to come to a stop as he saw the open wound on your eyebrow and the bruise that was starting to form all around it. 

“Crap– fuck!” He felt his world plummeting to the ground as he tried shaking you awake, calling out your name, and he sighed with relief as your eyes slowly opened, only for your face to contort into a wince.

“What…?” He shook his head at you and held onto your form, one arm underneath the back of your knees while the other was wrapped behind your back. He got up on his two feet with ease as he rushed towards the balcony. You made a sound of discomfort as you were moved around, and all he wanted was to keep you safe right now. He needed to take you with him. He cannot leave you alone, not when all of this is probably his fault.

“It’ll be quick, I promise…” He took a deep breath as he controlled his flames temperature, ensuring it would not go towards his arms. Your eyes looked up to meet his, his eyes that were now fiery orbs, looking down at you with sadness displayed on his eyebrows. You whined through the pain again and he immediately leaped out of your balcony.

You could feel the heat off his body, but he made sure to make it as less uncomfortable as he could, but he still knew he had to be quick. He was angry, desperate, and that wasn’t making the flames be any less intense. He knew he was gonna break a rule, but he couldn’t give two shits for the consequences he might face with his family. His sister was going to kill him, but she will understand. They all will have to understand.

He sneaked you in, heading straight to his room, laying you down on his bed. The rage he felt with himself was scorching him from the inside out, so he took the top of his suit as fast as he could and rushed towards the bathroom to get one of his medical kits. 

He aided you, cleaned your wound, put the butterfly strip over it, and even gave you medicine for any impending headaches. He checked for other wounds besides the one on your eye, but there was nothing else, at least from the places where your clothes did not cover you. 

An hour passed and you were slowly coming back to your senses. You opened your eyes to see him walking back and forth, pacing, worry displayed on his features as he seemed deep in thought. You slowly sat up on the bed, looking around, wincing slightly thanks to the throbbing in your head.

“Johnny?” Your voice was small but it was enough for his head to snap towards you and rush to the bed, sitting on the edge right next to you. His hand came up to caress the side of face, making sure to not touch the bruise on your eye.

“Hey…” His eyes were filled with fear, anger, sadness, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat as your eyes roamed all over the room.

“Where… am I?” Your eyes found his again and he gulped, thumb caressing your cheek softly.

“My room… I– I couldn’t leave you alone…” Your eyes widened for just a second to then look down at your hands. Your breathing turned heavy as your eyes filled with tears, shaking your head at him.

“I– I thought it was you… I opened the sliding door and– They wanted information–” Your voice was cut off with a sob and Johnny saw how you winced in pain, your hand flying to press onto your temple and he quickly shushed you, scooching closer to you, lifting his hand to grab yours gently and move it away from your face.

“Don’t touch it– I… I seriously thought I was careful in keeping you safe and hidden… I screwed up.” Your eyes met his, seeing the guilt that was flooding inside, knowing he was torturing himself because of it. His lips were downturned, disappointment written all over. You shook your head at him, your hand grasping his.

“I don’t regret a minute of it…” His eyes met yours as you guided your gaze around the room, frowning slightly as your headache seemed to start to drift away. “So this is your room…” “Fantastic Four headquarters… nobody knows I sneaked you in, but I really couldn’t care less. I won’t let you out of my sight, at least until whoever is stalking me is captured.” You turned towards him again, a soft smile on your lips that made his heart combust in its own flames.

“Probably a fan.” Even now you still joked to him, when you were the one hurt. You were too beautiful. Too incredible, even for his own good. He should be careful with his moves, he should let you know how different you are to his other flings… but his body betrayed him as his free hand came towards your cheek, holding it gently, and his lips surged forward, slotting right onto yours.

Your eyes were wide as a surprised gasp fell from your lips, but you reciprocated that kiss, even if a bit hesitant at first. His lips moved with yours as his body started rising in temperature which he was trying to keep at a warm number. He could easily control his temperature but with you, he was finding it hard to do so. 

He was happy because you were not pulling away from the kiss. You were moving into it, following his lead, not even stopping it after your tongues started to dance together. He wanted you. He definitely wanted to show you just how special you are but– You were hurt, and he can’t do that to you now… so he pulled away. Your breaths were heavy as you looked at each other and he rubbed your cheek with his thumb.

“I’ll tell everyone  tomorrow you’re staying here for a while. You need safety, and I can give that to you… Just stay with me…” He held you so gently, afraid of you running away, or disappearing right before him. You licked your lips as you nodded slowly at him, to which he responded with a satisfied smile. He leaned forward, pecking your lips once more before getting up which alarmed you, getting hold of his hand.

“Where are you going?” Your voice was small and he thought he was going to break listening to it. 

“I’m not going anywhere, just going to get you some clothes for you to sleep in, baby.” Your eyes widened at the new petname, but Johnny noticed how you tried to look away from embarrassment, and he found you too cute. He will definitely protect you. He won’t let whoever is looking for him, or his team, hurt you. 

But when he fell asleep and cuddled up to you after having some tea with you before bed, he didn’t expect to be awoken in the middle of the night to a ring of his cell phone. He was startled, sitting up on the bed quickly only to realize you were not by his side. He looked around frantically and grabbed his phone from the night table next to his bed. He answered it, getting up from the bed to walk towards his bathroom in hopes of seeing you in there.

“Hello?” And all he heard was heavy breathing on the other side until a raspy, robotic voice talked.

“How does it feel to wake up alone?” And Johnny’s blood drained, evaporated, and he knows you are not in the building. How did it happen? How? There were cameras, security, detectors, how?

“What the fuck did you do to her?” His voice was coming from in between his teeth, like a growl, a hiss, a threat. The other voice only laughed, igniting Johnny’s anger even more than before.

“Come find out. We’re at her old apartment. We have to talk, Johnny, so come alone.” And like that, the line clicked. He was breathing heavily as he looked down at his phone and his hand shook as he grunted, his eyes igniting in yellow as the hand that was holding his phone set aflame, destroying the device before he threw it across the room, making it hit and for the plastic to splash onto the wall. 

He ran his hands through his hair, wanting to rip it all out, to burn the whole building down. If he didn’t tell anyone, he might die, but if he does, then you… He couldn’t. He has a chance, even if alone. He has to save you, he can’t let them have you, he can’t let you suffer because of him. 

So he stepped out to his balcony, his body engulfed in flames as he leaped into the sky, headed straight to your apartment. He was trying to go as fast as he could, his breathing heavy with anticipation as he swerved through the buildings. He finally got onto your balcony, the sliding doors were open again but when he looked inside, he couldn’t help but feel confused.

He took a few steps in as his flames subdued, and all your furniture was gone. All your pictures, even the cabinets… it was just empty. Empty except for the big windows that were on the side. What happened?

A chuckle coming from one corner startled him. It was the robotic voice that slowly transformed into a female one. A voice he knew too well. A voice that never chuckled in that manner, always be it a giggle, or a little scoff, but never… this. He turned to face it, and his eyes widened as the figure stepped into the small bit of light that came through the windows thanks to the night sky.

“Aren’t you a little naive Johnny?” 

And there, in front of him, was you. Face hard, wearing a simple cocktail black dress, some black heels… nothing like what you normally wear. You didn’t look dizzy because of your bruise, the butterfly strip he applied to you hours ago was still there. It was you… but at the same time, it wasn’t.

“W-What…?” He stuttered, not feeling the tips of his fingers as he looked at how you slowly walked towards him, throwing a device to the ground, a voice-changing device. 

“I really didn’t think you would take me to your headquarters. Not this quickly at least.” You sighed, looking out the window as you kept talking. “I had a whole large plan for it, but you just had to make it THAT easy.”

You finished with a giggle, the giggle that he knew too well. The giggle you directed to him many times when he told you stories about Sue and him. Stories about how he made a fool out of himself on a few dates. The giggle that he liked so much… all for it to be a fucking lie. You–

“You lied to me… You–” He felt his heart twist as your eyes turned to meet his once more. He really isn’t lucky, isn’t he? The first time he feels something genuine and he gets stepped on by the universe. You took a step towards him as you put your hands behind your back.

“Not all the time. I can promise that, but my boss will be glad to hear I got into the headquarters in such a short period of time…” Your eyes studied his face, seeing how his features turned from shock to anger, slowly, making a wicked grin appear on your face. “Aw… are you mad?”

“What the fuck do you think?” His voice turned low, and it almost made you freeze in your place, but you kept talking, your head high.

“You look cute when mad. I wish I could take a picture right now–”

“Stop–”

“I would hang it up, frame it… Name it ‘My best show yet’.” Johnny felt his body start to burn, and he had to try to keep the flames from igniting out of his suit, but each word you spat out, made it more and more difficult for him to hold himself back.

“I said stop–”

“I just didn’t think it would be this quick. Who would've thought that Johnny Storm would be so desperate for actual love? So much, he throws himself head first like an idiot–” 

A hand came to grab the back of your head, fingers gripping onto your scalp, grabbing your hair, and yanking your head backwards with no restraint, no care. And suddenly your eyes were looking at the Human Torch. His eyes were yellow flames, his face, his hair, his body, everything was on fire and it was burning you. He was baring his teeth at you, your face illuminated by his flames, and you noticed the hand holding the back of your head was not lit.

“I could kill you right now. I could easily burn you to a crisp for no one to find your body.” You trembled under his grasp, and your breathing turned a little heavy as you stared into his flaming eyes.

