#and i feel like he'd tap into that side of him if/

[cherrygirlfriend]

passenger princess pairing: sunshine!reader x grumpy!rafe synopsis: no one touches your side of the car warnings: fluff! wc: 700 this was such a cute little idea, i loved it!!! this is for the baddies that refuse to get a license ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .𖥔˚ thank you for requesting!

whenever you'd come up with some new, ridiculous way to 'tune up' what you had deemed your side of his car, rafe would act like it was such a bother; like he really didn't get why you felt the need to be doing all that.

rafe's side of the car was, well, normal. sure, he had a few documents he kept in the driver's seat sun visor, but everything else was sleek, normal, but your side was like a kindergartner's dream come true. it got so ridiculous that you had a fluffy blanket you'd stuffed into the glove compartment, conveniently ignoring the gun he kept there. sure, that came in use for car quickies, but most of the time it was just there for when you felt like... napping.

the dashboard had a bunch of stickers as well as some of those weird furry toys (calico crits or some shit) along with those weird little babies with fruits on their heads; you'd put blu-tack on their feet to make sure they stayed in their rightful places. even the cup holder was taken over by a little plushie, and he'd basically had to argue for you to not get a pink cover for the steering wheel; that ended up with you giving him the silent treatment for a week until he showed up behind your door with more ridiculous trinkets for your side of the car.

secretly, he liked the fact that there was your side of the car, that even when you weren't there, he could still see traces of you everywhere.

rafe let out a small sigh, tapping his long digits against the steering wheel, glancing down at his watch the longer it took barry to get there; finally, he saw the man getting out of his trailer, letting out a low "fucking finally..." while barry opened the door to rafe's car, his eyes immediately landing on the crap on your side of the car. "don't ask."

"wasn't gonna." barry huffed in amusement, getting into the decorated side of the car, and rafe wished he wasn't in such a hurry, the sight being so ridiculous. "you're whipped, huh?"

"what are you talking about?" rafe scoffed, the car lurching forward as he started it, barry adjusting the cute seat cover you'd recently bought, letting out a small tut. "i wouldn't do that." but before rafe could stop barry from further meddling with your settings, he'd already started adjusting the seat, making him groan internally.

"are you gonna get shit for it?"

"obviously." rafe scoffed, "and you will too. it took her, like, a month to adjust it to be comfortable. so stop touching her shit."

still, barry continued looking at the little trinkets you kept on your side of the car, taking one of those weird fruit babies and toying with it, letting out a small snort, but when they pulled up in front of an unfamiliar house instead of the house party rafe had told him they'd be going, barry looked at the blonde with furrowed brows, who simply scratched the back of his neck.

"don't tell-"

before he could finish his sentence, barry was startled by the sound of a knock on the passenger seat window, and when he turned around, you were standing there, mouthing something.

"she's saying you're in her seat." rafe muttered under his breath, barry laughing at this; it was getting more and more ridiculous by the minute.

"whipped. w-h-i-p-p-e-d." barry slapped rafe's shoulder, making the blonde roll his eyes as barry got out of the passenger's seat.

"hi." you said with an excited smile as you climbed onto your side of the car, pressing a soft kiss on rafe's stubbled cheek, all the while barry climbed into the backseat, feeling like he was a damn kid getting a ride to school from his parents.

however, as you tried to settle onto your usual seat, you looked between the two men with narrowed eyes, your glossed lips pursing into a pout, rafe feeling like he might burn under your gaze.

"did he mess with my seat?"

"i told him not to!"

"barry!" you exclaimed, your keen eyes landing on the dashboard, noticing that something was missing; you turned around to face him, a sheepish grin on barry's face.

"barry, give me the angel back!"

[heesdove]

easy, ma – l.hs

꒰ 🍒 ꒱ ℒee ℋeeseung [희승] : 𝒟rabble!

𝓰enre. smut, fluffy fluffy fluff. .˚⊹ 𝓹airing. non-idol,,best friend heeseung x fem reader. ໒꒱ 𝔀arning(s). smut, pwp, consensual sex, petname use, praise, dirty talk, nipple play, soft dom!hee, sub!reader, piv, size training?, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap!). 𝔀ord 𝓬t. tba

𝓼ynopsis .ᐟ size training with your best friend during a sleepover. <3

꒰ 💬 ꒱ 𝓶i 𝓷ote. this is my very first time writing smut, please understand that i may be incorrect in descriptions– feel free to correct me and offer your feedback!

if you enjoyed this fic, please like and reblog! it's always appreciated :)

enjoy, my lovely readers. xoxo, mi. ‹𝟹

as usual, the morning began with breakfast at your favorite café in town– headed to campus afterward for your only lecture of the day. once you'd completed class, you'd returned home to relax until your best friend texted you, granting permission for you to come over.

from there, it remained ordinary as you gathered your sleepover bag and keys, shortly arriving at heeseung's within the hour.

he'd greeted you at the front door, smile on his lips and pearly whites on display. "hey, babydoll." his voice was raspy, as though he'd awoken from a nap.

"you okay? you sound tired, hee." you commented in concern, your voice so incredibly soft and sweet to him.

with a clear of his throat, he brushed it off by muttering, "just a long day." to which led you to step inside, your shoes abandoned in the entryway.

of course, you'd made yourself at home in his small flat– hints of you sprawled across the boy's space considering how often you'd see one another. you made way into his bedroom, plopping your tote bag onto his messy, clothes-ridden floor.

however, the air seemed unusual, tense even, as heeseung entered the room behind you.

pivoting, you face the boy with a skeptical furrow of your brows, eyeing him up and down– to which he awkwardly remains still, nervously shifting from side to side.

"why're you so quiet, seung?" you question with slight worry, yet mostly confusion due to his atypical silent behavior.

"babydoll." he tries to interrupt, taking a step forward as you continue to interrogate him.

"are you sure everything's okay? do you need some alone time?–" you continued to blabber, to which the boy paused right in front of you, hands settling upon your waist.

"y/n." his low voice finally reaches your ears, causing you to glance up and meet his eyes.

"i'm okay, really. it's just.. not something we freely talk about." he eases your concern, only to pique your curiosity further.

"but 's bothering you?" you ask yet another question, causing him to let out a soft laugh– earning a hesitant, half nod from him.

"well... i suppose you could say that, doll." heeseung responds, his lips curved in a soft smile at your attentiveness to him. one of his hands reach to brush a strand of hair from your face.

"then let's talk about it." you blurt, unaware of the topic on the boy's mind at that very moment.

"oh, you want to?" he questions, eyes darkening as he bites the corner of his lip.

"if it helps, mm-hm!" you confirm in a quick hum, nodding your head in gesture.

"alright, let's talk about it." he agrees, his lips curving up into a mischevious smile.

"see that, sweetheart?" heeseung questions ever so softly, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear as he stands behind you. one of his arms encircled around your waist, the other extended from beneath your arm, phone in hand– your instagram story from hours ago on display.

"oh! my instagram story? mm-hm." you recognize the photo of you in a pair of petite sleep shorts and the zip-up hoodie you'd borrowed from him. "is it 'bout your hoodie? can give it back, hee." you try to make reason of why he'd be upset, misunderstanding completely.

" 'course not, baby. want you to keep it, actually." the boy responds with a low murmur, his lips lingering dangerously close to your neck.

"wait, then what's botherin' you?" your obliviousness would typically annoy the boy, but in this matter, he'd hoped for you to piece things together yourself.

he stepped even closer, his figure practically molded to yours.

and that's when you realize the issue at hand.

it leaves you speechless, how erected his cock is, from viewing just a mere photo of you.

"y/n, please. i understand if you don't want to do anything intimate with me, but i need to relieve myself because it's so painful." he admits with a soft grunt spilling past his lips, his hips rutting forward and pressing his erection against the plushness of your ass.

"no!" you protest, shifting in his hold to face him. "i– i mean no, as in don't do it by yourself." you add quickly, hoping to avoid any further misunderstanding.

"i'm sorry?" he mutters in confusion, his brows furrowing in surprise at your response.

"wanna help, hee. can make the pain go away." you reassure, reaching forward to palm him through the layers of his sweatpants and boxers.

earning another grunt from the boy, he breathlessly agrees with a small "fuck," and nod of his head.

and that's what led to you straddled upon heeseung's lap on his gaming chair, naked and bare for his gaze– a sight he'd never forget, forever engraved in his mind.

not even sank onto his mushroom tip, you stare up at him nervously. one of his hands rests beneath the plush of your ass, the other extended toward your right breast, pinching and twisting your nipple between his forefinger and thumb.

earning a whimper from your lips, the boy smiles at the sight of you visibly melting into his touch. "c'mon, baby. start with the tip, i know you can do it." he encourages in a gentle tone, continuing to pleasure you by fondling your chest.

" 'm scared, seung." you admit, exhaling as you decide to begin sinking down onto his cock, the stretch being uncomfortable– but bearable due to the fact it was only the tip.

"doing so good for me, angel." he hisses at the sensitivity, the bulb of his cock throbbing as your warm cavern enveloped him. "gonna have this pussy trained for me in no time." he adds, fighting the urge to buck his hips and rut into you successfully.

"mmph, hee." you babble in discomfort, remaining still for a moment before sinking down even further, half of his cock being swallowed up by your gunmy walls.

heeseung was evidently enjoying the experience, despite the delicious anticipation of filling you to the brim– his head thrown back as he groans, both hands now grasping your hips.

"easy, ma." he regains his bearings, returning his gaze to you as he tries to help you ease onto his thick cock.

gasping for breath, you decide to simply go for it– sinking all the way onto his size, hands grasping at his shoulders, biceps; anything to ground yourself through the pleaseurable pain.

it wasn't as though you'd never been dicked down before, just that you'd never encountered someone of heeseung's inches and girth.

"mm, you're so tight." heeseung comments, humming in satisfaction of finally being fully sucked inside of you. his hips buck, fucking his tip further past your gumminess.

"oh, fuck!" you release a high-pitched whimper, your lips parting in an 'o'.

"i know, ma. told you that you could take all that cock." he coos, fingers gripping the skin of your hips so hard that the flesh protrudes between his fingers.

it wasn't long before you'd begun to bounce against his lap, the squelching of his cock's constant enter and exit of your pussy sounding throughout the room.

between his groans and grunts, the boy continued to praise you, his newest little cockslut– only to elicit needy whines from your lips in return.

it was obvious that by the end of the night, he'd have you fucked to the brink of dumb.

[papaya-twinks]

get over it! - l.n - p.2

Warnings: Angst, swearing, mental breakdown, breaking glass.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - sorry this took so long, I was doing all Lando’s birthday ones x

parts 🧡

Time Skip - Formula One Baku Grand Prix Pre-Race

Baku had always been a city of contrasts—historical yet modern, chaotic yet beautiful. And today, it felt like the perfect reflection of Lando's mood as he walked down the paddock, his eyes hidden behind his dark sunglasses, jaw clenched tight.

Since your little ‘incident’ with Lando at Qualifying, you’d made sure to steer well out of his way. You would rather not be blamed for his driving by Zak or Andrea anyhow. It did slightly piss off the mechanics on Lando’s side of the garage, however.

Your energy was something that helped a lot of them to keep going, and now you were steering clear of Lando’s while side of the garage. You hadn’t even noticed him sliding into Oscar’s garage, as you handed around drinks.

“Y/N,” he said, tapping you on the shoulder, your shoulders immediately raising defensively, your head turning away from, signalling your dislike in speaking to him. “Y/N," he pressed, this time with more urgency. "Can we talk?"

You shook your head, still not looking at him. "I don’t think there’s anything left to say,” you said simply, handing some of Oscar’s mechanics some drinks. "You’re avoiding me," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. "You can’t just walk away, not after what happened,” he said firmly.

“Yes I can, besides, why do you even care? It’s not like you to do so,” you said, placing your tray down, taking some new cups from the stack. “Some of my mechanics are pissed about you not being in the garage and stuff,” he mumbled, slightly annoyed.

“Oh, and they made you drag your ass here to ask?” you asked, a scoff on your lips as Lando rolled his eyes. “Sorry for asking you to do your own damn job,” he snapped, his voice filling with the frustration and bite from earlier.

“Let me do my fucking job, and stop talking to me, then,” you said, your voice with equally as much spite as you glared at him, his jaw set firm, eyes narrowed. You rolled your eyes, walking past him, your chin held high - so what if he was a driver? He didn’t own you!

You’d had many fights with Lando, countless, some of them about such minor things, you almost laughed when you looked back at them. Of course, there was a time, even after the Sochi incident, where maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he could have forgiven you.

But then again, it was Lando Norris. He’d do anything just to fuck shit up.

Flashback - 2021 Mexican Grand Prix

It had started innocently enough - a late-night discussion about his diet. He had asked you to double-check his hydration formula before heading to the gym. You’d pointed out that it didn’t seem balanced, that he'd been skipping meals. He’d brushed it off like it was nothing. But that was just the start. 

“Why do you always act like you know better?” he had snapped, voice low but cutting. “I’m the one racing out there. You’re just a helper,”. His words stung. You didn’t respond immediately, too shocked by the sudden shift in his tone. But when you did, your voice was tight with restraint.

“Just a helper?” you’d repeated, incredulous. “I’ve been working with you for years, Lando. Don’t act like I don’t know how to do my job,” you had said, your voice edged with a hint of shock and hurt. “You don’t work with me, Y/N, you’re not on my level, you won’t ever be on my level. You work for the team, at least get it right,”.

“You can’t just skip meals and expect your hydration to be perfect,” you had replied, a little more firmly. “Your body needs food to process all the fluids properly. If you’re running on empty, no amount of water is going to make a difference.”

“I’m fine,” Lando shot back immediately, his tone defensive. “I told you, I’m good. I just didn’t feel like eating. It’s not a big deal,” he said, his voice becoming more and more frustrated. Why couldn’t he understand what you were saying? And why did all your arguments have to be centred around water?

For a moment, it seemed like Lando was going to say something else, but instead, he crossed his arms, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I don’t need a babysitter, Y/N. I’m not a child. I know how to do my job,” he had said, his eyes narrowed once more.

The words hit harder than they should have. You’d been working with him for quite a while, supporting him in every way you could, and this was the first time you felt like he didn’t appreciate it. “I never said you were,” you had said, your voice cold now, your patience worn thin.

“But when you start acting like a diva and skipping meals while I’m the one having to pick up the pieces, then yeah, maybe I do need to step in,” you said, your jaw set firmly and your eyes narrowed. Lando opened his mouth to retort, but you turned away before he could, your back to him as you grabbed your tablet from the table.