“But you won’t…” Your reply was soft, making the flames go down, making you breathe out in relief, feeling the cool air again on your body and face. He was still glaring, his nose slightly scrunched up in anger, in disgust. “Approaching you romantically was never the intention.” 

That made him tilt his head at you, his eyebrow twitching at the mention of romance. Of how he was so close to having it but–

“Why tell me this? Why not keep the fucking act until you have more?” And you didn’t answer him, still under his grasp as you looked up at him. He couldn’t describe what he saw in your eyes, but he knew that it wasn’t hatred. He knew that there was a feeling that you shouldn’t be experiencing but you couldn’t help it.

So you stayed silent, swallowing as you kept your eyes on him. You saw him tremble slightly and he raised his free hand, making your gaze turn to it as the flames enveloped it all, to the tip of his fingers. It wasn’t a massive flame, more like embers, small, yet damaging. 

You felt anything but scared of him, and he knows it, yet his anger fuels him in ways he cannot describe, and he wants to show you. He wants to show you just how fucking angry, enraged, he is. He wants to hurt you, burn you, engrave himself deep on your skin and in your mind. 

“Say you don’t want this.” He needs to know if he connected the dots right. Why tell him? Why tell him who you truly were? Why not keep faking it to get more out of him? Did you take whatever you needed in the short period he kept you there? Those few little hours…

You remained silent, looking into his eyes as you struggled in his grasp slightly. Your right hand flew to the wrist holding the back of your head, which only made him pull on your hair once more, making you wince. It was another warning, another chance for you to push him away.

But you didn’t.

His right hand lifted up to reveal that it was slowly being covered in small embers, not yet flames, and he pressed it on your back. Your eyes widened when you felt heat engulf your back, the scent of burning fabric filling your nostrils. You winced when the burning turned a bit painful, his eyes not leaving your face. 

He was still scowling at you, his eyes traveling to your exposed neck as his hand kept moving on your back, making small holes in it, the embers spreading slightly. He knew he was burning you, but it doesn’t compare to what you did to him. You will heal from these superficial burns.

You wanted to tell him to hurry up, but you knew that you weren’t the one with control right now, so you had to be careful with your words. You yelped when his hand started moving to your front, leaving embers fluttering over the black satin. It was burning easily, the material too thin, too flimsy. 

His eyes caught onto yours once more. You were breathing heavily, waiting for his next move. He clenched his jaw as the memories of those picnics filled his head. Those movie nights. Those nights when you told him about your family. You showed him those pictures that were on your wall that you probably faked. Those pictures were all fake.

His fist grabbed onto the front of your dress and pulled on it as he grunted from the force. Your dress ripped easily away from your body thanks to the holes that were burned on your back and side. Your body will probably have scarring, burnt marks, or red spots, but you couldn’t help the excitement in your body when he held your torn dress in his hand.

His eyes turned to it for a second and then back at you. You saw how they glowed in a deep yellow and his hand engulfed into flames, your dress catching on fire and burning into ashes in three seconds. His eyes returned to their natural color as his hand dropped, and then he could finally take a look at your half-naked form. 

You took the opportunity of his distraction to push him away, making him rip his hand off your hair, looking at you with surprise and anger. You were breathing heavily in just your bra and thong, a matching black set, looking at him, the anger in you also coming out to light after how he treated you. 

Anger, but no hatred. Not from your side… nor his.

So you took a sharp intake of breath as you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you slammed your lips against his, connecting your chest to his. He groaned at the kiss, his arms immediately wrapping around your frame, his lips moving against yours instantly, like a starved man. Weeks of wanting this with you, dreaming of having you, but he never thought it would be like this.

You bit his bottom lip, yanking a bit on it with your teeth, provoking a protest on his part but you silenced it by sliding your tongue into his mouth. You moaned in satisfaction as his right hand slid downwards, grabbing onto your ass cheek and squeezing tight. You responded by raising your leg up, thigh against his hip, while his hand moved, leaving your behind to graze your thigh, gripping it tightly to hold you in place.

His hips pressed against your core, earning him a moan from you. You felt his buckle against your clothed cunt as well as his hardness as he rutted himself on you, moaning into your mouth. One of your hands went towards his hair, running your fingers through it and then you gripped tightly, pulling his head backwards and away from the kiss. He hissed at the action, his eyes connecting with your defiant ones.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?” Your voice came out through your teeth, a taunt. He gave a tilt of his head as if asking if you were really defying him right now. You could almost see the smoke coming out of his nostrils as he huffed in anger, his hands flying to the back of your thighs, pushing you upwards with his strength, making you yelp slightly at the sudden movement.

Your legs instantly wrapped around his waist so you wouldn’t fall, but then your back was slammed against the window, with such force that you were amused by how strong the glass was. You whimpered at the coldness against your naked back and ass, eyes glaring back at him.

“You think you have the right to talk back to me right now?” One of his hands left your thigh so it could get between the two of you. His lips reconnected to yours before you could even reply back to him, and you heard how he started undoing his buckle, that ‘F4’ shaped stupid belt he had.

You felt him move underneath you and you heard the rustling of clothes and then something pressing against your wet thong, making you whimper into the kiss. You pulled away to look down in between the two of you, and he had pulled his pants and underwear mid-thighs, enough to let his cock free, which was now pressing against you.

He got hold of the elastic of your thong, pinching it between his thumb and index finger, pulling it away from your body. You then saw a tiny and quick flame set fire and it quickly snapped the elastic apart, making your thong drop from your cunt, left to dangle thanks to the scraps still holding onto your other thigh. 

You were exposed to him now, and then he pressed himself against your aching clit, rutting his hips against yours, causing a beautiful friction that left you moaning, throwing your head back, thumping against the glass.

He groaned as he looked at your exposed neck, moving forward so he could bite on the side of it, making you wince as your clit kept being hit with the ridge of his dick. It was hot. Literally hot. Not even warm temperature, it was burning and you wondered how that would feel inside of you. 

He was coating his cock with your wetness, and he couldn’t be bothered with foreplay, he didn’t care for it, and you didn’t either, not that you needed it. You’ve been wet the moment he gripped your hair. So he pulled his hips back, letting the tip of his cock kiss your clit for a brief second before it caught on your entrance.

A voiceless moan got caught on your throat, where his teeth still remained, as he slowly pushed inside and– it was a perfect burn and stretch. He was perfect as he seethed himself inside, your walls fluttering in need around him as his mouth unlatched from your throat in order to look at how your face contorted at each inch of him.

“Good. That shut you up.” He held back the groans as he watched how your eyes were wide, looking in between the two of you now, seeing how his cock was disappearing inside of you. He wanted to hate you. He wished he could. It wasn’t fair that even now all he could think about was you, even if it wasn’t like before.

He cracked his neck as he felt his control slipping away, afraid of letting his flames burst out without his intention. He slammed his hand on the glass, right next to your head, as his left one gripped your thigh tightly and he struck his hips forward, bottoming out inside of you in one forceful thrust. 

You gasped as your eyes met his. He was deliciously deep. There was a little bit of discomfort due to not having any prep but it was worth it. He was breathing heavily as he looked at you and your eyes danced with his in uncertainty, in rage, in sadness, in confusion. He was letting you adjust, or maybe he was just catching his breath, either way, you didn’t think you deserved it.

“You’re gonna cum already Johnny boy?” He gave you a glare, which only made you smirk at him. You didn’t deserve the kindness, at least not from him. He started pulling out of you, only to roughly slam back in, causing you to choke on your own moan. You felt it in your throat almost. And then, he set the bruising pace. No mercy, slamming into you like a wild man.

The glass behind you shook, the metal hinges making loud sounds as he kept smashing his hips against yours over and over again, not leaving a single second for conscious thought, not leaving a single second for even a memory to slip through the both of you. All he wanted was to pour his anger out, all he needed was to show you how you made him feel then and how you made him feel now.

The sound of skin slapping echoed through the now empty apartment, an apartment where he spent a few nights with your company. He growled at the memory, his hips picking up a pace as your moans raised in pitch, your fingers digging into his shoulders, scratching on him while your eyes filled with tears. Was it pleasure? He didn’t know.

“Not acting so smartass now, huh?” You choked out a moan as you tried to speak but he was piercing you right where you needed. Your g-spot was being abused at each sharp thrust of his. Punch. Punch. Punch.

You felt your body heating up, more than any other time you slept with someone, feeling as if you were sweating more than you should and you knew it was him. You knew he was raising the temperature of his body, including the one in the entire room. Your forehead was sweaty, your neck, your chest that was still covered in your bra that you now need to rip off because it was just too fucking hot.

You lowered a hand and pressed it against the glass, right next to you, and you grunted as you pushed against it, forcing him to stumble backwards. He fell to the ground, holding onto you, his back hitting the floor, his dick never slipping out of you as you landed on him, which caused you to choke. 

You were breathing heavily as you looked down at him, who only winced slightly at the sudden hit on his ass and back. Your hands were now on his chest, still covered with his suit. You stared at the number 4 logo, glaring at it, and then your eyes found his. He was looking at you now with furrowed brows, sad instead of angry ones. 

You didn’t deserve those.

Your hands went towards your back, unclasping your bra off and ripping it off your body. A sigh of relief escapes you as the air hits the sweat that’s on your tits. Your hips started circling against him, slowly, and he threw his head back as his hands gripped your hips, his digits digging into your skin. 

Your belly coiled as you started rising yourself up and then slam back down again, knees pressing against the hard floor, knowing you will be bruised tomorrow, but you could give two shits about that right now. His hands traveled upwards, grabbing onto your breasts and everywhere he touched just left a lingering feeling of warmth, of burning. 

You threw your head back as his fingers pinched your nipples, making your belly coil as you slammed yourself down again and circled your hips against him, making the tip of his cock rub against your g-spot repeatedly. He moaned your name in pleasure, the first time he did during the night and you looked down at him.

“You sure that’s my name?” And his eyes clashed with yours in new found anger, sitting up as his left hand gripped your waist, while the rest remained on your hip. His face came close to yours as his words became venomous.

“I wonder how many names you had to come up with. With how many you had to whore yourself to in order to get information for your boss. Whoever that might be.” And him calling you a slut was not something you expected. You didn’t want him to think that. You became angry. Not at him, but yet, you had to direct it towards someone.

So you slapped him. 

His head was turned with wide eyes and you had to pretend you weren’t shocked at your own actions. You looked at your hand and then back at him, opening your mouth to say something but as he slowly turned to face you again, you knew you had fucked up. You saved yourself by talking once more.

“I didn’t jump your bones. You jumped mine, back in your room. Who’s the actual whore here, Johnny?” And you let him have the small memory of that innocent kiss he gave you. Of that kiss that made him so happy you had reciprocated, only for that memory to be shattered, tainted. His glare turned murderous as he looked at you. 

You started feeling the areas he was grabbing you at become hotter and hotter. Your breathing became heavy in nervousness as your head turned to look at his hands which were becoming redder by the second. He laid back down and pushed his hips up, making you raise yourself a bit on your knees and before you could say something, he started slamming himself inside of you once more.

Your mind became mush in an instant, your moans choking up your voice as he hit your insides over and over again, the slapping of skin loud and quick. Your belly started turning, the elastic band about to snap as your hands dug into his chest. And then, you screamed as pain took you out of your pleasure palace.

The smell of burning filled the room, very slightly, faint, but still there. You looked down at where he was holding you, and his hands were now almost as red bright as metal against fire. He didn’t stop his pounding either, growling as he looked at you with his yellow irises, filled with flames.

“This is your reminder of who you betrayed. For you to remember me.” 

Tears fell down your cheeks as you felt the pain of your skin being burnt, of being branded by him, and then your climax hit you out of nowhere. You choked out a whimper, a cry of his name as your walls tightened around him, pulsating. His balls tightened with the need for his own release, and he cooled his hands once more but kept them in place on your body.

He groaned loudly at your tightness and he looked at how tears fell down your face as well as the drool that had pooled in the corner of your mouth. He cursed under his breath and slammed his hips upwards one more time, completely seething himself inside as his cum filled your insides and you felt the heat of it. You could feel it. 

He was breathing heavily as he lowered his hips, his hands keeping you in place so you wouldn’t lower on him. He hissed as he pulled out of you, his cum already dripping down from your hole, falling on the red tip of his cock. Your eyes looked down at his hands as they slowly parted from your skin, a squelching sound following after.

You were bleeding in some places, layers of your skin successfully burnt with his handprints. They were hurting you, they were very painful, and you… you couldn’t be mad at him for them. Your eyes connected to his as he lay there looking at his own hands, trembling at the sight.

Pieces of your burnt skin were stuck to his hands, on his palms. He lost control. He didn’t want to hurt you like this. You saw the guilt that displayed on his face and you raised your hand, wanting to touch him and tell him–

“Shit…” You winced before you could say anything else. He snapped out of his thoughts and sat up, pushing you to sit on the floor next to him. Without another word, he got up and you looked as he pulled his pants back up and buckled his belt once more. 

“I guess we’ll see each other again now that you’ve entered the headquarters.” He was asleep while you were there. He was sure you took something, and it was just a matter of time for you to strike the building or him. He walked towards the sliding doors, and you moved on your place, wanting to go after him, but the sharp pain of the burns made you stay put.

“Johnny… wait.” Your voice was choked, but he turned around to face you again. You felt the room becoming cooler, and you didn’t want it to be that temperature… but it had to do for now. “My name… I didn’t lie about my name.” 

His eyebrow twitched in confusion at that. Should he believe you? Should he trust you on that one? He didn’t know, he didn’t want to find out, he didn’t want to see you again, but he knew that one was inevitable. He turned away from you and you saw how his whole body turned into flames and flew out of the balcony, leaving you bruised, branded and alone.

In an empty, cold, room.

“It’s been a while since your last report, Chameleon.” 

The stupid nickname your boss gave you. You had the ability to infiltrate through people without being spotted. It wasn’t a superpower, just good hiding. 

“Got a little bit busy Boss.” Your voice was flat as you looked at how the man turned to look at you. So many people are afraid of this man, but there was something about Doctor Doom that just made you want to laugh.

“I hope that ‘bit busy’ was to get the information we need.” His voice was threatening, menacing as he looked at you through the screen. You gave him a sharp nod.

“Yes, I was planning my next encounter with Storm.” At your report, he gave a small nod of approval. You felt your bandages becoming sticky underneath your oversized sweater. It was about time to change them again, so you had to make this a quick call.

“I see. So, you still didn’t get into the headquarters then?” And you wanted to smile at his question. You wanted to show him how fucked he was, but you held yourself back because you had another plan in action, one that doesn’t include a boss.

“No sir. I require more time to create a bond with him.” He gave a small nod as his sharp tone filled the speakers.

“Get it done.” And the call ended abruptly.

You stared at the black screen, a smile appearing on your face as you slowly got up from the couch, walking towards the windows that were all blacked out. You pressed a button that was on the side and the windows returned to be transparent, showing the city lights in the night.

But what caught your attention was the orange gleam that was far away, still, floating, as if looking your way. You knew it was him. He has been waiting for you to turn the windows transparent once again. You had blacked out the apartment from his view for a whole week. You had refurbished it again, even hung up a real picture this time, the only one in the room.

One of you and him. One that you took at a picnic you had planned for the both of you. One that wasn’t part of the plan. Like the theater. Like the nights spent in this fake apartment. Like the drinks spent on a terrace. But he didn’t know that. 

And then you saw him fly away, making your heart plummet to the floor. You winced as you turned to walk towards your kitchen, ready to take care of your wounds. Of his markings. Of his handprints that will permanently stay on your skin. 

It was funny. First, you betrayed Johnny, and now you are betraying your boss, someone who might rip you apart the moment he finds out you’ve been lying. Yet, you are more scared of losing the only fire that made you feel alive after a long while. 

You’ll keep that flame alive. You have to. 

You’ll make sure it does.

end

a/n: um, yeah, the thot was the burning of clothes, like, how was i supposed to do that one with just like, a normal person with no superpowers... with a lighter? not sexy enough.

also, handprints.

ta-ta

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi bunny!! Can I please get scones with a side of juice, served by Max Verstappen? 🫡 thx bae

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? check out the menu! i've been really back to writing since my chest infection got better so please! send me orders! i love seeing what ya'll request!! as for this one, thank you so much!

scones ("but what if they see us!) + juice (cockwarming) served by max verstappen (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, semi-public sex, oral sex (max receiving), cockwarming, risky sex, girlfriend!reader

sim racing was supposed to be fun. a relaxing activity for max to turn off part of his brain that was working overtime after a practice. it made logistical sense that after a long day of racing, he would go home and race some more.

but maybe that was max's weird brain.

so, why streaming with his friend was he so stressed. and why his eyes were less on the game in front of him and more on the camera. he scratched the side of his face as he tried to compose himself. but it was rather hard when his lovely, caring, kind, amazing girlfriend was between his legs with his cock in your mouth.

this all started as a bet. you had heard all about max's self control, that max was a storm that he kept at bay. he had nerves of steel. so it was simple, he got to stream with the boys and not break concentration.

"but what if they see us!" was max's first questions. but you silenced him with a few kisses and told him it would be fine. this only piqued his interest, "and what if i win this bet?" he asked as he snaked an arm around you shoulders. you were pulled close to him. his competitive spirit got the best of him.

you rubbed his chest and giggled, "well, anything you want, max. anything, well, except maybe murder. but, any which way you want to fuck me, you can have. but!" you tapped his nose, "only if you win."

"and what if you win?"

you just smiled at him, "oh don't worry, max." you waved your hand at him, "no need to worry about that at all!" which only alarmed him further.

so now he was white-knuckled on the steering wheel as he tried to keep up the conversation with his friends over the discord call. his attention was split three ways and it was making his brain melt.

it was a little over stimulaing, but the constant throb of your lips around his cock managed to anchor him to some kind of reality. the feeling was familiar.

in all fairness, you quite enjoyed his cock in your mouth. even with the blanket over his head and lap to keep your little secret hidden. it was hot under the fleece blanket, but when max shifted every so often, it made it worth it.

"yeah, mate, yeah." max said idly, he exhaled deeply as he tried to compose himself. but it was hard when you started to move your head a little more. his eyes almost rolled back into his head. he couldn't even grab the back of your head.

that would blow your entire cover.

but, deep down the entire thing was painfully hot. the thrill of possibly being caught. of having to be sneaky. it was rare that you two were sneaking around, so moments like these made liquid heat course through his veins.

you shifted a little under the blanket and continued to lick at his cock.

he felt your name on his tongue, but kept it together. even though it was a private call between friends. he didn't want to blow your cover, but it was hard when your mouth was on him so nicely.

usually he liked to hold onto your head and rock his cock up against your throat. so to leave everything up to you while he tried to split his attention was hard.