Your hands had been shaking with frustration, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “I don’t have time for this right now,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him. “I’ve got a hundred other things to do,” you moved to his door, only stopped by his voice.

He didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you. After a long, charged silence, he finally spoke. “You think I’m just acting like a diva, huh?” he asked, his voice colder than you would have thought, sharp and almost like a snarl.

“Im not the one who fucking acts like I run the whole team off my own back - all you do is give water to people, Y/N, you’re useless!” he snapped, his voice raising as you flinched. “Useless? I’m not-,” you started, your own voice becoming louder.

“Don’t give me that bullshit, Y/N! You think, just coz a few people like you, that you’re the one managing this whole team? You don’t do shit, Y/N, you’re not important! People would be sad you left your day or two and forget about it, okay? You’d be replaced in an instant, you have no skill!”.

All of this. Over a water plan. “I…fuck you, Lando,” you said, your eyes brimming with tears, voice cracking as you stepped out the door, not even sparing him a glance as you rushed away from him,”

Present Time - Formula One Baku Grand Prix

Sure, you were pissed at Lando, but it really wasn’t fair to take it out on the whole team, do, begrudgingly, you dragged yourself to Lando’s side of the garage to hand out refreshments, much to the relief of the mechanics and engineers.

Just imagining if Sochi had never happened in 2021, or you’d never said the comment that you’d said, it would’ve been some different, and you would’ve been cheering and going crazy with the team, watching Lando climb higher and higher from his low position.

You could practically feel the tension radiating off of Lando’s car, the stress of a potential championship fight that could be washed away due to one bad qualifying session, or the struggles of getting through to at least a points playing position, everyone was on edge.

Lando had a lot of positions to make up if he wanted to salvage his weekend, or at least begin to try and gain some points. And boy, did he make up positions. One after another, he passed car after car, refusing to let the mistake of qualifying 16th define his race. He was determined to prove himself.

As the race wore on, Lando's mood lifted. Every overtake, every clean pass, brought him closer to his goal. He had no idea what position he was in now—he was just racing, just pushing harder than he ever had. When the final laps came, he found himself fighting for 4th. And when he crossed the line, there it was: 4th place.

But all you could do was bury it deep inside of you and push Lando out of your mind - sometimes there were times when you wished you could have screamed and cheered with the team, like in Miami. But you had Oscar’s current winning margin to distract you from the hurt in the pit of your belly.

Time Skip - Post Race - Baku

The mechanics jostled round the garage, all talking, but slowly leaving, exiting the garage as the sky darkened, a pale shade of greyish-blue, a colour you found quite beautiful actually. Like a reflection of the ocean, in some ways.

“Why are you still here?” a voice snapped you from your train of thought, ruining what was otherwise quite a peaceful movement, your gaze forced sway from the clouds. “None of your business,” you scoffed, picking up your drinks tray from the side as Lando stared.

“I mean, kinda is,” he replied, his nose scrunched distastefully, like you were something or someone lower than him, which was how he perceived you anyways. “Everyone else has gone home,” he pointed out.

“Cheers Captain Obvious,” you said sarcastically, the glasses tinkling on your tray, some with lines of red wine at the bottom, beams of white from the lights above reflecting off the glass. “Whatever,” Lando said, his voice nearly a mumble as he dug he is hands into his pockets.

“Look, I’d appreciate if you stayed the fuck out of my way,” Lando said sarcastically, “I can’t stand your stupid presence,” he snapped, “there’s nothing to fucking be so happy about, I can’t have you annoyingly positive energy around all the time,”.

“Excuse me?” you said, not quite sure what to say after that little outburst of his came from. “You heard me, you’re stupidly positive and all you do is frolic around with that stupid little tray of yours,” Lando snapped, pushing the tray out of your hand, the plate clattering onto the floor, the glasses shattering at your feet.

“Lando, what the fuck is your issue?!” you half-screamed, scrambling away from the shards of glass scattered on the floor, cutting at the soles of your sneakers. “Just….fuck off, okay?!” he said, his curls a messy heap on his head, his eyes wild.

He looked on the verge of a full breakdown as you stared, in shock at the whole thing. He’d been fine a few seconds ago, what the hell had happened? “Lando, I didn’t-,” you started, raising your hands almost in surrender.

“I don’t care, I don’t care, Y/N!” he covered his ears, “Just fuck off!”. You said nothing, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stumbled back, away from the glassy heap on the floor, and rushing away from the garage. You’d never seen Lando break down before.

Was he…Was he okay?

[itwasthereaminuteago]

|| Perfect Fit ||

Pairing: Huge monster boyfriend x regular female gf

Tags/warnings: choose your own monster! I've left it fairly open description-wise apart from him being generally huge and the massive cock... he can be whoever or whatever you like 😉

Minors DNI, size kink, fairly gentle monster!bf, until things get going? Pet names, praise, begging, massive cock kink, bucketloads of come, creampie, aftercare.

WC 2.2k of pwp.

Reblog if you enjoy! 🖤

I'm talking about that usual trope of your monster boyfriend having a monster-sized cock but that there's just absolutely no way he's gonna fit and it's making you upset.

Even though you both have a multitude of other ways to give each other pleasure, you're so very desperate to make this happen, you're having almost constant daydreams about how utterly full he'd make you feel, your mouth watering and body melting at the mere thought of what would happen when you… and if he... 🫠

"I want to try!" You whine, annoyed that you sound so pathetic but you're so frustrated by his doleful eyes and the way he's shaking his head at your insistent pleas.

"No, sweetheart, we've already been over this. I'd never want to risk hurting you."

"But y-you wouldn't, I know you wouldn't, I can do it, I want to do it. We can try, please just let me try!"

"Is it because I’m not doing enough to satisfy you?" He traces his claws lightly against the side of your face, bringing his huge hand to cup the side of your jaw. His brows are knit together with concern. "You've got to let me know-"

You shake your head emphatically, placing your hands on the vast expanse of his chest. "No you do, of course you do, but I really want this."

"Kitten, just... just let me use my mouth on you, you know I'll make it so good-"

He lets out the tiniest oof as you ineffectually push him back in mild annoyance.

"This is me letting you know my love, you're just not listening to me!" You sigh dramatically, throwing yourself face down on the huge bed you share.

You hear a resigned sigh behind you, and then the tender touch of his hand on the skin of your back, moving downward to give your ass a gentle squeeze. "Well, we're gonna need a lot of lube." He concedes.

You quickly spin around, a huge, bright smile on your face. "I know, I've already been shopping!"

Now that it's about to happen, you're shaking, laid on your back with your knees up and spread wide, sweat dripping from your shuddering body and soaking into the sheets as your handsome monster boyfriend brings you to your third orgasm using one of your biggest cock toys. You've worked your way up gradually but it's still nowhere near the same massive girth of his own. Even so he was extremely insistent on spending plenty of time on preparing you properly. The rippling waves of your latest high are slow to dissipate, but that doesn't mean you aren't anxious about what's to come next.

"M'gonna leave that in there just now, you okay with that sweet girl?" He pushes on the thick base of the soft silicone, making sure it stays seated in your pussy while you're still contracting around it.

"mmhm," you hum, opening your eyes to look up at him. "Feels real nice..."

"Looks real nice." He says, in that familiar low tone that so often marks his arousal.

Your gaze is automatically pulled down his body, and no matter how many times you've seen it before, you're always left mesmerized at the unsheathing of his cock. It fills up and firms steadily, blood pumping to make it heavy and thick, so painfully thick…

He must notice the slightly apprehensive look on your face. “You know we don't have to, you can tap out any time. You know I'd be more than happy just fucking those pretty tits of yours.”

He flashes a grin that breaks the worry, your light laugh turning into a gentle moan as he palms your bare breasts, pinching your nipple between his claws.

“I told you, I want to.” you pout, and he finally grunts in acknowledgement.

“Alright princess, I'll give you what you want.”

You had already made clear you wanted him over you despite his claims that you being on top would give you more control. There was no way you could keep holding yourself up on your thighs above him after the earth shattering orgasms you'd already had, so he'd promised to go as slow as you needed and you fully trusted that he would.

He slowly pulls the dildo out of you, a wet flood of your arousal following as you murmur softly at the sensation of suddenly feeling so empty.

You're looking up at him now as his massive bulk shadows you, opening yourself as much as you're able to let him fit between your thighs. The very tip of his bulbous cock slides slowly between your folds, deep reddish purple in colour, shining as he bathes it in your slick juices eagerly nudging at your entrance.

“You ready, pretty girl?”

Even though your pussy is so engorged and puffy after all the prior stimulation, you're still tiny next to his enormous and angry looking thick-ridged shaft. He’s almost having second thoughts about if he will fit at all, but turns his attention to the bud of your swollen glistening clit, spitting right on it. It's not like you really need it with the way you're soaked with your own arousal and the generous amount of lube he'd used earlier, but your reaction as he starts to rub slow sloppy circles around it makes him sure it was the right decision.

“M’ready- unnh!” You mewl as his hips push forward again and you feel him breaching you.

“That's good, you're doing so good...” he soothes. “just relax.”

You start to pant, moaning louder as he presses in further, you already feel stretched, so full up, you don't know how much more you could possibly take.

“Ohh- oh! Is there much more? It's so big!”

He's not even got past the thickest part of the head yet… but he's not gonna worry you with that.

“Just a little more, take a big deep breath for me sweetheart, you can do it.”

Your tight little cunt flutters so maddeningly around him as he starts to rub your clit faster and firmly. He listens to you breathe in, then, as you exhale, he punches forward, growling as the fat head of his cock finally pops inside you with an obscene squelch. You squeal, writhing uncontrollably beneath him, back bowed up from the bed as your body tries to accept the blunt intrusion. You've never felt so incredibly stuffed and overwhelmed, thinking you've really bitten off more than you can chew, panting so hard, trying your hardest to just relax because you know it'll make it easier but he's just too much, he's too big…

“There we go, that's it baby, just breathe. You're such a good girl, you know that?”

You have to force yourself to gulp in more air, blowing it back out in a slow shuddering breath. You nod even as you whine with the effort, your wide wet eyes blinking up at him in adoration.

“Okay, m’gonna give you a little more now. Nice and slow, hm?”

More?! There's more?? It can't be possible, it feels like he's reached right up inside to your navel already, like there's just not any space left for him to go. Your eyes are starting to sting from holding back tears, more of frustration than of pain. Your hands are clasping and gripping to hold onto the small part of his massive shoulders you're able to reach, and you're aware that you're whimpering constantly now.

You wanted this, you remind yourself, as he reaches for the large bottle of lube and drizzles a generous amount on to where his monster dick disappears into you.

He draws his hips back slightly and then gives another small thrust forward causing you to moan out his name long and loud. It's a lot, but as he gives your body some time to adjust it's also beginning to feel good, your walls clenching repeatedly around his girth.

“Mmn… y’like that, huh?” He husks close to your face. He holds himself so steady with his immense strength above you, it must be difficult for him to reign in his desire and enact such patience, that's he's holding back from just letting fully loose and fucking you hard and fast. The thought drives you wild. A squeak escapes as you feel him twitching inside.

“Sorry baby, can't help it when you're so tight and feel so good like this.”

He leans down towards your chest, eyes glinting and tongue emerging to lick around and over your pebbled nipples. You arch again, this time due to the fact your sensitivity has increased tenfold, the movement dragging his cock so much deeper within you, easily probing against the sweet spot that makes you lose your shit. He's still only halfway in, pushing the backs of your thighs back closer to the bed allowing him to squeeze another fat inch inside.

“Uhhh fu-ck!” your voice breaks as you think you just might explode. He tries another short thrust, more lube squishing out from your stretched hole as he nudges in even further, your nails digging deep into his skin as you whimper with increasing pleasure.

“That’s it princess, almost there…” he grunts through gritted teeth. “so perfect, doing so well.”

He starts slowly moving his hips back and forth, gradually working that massive dick in and out of you, the sensation of fullness making your eyes roll back into your head. You feel the soft weight of his heavy balls against you each time he pounds into your weeping pussy, your mouth hanging open, every forward thrust punching loud desperate sounds from you.

“S-so goood!” You mewl up at him, and he smiles as he leans down to kiss you. As he licks into your mouth he reaches between your joined bodies, a gentle finger brushing over your slippery throbbing pearl yet again.

“Oh- ohhhh!”

He draws tight focussed circles as he fucks you, and before you can even warn him, you're coming hard, crying out as your poor stuffed cunt clenches over and over.

He doesn't stop. Just rolls you both over so you're sitting above him now, thighs spread so wide you think you'll break in two. You're surrendering as you tire, you want him to use you as his own personal little fucktoy.

As if reading your thoughts and feeling your body adapt he starts to fuck you faster, holding your hips, taking your weight in those big hands, bouncing you up and down on his cock. Your cream coats his length every time he withdraws, making slick wet sounds so loud yet you're not embarrassed by them, it only makes your next orgasm more intense, your come dripping down to his sac. Those huge balls bounce up against your ass as he keeps on going, drawing up and tightening as he gets close.

“Such a good girl, you can give me another one, can't you sweetheart? Yeah I know you can…”

Breathing is difficult, nevermind trying to talk, you're only capable of gasping and whining as he toys with your overstimulated clit. Could you even come again? You don't know, your body feels so wrung out, but the thought of being able to have him come inside you for the first time gives you the boost you need to carry on. You slide your hands from where they rest on his stomach up to your breasts, knowing how much he adores watching you play with them. You're clutching and pushing them up, teasing and pulling at your nipples as you moan, eyes locked with his. The way he's looking you can tell that he's almost there, even before you feel the first powerful throb of his cock.

“Fuck-…” his growl reverberates through every nerve of your body. “You ready, baby?”

Pleasepleaseplease you beg, and he hisses through sharply clenched teeth, spearing you on his giant shaft again and again, the thick, raised ridges of it stretching your cunt wide every time it forces its way inside your warmth.

Another twitching pulse within your tight walls has you wailing, the wave of feeling inside you crests and you fall forward, clinging on to him as it seems his cock is swelling even larger still.

Then it happens, your fifth orgasm rips through your entire body like a tsunami, your mouth opening to set free your little uh uh uhhs when you finally feel the hot rush of his seed as he unleashes with a magnificent roar.

It gushes inside forcefully, filling you up in thick spurts until it physically can't anymore. You obviously had experience of his ejaculation before, but this was different, his pulsing cock wasn't showing any signs of stopping, come leaking out in thick, viscous rivulets down your quivering inner thighs.