"how's your girl, mate?" he heard.

he frozen for a moment and felt you squeeze his thigh. he cleared his throat and said, "oh you know, same old, same old." your tongue grazed his achy tip and he almost threw the steering wheel. he exhaled once more, "i mean, she's fantastic as always." he chuckled.

he shifted in his seat a little bit and you giggled to yourself as you kept his cock in your mouth. you made a small noise and max coughed to cover the noise.

he thought he was done with the race, but was coaxed into another. and it was getting even harder to keep it together. he could feel his cock in the back of your throat.

you felt like a dream, you always felt like a dream. right now he wanted to just got his fingers into your hair and push his cock as deep as it'll go. he wanted to stain your throat with his cum.

"pretty girl." he muttered to himself absently.

his friend asked, "what was that?"

max's eyes went wide for a moment, he said, "nothing, nothing! just thinking about what my girl is making for dinner tonight." he nervously scratched his face, "she's my pretty girl, right? sorry, mate, too deep in my thoughts."

his cock hurt, but his balls hurt more. he felt his heartbeat in his ears, which made it harder for him to focus on what his friends were saying.

"shit." he exhaled deeply, the sweat clung to his neck.

the orgasm crept up on him, he tried to split his attention. but primal need to climax down your pretty throat overtook his mind. he held back any lustful noises and coughed into the collar of his shirt as he came in your mouth.

you swallowed hastily and heard the slight noises that your boyfriend was making. you had fully broken him. he heard him cough through another moan as his cock grew soft in your mouth.

"hey mate." max said, his jaw tense. he could feel the blood in his face, "i have to go real quick, i'll talk to you soon, yeah?" and didn't wait for a response before he turned off his camera and left the discord call.

when he knew everything was off, he leaned back in his seat and covered his face with his hands. his heart was pounding as he felt you got up. soon the blanket that was covering your head was now covering both of yours.

you gave him a searing kiss and draped your arms around him. the kiss tasted salty and it made max's exposed cock twitch. you said in a sing-song voice, "i win!"

he groaned and looked at you, he could feel the what radiating off of you. he took the blanket off of you both and you and said, "please, whatever you do. just be gentle." <3

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 7 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You felt exhausted and unappealing at the start of your third trimester, but according to your husband, you were still perfect. Just as you solve one problem for your friend, you inadvertently cause another one for yourself.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, Bradley eating pussy, swearing, angst, pregnancy

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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

As nice as your second trimester had been, as soon as it ended, you were exhausted all the time. And you were once again starting to feel nauseous every morning. Maybe your mom was right and you needed to eat more than random foods dipped in hot sauce sporadically all day long. Your belly was also starting to change from a cute bump to a tender, oversized monster. When you mentioned it to Bradley, he scoffed. 

"Don't call my Nugget a monster."

"I'm not talking about the baby!" you said as you started to get dressed for work in your maternity tent, gesturing at your body. "But there's a lot going on here."

"Yeah," Bradley grunted as he pulled a clean flight suit from the closet, eyeing you up and down. "There sure is. You look fantastic."

"I feel tired. And gross," you told him as you got dressed.

"That's just the hideous uniform talking. You didn't feel gross last night when we were snuggling. And you certainly didn't look gross."

You wanted to agree with him, but you were in a bad mood. The attic still wasn't finished even though your contractor, Bradley Ross, was at your house so frequently, it felt like he had moved in. And your parents would be here in four days. And your house still wasn't decorated for the holiday. And the only gifts you managed to buy were matching pink tropical shirts for Bradley and the baby to wear next summer. 

Your husband zipped up his flight suit and made his way around the bed to where you were standing. "Would you feel better if I picked up dinner on my way home so you don't have to cook?"

"Probably," you muttered, trying not to smile.

He kissed your forehead and gave you his most innocent looking gaze as his fingers grazed your belly. "And after that, I'll eat your pussy until my jaw locks up and you're in tears from too many orgasms?"

You had to press your lips together for a few seconds before you could say, "Please."

"Then it's a date, Baby Girl," he said before kissing you on the lips, leaving you to chase him for another feel of his rough mustache before you let him leave for his early flight time. "I love you and the Nugget!" he called from the hallway.

"We love you, too!"

Five minutes after he left, you were still getting ready for work. In fact, when your doorbell rang and Tramp went running through the living room, you were still buttoning your tent shirt. "I'm coming," you called out, already knowing it was your contractor. When you pulled the door open, your shirt was buttoned mostly correctly, and you told him, "I'm just about to head out."

"Okay," he replied, taking you in before you stepped aside for him. It didn't matter what your husband said, you were a bit of a hot mess right now. And that reminded you that you needed a little bit of hot sauce before you left for work.

"Do you need anything from me?" you asked Bradley Ross, and his gaze dipped down to your horrible uniform.

"Not at all," he replied, turning toward the stairs. "Enjoy your day."

You parted ways and headed for the kitchen, and you realized your shirt was even worse than you anticipated. You had to unbutton and rebutton the whole thing while your bread was in the toaster. When it came out nice and crunchy, you dipped it into a dish of hot sauce and ate it in four bites.

"It's so fucking good," you moaned at Tramp before scooping him some breakfast. "No hot sauce for you. Just for the human baby," you told him, holding your hand near your belly button as Rose started doing her somersaults. "You're up late this morning," you told her, deciding you better stop in the bathroom one more time before you even attempted the short drive to work with her bouncing on your bladder.

As soon as you were done and walked back through your bedroom, you eyed your bed longingly. "No," you told it, turning away from temptation and walking out to your red Bronco in the driveway. You backed out past the other Bradley's truck and drove to base.

You were already hungry again by the time you got there. When you turned the corner to your office, you found Maria standing next to your door. "Are you waiting for me?" you asked, and her gaze snapped up to yours. "I'm surprised you're here this early with Bob blowing your back out twenty-four hours a day." Tears filled her eyes instantly, and you rushed toward her. "Oh my god, Maria, what's wrong?"

She let you pull her into an awkward hug with your belly in the way, and she sobbed instead of responding with words, so you let her cry. She had been preoccupied at brunch with you and Cam, but she definitely hadn't been like this at all. If anything, she'd seemed like she was lost in a dream world with her French toast the other day.

She sniffed and managed to whisper, "Bob's being deployed for some special mission. He just texted me. He's leaving the day after Christmas."

"Oh," you gasped, rubbing her back as she cried. This would be the first time her boyfriend was deployed since they started hooking up a few months ago. They would be fine. You knew they would. But you recalled all too easily what it was like when Bradley was gone when you and he were first dating. It made you feel sick to recall the feelings of self doubt and uncertainty, especially now that your daughter would be arriving in three months.

You were about to tell Maria that Bob's deployment would feel terrible but wouldn't last forever when she said, "I have to break up with him."

"Pardon?" you asked, completely thrown by what she said. "I thought you were in love with him."

"I am," she cried as you finally unlocked your door with her clinging to you and managed to get her inside. "But I can't tell him that now. We've been taking things a little slower after taking things really fast right after he moved in."

You were trying your best to piece everything together, but it just wasn't all fitting in your mind. "That's good," you said gently. "So why would you have to dump him? You love him, and he'd be coming back to you and the apartment when he gets home?"

She looked at you and shook her head. "I can't expect him to go months and months without having sex. We do it like at least once a day," she whispered as tears flowed down her cheeks. "Maybe he'd agree to take a break? I don't know. But I can't get upset when he wants to hook up with someone else on the aircraft carrier."

You felt like your eyes were going to bug out. "Maria, I really don't think you should be hasty here."

She just shrugged in your arms before pulling away from you and wiping at her tears. "You're so lucky you have Bradley." She left you standing there, unsure what to say.

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

All of the holiday decorations had Bradley a little stressed out. Some of his neighbors had lights on the palm trees in their yards, and there was even a tree inside the guard house. He could remember very little about his dad, but Bradley could remember everything his mom did until he died. For the life of him, the one thing that escaped him was how she made even the most basic things feel magical.

She must have done it effortlessly, because he never took the time to look behind the proverbial curtain to see how it was done. There were always presents under their little Christmas tree even though he realized after she was gone that it must have been a struggle. And now Bradley wasn't sure how he was going to do the same when it all just seemed so stressful.

He snorted as he made his way across the tarmac to the tower. All you said you wanted for Christmas was a babymoon trip and a million orgasms. But you could have asked him for either of those on any day, and he would have given them to you. He needed to find something else for you, too.

"Are you having a baby shower?"

Bradley looked up to find his best friend was looking at him as soon as he walked into the rec room to get a drink. "Good morning to you, too," he said, reaching past her into the refrigerator. 

"You need to have one, okay?" she said. "Your wife will like it."

Bradley felt a little more anxious, because he was going to have to admit he was clueless when it came to this topic as well. "Isn't that something her mom should do?"

Nat rolled her eyes. "That's a lot for her mom to handle when she lives on the other side of the country."

He cleared his throat. "Well, what do you even know about baby showers?"

"More than you," she said easily. "Which is why I'll take care of it."

Bradley sighed in relief. "You're not going to give me a hard time about this?"

"Of course not. When have I ever done that sort of thing?"

"Literally since the first time I met you," he muttered as she walked away. But he knew he had nothing to worry about; Nat would make sure you had exactly what you wanted or needed in any scenario.

A minute later, when he got called out to the tarmac, he found his best friend wrapping Bob up in a hug. While he wasn't invited into the conversation, he could hear the dreaded word 'deployment' as he walked past on his way to his jet, leaving him to assume Bob got a notification this morning. Poor Bob, but at least it wasn't him for once.

When he took to the air, Bradley immediately felt a bit calmer. He would figure out how to take care of everything with you by his side. He would make things special for Rosie in his own way. He could share all the things with her that he loved about his mom.

But the thing that calmed Bradley down most of all was arriving in the cafeteria for lunch in time to see you. "Sweetheart!" he called out, cutting in front of Jake and Javy to get to you faster. You had a burrito bowl in one hand and a bunch of little packets of hot sauce in the other, and you still looked cute in your tent uniform. Your face lit up when you saw him, and even though he reeked of jet fuel, you let him give you a hug.

"Do you know where Bob is?" you asked after you kissed him on the cheek. "He and I need to have a conversation."

Bradley ran his hand along your belly, hoping to feel a little thump from the Nugget. "I think he's been notified about a deployment," Bradley muttered.

"I know he has," you replied with strong annoyance in your tone. "Oh, there he is," you said, looking past Bradley. "Excuse me, Roo." You kissed him and added, "I love you, but I need to take care of this. I'll see you at home later when you're going down on me?"

Bradley nearly choked as he muttered, "Okay," while Jake and Javy clearly tried to hide their surprised and amused laughter.

You hurried off in Bob's direction as Javy said, "Nobody better try to call Rooster tonight."

"Silence your cell phone," Jake said, clapping Bradley on the back while he blushed. "Eat your lunch but save room for dinner."

"Fuck," Bradley grumbled, walking away from them as they laughed. Just for that, he'd make sure he was on his A game at home. He'd also have to remind you that your voice tends to carry when you're annoyed.

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

You set your lunch down across from Bob at one of the small tables with only two seats. He smiled as you slid into the chair opposite him, and he greeted you by name. Then he cleared his throat and asked, "You're not sitting with Bradley today?"

You followed his gaze to where your husband��was sitting with Nat and Mickey. "Nope. I wanted to sit with you."

"Okay," he replied, still smiling. "But I'm actually waiting for Maria?"

"She's not coming."

His smile started to fade. "She's not?"

"She's not," you confirmed. "She told me you're getting deployed soon." When he nodded, you asked, "Do you like having a girlfriend?"

His smile was back. "I like having Maria as my girlfriend."

You were shaking your head as you started emptying packet after packet of green hot sauce onto your lunch. "And are you planning on sleeping around while you're gone?"

"No." His voice sounded hoarse, and his face went pale.

"Glad to hear that," you told him as you rammed your fork into your burrito bowl.

"Why would you think I'd want to do that?" he asked, leaning a little closer to you, his brow creased in concern.

"I'm not the one thinking it. You better ask yourself why Maria might think you'd want to do that."

Bob's eyes went wide even as he blushed bright pink. "I don't know... I thought she knew how happy I am. I told her she makes me crazy... I said... I s-said I want to go at it all the time now. I've never been with someone like her." You shoved a bite of food into your mouth and chewed it up while he processed his words. "Wait... does she think I'm like obsessed with getting laid? Because I'm certain I'm just obsessed with her."

You nodded as you swallowed, proud of him for piecing it together so quickly. "Seems that way. You have about a week to put in some legwork if you don't want her to break up with you." In an instant, you were left with Bob's abandoned tray as your only lunch companion, and when he didn't return, you ate his breadsticks and baked pasta.

This was turning out to be the longest day imaginable, and when you finally climbed into your Bronco to head home, you were yawning. Then when you pulled into the driveway, not only was your Bradley not home yet, the other Bradley was still working. You grumbled as you made your way inside, where he was hammering something upstairs; you couldn't even start taking your horrible uniform off in the living room after you opted to wear it home today to get here faster.

When you let Tramp out of the laundry room and sent him to the backyard, you were fighting the urge to take your shirt off and walk through the house topless with every fiber of your being. You made it to your bedroom before tearing it from your body along with your uniform pants. You eyed the bed. You were tired enough to get in and stay there, but you wanted your reward for making it through the day.

"Takeout and head," you whispered, nodding in the mirror with a grin. You turned from side to side, examining your belly and your breasts. Rose was moving a lot today, so much so that you almost noticed it more when she took a break. And your boobs did look pretty nice. You took your bra off and added it to the laundry pile, and that's when your husband walked in.

"I brought pizza, Sweetheart," he said before his lips parted in soft surprise. "You trying to get started without me?" he groaned, reaching for his belt.

You bit your lip, and shook your head. "Do you think we should wait until the other Bradley leaves?" you asked, earning a devilish smirk from your husband.

"Didn't stop us last week when we had sex in the laundry room while he was working. And it didn't stop you from sucking my cock while he was here the week before." You squeaked as he smacked you on the butt and whispered, "You promised me I could have your pussy the second I got home."

"Did I?" you asked, climbing onto the bed, and he was right there with you, hovering over your body as you stretched out. When he nodded, you said, "Then I guess it's all yours, Roo."

But that wasn't even where he stopped first, and you shouldn't have been surprised. His lips met the valley between your very perky breasts while he unzipped his pants. Then you watched him rut gently into the bed as he licked and sucked on you. He had some particular fascination with your chest right now, and he was almost reverent in the way he touched you. 

The sounds of hammering and soft music playing from upstairs were really doing it for you. Getting nasty while you weren't quite alone was always enough to get you going, but on top of that, your husband was so turned on by your weird pregnant body. You felt like a queen as he plucked at one nipple and then the other with his lips, leaving your skin damp to the cool air. Your nipples were furled into tight peaks as he whimpered your name. 

"I can't get enough," he murmured, letting his mustache scrape along your sensitive skin. Your hips bucked from the bed as he let his teeth graze your nipple. "Where do you want my mouth?" he asked, meeting your eyes even as his tongue darted out to trace the undersides of your breasts.

"On my pussy," you gasped.

"I can't hear you."

"On my pussy!" you cried out, and he smiled that wicked smile again.

"Now everyone knows," he growled, leaning on his forearms and treating you to the flex of his biceps as he pushed your thighs apart and settled in.

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

Bradley had one perfect tit in each hand and his face buried in your soaking pussy. Each time he thought you were getting close, he lazily kissed along your dainty rooster tattoo and up to your belly. Once he even paused to say hello to his daughter while you dug your heel into his back and begged him incoherently to put his mouth back on your clit. And he did so with a smile. 

Was he rock hard? Yes. Would he love to cum right now? Absolutely. Was he enjoying every second of the way your body felt and tasted? Definitely. Could he wait until he got you off to let himself unload? For sure.

Your tits were getting bigger and more enticing by the day. And your swollen belly was clearly all his doing. He was grinding his cock into the bed as he slid his hands down to your thighs, spreading you a little wider as he licked all around both of your holes until you were whining his name.

"Fuck," he grunted. Bradley Ross had just turned off his radio. That meant he was getting ready to head out for the day, which also meant the hammering had stopped. You were getting loud as hell as Bradley pressed his nose to your clit and lapped up your wetness. He was only concerned for a split second about your volume before he decided to just carry on. It wasn't like the contractor hadn't seen how hot you were with his own two eyes. Nobody could blame a man for getting at his own wife as much as possible, especially one with massive, pregnant tits and the prettiest face imaginable.

"Roo!" you moaned when he wrapped his lips around your clit. "Let me come, Daddy."

You were tired. He could hear it in your voice. The bedding was a little damp from the mess you and he were making, and his jaw truly was starting to ache. When you released the bedding with your left hand, Bradley could see the sparkle of your engagement ring before you dragged your fingers through his hair. 

Okay, now he needed to get off pretty badly, so he slipped two fingers inside you, and as soon as he did, you came. "Damn," he grunted against your clit before circling you with his flat tongue as you rode his hand and yanked his hair. You were riding him as he pushed on the back of your thigh until he couldn't take it any longer.

He barked out your name as he got to his knees and thrust his cock inside your overstimulated pussy as you were coming down from your orgasm, and that just made you come for him a little more as you shook your head back and forth on the pillow. One more deep thrust, and he came too, with his hands on your tits and sweat dripping down the back of his neck.

When you opened your eyes, you had the most serene look on your face. Bradley kissed the tip of your nose as he pulled his cock free and grunted. "You know, the guys heard your little pussy eating comment at lunch today."

"Oops," you giggled, running your fingers softly over your tits as he stood up and started fixing his clothing. 

"I got roasted for it all afternoon." But he was all smiles, because he really wouldn't have it any other way. "Come out and get some cold pizza when you're ready. I'm going to see how it's coming along upstairs."

You just nodded, and Bradley took one more look at the messy creampie he gave you before vanishing out into the hallway and closing the door behind him. The Craftsman smelled like sawdust and fresh paint, and he was really hoping the project would be completed in the next few days so your parents could sleep up there during their stay. Otherwise he might have to gag you during sexual activities, and he was only half joking in his mind.

Bradley Ross was carrying a paint can and some rollers down the stairs, heading right for the front door. "Have a good night," he called out, barely pausing to get through the door. Perhaps he'd heard your beautiful chorus of moaning. Didn't matter, but Bradley had hoped to ask him how much longer he thought the project would be. Instead he climbed the stairs to investigate for himself.