Instinct drives him to keep it deep inside you, pulling you close to lie flush against his body, hot grunts puffing against your neck as his hips snap up sharply, trying to push it all back inside. When he finally slows his movements and stops, his cock still throbs for a long time after. Mine, he purrs with a possessiveness that makes you feel so loved, snuggling you close and kissing the top of your head as you both wait for it to soften. When it eventually slips free you're on the verge of sleep, woken when you feel the flood of your mixed fluids trickle out of your sensitive core.

“Mm, I knew I could do it.” You murmur, nuzzling into his chest. You're very sore but satisfied, even a little bit proud of your achievement .

He grins, carefully scooping you up, carrying you to the shower where he is amazingly gentle and soft whilst cleaning you up. “You did, sweetheart, you were incredible. Never felt anything as good as when I'm with you.”

When you're done he kisses your sleepy face, on your forehead, your eyelids, and finally, a small kiss on your lips as he gets you warm, dry, and tucked into a cosy clean bed.

"My princess."

[mc-lukanette]

Luka knew that Marinette was Ladybug. Actually, he'd known for a while. What he didn't know was how long Marinette had known that he knew.

She didn't tell him so, but he saw it in how she reacted to him. She didn't feel as much need for excuses, often not saying anything before racing off as soon as there were signs of an akuma. He hadn't particularly done anything to dissuade the idea that he knew either, partly because it was true but also because he wasn't sure what to do with the information himself.

When he was certain she knew was a day on the Liberty where he'd found her idling on her phone. The other girls had headed up onto the deck, but Marinette had remained in the lounge room for whatever reason and he was genuinely curious about it.

"What are you doing?" he asked, stepping up to her and slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Luka!" She giggled innocently. "I didn't know you were here! You weren't playing anything."

"I was meditating," he said, though eyed her body language with suspicion. Her logic for not knowing he was around checked out, but he felt as if she wasn't telling the truth. He only ignored it because he couldn't figure out why she would lie about it.

"Oh. I'm just playing a new game that came out." She raised her phone as close to his face as she could.

He noted the main menu and the characters strewn about, recognizing them instantly as the superheroes that fought against akuma, such as Ladybug and even himself. He tilted his head to look past the phone at her, asking, "What's it about?"

She scooched to the side despite the already available space on the couch, then patted the spot where she'd been sitting. He wasn't a big fan of gaming himself, but he was a big fan of Marinette, so he sat in the spot she'd offered up and listened intently to her talk.

"You pick one character to start," she explained, indicating the various options on-screen, "and then the more levels you play, the more coins you get, and you can use it to buy upgrades or more characters."

"You buy characters?" He blinked.

She laughed, giving him a playful nudge in the arm. "You really don't play games, do you?"

His heart stuttered as she squished herself against him, allowing both of them a decent view of her phone. She tapped at the screen to proceed to the actual game and he tried very hard to focus on that and not the warmth to his side.

"It helps when you get a second character. You can pair them up and go on for longer since it's two instead of just one," she explained as she scrolled through various menus.

Luka also tried to not focus on the phrase 'pair them up,' which wasn't difficult at first, but then he saw the character selection screen and—

"Ladybug and Viperion," he noted.

"Hm~?" She stopped scrolling to point at the two. "Yeah, they're the pair I have."

"Only Ladybug and Viperion." That still wasn't a proper sentence, so he clarified, "You only have Ladybug and Viperion."

"Oh." She uttered it like she hadn't known when she definitely did. "Yeah? You only need two, so why should I waste my coins on anyone else when I could spend it upgrading the pair I have?"

He could think of multiple reasons. He wasn't sure how the game worked, but he imagined that the superheroes still had different powers and there were benefits depending on which two were paired up.

As if reading his mind, Marinette tapped the top edge of her phone to her chin and insisted, "Viperion's underrated. His power's not flashy, but it's really useful and he's perfect for someone like Ladybug."

His cheeks felt warm. What she was saying sounded like a casual observation of efficiency, but her voice was singing a different tune. The playful sparkle in her blue eyes as she peered up at him supported that.

"Really?" he asked quietly.

"Mhm~" She looked down at her phone again, then turned it to him to show the Ladybug and Viperion on the screen. "Their colors are even complementary. Don't they look good together?"

Never mind. His face felt hot. She even wiggled the phone at him, her smile shy but her gaze not leaving his as she waited for an answer.

Was this a punishment of sorts? Was he being tormented for not saying that he knew her identity? Was she really asking him such a thing when she already knew his feelings? Had she planned this, and that's why she was alone?

He opened his mouth, then decided he needed another second to think and cleared his throat instead. "Wouldn't that be up to them?"

It seemed like an obvious answer, but her smile widened further as if he'd passed a test. He didn't think she was actually testing him, but something of his did certainly feel tested: his sanity.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Marinette sighed, pulling away from him to slump against the backrest. Taking one more look at her phone and scrutinizing the image on the screen, she asked, "Do you think Viperion would be patient enough for someone like her?"

Caught off guard, he turned his body to better face her. "What?"

"For Ladybug. She must be busy since she's always dealing with akuma," she pointed out, waving a hand outwards, "so they wouldn't be able to date until she's dealt with Hawk Moth."

For a second, he thought she was continuing to tease him, but then it clicked for him what she was building to. She'd been playful, yet was using the conversation to tell him that they wouldn't be able to date.

Which meant that she reciprocated, something his brain was still scrambling to process, but she also felt like she couldn't act upon it due to Hawk Moth. Talking about Ladybug and Viperion as separate entities had been to keep things safe in case any of the girls returned while serving as a way of mentally distancing herself from it. It was an unpleasant realization to wrestle with against the delight of knowing that she felt the same as he did.

"I'm..." He reached over, slipping his hand over the one holding her phone. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind, no matter how busy she was."

To his confusion, she shook her head almost adamantly. He wondered if perhaps she was going to argue that 'Viperion' wouldn't mean it if he was to say such a thing, but she instead said, "I think Ladybug would want better for him than that; she'd want to be able to put herself into the relationship without Hawk Moth in the way." She stared at their hands on her phone with a soft smile. "Besides, I bet it'd be a motivator."

He leaned closer, noting how her voice had lowered in volume. "How?"

With a sheepish giggle, she replied, "Wouldn't Ladybug want to defeat Hawk Moth that much more if she knew the reward was getting to ask her future boyfriend out?"

His heart pounded, his hand on hers giving off a slight shake. What had started as a bit of joking around had grown into something more heartfelt and serious, with him suddenly wondering if Ladybug could use any of his input on how to best find out Hawk Moth's identity.

Chuckling affectionately yet with just as much longing as her, he promised, "If Ladybug is even half as amazing as he already thinks, Viperion will beat her to it when Hawk Moth's gone."

[hwanghyunjinenthusiast]

[20:57]

Tags: Christopher Bang/Bang Chan x Fem! Reader, dirty talk, mild degradation and objectification (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pussy smacking (f. receiving), breast spanking (f. receiving), nipple play (f. receiving), finger sucking (f. receiving), choking (f.receiving), piv sex without a condom, pseudo exhibitionism (? No actual exhibitionism but Reader and Chris get off on the idea of it) creampie and mentions of aftercare.

I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.

Chris isn't a strict man. Well, he's not much of a strict man.

He has very simple rules to follow and, they're more than fair. Honestly, even with a few of them, a bat of your eyelashes and a jut of your bottom lip is enough for him to forgive you for breaking them.

One of his most important ones is not to interrupt him while he's working unless it's an emergency. No disrupting him while he's producing. No disrupting him while he's streaming.

Simple enough.

However, it's a little too enjoyable pushing the boundaries with your sweetheart of a boyfriend sometimes.

The panic that barely flits across Chris's face when your name flashes across his phone almost makes you feel the slightest bit guilt. Almost.

You can't help but, giggle quietly to yourself when his eyes widen marginally at the image on his screen. Nothing but one of your large night shirts drapped over your nude body. Your hardened nipples poking through the white fabric and the barest hints of your thighs visible in the shot too. It's nothing too scandalous but, it's enough for you to notice his eyes darken marginally and his jaw clench.

A barrage of butterflies erupting in your stomach and lower, drinking in the way his face changes. Anyone who isn't too familiar with him would barely notice the shifts but, you know Chris better than the back of your hand.

"Sorry, Stays. Got an important message that I had to check. Sorry for that," he forces a giggle out and his dimples would be endearing if you didn't notice the how tense his smile is.

Perhaps you could've still saved yourself if you'd stopped there. If you didn't let the intrusive, exhilarating impulse to push his buttons win. However, you let them. So, you continue. The pictures of your scantily clad body continue to fill your chat with him periodically. You're not stupid enough to spam him with them but, you sink your teeth into your bottom lip eargely with every glance of his eyes to his phone when your name and 'image' pop up.

The tick in his jaw and barely restrained annoyance in his eyes shouldn't be as enticing as it is. Arousal simmer in the pit of your stomach with every minute change of his expression.

"Thank you all so much for watching. I love you and, I'll see you next time!" He attempts to end off the hours long stream cheerily. Striking his signature peace sign pose before your laptop screen goes black momentarily.

You're not left to stew in your thoughts for long. Your phone vibrating next to you within seconds.

Chris 💕: come here.

The smile that spreads across your face is likely a tad too wide and too toothy but, you can't bring yourself to care. Clamouring to your feet, you make your way to his makeshift work room within minutes. Steeling your resolve, you push on the handle and enter the room.

Your entire body seizes for what seems like a lifetime when Chris's gaze finds you. His eyes are easily one of your favourite features of his. Soft and warm and welcoming and everything that you love about him.

None of those emotions are present as he pierces you with them now.

"I said come here," he says lazily but, you know better than to miss the edge in his voice. Your insides squirming viciously as he lightly pats his, admittedly appealing, lap. His thighs straining against the shorts he opted for this time around.

Once you remember how to move, you walk towards him. Studiously avoiding his weighted stare until you're between his spread thighs. Your heart hammering against your ribcage as you wait for him to do or say anything. Anything to end your spiralling.

Chris's hands are firm as they settle on your hips and turn you around. Your brain barely manages to piece together what has happened as you now find yourself seated on his lap. Arousal spreading all across your body, to your very fingertips when you feel his half-hard cock against the swell of your ass.

"You wanted my attention, right?" He mutters into your ear. The brushes of his pillowy lips and soft breaths sending shudders down your spine while his hands innocently palm your thighs. Toying with the hem of your shirt enough to quicken your breathing.

One of his hands drifts to your throat, applying enough pressure to prompt whimpers from you and more of your arousal to seep into your already sticky panties, "I asked you a question."

"Ye-Yes. I wanted your attention," you manage to rush out. The lack of air adding to the already muddled state of your mind and you barely register his other hand shoving itself between your spread thighs.

"God, you're so wet already," he practically moans. His long fingers trailing over your soiled panties. Forcing them to cling to your folds even more and, ever brush of your clit prompting your hips to jolt into his hand.

"Did you get this wet sending me all of those pictures?" His words leave his lips more like a bite than a question. From his hand lightly wrapped around your throat and his fingers seemingly content with toying with you over your panties, it's no wonder you don't have the presence of mind to immediately respond. Your body curling into him while hushed moans fill the space of his room.

Chris's typical patience is nowhere to be found tonight. His hand comes down firm and harsh on your slick slit. Angling it just right so your clit is met with the brunt of the impact. It hurts. It hurts enough to force more watery whimpers from you and more of your arousal to leak out of your clenching hole.

"I asked you a question," he says with another quick spank to your almost ruined panties. His firm grip on your neck keeping you from curling into yourself, "My, my. I've had to repeat myself twice already. I'd hate to have to repeat myself a third time."

It's so easy to get lost in the gentle lull of his voice. Your hazy brain just barely catching the underlying threat in his tone.

"I'm sorry, Chris," you whimper out, desperately clinging to his veiny forearms in some hope of steadying yourself and focusing, "Ye-Yes. Sending those pictures made me wet. I wanted to- I liked riling you up."

"There we go," he purrs into your ear, sending bolts of lightning straight down to your sensitive clit and puffy folds, "Maybe you can be an obedient girl after all."

Any pleas and begging are swallowing by a stuttered moan as he slips his fingers into your panties. Continuing his previous ministrations and leisurely stroking you as though he has all of the time in the world. As though you can't feel his cock swelling underneath you. However, his composure never falters.

"Yes, Chris please," you beg, sounding pathetic to even your own ears but, you couldn't care less right now. You've been starved of his touch for hours. You might just crumble right here, right now if he doesn't touch you how you want. How you need.

"You're so fucking spoiled," he bites, running his teeth along your lobe as he adds a bit more pressure on the sides of your neck. Skillful fingers alternating between teasing your eager entrance and drawing featherlight circles along your clit.

"Fucking brat. Getting me fucking hard while I'm supposed to be working and, now you want to be greedy?" The knowledge that he'd gotten hard while streaming coupled with the sprinkles of humiliation from the venom in his voice just make you buck harder into his hand. In search of anything he's willing to allow you.

"I'm sorry," you keen, trying your best to grind into his hand, "I just wanted your attention. I'm sorry," you repeat desperately. Clutching at his forearms as his fingers apply more pressure to your swollen clit. His other hand freeing your throat and snaking its way under your shirt to knead your breast.

"Can't even go without me for a few fucking hours," he mutters into your neck while his hands toy with you to his heart's content, "You're so spoiled."

Any argument you have dies on your tongue when he pushes two of his long fingers into your soaked hole while his fingers pinch and tug at your hardened nipple. The pain forcing your walls to clamp around his fingers viciously.

He laps and nips at every bit of your skin that he can while his fingers work you open. Your foggy mind just barely being able to register his hips grinding up into you in search of some sort of friction. The lewd sounds of how wet you are intertwining with your high-pitched moans and needy keens all that can be heard.

The heel of his palm is angled so that it rubs right into your clit. "Chris ah," you cry out, your fingernails digging themselves deeper into his forearms as he builds up your release expertly. You jolt forward once again when his heavy palm comes down on both of your breasts in rapid succession. Whimpers coaxed out of you as more of your arousal drenches his hand. You wouldn't be surprised if you'd leaked onto his shorts by now.

"This a punishment, baby," he coos. It's so easy to sink into the softness of his voice. The juxtaposition in his tone and words and movements all only tightening the knot in the depths of your gut.

"Don't forget," he whispers into your skin as his lightly drags his teeth along you. Goosebumps rising all over your body and your orgasm building up higher and higher-

Only for Chris to stop his movements all together.

"Chris," the way you whine his name is frankly pathetic to your own ears but, you can bring yourself to feel self-conscious when you were so close you could practically taste it. Your wetness further coating his palm and your walls spasming. Your hips jerking up to his touch instinctively.