It looked incredible, and it seemed like a lot had been accomplished today. Two bedrooms of identical size were both primed and ready for paint. The hardwood flooring looked perfect, and the new windows were letting so much natural light in. The bathroom wasn't large, but it did have a tub and a single sink vanity, and the tiles you picked out looked pretty.

He shut all the lights off and headed back down to the kitchen where you were wearing a pair of his underwear with a maternity tank top, dunking a slice of pizza in some hot sauce. "How's it looking?" you asked. He knew you were talking about the attic, but he couldn't help himself as he grabbed a slice from the box.

"It's looking sexy and pregnant and like it just had an orgasm." You burst into laughter as he added, "The project upstairs looks good, too."

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

Later that week, you got a vague text from Bradley letting you know that he'd be late getting home from work. You were expecting maybe he'd be home around six or seven, just in time to help you wrap the presents you ordered for your parents, but he didn't get home until almost eight, long after Bradley Ross left for the day. 

He was quiet and looked contemplative when he walked in. "Hi," you called out from where you were sitting on the couch, and he finally met your gaze. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He made his way over to you. "Mav just wanted to chat. Is there any pizza left?"

He kissed you before heading to the kitchen, and you stared after him. "Of course there's no pizza left. I'm pregnant. And are you being weird on purpose? Why are you three hours late getting home?"

You watched as he started to pour a bowl of cereal in silence, and you weren't sure if he was even listening to you. When you made your way into the kitchen, he finally said, "There's a potential job opportunity. Remember when I filled in for a few days here and there as an instructor?" When you nodded he took a bite of cereal before continuing. "Mav seems to think I could do more of that type of shit."

Your eyes went wide at the prospect of fewer deployments for him. "That might be a good opportunity," you told him, still unsure exactly where he stood on the topic.

He just shrugged and said, "It's certainly something to think about, Sweetheart. Wouldn't really be happening until a few months from now, but I'm going to keep the conversation going with Mav."

It was then that you realized he looked exhausted. "Want to take a shower with me? I could wash your hair."

Your husband moaned softly and set his empty bowl in the sink. "Hell yes. Absolutely."

Within three minutes, you had your hands coated in shampoo, and you were working them through his thick hair while he felt around your belly, hoping to feel the baby kick. "I feel like I barely got to spend any time with her this week," he whispered with a pout. "Where's my Nugget?"

You felt her give a little thump, as if she knew he was right there waiting for her. You quickly placed his hand a little higher, and he sighed in contentment. "Hey, Rose. Daddy's tired. Can we all snuggle in bed soon?" She seemed to squirm in response. "Your grandparents are coming to visit tomorrow."

"And the attic conversion should be done tomorrow, too," you told him. "That's what the other Bradley said when he was leaving today."

"Amazing. Merry Christmas to us."

You practically tucked him into bed as soon as he was dried off, but he kept reaching for you to join him. "I need to let Tramp out. I'll be right back." You walked through the kitchen and past the refrigerator which was covered in ultrasound photos. Then you straightened up a little bit while Tramp ran around the yard. By the time you got back to the bedroom, Bradley had fallen asleep with the Nugget Notebook open on his chest and a pen in his hand. You took a peek to see what he had written.

Hey, Rosie. It's almost Christmas. I'm not really good at celebrating holidays, but your mom is. Her parents are, too. I'm hoping I'll kind of figure this whole thing out once you get here. I'm thinking you'll make everything more fresh and fun for your old man. We can get better at things together.

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

You were more than ready for a few days off. When you left work on December twenty-first, you reminded Cat that you planned on dropping off some gifts for Jeremiah over the weekend. When you got to the parking garage, you saw Maria and Bob making out next to his truck. He had her hands pinned above her head, and she was all smiles. You felt immediately better.

You knew the plan for the evening, and so did Bradley. Your parents were landing in San Diego at 6:15, and you assured them that you'd be there to pick them up. When you got home from work, Bradley Ross was finishing some details upstairs, and you were delighted by what you saw when you went to have a look.

"It's perfect," you gushed, looking around the space. The one bedroom was almost ready for your mom and dad. Someone would just need to make the bed later. The bathroom was shiny and bright and lovely, ready to be used. The second bedroom still had some wet paint, but you planned on just closing that door for a few days. "Let me write you a check for the balance," you told your contractor when he was about ready to leave. "I'll meet you in the kitchen."

After you wrote out the check, you waited for both Bradleys while you dipped some grapes in hot sauce. It was almost time to leave for the airport, and you still needed to change out of your uniform tent. You undid the top few buttons and played with your necklace charms, and as soon as Bradley Ross walked downstairs with the rest of his supplies, you rushed his way.

"Here's what we owe you. Thanks again for squeezing us into your schedule so close to the holidays."

"I hope you are happy with the outcome for many years to come," he told you with a smile.

"It looks so good, I'll definitely refer my friends to you for any projects in the future."

"Thank you, Mrs. Bradshaw."

You didn't bother correcting him when he didn't use your hyphenated last name, because as soon as he walked outside, you had your shirt off and you were rushing toward your bedroom. But as soon as you passed your mirror on your bra on the way to the closet, you paused and smiled. Your husband would love a little treat in his text messages; it had been ages since you sent him something dirty.

You snapped a photo of your boobs as they were hugged by the black lace. Then you took your bra off, covering your nipples with your hand and forearm before snapping another. Then you removed your arm and took one last picture of your breasts complete with tightly furled nipples. You expected that your husband would run into the house begging for a quickie before heading to the airport. The thought of his flushed cheeks and raspy voice made you giggle as you attached the photos and texted them away.

His hyperfixation was so fun for you right now, and you started to wonder if he was going to be as excited by your boobs after the baby was born. Would he be interested in the breastfeeding process?

"Hey, Baby Girl."

You turned toward the doorway as you straightened your sports bra and pulled an oversized shirt on. "Hi," you said, trying to play coy, but just grinning wildly instead.

"You ready to go get your mom and dad?"

"Yeah... almost. You looked down at his gym shorts where you could see the outline of his phone in his pocket. You pouted a bit when you had to ask, "Did you like the photos I texted to you?"

His brow furrowed as he patted his pocket. "What photos?"

You sighed. "The ones I sent like five minutes ago."

You watched as he unlocked his phone and started to shake his head. "I don't have any messages from you since lunchtime. What was it?"

"Thee pictures of my massive tits," you told him as you reached for his phone. But when you checked, they definitely weren't there. "Maybe I didn't tap send?" you murmured picking your phone up from the bed.

Bradley's arms wrapped around you from behind, and you could hear the smile in his voice when he whispered, "Can't wait to see them for myself." But you froze and tried to shake him off as your stomach lurched.

"Oh no. No no no no no!"

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?"

You handed him your phone and covered your eyes as you started to panic. Apparently you hadn't tapped on Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3 in your contacts. After you started typing his name, you must have accidentally selected Bradley Ross as the recipient. "Bradley! I sent them to the other Bradley!"

His eyes bugged out as he saw the photos in the message for himself. "You sent our contractor pictures of your tits!"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" you shrieked. "They were for you! What are we supposed to do now?!"

He pocketed both phones, heaved a deep, exhausted sigh and muttered, "I'm going to have nothing but fucking gray hair after this, I swear to god." Then he rushed from the room and you followed him long enough to watch him grab his keys and run out to his Bronco.

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

Checking in with Maria and Bob was dramatic. Like damn. At least BG got to eat his lunch. And now we have the great Bradley mix-up to contend with. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 8

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[mothhball]

five-finger discount

Pairing | Neil Lewis x Reader

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, DUB-CON, fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blackmail, sex on camera, brief edging, creampie, cheating, cursing, Moth pretends to know anything about movies

Summary | You’ve been trying to make easy money, but you’re not as subtle as you thought. Some lessons need to be learned the hard way.

Words | 4.4k

Notes | FINALLY DONE. and vaguely inspired by 70s porn haha

MINORS DNI

INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – THRILLER AISLE – DAY

“No, it's not. That's not what she said. Someone is in trouble. Something bad is happening!” squawks a woman from the running TV in the background while your fingers trace over the backs of the VHS as you walk past the shelves.

1 PM on a Wednesday certainly is no rush hour at Gumshoe Video. Even the most annoying film bros don't come here at this time of day to flaunt their knowledge of the craft and subsequent absence of social skills. You're in the clear, pretending to deeply think about your choice in entertainment for the end of the day, even though that couldn't be further from the truth. Throwing a glance over your shoulder, you spot the business owner, entranced by the film that he put on to pass the time, and you can see his plush lips silently mouthing along to the dialog. Cute. And easy to trick.

It's not your first time here. No, you made sure to become familiar with the place over the course of months now, learning where each genre and title has been sorted into its rightful place.

Certain old VHS-tapes can sell for a small fortune online, and for every tape you rent, you take one for free with the plan of selling it to the highest bidder. Currently, you have a stack at home, waiting for you to finally stop procrastinating and open up that damn eBay account.

Your pinky catches on a specific tape. 'A History of Violence', currently estimated to lure an additional 199 bucks into your greedy bank account. Quietly, you pull out the film, leaving a gaping hole in the neatly sorted row as you slip it into your purse.

With nimble hands, you try to rearrange the tapes to make the missing VHS a little less obvious, but in your haste, a few of them escape your clammy grasp and clutter to the ground. A head of silky brunette hair whips around, and you're met with pretty blue eyes as the store owner turns to face you.

You let out a giggle, trying to sound as vapid and innocuous as possible. You’re in character now. The persona you chose? An unassuming, ditzy little thing that’s hot enough to distract him, but stupid enough as to not get suspected of any wrong-doings. You’d say you’re a good actress. A fantastic one, even.

"Sorry," you purr, batting your eyelashes at him. "I'm a little clumsy today." You're already bending over to pick up the tapes when he makes his way over to lend a helping hand, and you make sure to show off your cleavage in an intentionally accidental way. You know he’s into you. You’ve been seeing the heat in his gaze for weeks now, along with the occasional crack in his voice and an almost endearing desire to impress you. It’s his biggest weakness and the reason your plan has been working flawlessly until now.

"Hey, hey, no worries. Uh, gravity wins sometimes. Don't sweat it," he grins at you, brushing his fingers against yours as the two of you work together to put everything back into place.

"What exactly were you looking for anyway?" he suddenly asks, breaking your focus for a second.

"Uh, Moonstruck," you mutter, completely on autopilot. The store owner nods, pursing his lips as he mulls over your answer. You’re aware of your blunder before he even answers.

"Moonstruck? Then you're in the wrong section. You know, with how often you come here, I thought you got the hang of our layout by now." Fuck, he’s got you. Play dumb. Play dumb!

Your poker face almost cracks, but you keep your composure. Or at least you try to. "Huh? Oh - I... right. God, I'm just all over the place today." You giggle again, relieved by the way his grin seems to soften. Hook, line and sinker. He may think he’s detective Sam Spade from ‘The Maltese Falcon’, but you’re Brigid O’Shaughnessy. Or he’s Batman and you’re Catwoman. Or – well, it doesn’t matter. Baseline is, you’re snatching tapes right from underneath his nose while he’s too busy fantasizing about what’s underneath your clothes.

The store owner speaks up again, lazily rubbing the back of his neck as he leans against the shelf, and his free hand wanders and gestures around a bit as if he’s trying to figure out which pose would look the coolest and most effortless.

“Right. Actually, that wasn’t really fair of me.” You tilt your head at him, eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly which prompts him to elaborate. “Some of our tapes went missing. Y’know, some of the oldies and goldies? That’s why I didn’t stock Moonstruck this week.”

Your lips part in surprise, but all you can reply with is a soft ‘oh’. The store owner shrugs, leaning in towards you. There’s something conspiratory about his expression which makes your stomach churn a little. “Yeah. But I do still have it. It’s just in my office.”

There’s a beat of silence as you mull over the unspoken offer. Your plan is built on the one tape you always rent for cheap. No one would think you’re stealing if you’re actually paying for something, right? Despite this, you wonder if you should call it a day and head home with the stolen film hidden in your purse. Alibi be damned.

“I… That’s great. Uh, actually, I was just about to –“ he cuts you off with a casual wave of his hand, and the grin on his face widens once more.

“Don’t worry. I’ll even give you a discount. Just follow me.”

INT. GUMSHOE VIDEO – NEIL LEWIS’ PRIVATE OFFICE – DAY

The private office of Neil Lewis, cinephile and pop culture enthusiast, is decorated with a distinct Film Noir charm, lovingly empathized by leather chairs and a checkered floor. Not to mention the letters on the door. He calls himself a private investigator. A joking title that makes you palms sweat ever so slightly. You notice that he set up a small camera on his desk, but he brushes it off as a regular procedure.

"So... Moonstruck,” he starts, gesturing for you to take a seat. Which you do. “Great pick. Just curious - Why did you go for that one?" The question makes you pause for a second.

"The... the cover spoke to me,” you casually lie, trying to sound somewhat cute, but it doesn’t land. Neil’s expression quickly betrays his skepticism, and his lips part while his narrowed gaze wanders around the room for a minute. "Hm. And what about the other one?"

"What do you mean?" Play dumb, play dumb, play – but he’s not letting you off the hook so easily.

"The other tape."

Silence fills the office, and you swear the VHS in your purse is starting to burn a hole right where it’s settled in your lap.

"Which... other tape? I just picked out this one."

"Ohhh, right. Sorry. My bad. Just… Moonstruck." The way he’s saying this makes it seem like he enjoys the taste of the letters on his tongue. You nod, a little too eager to get this conversation over and done with.

"So you won’t mind me looking through your purse?" Neil leans forward in his seat, folding his hands on top of his desk. Your eyes briefly fall onto the little desk name plate that’s undoubtedly just made out of shiny, golden plastic. But it does the job. It intimidates you. At least to a certain degree.

“No,” you lie through your teeth, trying to shrug off the tension. “I… it’s certainly no problem, Mr. Lewis. None at all.”

Neil lets out an apathetic sigh as he rises from his seat, causing the leather to squeak. His steps seem a little too confident for a video rental owner as he moves around the desk to first walk over to the door and lock it. “Neil is fine. I’m not a big fan of… formalities,” he starts, coming up behind you to set his hands on your shoulders. His hands are gentle but firm, causing your body to warm right down to the deepest layers. To make his control over the situation even more apparent, he splays his hands, tracing your collarbone with his middle finger. It’s subtle enough that he could pass it off as a figment of your imagination if you should choose to speak up. But you don’t. You stay quiet, even as he leans down and you can hear the murmur of his voice right next to your ear.

“Open your purse.”

You bite your tongue, slowly opening your purse to find Cher’s face grinning back at you. It’s Moonstruck. In all of its romantic glory, and it makes both you and Neil freeze for a moment. You lick your dry lips, saying the first thing that comes to mind.

"That's mine."

"Yours?" You wouldn’t know, but his eyebrow twitches upward at your ridiculous claim.

"Yeah. A... personal copy." Great, now you’re doubling down.

"With my name on it?" Silence, yet again. You could basically hear the dramatic music that the producers of any reality TV shows use in the background of any tense scene. But this isn’t scripted. No, all of this is improvised.

"... what are the odds?" you croak, feeling how your throat goes dry in real time. Neil scoffs in reply, shaking his head, and his grip on your shoulders tightens a tad before he lets go entirely. His expression is stern as he steps in front of you, leaning against the desk and crossing his shapely arms over his chest. For a moment, he’s silent, letting his eyes wander all over your form in a slow, appreciative way that makes your palms get sweaty. “You do know I have to call the police, don’t you?”

“What?” Your breath hitches in your lungs, and you blink a few times, almost in an attempt to shake yourself out of this very strange dream. “This… this is just one tape. Isn’t this kind of excessive?”

“Yeah, maybe it’s one tape today. But you’ve been coming here for weeks.” Your jaw drops, but you can’t seem to come up with an appropriate response. You’ve been had. For the past months, you were convinced that he only saw you as a little piece of eye candy wandering through the store, but he’s been seeing right through you all along. Now you definitely don’t feel like Catwoman anymore. When he notices that you’re not going to say anything, Neil continues.

“Did you really think we don’t have security cameras all over the place? Well, I’ve been watching you the entire time, playing along when you pretended to be all ditzy and cute. It’s not just one instance. It’s a whole case, baby. And you’ll go to jail.” That makes you break out of your stupor, and you can feel your pulse speeding up.

“No- wait, no, no, no. Please, can’t we just talk about this for one second?”

“I don’t bargain with thieves.” He’s smug. Too smug for your liking, considering that he’s threatening you with the loss of your precious, precious freedom.

“Please, I’ll do anything,” you plead, fixing him with the biggest puppy dog eyes you can muster in an attempt to appeal to the soft, awkward side of him. And he cracks. At least the tiniest bit.

“Maybe… maybe we can work something out. But I’ll need to search you first. Who knows what else you’re hiding.” He gestures for you to stand, and you get up from your seat, causing the leather cushioning to faintly squeak once again. “Spread your arms. To the side.”

Your expression settles into a pout, but you do as you’re told, much to Neil’s satisfaction. He returns to his previous position behind you and starts by touching your shoulders, slowly trailing his hands down your arms. His fingers leave tingles behind on your skin, and you’re even more aware of how close he’s gotten when you feel his breath on the back of your neck. His cheeky hands continue to wander, making their way down your sides, softly squeezing around your waist before he moves on to your hips. You try to think about it as a TSA search, but it’s a little hard to do when his hands linger for much longer than necessary on your thighs and your calves as he crouches down. Once he’s satisfied, he straightens back up, and you almost think he’s done before he leans in to rasp into your ear.

“You’re gonna have to take your clothes off… so I can search you more thoroughly.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you’re about to protest, but he’s already pulling your top off, tossing it aside before he moves on to your shorts. A sigh escapes him as he pulls them down along with your panties, and he doesn’t give you even a second to recover before he’s gripping and caressing the curves of your body. Leaning his chin on your shoulder, he runs his fingers over your hips, feeling how your skin warms beneath his touch. “Take your bra off.”

“What? There’s no way I could be hiding a tape in there –“ In response, Neil lightly pinches your thigh, causing you to jump a little and let out a soft whine. Seems like there’s no way around it. With shaky hands, you reach behind yourself to unclasp your bra, and Neil leans back ever so slightly to give you the space to move. That is, until your tits are exposed, and his body is glued against yours once more. The feeling of his hardening cock pressing up against your ass sends heat into your core, and you instinctively clench your thighs together. Of course, this catches his attention.

“Ah, so you are hiding something.”

He wraps his arms around you, steering the two of you over to the mirror he hung on the wall next to his ridiculous little costume rack. You watch your own flushed expression as his hand slips between your legs to let his fingers trace over your already wet folds. With a groan, you try to avert your eyes before he corrects you with a rough grope of your breast.