"I've definitely spoiled you too much," he drawls into your skin. Easing his fingers out of you as though you're not close to tears from having bliss ripped away from you so mercilessly.

"Chris. Chris please. I'm sorry, I won't do it again. I won't disobey you again," you rush out, your hips grinding your sopping pussy against him for a taste of relief. "I'll be good please. Please. I want to cum please."

"Remember, this is supposed to be a punishment, baby," he tuts into your skin. However, the butterflies in your stomach rise to your throat as he manoeuvres you so he can reach the waistband of his shorts. Impatiently tugging them and his boxers down so he can free his cock.

You watch as best as you can as he barely wraps his hand around it. Giving it a few pumps before lightly smacking it against your wet folds. His tip occasional brushing your clit and causing needy whimpers to leave your dry lips.

"Do you want something?"

You're not above begging, "You, Chris. Please touch me. I want you to fuck me, please. I want to feel your cock inside of me plea-" a sharp gasp leaves you as he guides your hips down onto his cock. Making sure he's properly aligned before pushing you down onto it. He's seemingly content to let you claw at his biceps as he stretches you. Your lashes flutter with every centimetre that he let's you sink onto.

Your walls clench and unclench around him sporadically, his tip kissing the deepest parts of you as he gives you time to adjust. His hand drifting from your hip back to fondle and massage your breast while his other hand cups your face.

His first thrust is merciless. Barely allowing you a moment to catch your breath or for your mind to catch up as his sets a harsh pace from the offset. The obscene sounds of his cock shaping your pussy around him echoing through his work room coupled with your respective watery moans and gritted curses.

His fingers toy with your bottom lip and you open your mouth without anymore prompting from him. Your tongue lapping at his fingers and the slight saltiness of your wetness hitting your tastebuds as he shoves them deeper into your mouth. Gagging you on them.

"Look at you," he pants out between sharp thrusts, "Spreading your thighs and letting me fuck you in my work room. Sucking on my fingers like you're little better than a mindless toy."

Your keens are completely muffled by his fingers and your pussy tightens around him further as his words wash over you. God, you're getting close again you pray to whoever is listening that he'll let you cum this time. You may just lose your mind if he doesn't.

"Want everyone to know how much of a needy toy you are?" He mutters into your shoulder, using his unoccupied fingers to angle your face, "Want me to fuck you during one of my streams? Let the entire world know how much of a disobedient slut you are?"

The thoughts makes your head spin. You're nodding before you even realise it. Clutching him to you even closer as he continues to fuck into your poor pussy. The sight of his camera aimed directly at the two of you bringing back that all too familiar sensation of the knot in your gut tightening.

"Yeah?" He moans into your overheated, sticky skin, "You like the idea of that don't you. Love the thought of everyone watching me fuck your pretty pussy." He breathes between laboured groans of his own. His hold on your breast burning and his fingers coating themselves further in your saliva that dribbles down your chin.

"Want everyone to watch you get your pussy filled with my cum," he laughs with little humour. You honestly don't know he's still able to speak so coherently when you feel like your mind is coming apart at the seams.

"You're such an attention seeker."

His words are scorching lashes that serve to only further fuel your desire and bring you closer and closer to the edge. Your thighs quivering and you're vaguely worried that you might have dug a little too deeply into his pale skin with your nails.

"Fuck," he breathes, his hips beginning to stuttering into you, "Your perfect pussy just tightened even more around me. That's filthy, baby. You do like the idea of spreading your thighs for everyone to watch huh," he pants against your skin between strained groans. His cock twitching incessantly inside of you with each every uncoordinated thrust.

Your frantic nods only spur him on further. His grip on your jaw and breast bruising as his orgasm hits him. Thick ropes of his cum filling your spasming walls while his moans, curses and pants of your name hit your ears. It doesn't take much else for you to cum around his still twitching cock after that. Your head flying back to rest on his shoulder as your hips rock against him. Your combined releases dribbling out of your spent pussy onto his softening cock and likely onto his couch.

You're too far away to care all that much right now.

Chris recovers before you do. Gently pulling his wet fingers from your mouth and kiss the side of your face. His large hand shifting downwards from your breast to soothe you as you continue to twitch in his lap. "You did so well, baby," he coos against the side of your face. Affectionately nudging you with his nose as he pulls you further into his broad, sweaty chest. The skin left bare by his tank top hot to the touch.

"You were so mean," you pout tiredly with no real venom. Fatigue replacing every other emotion as you happily melt into him.

His laugh is far too cute given everything he put you through moments ago and his cum still leaking down your thighs, "I wouldn't have to be mean if you listened to me."

You have no retort for that.

"Now come on, let's get you cleaned up and go to bed, okay?"

AN: I was originally working on a much softer Chris timestamp then Paris happened. So, here we are. I am going through something with Chris at the moment it seems given how long this winded up being.

Reblogs are greatly appreciated.

Do not repost, edit, copy and/or translate my work. I do not give you my permission to do so, nor will you ever receive it.

[ghostsprincess]

I can't stop thinking about Ghost being a better boyfriend than your ex, even without establishing that title....

This is a continuation of part one.

warning: mention domestic abuse

💀

Simon was there every night you worked. You never gave him your schedule, but he'd show up and settle onto one of the stools like clockwork. Soap often joined him, and while they carried on like always, you knew Simon's gaze lingered on your body. You could practically feel the weight as you took drink orders and pulled pints. It wasn't unwelcome. In fact, it made everything easier knowing you weren't alone if your ex dared show his face.

When your shifts ended, Simon would walk you back to your new place. The one time you insisted he didn't need to do that, he grunted and said, "What if I want to?"

You didn't mention it again. Instead you got into a routine of giving him a fifteen minute warning when your shift was going to end, and you'd head out into the cold night with him at your side. He was mostly quiet while you chatted about whatever was on your mind. When you'd ask him about himself, he'd reroute the conversation back to you. Then he would wait while you unlocked your door and stepped inside.

You always had the urge to invite him in, but you were taking up so much of his time already. And what would you do with him anyway? This hulking military man with kind eyes? 

You thanked him and gave him a little wave before ducking inside, and you knew he always waited until he heard the sound of your door locking before he left. 

"Y' alright, love?" he asked one night when you were starting to feel particularly good about yourself again. Your split lip had healed which required less makeup. You felt stronger for having left your ex in the dust. You were wearing a new top that made you feel sexy.

"Yeah. I'm alright, Simon. I feel really good, actually."

You served him a drink and refused to let him pay. You really ought to make him stop tipping you at this rate. He was doing so much for you and getting nothing in return. He was doing all of the boyfriend duties just as he had promised, but he never so much as touched you other than the occasional hand hold.

What if you wanted more?

He broke into your thoughts as he said, "I can tell. Ya' been smiling more. Almost ready to go?"

Tonight you felt like you were floating along the dirty sidewalk with your hand tucked in Simon's massive paw. He was keeping you warm without doing anything, and he listened to your nervous rambling as you tried your best to work up your courage. But the two of you reached your front door all too quickly.

"Get inside," he said, voice deep and tender in spite of the command. "An' lock up."

When he started to pull his hand away, you didn't let him. And you didn't budge when one of his eyebrows inched higher. "Not quite yet," you whispered, toe tapping the cement step you were standing on which put you slightly closer to him in height. "I have to tell you something."

Simon's lips pressed together in a tight line, and his chin dipped in a slight nod. "I need to tell ya' something, too. Just don't want to."

"What?" you asked immediately, the lightness you'd been feeling instantly replaced with a lead brick inside you.

"I'm leaving. Late tomorrow night. Not until after I make sure ya' get home from the pub."

"Leaving?" you whispered, heart pounding faster. He was in the military. Some sort of special mission involvement. You knew that much. And you could read between the lines to know that someone who looked and behaved like he did was probably about to risk his life, not for the first time. "Simon, where are you going?" you asked with tears in your eyes even though you figured he wouldn't be able to tell you.

Simon shook his head, his lips curling into a soft smile. It was a rare sight, and it made you dizzy. "Pretty little thing like you shouldn't be worried 'bout me." You wanted to tell him you would be. You'd worry nonstop until you saw him again. You'd come to rely on him, but mostly you liked how you felt when he was around. "There'll be someone to walk ya' home from work every night. I can promise that."

You wanted to lean in and kiss him, but instead you threw your arms around his neck. He was so solid and warm, and the scrape of his facial hair on your cheek was somehow comforting. "But I'll see you tomorrow, right?" you asked, voice breaking on a sob.

"I'll see ya' tomorrow, love."

He didn't move an inch as you extracted yourself, and the sound of his receding footsteps could only be heard once you'd locked yourself inside.

💀

Part three

[dolcekissy]

doll face , ღ

: ̗̀➛ bsf!rafe being obsessed with bunny!reader. poor boy is obsessed with his best friend ;(

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ main masterlist | bunny!reader x bsf!rafe masterlist

disclaimer // 18+ content. this story includes mentions of sex, fingering, oral, and yeah.

─────────────────────────

rafe being obsessed with his best friend would definitely consist of him basically fighting demons the entire time he's with you. poor baby just wants to fuck you sooo bad :(

sucking on a lollipop? his dick is hard the moment you started pulling the wrapper off the lollipop. sitting in his bed with him while scrolling on instagram? his dick is hard the moment you sat on his bed.

definitely fantasizes about the time you finally do let him hit. he's not gonna be a weirdo and beg ─ have you seen him? he's not one to beg for pussy, he'll make mfs work for his dick imo.

rafe would definitely want you to go everywhere with him ─ to the point if someone sees rafe out somewhere ─ you're definitely somewhere trailing behind him.

golfing with top? you're there. running errands? you're there. at a party? you're there. you're always there with him.

"do i really need to go get gas with you?" rafe nods his head, grabbing your arm and his keys as he shoves you into the passenger side and shuts the door. "it takes two seconds to pump your gas and go back home... what am i going fo─"

"shut up."

rafe would definitely be up your ass too ─ he's with you 24/7 too. you don't mind it but sometimes he does a little too much, like when he follows you to the bathroom when you have to pee or when he'll check your location and see your at the store ─ he'll just pop up out of nowhere.

"fuck! you scared me! how did you know i was here?" your eyes are wide ─ your hand resting over your chest to calm yourself as he looks at everything in your cart.

or when you're taking a shower, poor boy just can't leave you alone.

"rafe. i'm taking a fucking shower, get out!" you yell as he patiently sits on the toilet seat ─ your towel and clothes sitting in his lap as his foot taps against the floor, completely ignoring what you were saying as he starts talking about something random.

he lowkey just wants to take a peek at your naked body too.

wait whaaat, who said that?

rafe cant sleep without you ─ so if you're out late, your parents know your sleeping at rafes.

half the time he's trying to calm himself down because he's hard as fuck seeing you in a tank top and pink, satin shorts. he's mentally fanning himself with his hands as you back your body up into his ─ praying you don't feel his hard on.

turning the other way immediately, his back facing yours the second your ass presses up against him. "hmm, m'just gonna face this way ─" he says it so awkwardly too, leaving you confused but also you couldn't give a fuck less.

rafe would be over the moon the second you let him hit. i wanna say he'd cum so fast like a teenage boy but i feel like he would also wanna savor the moment.

he'd take it so serious, finger fucking you, eating you out, kissing and licking your tits ─ literally everything. then he'd fuck you sooo good ─ just so you know this is what you've been missing out on this whole time.

─────────────────────────

[loonylupinblack3]

Go Slow

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: SMUT! p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), riding, (brief) dry humping

Summary: it's your first time and Logan tries to go slow, he really does, but some things just can't be helped

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: i'm not too practiced in smut so sorry if it's shit 😭

Logan knew you were on the shy side of things. During the start of your relationship he’d had to coax words from you, feelings and opinions you held until you felt comfortable enough to share them without being asked. You’d be nervous and fidgety when asking to see him, acting like he was an attractive stranger when he was your boyfriend. 

In all honesty though Logan didn’t mind. He enjoyed your shy, almost naive personality, and was more than happy to wait for you to be comfortable with him before suggesting going any further. 

Sure, it was difficult for him to wait, but not impossible. If his pants tightened slightly when you walked in the room with ridiculously short shorts and practically sat in his lap with them, you didn’t notice. When you were sleeping in bed together and would unconsciously rub yourself against him, causing him to have to leave the bed for a bit lest he did something he'd regret, you remained blissfully unaware. And if he was putting away your laundry and came across a pair of lacy black panties with bows adorning it, you wouldn’t even notice they went missing.

Logan was more than okay to wait.

You, on the other hand, were not.

It started with small changes in you and your actions, though Logan couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was. You were more flustered around him than usual, jumpier and shier than you’d been before. You were quieter too, staring at him with more intensity than before, as if trying to read his mind. Yet it wasn’t as if you were pulling away from him, because you were much more touchy and clingy than usual, always needing to hold him and often being the initiator of any make out session you two might have- which is as far as you’d gone.

It was during one of these sessions, having started when you both grew bored of the movie playing on the screen, that you started straddling Logan, kissing him with more fevor than you usually did. Surprised, though certainly not disappointed, Logan kissed you back, hands resting on your thighs and occasionally running up and down them when his control slipped.

When he felt you rock against him slightly he knew something was up. You were never this forward with him, and was always the one to stop Logan when he got a bit carried away. Yet there you were, gently rocking against him while you kissed, moving against his jeans almost desperately, rubbing against him until there was a rock hard bulge for you to move against and Logan had to gently push you off him.

Immediately you started apologising, looking at your hands nervously fidgeting with your t-shirt, refusing to so much as glance at Logan.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright Bub,” Logan said gently. “I just don’t want to do anything before talking about it first.”

You risked a glance at him, trying to find any lie in his face. “You’re not angry at me?”

Logan would have laughed if he wasn’t worried about upsetting you further. “‘Course not. I fucking loved that, actually, but we can’t do it, or anything like that, without talking about it first. I gotta make sure you’re okay with it.”

You nodded your head with such eagerness Logan’s cock twitched in his pants. “I’m okay with it.”

He smiled at your needy demeanour and had to hold himself back from gladly going along with it. “What exactly do you want, Sweetheart? I gotta know that.”

You bit your lips shyly, glancing up at him from your lashes in such a way Logan was tempted to be fucked with all of this and just take you. He’d been waiting for months, however, so he could certainly wait a few more minutes, and restrained himself as such.

“I want to feel good,” you mumbled quietly. “Want you to make me feel good.”

Oh fuck.

Logan wasn’t sure he could handle this. Desire was coursing through his veins, his cock was throbbing almost painfully against his pants as he watched you, shy and naive but so wanting for him.

“Alright Bub, we can do that,” he eventually said, because fuck he wanted to make you feel good too. He wanted you moaning and whimpering his name, whining and panting underneath him because of him.

Yet as soon as he had you undressed and under him he could tell it wasn’t what you wanted. You looked petrified, eyes squeezed shut as you waited for Logan to enter you, and that just wouldn’t do.

“I’m not doing this Sweetheart,” he said, moving away.

You opened your eyes, seeming both relieved and disappointed at the same time. “What? Why?”

Logan sighed, wrapping you up in his arms and kissing your neck. Even with both of you naked it was surprisingly not desire filled and simply comforting. “Because you obviously don’t want it.”

You shook your head and turned around to face him, straddling him in a similar position as before. “I do want it. Just… it felt a bit scary like that.”

Logan thought about her words for a moment before inspiration struck him. “Do you want to ride me instead?”

You actually gasped, your eyes widening at the suggestion, yet he could also see the desire radiating off of you- he could smell it too- and feel the slick coming from your cunt at the thought. He smirked, taking that as a yes.

“I’m going to lift you up and slowly place you down on me. You can stop me at any moment, okay?” he asked you, wanting to make sure you were comfortable with this.

You nodded your head, looking apprehensive but also excited, as you glanced down at his hard on, licking your lips slightly. “I don’t know if it will fit.”

Logan nearly groaned then and there. “It will.”

Hesitant but sure, you let Logan’s hands wrap around your waist and lift you up, positioning his cock at your entrance. He gave you a few seconds to back out, and when you didn’t, staring at him confidently, Logan sunk you down on his cock.

Fuck even just his tip inside you felt like heaven, your cunt squeezing against him. You let out a gasp and he hesitated, waiting, and you slowly nodded your head, giving him the go ahead to continue. He did so gently, making you take him inch by inch, stopping every so often for you to get used to the feeling of him until you’d finally taken all of him inside you.

The feeling of your walls squeezing his cock was heavenly. He could barely think, and all he wanted to do was fuck you hard and fast, chase the release he so desperately wanted. Yet he waited for it to feel comfortable for you, waiting for the pain to ease before he did anything.

“Okay… what now?” you asked in a timid voice.

Logan had to muffle the sound threatening to escape him at the sight of you blinking bashfully at him while he was inside you. It was too good to be true.

“Now you move,” Logan said roughly, because he didn’t trust himself to move and not fuck you viciously like he wanted to.

You thought for a moment before giving an experimental rock, gasping at the pleasure accompanying the action. You repeated the rock again, then again, creating a slow but sure movement that was slowly killing Logan.

Every sway of your hips, the way you rode his cock eagerly if not skillfully, was pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s it baby,” he rasped. “Just like that, you’re doing so good for me baby.”

You rolled your hips, whining at the praise and closing your eyes but only increasing your motions, one hand moving up to cup your breast. You grounded onto him, gasping when he hit that perfect spot, whispering Logan’s name like a prayer

He swore at the sight, and couldn’t help the jerk his hips made, a small gasp escaping you. It felt so good, the spike of pleasure overwhelming and your readily response too much, and he did it again.

You moaned this time, a dirty, high pitched sound that was ringing in Logan’s ears, urging him on as he took your hips in his hand and lifted you up, only to slam you down on his cock again. Your moan was delicious, and you placed both your hands on his chest, moving forward to make him go deeper.

Logan did groan this time, and used your hips to continue moving you on his dick, his large hands squeezing the soft flesh of your hips. You were a whining mess, eyes glazed and body limp above him.

“Feel so good,” Logan grunted, thrusting into you. “So fucking good for me.”

You whimpered, gasping as your eyes fluttered closed again. Logan grinned.

“You like that baby? You like me telling you what a good girl you’re being, riding my cock so prettily.”

Your moans came more frequent, panting every second, and Logan could tell you were close. He increased his pace, wanting to see you fall apart in front of him, and wasn’t disappointed by the result.

“Come on baby, cum for me.”

With a cry you threw your head back, ecstasy painting your face as you came, your walls tightening. The feeling of them squeezing Logan’s dick, your cunt milking it for all its worth was too much and he felt himself fall after you, his load of cum shooting into your already stuffed hole.

“Fuck baby,” he cursed, helping you ride out both your highs, moving your hips over him.

You were still panting as you slowly came down from your high, boneless as you laid against Logan’s chest.

“You did so good for me darling,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head.

You let out a sound, nuzzling his neck, and he happily held you against him, pressing kisses to your face and neck till you were ready to move.

[ddejavvu]

Mean!Logan who fucks you dumb to the point all you know is how good he feels instead of Scott Summers 🤭🤭🤭

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

send me mean!logan requests!

contents/warnings: smut, minors dni. mean!logan, dumbification, dacryphilia, don't like, don't read.

"What's his name?" Logan asks thoughtfully, lips pursed as he waits for your response. You're quite unable to give him one at the moment- at least a coherent one, while his hips piston forward and back, driving his thick cock into you.

"Go on, tell me." Logan prods, bumping his nose into your temple. He's going at an impressive pace, grunting with each hefty thrust, "Do you even remember it?"

A cry escapes your lips as Logan pushes you over the edge, unceremoniously, mercilessly, and you claw at his biceps as you're thrust into your climax. Your brain shorts out with white hot pleasure, something like pain but sweeter searing in your belly as you unconsciously curl your hips up to meet Logan's cock easier. There's no point- he can't possibly go deeper - but your body moves instinctively. He feels so good that you need more.

"Cyclops ring a bell?" He asks, but your ears ring too loud for his voice to get through. Either that or your brain muffles it like wet cement is drowning your thoughts, and the only name etched into the thick sludge is Logan, Logan, Logan.

"Dickhead, maybe? Laser-brain, Goggles, One-Eye..." Logan lists his most frequently used nicknames for the mutant he'd caught cornering you in the kitchen, but all you can do is muffle your moans into the sweat-soaked fabric of Logan's wifebeater.

"Who did this to you?" He feigns concern, like he's interrogating you after a beatdown, his nose now trailing over the apple of your cheek as his lips ghost your own.

"I-aah! Logan," You whimper, now oversensitive to penetration.

"Yeah? Who?"

"Logan," You breathe, eyes bleary with tears as you breathe him in- the sight of his face, hard-set and firm. His smell- sweat and musk and sex all rolled into one. His touch, the constant pressure between your legs as he keeps his dick buried in your cunt, no longer moving his hips. His eyes- they're staring at you, drinking in the repeated moans of his name that come pouring from your mouth like blood from a wound.

"Smart girl." He says, and you're so out of your mind that you don't read the cruel sarcasm in it- the way he's teasing you as Scott's name has fled your near-vacant brain.

"Who else? Got another man in there?" Logan taps the side of your head, where your spinning brain works overtime, "No? What about in here?"

He places a hand on your pelvis, pressing down gently so that you feel the imprint of his dick inside of you clearer, harsher, more intense.

"Anyone else in here?" He asks, keeping steady pressure on your cunt until you squirm in penance, begging for mercy from his teasing.

"That's right. Keep it that way." He snarls, letting up on your pelvis and using the hand to cup your cheek, relishing in the way you thoughtlessly lean into it, so trusting, so devoted, "Mine's the only name you need to be sayin', sweetheart. Say his again and I'll make you wash your mouth out with my fuckin' dick 'till it's all you can taste for a week."

[pasukiyo]

BEAUTIFUL THING

mike schmidt x f!reader word count; 2,573 warnings; smut, no plot, just porn :D summary; there was nothing in the world she wanted more than mike schmidt. but what were the chances he'd ever make a move on her?

 She wanted Mike Schmidt.

 Don’t get her wrong, she absolutely adored Abby, she was sweet, funny, and overall not a hard kid to take care of. But she knew all too well what her intentions were when she agreed to take up the babysitting job— how could she say no when he looked at her like that with those big, deep brown eyes?

 It was another late night spent at the Schmidt house— Mike had just gotten himself a new job with unholy hours, some late night security gig he had no choice but to take. Her mouth opened in a yawn and through her bleary vision, she blinked down to the watch on her wrist. 

 4:30 AM. Mike wouldn’t be back for another hour and a half or so. 

 She sighed and threw her head back against the cushions, staring absentmindedly at the television as some old cartoon played, audio soft and muffled. She wasn’t sure why she even bothered trying to stay up for Mike— she’d been babysitting for him for months, (without pay, might she add) and still, neither he nor she had made any moves. She wasn’t even sure if he ever even intended to make a move on her. 

 But she was just so certain that he felt at least some sort of attraction towards her. She could see it in the way he looked at her, how his eyes would absentmindedly trail down her body against his better judgment, how he’d pull the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth while he did. She could see it in the way his body would react when she came too close, like when she gave him a handshake or playfully shoved his shoulder.

 It was the same way she reacted when he was close. 

 Surely it couldn’t all be for nothing?

 Her eyelids were falling heavy against her eyes and she slowly slumped further into the cushions of the couch, hands tightening around the blanket around her body. Sleep was so close that she could reach out and feel it, and she would’ve slipped into the arms of slumber if it hadn’t been for the opening and closing of the front door. 

 She grumbled and furrowed her brows down at her watch. 

 4:35 AM. Mike wasn’t supposed to be home yet. 

 At the notion, she jolted and snapped her head towards the entrance, her heart thrumming against her chest as she prepared herself for the sight of a total stranger, ready to make a run straight for Abby’s room. She blinked and narrowed her eyes at the dark silhouette of the figure as it hung its coat on the rack bolted on the wall. 

 “Sorry. S’ just me.”

 She knew that voice. It was a voice she always dreamed about, a voice belonging to someone she’d seen practically everyday.

 “Mike?” Her voice came out rough, having not spoken for hours, not since Abby had gone to bed. “What are you doing home so early?” She asked as she pushed herself further up the sofa while Mike made his way towards the recliner, wiping a hand down his face before plopping down into the seat. She could only make out his face through the light from the television but even then, she could sense something was off. 

 Mike tapped his fingers against the armrest of the recliner, “I… I just… needed to leave… I guess,” he replied and she frowned, scooting to the far side of the couch closest to him. “Is… is everything alright?” She questioned, unsure whether or not he needed consoling. Mike leaned further back into his seat and let his eyelids flutter closed, inhaling deep through his nostrils. 

 “Just… is Abby asleep?” He finally asked after a moment and she nodded, humming. “She went down earlier than usual. Actually managed to get her to eat something,” she replied, her lips curving into a smile but quickly faltering again when she realized Mike wasn’t going to reciprocate. He looked almost… distraught. 

 Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she pondered her options. She’d known Mike for some time but even then, she still knew little to nothing about him. He slept a lot, that was for sure. And he loved his little sister and was trying so hard to be exactly the type of person she needed. But she knew nothing about him, Mike Schmidt himself. She didn’t know what he did in his free time, what he liked to eat, if he had hobbies, nothing. 

 Hell, she’d spent so much time fantasizing about him and filling in all the holes herself, she hardly even acknowledged that he could be somebody entirely else. She didn’t know the first thing about him.

 But she could learn to try. 

 She leaned forward, a steady hand warily finding his on the armrest of the recliner and she flinched when Mike snapped his eyelids open, looking between her and their touching hands. Their gazes surged into one another and she made no moves, as if seeking any sign that she should stop.

 Mike’s heart thrummed so hard inside his chest, it was a miracle that she couldn’t hear it. She looked at him as if she were asking permission— permission to what, he hadn’t even the slightest clue. But in spite of the voices inside of his head telling him he shouldn’t, that he shouldn’t let her, that he was wrong for her, he did. How could he say no when she looked at him like that, as if he were the most beautiful thing she’d ever laid eyes upon?

 His silence gave her the confidence to let her fingers creep further down to the back of his hand, flipping it around until they rested against the heel of his palm. Slowly, she soothed the tips of her fingers up his palm until they fell between the cracks of his, letting her digits curl around his knuckles. Mike shuddered at the touch and let his own fingers press down against hers and he watched as she raised their intertwined hands to her mouth, their gazes molded together as she pressed her lips against his skin. His lips trembled as they fell open and he narrowed his eyes, clinging onto the last bit of restraint he had left. 

 “You can relax with me, Mike,” she whispered against his skin, pressing another soft kiss to the knuckle of his ring finger. “You don’t have to worry while I’m around.”

 Mike pressed his lips back together and fought back the urge to groan at her words, his eyes wandering from their hands, down her arm, to her chest where it pressed against the edge of the sofa. His breath shuddered when he exhaled and the rubber band stretched inside of him finally released and with it, the last of his restraint. 

 Fuck it, he thought. It’s been long enough.

 Mike tugged her closer by the hand and her lids widened, a squeal slipping from her lips, in which he was swift to eat right up, pressing his mouth against hers. With his hand not intertwined with hers, he gripped her hip, working his way up to her waist to squeeze. The sound she made was muffled inside their admittedly messy kiss and he pulled her even closer, her knees having nowhere to go but on the outside of his thighs. 

 Mike groaned and pulled away to catch his breath as her hips ground down against his, already feeling frustrated with the growing erection in his jeans. He blinked up at the woman on top of him, her arms thrown over his shoulders, her chest heaving as she chased air back into her lungs. She stared down at him with hazy irises, still bleary from lack of sleep. 

 “Sorry,” Mike finally managed to breathe out, his palms resting on either of her thighs. “Probably a little much, wasn’t it?”

 He watched as the corners of her lips curved into a grin and she chuckled breathlessly, shaking her head. “Not enough,” she tittered as she surged her lips back into his, one of her hands on his shoulders slithering their way into his mess of dark tendrils, fingers curling and tugging at his roots. He hissed inside her mouth and dug his fingernails into her skin, a whimper falling from her lips, allowing him to take control of the situation. 

 He pressed himself forward and reached for the end of her t-shirt and she briefly broke away to allow the fabric up and over her head, her own fingers already working at the buckle of his belt. Mike leaned forward to pepper kisses all across the tops of her breasts and she threw her head back as he took over in undoing his belt, ripping it from his loops and throwing open the button and zipper of his jeans. 

 She clambered off of him as he raised his hips to tug his pants and boxers down just enough to allow his erection to spring free of its restraints, feeling her stomach do a somersault at the sight as she stripped herself of her own shorts and panties. Mike fought the urge to wrap his hands around his cock as she reached behind her back to undo the clasps of her bra and time seemed to slow as the straps fell from her shoulders, the lave toppling to the floor altogether. 

 He swore he could feel his mouth water and never before this moment had he wanted something, or someone, more. He blinked up at her, following her gaze down to his lap and at his erection that stood tall, waiting for her, dripping with pre-cum. 

 Mike cocked an eyebrow, “you just gonna stand there or you gonna take it?” He asked, voice low and husky and fuck, she thought she’d drop dead right then and there. Still, this was a dangerous game they were playing. “What about Abby?” She whispered, glancing towards the hallway where Abby’s room was. “What if she wakes up?”

 Mike pressed his lips together and bucked his hips, raising a leg to softly give her calf a kick. “You can be quiet, right?” He murmured in question and she felt herself clench from his voice alone. Here Mike Schmidt was, cock out and erect, all because of her. This was something she had only dreamed of— never did she think that this would become reality. 

 Mike cocked his eyebrow again and she shook herself from her thoughts, taking his hand as he guided her back onto his lap. Her body shuddered and her bones rattled as she began to sink herself down, jolting when the tip brushed against her cunt, teeth sinking down into the plush of her bottom lip to contain her sounds. 

 “It’s okay,” Mike whispered. “I got you.”

 Her eyes about rolled in the back of her head at that as his hands kneaded at the flesh of either of her hips, guiding her further down his length, making sure to go agonizingly slow to ensure she felt every single fucking inch of cock inside of her. Tears brimmed the outskirts of her eyelids as she finally sat still on his lap, filled to the brim with cock. Mike let her head fall down against the curve of his shoulder, burying her nose into the crook of his neck as she allowed time to adjust to his size, simultaneously trying to keep her sounds to a minimum. 

 “You’re so tight,” Mike’s breath shuddered in her ear and his voice made goosebumps litter her skin, his fingertips like the icy breath of a ghost against her back. “You think you can handle moving now?” He asked in a whisper against the shell of her ear and she nodded, letting him grab her thighs and push her further up his cock until just the head remained. She cried against his neck when he sank her all the way back down his length, the lewd noise of their wet skin slapping together making her clench around him. “Fff… uuck,” he dragged his curse out as he snapped his hips up against her.

 “Shit!” She gasped as he thrusted again and again and again. And she let him. She let him use her in whatever way he pleased. 

 “Gonna be good for me?” He muttered next to her ear. “Gonna let me take care of you, hm?” She nodded, bobbing her head up and down against his shoulder as he snapped his hips up to hers again and again, daring the coil inside her belly to snap. “Think you can handle it?” He asked again and she nodded once more, crying and biting down on his collar. “Yes!” She cried, fortunately muffled against his skin. 

 So Mike thrusted again, harder and harder, chasing that high, that release he so desperately needed. He could tell she was close— it’d probably been so long since she’d been stuffed by cock like this. She’d probably been waiting for this moment just as long as he has. 

 With the pad of his thumb, he pressed down against her aching bud and Mike could feel a fresh new set of tears soak his skin as she cried, bucking her hips into his touch. His thrusts were as sloppy as they were powerful and she wasn’t sure how much more she could take. 

 “Mmm… Mike… I’m… I’m gonna…” she hardly managed to stutter out, slowly feeling the coil inside her stomach as it began to unravel. 

 “Yeah?” Mike said, his other hand wrapped around her neck and pushing her forehead down against his, gazing up at her closed eyelids. He rolled his head against hers, “look at me,” he breathed out and watched as she slowly fluttered her lids back open, just as more fat tears beaded down her cheeks. The sight was enough to get him to teeter on the edge himself. 

 “Gonna come?” He asked and she nodded, sweat-slicked forehead lolling against his. He nodded too, already feeling her release around him as she spawned around his cock, relying solely on him and his body to keep herself up. She buried her face in the crook of his neck again as she whined and cried, Mike’s thrusts speeding up as he gave himself that final push he needed to send himself reeling, spiraling and shaking with the force of his release. 

 “Fuck,” he growled into the skin just below her ear, squeezing his eyelids shut tighter as he willed himself to keep his sounds on the low, for the sake of his little sister sleeping just in the other room. 

 Silence fell over Mike and the babysitter for a good, long moment as they both recovered from their highs, chasing air back into their lungs as the realization of what they had just done began to sink in. Mike should be mortified— she was his sister’s babysitter, he doesn’t have time for this, she doesn’t deserve him, he shouldn't have done this. 

 But the woman in his lap settled herself closer into him, nuzzling her nose against the crook of his neck, her lips like a crescent moon against his skin as she placed a soft kiss to his flesh there. 

 “I hope you’re okay, Mike,” she whispered and he threw his head back, an arm thrown around her body as he stared up at the ceiling. How could he push her away now?

a/n; so yeah!!! i watched fnaf on friday and it kinda sorta just brought back my whole josh hutcherson phase so enjoy!! this was just a quick little something i wrote up and there's like no plot at all and not proofread LMAO

[mariahcarreyyy]

max making u wear a pendant with his initials/driver's number engraved around ur neck coz he likes to watch it swing when u ride him

# 📝 send a prompt and a driver for me to write a short blurb or scenerio ! nsfw 18+ below beware⬇️⬇️

mariahcarreyyy's 2k celebration announcement post

"Where's the necklace?"

Max's words had made you halt. He placed a gentle hand on your collarbone, pushing you gently from where you were mouthing at his neck and stroking his thumb where the gold of his initials should be.

With furrowed brows, you craned your neck down to follow his disheartened glare. The absence of the cool chain around your neck didn't seem quite as important as the growing need for max, max, max.

"Dunno," you mumbled dismissively, rolling your hips from where you were straddling his legs on the bed. "Ah—bathroom, 'think, t-took it off to shower."

Your boyfriend hummed sweetly before lightly tapping the side of your thigh. "Get it."

Barely forcing down a whimper, you bit your lip, tugging on the hem of his baggy shorts. "Max, please, just—"

A taunting, raised brow was enough to have you huffing and hauling yourself off of his lap. The walk from the bathroom and back to Max's arms, barely ten steps, made your eyes glassy and the pleasure stirring in your stomach boil.

You made the mistake of catching your reflection in the mirror: flushed cheeks, hair sprawled in various directions, and an evident pout etched onto your face. The necklace was expensive; you'd known that, but had Max really needed to stop you mid-foreplay to run and get it?

Judging by his cocky smirk and the fact that he'd fumbled out of his clothes in the ten seconds you'd left, you guessed so. Your eyes drifted down his body, past the sweaty abs, and onto his hand, lazily stroking his hard cock. You wanted it inside you, in your mouth—fuck, he was making it really hard to stay annoyed.

"Happy?" you grumbled, your facade slipping when Max swiftly pulled you into his lap, shivering slightly as he nearly ripped the shirt off of your body, the cold air hitting your nipples and Max's wet tongue trailing kisses down your neck.

Moans slip past your lips, and you slide a hand down to the angry, red tip of Max's length. You grin wildly when he groans, the vibrations rippling against your skin and shooting straight down to your core. "More than." He cups the swell of your ass with his massive palms and lifts you up to hover over his dick. "C'mon, shatje, make y'self feel good on m'cock."

And who were you to deny Max that?

The stretch of his cock burned like it always has, spikes of pleasure overcoming the momentary pain. Max's desperate moans mixed with yours, echoing across the room. After a few seconds, Max's palm impatiently striked at your ass, making you jolt and bite your lip to avoid the embarrassing sound that would have left your lips. "M-Max, oh, fuck."

You lifted your hips, almost slipping Max's slick-covered dick out of your wet pussy before dropping back down. Max's eyes were half-lidded, a hazy grin plastered on his face; he watched the gold swing recklessly, worrying his bottom lip at the fast pace you'd set.

Max rolled his hips upward to meet your movements, and the loud yelp that left your lips made you flush. "Fuckk, s'good, baby—ah, all mine, yeah? All. Fucking. Mine."

Punctuating each word with a sharp thrust, Max almost came when your wet pussy clenched around him. "All yours, m'all yours, Max."

That was what the initials on your collarbones stood for, didn't they?

authors note. i havent written in so long pls forgive me everyone

[roosterforme]

Wild Rooster Chase | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley thinks about you more than he should, and his feelings for you run deeper than they ought to. You've never given him an indication that you want to take the teasing touches and playful flirtation to the next level, so he never pressed his luck. When you surprise him by sending a text message that could change everything, he's ready to chase you all over San Diego for some answers.

Warnings: adult language, fluff, angst, drinking

Length: 5700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

"What are you ladies doing here?" Bradley asked as you walked in with Halo and Phoenix on either side of you. "Thought tonight was the bachelorette party?"

"The Hard Deck is our first stop of the evening," you informed him as you planted your palm on his chest with a smirk, and he let you push him away from the bar. "We couldn't miss out on letting you guys see how nicely we clean up."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, as if he wasn't actively ogling you in your mini dress and high heels. He'd never been one to hide it, and he'd never been one to check out the other two, either. But that didn't mean he was going to act on it, because he was absolutely convinced this was just a game for you. One that he loved participating in. One that he knew was never going to go anywhere real.

"Yeah," you verified with a laugh. "We look hot."

"An indisputable fact," he whispered as he pretended like you were actually pushing him further out of your way. He'd move wherever you wanted him to, as long as you just kept touching him.

"Shoo," you scolded, looking up at him as your knee bumped his leg. "I need to buy some drinks, and you're in my way."

He covered your hand with his big one and immediately stopped moving. "Nice try, Blaze," he said with a grin as you attempted and failed to get him to budge more. "But I'm definitely buying you all a round for Callie's big night." He tossed his credit card onto the bar and draped one arm around Halo and the other around you before leaning in close to you and whispering, "And you always look nice. Even in your flight suits."

"What can I get for you ladies? And Rooster?" Penny asked, cutting him off just as he had you rolling your eyes. "Wait... he's not going out for Halo's bachelorette night, is he?"

"Absolutely not," you told her, tilting your head to look up at him with a devilish grin that made him a little nervous. His arm was still heavy across your shoulders as you said, "He's just here to buy us three Johnnie Walkers. Blue Label. Neat." 

"What?" His voice was strangled, and his eyes were wide. "That's over a hundred bucks!"

"But it's what we want. Isn't it, ladies?" you asked Halo and Phoenix as you tried not to laugh.

"It is," Halo confirmed. "And I'm the one getting married next weekend." 

When Bradley moaned and nodded at Penny, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Rooster. You're the sweetest."

"You mean I'm a sucker," he said, finally releasing both of you. "So where are you headed after this?"

Halo accepted her expensive Scotch as she said, "Cowboy Star for a steak dinner."

Bradley snorted. "Don't forget to take Jake with you," he said, nodding to where the other guys were hanging out near the dart board. 

"No boys allowed," you reminded him. "Especially not since we're taking Halo to Cheetahs after dinner."

"Strippers?" he asked as you picked up your Johnnie Walker. "Looking at hot, naked chicks? Sounds fun. What else?"

"Dancing at Pleasure Town!" Phoenix said, taking the last Scotch and holding it up. You and Halo both tapped your glasses to hers.

"Thanks, Rooster!" you said before taking a sip. He just shook his head as you pressed your lips to the glass, but a few seconds later, he ran his index finger along your arm and leaned a little closer again.

"Hey, you call or text me if you need anything, okay? I'll keep my phone on all night for you girls."

A chill seemed to run through your body, and just the mere thought of you calling him in the middle of the night left his mouth dry with need.

You chewed on your lip and looked up at him. "I'll let you know if I need you."

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

I'll let you know if I need you.

Bradley couldn't stop thinking about that sentence. If you ever told him you needed or even wanted him for anything, he'd be there instantly. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that he'd had a crush on you from the first day you arrived at Top Gun. He was sure you knew it, too. But there were some things he just didn't want to mess with. Your call sign was Blaze for a reason, after all. Too fucking hot to handle. Too damn enticing to be interested in him.

So he did what he always did on Saturday nights. Found the second cutest girl at the bar and tried his luck. 

It was two hours later and three drinks in with the redhead, and he knew he could probably get as lucky as he wanted to. Her hand was on his thigh, inching closer to the hem of his tropical print shirt, and she was all smiles.

"Let's play something on the jukebox," she told him, and he agreed as he followed after her. To his dismay, she picked your favorite song, and now he was having a bit of a hard time staying focused on the task at hand as she tucked herself against the wall and pulled him closer by his shirt.

"You like this song?" he asked, glancing at the jukebox like he expected you to be standing there. 

She shrugged and said, "Not really. I just pushed some random buttons," with a little giggle. "Now, come here."

Alright, so her lips were soft, and her tongue tasted like bourbon. She placed his hands on her hips, and he gave a little test squeeze which resulted in her tongue in his mouth. But the song was pulling up some other memories of you and him dancing together on New Year's Eve. When he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, it was almost a relief to pull away.

"Hey," she complained, reaching for him as he unlocked his phone. "I'm over here, Rooster."

"Sorry," he muttered, looking at her briefly, but he really wasn't. The text he got was from you. He held up one finger and took a step back as he opened it up. 

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"What the fuck?" Bradley said out loud as his eyes scanned the message again. It was a joke. It had to be. Or else he was reading it wrong? "Holy shit."

When he finally looked up, the redhead was pouting with her arms crossed. He needed another opinion, and he'd already lost interest in her anyway. He held up his phone and asked, "What does this mean?"

He watched her eyes as she read it, and a little crease appeared on her forehead. "It says get a life, jerk." She went walking off toward her friends as Bradley looked around for someone else to help him out. The guys were all playing pool and darts, but he didn't trust them as far as he could throw them anyway.

"Hey, Penny," he called out, cutting off several people who were trying to order drinks. He leaned all the way across the bar top to where she was pouring a martini. "Tell me I'm not losing my mind."

When he held up his phone, she squinted at the screen, and then her eyes went wide as she smiled at him. "I think someone overdid it and finally stated the obvious."

He was sweating now, afraid he was going to get this all wrong. "Like you think this is actually how she feels?"

She laughed and handed off the martini before pouring some wine. "Well, I don't want to speculate on someone else's behalf..."

"Bartenders are supposed to speculate," he told her, ready to climb over the bar and chase her down as she turned away from him to serve the wine. "It's your god given obligation."

She glanced at him over her shoulder. "Well, then, merely speculating, I would say that the way the two of you cozy up with each other seems a little more than platonic."

He shook his head. "No, that's probably just me you're reading in the scenario." But she was shaking her head back and forth as well. "It's her, too?" Now she was nodding as she reached for a pint glass. "Like she might actually want to make something happen here?"

"Speculation," Penny told him. "But I think you should find out for sure."

He could call you. He pushed himself away from the bar, found a nice, quieter corner, and he tapped your number in his phone.

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, probably because I'm flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

"Damn it," he groaned, already thinking about how nice it would be to sling his arm around your shoulders and lean all the way in next time. Let his lips meet yours instead of hitting the brakes like he'd trained himself to do. "Wait!" he said to nobody in particular now that he'd walked away from Penny. "Cowboy Star!"

Bradley had the fortitude to keep his phone out and use the rideshare app he had downloaded. He was definitely not sober enough to do this in the Bronco, and he couldn't stop fantasizing about your song playing on the jukebox while he had your body pressed up against the wall. He needed to get to you and get some questions answered. 

He chose the closest driver in the app, and while he was waiting for Julian in his white Toyota Camry to arrive, he read your text again.

Blaze: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Is she so serious right now?" he asked the night air as he waited in the parking lot. "Is she so fucking serious about this? I think about it, too!  A lot!" he practically shouted as he responded to your text.

Blaze, call me back. Are you talking about a kiss on the cheek? Or something more? We need to discuss ASAP.

"Hey, are you Bradley?"

He looked up to see the white Toyota was just sitting there. You had his head so messed up at the moment, he hadn't even noticed it.

"Julian?"

"Yeah, man," the driver replied, and Bradley quickly climbed in the backseat. "You're heading to Cowboy Star?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he buckled his seatbelt.

"I love it there," he said as he pulled out onto the road that ran parallel to the beach. "My wife got me the porterhouse for my birthday."

Bradley stared at his phone screen, hoping you'd write back or call him. "I'm not actually going for dinner. I'm trying to find a girl."

Julian whistled and shook his head. "Man, you should have just stayed at that bar."

He tipped his head back and groaned. "It's a very specific girl. And she's out with some friends for a bachelorette party."

"You know dudes aren't really supposed to go to those things, right?"

Bradley rubbed his free hand across his face and said, "I know, but she sent me this text that is very thought provoking." 

"What's it say?"

He kind of felt like an idiot telling his story to his Uber driver, but he still wasn't sure he was understanding your words correctly. It just didn't make sense. 

"Julian, I am very firmly in the friend zone with this hot girl from work, and tonight she sent me this message: Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time."

"Bro," Julian said as he hit the accelerator a little harder. "You're so in, man."

"Am I?" Bradley asked, squeezing his phone and wondering why you weren't calling him back. "Like, this girl is smoking hot. She's cool as hell, too. And we flirt a bit, but it never goes anywhere. And now she's not answering me."

"Just hang on." Julian went a little faster still. "I'll get you there so you can sweep her off her feet."

Bradley hung onto the door handle, not even sure he knew how to sweep you off your feet. What kinds of guys did you usually go for? He'd be lying if he said he never noticed that your last boyfriend kind of looked like him. And in general, you seemed to have a thing for guys with brown hair who were pretty tall. 

"Shit," he grunted, just torturing himself by imagining he could be the one holding your hand and making you laugh. "Are we almost there?"

"Hell yeah, dude. Next block up."

When Julian stopped at to the curb, Bradley lunged out onto the sidewalk as he shouted, "Thank you!"

"Good luck!"

The restaurant was absolutely packed, and even the line to talk to the host was long. After a few seconds, he simply walked to the front and cut everyone else off.

"Hey!" complained the woman who was now behind him as he cleared his throat and addressed the host. 

"Excuse me, but do you know if there are still three hot women here eating dinner together?" he asked the host who gave him a bland look. "They were all in tight little dresses. One was red, one was blue, and one was like a gold color. And one of them was wearing a bachelorette sash!"

"Oh," he replied with a little smirk. "Those three." Bradley didn't appreciate the way his little grin grew as he said, "Hot is certainly the right word to describe them."

"Are they still here?" he asked impatiently, trying to look past him into the dining room now.

"No. They left about an hour ago."

"Fuck," he groaned, pushing away from the podium and storming back outside into the night. He found a spot on the busy sidewalk where he could stand, and he tried to call you again. 

'Hi, it's me. I can't answer my phone, because I'm probably flying a seventy million dollar aircraft at the moment. Leave a message.'

He wanted to scream, but he calmly said, "Blaze, it's Rooster. Call me back." When he hung up, he opened the rideshare app again, and he luckily saw Julian on the map immediately and tapped on his little icon. "Come on, Julian," he muttered, already looking down the street for the trusty Toyota to make its return. "Yes!"

Bradley threw himself into the backseat once again as the driver asked, "That was quick, bro. What happened?"

"They already left for the strip club," he groaned.

"Cheetahs?" Julian asked, tapping at his own phone before he started driving again. "Not gonna pretend I've never been there before."

Bradley tried to call you again, and once again he got to hear your voice tell him you weren't available. "I just don't understand why she's telling me this now, you know? I've known her for almost two years."

"Two years in the friend zone? Bro, do you have no game?"

"Julian, do not test me right now," Bradley said with a laugh. He held up his thumb and index finger and added, "I was this close to sealing the deal with another girl at the Hard Deck when I got the text from her."

"Ohhhh. So you're in love with her. Understood, my man."

Bradley sat back against the seat and stared out the window as the city lights streaked past. In love. Was he? You always seemed too perfect to get involved with. But love? Is that why he never pushed for more? 

"Damn," he muttered. "Maybe." Was the fear of crashing and burning what was ultimately holding him back? 

That was when Julian pulled a slick u-turn and coasted into the parking lot of Cheetahs which was advertising fully nude girls. He should have been concerned that suddenly the only girl he wanted to see that way was you. "Thanks, Julian," he said as he hopped out and slammed the door closed.

"You got this!"

Well at least Julian thought he could pull off something impossible tonight.

"Whoa, I'm going to need to see some ID." 

Bradley realized that his path was suddenly blocked by an absolutely massive bouncer with a bushy beard. 

"Come on," he complained, digging his wallet out of his back pocket. "I'm thirty-five."

"No ID, no entrance."

"Yeah, yeah. Understood," he said trying to get his driver's license free as one of the strippers walked outside for a break. He craned his neck to see through the open door as the loud music filtered out before the door closed.

"Hey, Cherry," the bouncer grunted, and Bradley looked down at the stripper who was leaning against the wall wearing a pink wig, the tiniest g-string and some pasties. 

She was looking at Bradley a little skeptically as she replied, "Hey, Murph." She kicked a rock out into the parking lot as she told Bradley, "You're getting here awfully late. All of the private rooms have been reserved for the rest of the night."

"I'm not here for that. I'm just looking for some girls," he replied, waiting patiently while Murph inspected his ID.

"Yeah," she said with a laugh. "We've got plenty of those. The hottest ones in San Diego, if you believe the neon sign above your head."

"No," he told her, really not in the mood to recount his story again. "I'm looking for some women I work with."

Now Cherry looked downright unconvinced as she asked, "Are you a stripper?"

Bradley accepted his driver's license back and gave Cherry a hesitant look. "Well, no, I'm not."

"Didn't think so," she muttered, and Bradley stopped in his tracks before he even reached for the door handle.

"Excuse me?" he asked, giving her a much more scathing look. "What's that supposed to mean? I'd be a fantastic stripper."

She shook her head and adjusted her tiny underwear. "You don't have the right build for it."

Bradley burst out into sardonic laughter. "Cherry, you must be joking," he said as he tucked his wallet away and flexed his biceps. "I could totally be a stripper."

"What song would you dance to?" she asked in an accusatory tone. 

"Sweet Emotion," he told her immediately. Yeah, he'd thought about it before, and yeah, he knew he'd absolutely kill it up on stage. But she just made a face in response. "What's wrong with my song?"

"Nothing, I guess, but there's no way you'd be raking in the tip money."

Bradley pointed across the parking lot to Hard D Boys, the male club that was associated with Cheetahs, and said, "Just for that, I'm coming back for their open auditions night, because you have no idea what you're talking about." She shrugged, and he shook his head. "I don't have time for this. Have you seen three hot women? A red dress, a blue dress and a gold dress? Like short dresses?" he asked, tapping his thigh with his hand to indicate that your dress left little to his imagination. "They are like around this tall?" he added, sticking his hand in the air around your height.

"Sorry, Mr. Sweet Emotion, but I only take note of the biggest tippers."

Bradley groaned and pushed the door open, and the music was so loud, it wasn't even worth trying to ask the bartenders if they'd seen you. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he walked around the cavernous club, trying to locate you three, but it was mostly men. And then he had the disturbing thought that maybe some guys tried to pick you up.

"Why are you doing this to me, Blaze?" he whispered to himself as he walked back through every corner he could find. He even asked a woman to check if you were in the ladies' restroom. He came up empty handed again. 

"God damn it," he said once he was back outside with Murph.

"To be fair," Murph said as he lit up a cigarette, "I think you'd make an okay stripper."

"Thank you for that," Bradley told him sincerely as he tapped his rideshare app again, but then he heard a horn honking and looked up. It was Julian, hanging out his car window. He'd waited for him. 

"She's not here?"

"No, Julian. She's not here!" he said as he rushed toward the Toyota and climbed in.

"Well, where are we going next?"

Bradley closed his eyes and thought about what Phoenix had said earlier at the Hard Deck. "Pleasure Town. They were going dancing at Pleasure Town."

"On it," Julian told him and shifted into drive.

It was after midnight now. Pleasure Town wasn't too far away, but he'd be lucky to even find you in there on the weekend. But if he did, you'd be dancing like crazy with the biggest smile on your face, pretending you liked the music they were playing while you thought about your own playlists instead. You'd be drinking some neon colored cocktail and trying to talk the girls into leaving to get cookies from that place that was open all night. You'd maybe even be checking your phone and finally, finally texting him back.

"Yeah, you're right, Julian."

"About what, my man?"

Bradley rubbed his hands over his face. "I'm in love with her."

Julian reached his arm back at a red light, and Bradley fist bumped him. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about! I could tell right away. Don't worry. We'll find her."

But it got harder to be hopeful the longer he was in the dance club. There was barely any room to walk around, and there were dozens of women in little dresses that looked like the one you were wearing, but none of them had your face or your smile. You weren't here. 

He stood on the dance floor and read your text one more time.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

He wanted to know what kissing you would feel like. Now that you opened his mind to something more, he'd never be able to stop thinking about it. But this time, he let himself finally focus on the word regret in your message.You'd regret what you said in the morning. He knew you; he knew you would never go for the idea sober. But he texted you one more time anyway.

Blaze, please call me when you get this. It doesn't matter what time it is. Just call.

When he walked back out into the cool, night air, Julian was right there at the curb waiting with a hopeful look on his face. "Bro, is she here?" When Bradley didn't respond, his face melted into sadness. "Or did she say the 'just friends' shit?"

"She's not here," he replied, once again climbing in the back of the now familiar car.

"We going somewhere else now? The pursuit continues?"

Bradley grimaced and said, "I think I should just throw in the towel and regroup. Can you take me back to the Hard Deck? I'm definitely sober enough to drive home now."

But even Julian sounded disappointed now. "Of course, dude. Anything you want."

"Thanks," Bradley grunted, watching as the city lights faded a bit as they got closer to the beach. When Julian parked near the Bronco, he said, "I appreciate all your help tonight."

He gave Bradley another fist bump. "You gotta start fresh tomorrow, man. And you can't leave me hanging, okay? I need a wedding invitation."

Bradley chuckled as he climbed out for the last time. "I'm about to leave you the biggest tip."

He tapped two hundred bucks into the app as Julian drove off shouting, "Good luck!"

With nothing else he could do right now, he climbed in the Bronco, cranked the engine and started to drive himself home for the night. He was tempted to swing by your place or at least try to call you one more time, but he decided to let you get some sleep before you started to regret your message. That way he'd have a little more time with this hopeful feeling in his chest.

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

There was pounding. There was so much pounding. Maybe someone turned the music up even louder at Cheetahs? Or were you at Pleasure Town now? "Make them turn it down," you moaned, trying to cover your ears. That's when you realized you were in your bed. At home. Someone was knocking on your front door.

"Wait," you croaked as loudly as you could, your ears still buzzing from the loud music all night long. The bachelorette evening had been highly successful. Halo had a great time. But now you were hungover and not in the mood to deal with anyone. 

As you climbed out of bed, you grabbed your phone from the nightstand to check the time. The battery was almost dead, and you had a bunch of missed texts and calls, but you couldn't even focus on that until the pounding ceased.

"Please stop," you whined, flinging your door open before you even checked to see who it was. When you saw him it felt like someone poured warm caramel sauce on your heart or shoved you hard into a wall made out of soft foam: he always made you feel good and gooey and squishy in the most heart pounding, confusing way. "Rooster."

When he moved slightly, he stopped blocking the sunlight behind him and you squinted your eyes and groaned as you took a step back. "Blaze," he said in that raspy as sin voice as he blessedly closed your front door behind him. "You have a hangover."

You nodded, but even that was too much. "What gave it away?" you asked him softly, still holding your phone.

He snorted. "Well, for starters, you're still wearing your dress from last night."

"Oh." You hadn't realized that as you looked down at yourself for confirmation. "We went pretty hard. I can't even remember much after you bought us the Johnnie Walker at the Hard Deck."

He remained quiet until you looked back up at his face. "You... remember texting me?" His tone was one you'd never heard before, and it took you a few seconds to realize he was nervous. On edge. Hesitant. He was never any of those things with you, and you didn't like this at all.

"I texted you?" When you lifted your phone higher, you started to wonder why he hadn't hugged you when you opened the door. He usually always did. He swallowed hard, and you watched the scars along his neck as his Adam's apple bobbed.

"You really don't remember?"

Now he just sounded really fucking sad, and for some reason your brain was screaming at you that there was something you were definitely supposed to recall from last night. Something about Bradley. You left him at the Hard Deck after he paid for the Scotch, and then you went to dinner and drank more while you thought about him the whole time. But there was definitely something else.

"No. I really don't remember," you whispered, annoyed with yourself. You felt like it was somehow your fault that his lips were pressed in a tight line and his brow was creased.

"It's not important," he replied, all businesslike now. "Can I see your phone for a minute?"

"Yeah," you told him, handing it over and watching while he punched in your passcode. "What did you end up doing all night?"

He sighed and looked at you. "I ended up following you around to no avail."

"Why?" you asked, still clearly missing a piece of this whole puzzle as he started tapping your phone screen with his thumb. 

"That's not important either," he whispered, and you decided you didn't like any of this. 

You snatched your phone out of his hand and wrapped your arms around his neck. Almost reluctantly, he hugged you back before reaching his hand up to where you were holding your phone, trying to get it again. "What do you want my phone for so badly?"

He was acting strange, and when he said nothing in response, you lunged out of his grasp and tapped on your text thread with him. 

"Blaze," he barked out, but it was too late. You read what you'd sent him last night.

Full disclosure, I'm drunk. And I'll probably regret this in the morning, but... I think about kissing you all the time.

"Oh my god!" you screeched. "I didn't delete that?! I hit send!" You couldn't even meet his eyes now as you tried to figure out how to get him to leave so you could cry in peace.

"Blaze, it's okay," he promised, but you knew it wasn't.

"You were going to delete that message. And the ones you sent to me after it," you accused. "Weren't you?" When he just stared at you silently, you realized he was trying to save you from being embarrassed, but it was way too late for that. He didn't want you. He was never going to want you.

"No hard feelings," he said softly. "Go ahead and delete it yourself. We can pretend this never happened."

"No hard feelings?" you practically wailed, afraid you were going to cry in front of him. "I just ruined everything. You were never supposed to know how I feel about you, Bradley."

As soon as you ducked your head away from him, his fingers were under your chin tipping your face up so you were looking him in his impossibly endearing brown eyes. "I need you to explain this to me. Okay?" He took your phone gently from your hand and held it up with the message displayed. "Please, Blaze. Did you mean it? Is that how you think about me?" When you nodded slightly, he readjusted his hand on your face so he was cupping your cheek instead. "Baby, I followed you everywhere last night. I called you and texted you and rode around in a white Toyota with Julian for hours on end."

"Who's Julian?" you ask softly as Bradley slid your phone into his jeans pocket.

"He's my new friend," he replied, which cleared up exactly nothing for you. "I went on this insane chase from Cowboy Star to Cheetahs to Pleasure Town just to try find out if there was even the slightest chance that you really meant what you said."

He closed the distance between your bodies as he stroked his thumb along your cheek. "It was supposed to be my little secret," you whispered. "I just typed it out to see how it would look. I read it in my head and imagined how you might take it. It was supposed to get deleted. You were never supposed to know."

"Is it really so bad that I do?"

His question hung in the air between you, and once again you nodded. "Yes, Bradley. Yes, because it's going to complicate everything now. Work, and our friends, and hanging out at the bar. It's all ruined. Because you'll never look at me the same way you used to."

"Blaze," he rasped. "Baby, I don't want to look at you the same way I used to. Like I was never going to measure up. Like I could never be what you wanted."

You gasped as your eyes went wide. "What are you saying?"

He groaned and pressed his lips to your forehead, and you melted against him. "I'm saying that I chased you all over the city last night hoping like hell that you meant what you said. And that you didn't regret it."

Your head was spinning, but not from the hangover as you thought about how it could feel to be with this man. "You want this?" you asked in awe as your hands eased up along his chest to slip around his neck again.

"Desperately. And if you think you want to see where it goes, we can take it slow, you know?" he asked, his brown eyes hopeful once again. "We don't have to rush into anything crazy."

But you knew you were already kind of crazy about him. You had been for a long time. So you whispered, "I think I could fall in love with you," and his lips came crashing to yours. You moaned into his mouth. His lips and his mustache were even better than all those times you'd imagined kissing him. His huge hands were bunching up the fabric of your dress at your hips. You wanted every part of your body to be touching him from now until forever.

This was how good it felt when you and he stopped pulling your punches. When you both stopped pumping the brakes. You raked your hands through his wavy hair, gasping for breath as you asked, "Did you really try to find me last night?"

"Of course," he promised as you kissed along his mustache and across his cheek. "It was enlightening. I learned a lot about myself. Hey, do you think I'd be a good stripper?"

"God, Rooster," you groaned just thinking about it. "You'd be an excellent stripper."

"I fucking knew it," he grunted, half guiding you and half carrying you to your bedroom. "Listen, we should cuddle right now, but I'm going to need you to come to Hard D Boys with me one night. I'm pretty sure it's just to prove a point, but you never know."

You really weren't positive what he was talking about now, but it didn't matter. His lips were on your neck, and his weight was pressing you down onto your bed, and he was saying the most wonderful thing.

"I know for sure I could fall in love with you."

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

He's such a simp, he would chase you anywhere. Imagine taking your brand new boyfriend to his stripper audition just because he has to prove a point. I mean, I wouldn't complain lol. Thanks for reading! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@furiousladyking

@godsfavoritebabe

@bethabear12

@halo-mystic

@sherlockstrangewolf

@theamuz

@khaylin27

[webism]

"and whenever you smile at me, i promise to smile back."

it was a stupid vow, but one you made to satoru at the altar regardless. he had tears in his blue eyes and his lips were quivering and in the moment you really meant it, but god can he be an asshole.

like when he's denying you an orgasm. and he has you on your back, legs parted and hips rocking up against his tongue as he makes out with your pussy like he's on death row. he knows you on a molecular level, every inching indicator of your coming orgasm, and as soon as you give yourself away he's pulling back and wiping his lips while you groan because this is the third time this week.

and when he looks down at you with those puppy dog eyes and flashes you the biggest grin he can manage, you want to flip him off and make him sleep on the couch. you nearly do.

"you made a vow to me, baby," he tsks. "cmon, let me see that pretty smile of yours."

you turn your lips up, just enough to hold true to your vow. "id smile more if you let me cum."

"wrong," satoru shrugs, "you look like this—" he parts his lips and rolls his eyes back dramatically "—when you cum."

"fuck you," you look away, but his hand is quick to shoot out and turn your gaze back onto him. he's pulling his hard cock from his sweats and tapping the tip against your clit a few times before sighing.

"i'm going to, bossy."

and he pushes into you with a sick pace that has you feeling each hard inch of him. you'll never get used to it, to the way he stretches you out and sends you dizzy with just his cock.

"you look dick drunk already," he grins, you shoot him a sarcastic smile in turn.

you grab his bulging bicep with your left hand, the ring on your finger cool against his warm skin. it makes his hips stutter, having you claimed by him in more than one way: with the heavy rock he put on your finger and with his aching cock deep inside of you.

you know what he's going to do, try and edge you again and again until you go stupid on his cock and finally beg. but the way he reacts to just your wedding ring alone gives you a sick idea. you're still hot from him eating you out—it won't take much to push you over the edge.

"my toru," you hum, and smile a little as you feel his pace increase. "how'd i end up with such a pretty husband?"

he shakes his head, white locks falling into his eyes. "stop, i know what you're—"

"marrying you was the best decision of my life, baby," you continue, and bring your ringed hand up to hold the side of his face. his hips buck into you a little faster, a little wilder. "but i want you to fuck me like you did on our wedding night. till i was nauseous with how deep you were inside me. really made me yours, huh baby?"

that's all it takes. he's cutting off your intake of breath with a kiss and sustaining you on his essence alone. his cock splits you open at depths you think shouldn't be possible, and with each mean thrust of his hips into yours the headboard hits the wall in rhythmic mirror of your lusts.

and satoru chides himself: he thought denying you would be fun, a cheeky way to rile you up and get you begging for just the tip if its all he'd gift you with. but he's your husband, your other half: you aren't whole without him and he's empty when not filling you. he fucks you hard and quick and mean but with so much love you'd swear it was your wedding night all over.

and when you finally think you're going to cum, satoru encourages you with quick circles over your clit and the sweetest of praise from his lips. he loves you, he loves everything about you, there's no stronger aphrodisiac than your pleasure.

you cum hard around his cock and milk an orgasm out of him in turn. he fills you, claims you as his all over, and moans symphonies as he does so. your chest heaves, breath lost on you, and when he smiles down at you you're barely seeing straight enough to smile back.

he leans down to kiss you, a hungry kiss. "gonna fuck you so dumb and see if you still remember making that vow, okay baby?"

[shotmrmiller]

kinktober: cockwarming (john price x reader x simon in underground fighter au)

You're no fan of real-time violence.

Movies can never replicate its visceral reality— the sharp metallic tang that clings to the air, mingled with salt and the bitter stench of the swill these local colors call beer. Even worse is having to be the one to patch Simon up with trembling, blood-slick fingers and your molars sunk into the thick of your tongue to keep your lunch where it belongs.

So when Simon sends you Price's way with a firm palm on your arse and his spit still warm on your lips, you're grateful. He'll keep ya busy.

You're not counting his blood money, if that's what he was thinking.

"Course not, love," Price says, the rings on his thick fingers glinting under the dim light overhead as he opens the door to his office. It smells of worn leather, polished wood, and layered on top is the heady aroma of tobacco, rich, unmistakable. (You will not stay if he lights one of those puppies up. You like your lungs how they are.)

"Tha's wha' the bill counter is for." You can feel the warmth of his palm seeping through your clothes— a steady presence at the base of your spine, guiding you forward with a subtle push.

You'd expected him to let you pluck a book off the well-stocked shelf that's been beckoning you since you laid eyes on it and curl up on his couch with a blanket draped over your shoulders. Maybe even chat you up with small talk, ask about your week, school/job, and how you were adjusting to this new life.

Not with his broad front curling around your back, breath warming the shell of your ear, while you stare at the smooth, raised skin on his knuckles— which is less furry than the rest of him— in hopes that you don't fall apart around the thick of his cock. He's got a hand flat on the desk, small finger slanting to the side probably from where it healed wrong, and the other's signing off paperwork you couldn't even try to understand with a clear mind, much less one that's spinning from the sheer want for friction, relief.

Your arse pulses hot from where he'd reprimanded you earlier for squirming too much.

"Quite obedient. Simon's taught ya well." He hisses when you tighten up involuntarily, indignation cutting through the sluggish heat you've been burning in at his remark. Obedient. Taught. As if you're some kind of lap dog, yipping and rolling over for a treat. (Or in this case, a cock.)

"Easy, love. Jus' a joke." The hand he'd had on the desk comes to squeeze at the meat of your ribs, a small gesture, before weaving down to your cunt, fingers spreading, feeling how well split you are around his length, lips spread wide. "I'd hate f'you to turn my own guard dog against me, eh?" His apology comes in jerky little circles, smearing slick over your neglected clit, coarse hair of your mons coated milky white.

Each stroke of his fingers only bows your spine, winding it like one would a key on the back of a doll, your muscles coiling with tension, bodily response not your own after being denied release for god knows how long.

The sharp tap on the door goes completely unnoticed by you, but not Price. His pace remains steady, continuous, as Simon walks in through the door with crimson peppered on his cream wifebeater.

"John." Through bleary eyes, you see Simon settle in the chair across from you both, legs long, knuckles angry red and swollen as he palms himself over his denim. "Gaz may or may not 'ave goaded Soap into a fight."

Price's hand stops abruptly, desperation clogging your throat, the coil beneath your navel cranked so tight you might just scream. His voice rattles you from behind. "And?"

Simon's got his jeans bunched to his knees now, cock resting heavy atop his thighs, quads' ridges shifting as he gets comfortable. He might just be a tad bigger than what you've got sitting snugly against the plug of your womb.

"They're tumblin' outside, among civil folk. I doubt gettin' 'em out will be as painless this time 'round."

Price snarls and you find yourself empty, straddling Simon's hips, your inner thighs burning at the width. "Bloody fuckin'—," the sound of his belt buckle peters off soon after he walks out the door.

Your hands can feel Simon's shoulders flexing as he runs a fist up his length, eyes heavy lidded and focused on the creamy slick dampening your curls. His cock sits long on your stomach.

"'ave a seat, then." Amusement curls his lip, usual pink scar on his lip stretched silver. Your knees don't reach the cushion he's on properly, so you place your feet right above his own for leverage, legs folded tight.

His fingers dimple your waist as you lower yourself onto him, breath rushing out of your lungs as he fills you, aching, burning, a stretch you'll never really get used to, the pinch deep in your core causing discomfort to clump your lashes together until you're flush against him.

"Sit real pretty now. Gotta wait f'r Price t'give me my earnin's."

You're gonna rip his ear off with your teeth if you don't get to come soon.

"Claws in," he mutters, thumbing your pebbled nipple through your shirt. "Won't be too long."

(It was too long but worth every bloody second in the end.)

[chrissturnsfav]

𝒹𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓊𝓅 | 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘰

you give chris a little fashion show to show him what you got at the mall, and it grows difficult for him to contain himself when you try on the lingerie you bought to wear for him.

ᰔᩚ smut, bf!chris, unprotected p in v (wrap it b4 you tap it), dom!chris, fingering, use of pet names, creampie, titty sucking

ᰔᩚ w.c. 2,623

chris is playing fortnite on his computer, his hands swiftly clacking against the joystick as his gaze is fixed only on the screen. his face is filled with anticipation and eagerness as he works with matt to win the game while wearing a headset on his head.

you enter his room carrying several shopping bags and grinning excitedly, interrupting his game. chris looks away momentarily, his once-determined visage softening as he sees you.

"hi baby, how was the mall?" he asks, his eyes darting from you to the screen while he keeps clicking the buttons on his controller at a fast pace.

your smile widens as you glance down at the large bags in your hands and then back up at him, "good, i got so much stuff," you speak with excitement in your voice.

chris scoffs, nodding while looking at his computer screen before looking at the bags in your hands, "yeah, i can tell."

you set the bags down on the floor next to his door, plopping down on the couch in his room while watching the game unfold on his screen.

chris turns around to look at you for a second, speaking with slight want, "why don't you give me a show or somethin', ma?"

you furrow your brows, giggling softly, "like a fashion show?"

chris nods, his eyes back on the screen as he kills an opposing player. he looks back at you again with a smirk, "yeah, wanna see you in those pretty clothes i paid for."

you pause to think, picturing the two sets of lingerie you purchased especially for him, and then a tiny smirk appears on your mouth and a suggestive thought occurs to you, "okay, yeah," you say nonchalantly.

chris' smirk softens, nodding as he licks his lips, "that's my girl."

you give him a soft laugh in awe, a small blush coating your cheeks at his words as you scoop up the bags, enter his bathroom, and shut the door.

as chris goes back to his game—his voice muffled on the other side of the door while he talks to matt on the discord call—you decide to save the lingerie for last and first try on a jumpsuit from aritzia you picked out.

you pull on the tight, jumpsuit. your tits slightly peek out at the top as you begin adjusting the tank top straps on your shoulders. admiring your appearance in the mirror, you boldly smile at your image. the jumpsuit defines your curves with its stretchy, black fabric, hugging your figure in all the right places.

you step out of the bathroom and chris immediately turns his head to look at you, raising his eyebrows and taking you in up and down. he smirks, licking his lips before his eyes land on your face and he speaks, "damn, that's real nice."

i smile sheepishly, spinning around in a circle before facing him again, "you like it?"

chris nods, the smirk still on his lips as his eyes dart from his computer screen to your face, fingers still clicking rapidly at the controller, "'course i do, i love it. looks good on you."

your smile grows and you nod, "good," you say softly before walking back into the bathroom to try on the next outfit you bought.

you try on the rest of the clothes you bought, chris loving each one more than