“No. Eyes on yourself. I want you to see the guilt on your face while I search you.”

Reluctantly, your eyes return to the mirror, just in time for him to plunge a finger into your velvety pussy. Your lips part, and as much as you’d like to keep quiet, your resolve crumbles immediately when he finds that sweet spot inside of you. Within minutes, the office fills up with the sounds of your pleasure and the obscene squelching of his fingers in your wet cunt. And he’s thorough in his search, quickly working you up from one finger to three, making your toes curl against the checkered floor. For a moment, he drives you up to that delightful edge, only to pull his fingers out of you at the last second.

You don’t have the capacity to complain when he lifts his hand towards the light, showing off his glistening digits. Both of you are entranced by the sight, and Neil lets out a soft wheeze before he licks his fingers clean.

“Yeah, I made up my mind. Get over to the desk and bend over.”

“I have a boyfriend,” you whine, turning your head to give him your biggest puppy dog eyes.

“Well, you should’ve thought about it before you stole from me. Losing those rare tapes was a financial disaster for me. I’m risking this store. And I’m not gonna do it without something in return.” He finishes his sentence with a light smack to your ass which only manages to get you even more riled up. It’s hard to disagree with him when he knows just how to get you going.

Neil drags you back over to the desk, angling the camera in just the right way before he hurriedly tears his clothes off completely. The sight of his urgency makes your chest fill with butterflies, but you still need to protest. You have to!

“I don’t usually do this… what if my boyfriend finds out?”

“That’s one more reason to behave. You wouldn’t want him to see this little clip, right?” he asks, although the question is entirely rhetorical. You’d love to feel guilty, but you can’t bring yourself to it.

 His hands run from your shoulders down to your hips, kneading your flesh with the attentiveness of a potter crafting a masterpiece, and he leans over you to place open-mouthed kisses down your spine. You shiver, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle the noises that are threatening to escape your mouth. With a quick movement, Neil reaches under your knee to guide your leg on top of the desk, and you let out a soft sigh when you can feel your arousal rolling down the inside of your thigh as he spreads you open with two fingers.

“You know… nice girls wouldn’t get this wet in situations like these. Then again, you’re a filthy thief, so you’re the furthest thing from a good girl.”

Neil wraps one arm around your waist, pulling you back against his chest so he can latch back onto the side of your neck, sucking and biting while he uses his other hand to guide the tip of his cock against your drooling entrance. His naked skin against yours fills your head with need, and you press up against him a little more to feel him more closely as he slowly pushes inside your velvety cunt. Both of you let out a hiss, and Neil follows it up with a needy whimper as he stills for a moment.

“Fuck… oh fuck,” he breathes, causing your lips to twitch up in subtle amusement. Neil’s hand shakes as he adjusts the camera, making sure to get everything in frame, and in this moment, you clench around him on purpose, causing him to moan right into your ear. “Jesus Christ, don’t do that –”

The slap to your ass is meant to punish you, but it’s doing the exact opposite, and you let him know this by moaning his name. His lips return to your pulse as he pushes his cock deeper into you, stretching you so perfectly that it sends goosebumps over your skin. Or maybe it’s because of his warm breath on your ear. Or his hands diligently kneading your tits. The cocktail of heated touches and sensations is literally making you feel drunk.

“Your cock feels so good,” you whine, causing him to suck in a sharp breath at the praise.

“Yeah?” he chuckles, bottoming out inside of you before he starts to set a slow, sensual rhythm. “You’re such a depraved little slut… getting off on your punishment. If only your boyfriend knew.”

Neil rolls his hips against yours, drawing a moan from both of you that would fit perfectly on the set of a porno. Maybe you’re hamming it up a little to feed his ego. But that isn’t very hard to do when he fills you up so deliciously, making you wetter with every thrust.

You’re already starting to feel breathless when he slowly speeds up, drilling into your dripping pussy with even more fervor. Words are starting to become a little difficult, but you try your best anyway. “You’re better than him. SO much better –“

Your reward is a second smack – aimed at your chest this time.

“You’re damn right I am,” he groans, sucking another hickey into your skin and adding to the little necklace of bruises he’s been placing around your neck. “Suck these for me, will you?”

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, but it doesn’t last long when he brings his fingers up to your mouth, and you eagerly latch onto his digits, still faintly tasting yourself from earlier. You suck them down to the knuckle, running your tongue in between them in a way that makes him groan and pound your cunt even harder. Once his fingers are sufficiently coated in your saliva, he pulls them free from your lips and reaches between your legs to rub your clit.

The one leg you’ve been standing on threatens to give out immediately, but he holds you up with his other arm, and gently guides your hands into place to better support yourself on the desk. Neil nuzzles his face into your hair, breathing heavily against the shell of your ear.

“If you promise not to steal ever again, I might let you cum on my cock.”

His words are intercepted by quiet grunts and whimpers, and you find yourself agreeing pretty quickly, blabbering out promise after promise.

“I’ll never – never steal again! I swear, I swear, I swear, please! Please, please let me cum –!”

You’re almost not recognizing your own voice due to the desperately needy tone that’s laced through your pleading, but Neil doesn’t mind. Quite the opposite, really, because you can feel his thrusts picking up in intensity. He rewards your obedience by rubbing your clit a little faster, and you have to bite your knuckle as to not cry out his name. Fuck, it’s only noon and you’re approaching your release at breakneck speed.

“Fuck… I – I’m close,” you breathe, turning your head to look at him from over your shoulder. His teeth are back in your neck as he kisses and bites at your skin, and his voice sounds strained as he answers you.

“Go ahead… let go for me. If only your boyfriend knew, hm?”

That’s it. Your orgasm rips through you, and you let out a whine as you claw at the surface beneath you. Neil is generous enough to let you ride out your climax, but you can tell how impatient he is when he suddenly pulls out, swallowing heavily.

 “On your back.” He doesn’t have to tell you twice. It’s a little awkward, but you manage to scramble and reposition yourself, lying back against the desk and looking up at him with flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Neil is in the same state, licking his lips and swallowing dryly as he guides his cock back into your cunt, aided by his thumb on the base of his length.

“Fuck… how can you still be this tight? Shit, FUCK…” He’s cursing and muttering under his breath, having half a brain to readjust the still rolling camera as to not miss a single second. His hands guide your legs around his waist, and he leans over you, staring at you through blown out pupils that clash against the vibrant intensity of his ocean gaze. His pretty face is red, and sweat beads on his forehead, causing his hair to stick to his skin. Without thinking, you reach up to push it back, causing both of you to still for a second before Neil finds his tone again.

“M’gonna fill you up… and send you back home to your boyfriend with a creampie in that pretty cunt. Alright? Alright.”

You can only nod in response, hearing your own racing heartbeat in your ears along with his continued grunts and moans. His hands on you are gentle, but his thrusts definitely aren’t as he pounds you against the desk. Neil’s hips smack against yours, causing every novelty item around the two of you to tremble along to your feverish rhythm. You tilt your head back but he goes after you, finally capturing your lips in a hungry kiss that he’s been trying to hold back from the entire time. But now that he’s rapidly approaching his own climax, the self-restraint is completely out of the window.

Your tongues clash, and you moan into his mouth when his hands find yours, linking your fingers together. Neil’s lips faintly taste of iced coffee as he licks against your tongue, and your grip on his hands tightens when his movements start to become erratic.

Your lips stay locked the entire time, even as he lets out a guttural groan when he finishes inside of you, thrusting into you a few more times to push it in as deep as possible. Finally, he stills and pulls away from you, unable to resist stealing one last peck from your swollen lips. You’re still breathing heavily as his hands roam over your body once more, relishing the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips. Now that he has material on you and you promised not to steal again, he’s gentle. Almost too gentle, and you have to clear your throat to snap him out of it.

Neil catches himself, blinking down at you with soft eyes while he wipes some sweat off his brow. There’s a subtle twitch in his lips that tells you that he’d love to keep touching you, but he’s aware of the setting you’re in. Almost reluctantly, he pulls out of you to let you retrieve your clothes. While you’re getting dressed, he checks the camera and stops the recording before he speaks up.

“You’re free to go, then. You know what happens if I catch you stealing again, right?”

The question prompts you to nod in response, and you mumble out a “yes” as you pull your top back over your head. Once Neil confiscates the VHS from your purse, you’re free to exit the store on trembling legs, cringing a little at the feeling of your combined fluids leaking into your underwear. But God, this heist was worth it.

INT. YOUR PLACE – LIVING ROOM – DAY

As expected, the house is quiet when you get home, and you let out a deep, satisfied sigh as you throw yourself onto the couch to decompress for a moment.

Not even 20 minutes pass until the front door opens, and you hear familiar footsteps. A lazy smile spreads over your face, and you sit up, watching you boyfriend as he kicks off his shoes and throws his jacket over the coat rack on the wall. He makes his way over, leaning down to press a sweet kiss to your lips, and your vision is filled by ocean eyes and faint freckles. Neil chuckles softly, placing the camera onto the coffee table before he sinks down on the couch next to you and pulls you close. “I’m glad Lucien agreed to take over the rest of the day.” You hum in agreement, closing your eyes when he brushes his fingers through your hair to massage your scalp.

“I think that was our best one yet.”

FIN.

tags: @ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24 @detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls (couldn't tag) @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411 @ashdrinksoatmilk @luvizuku @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines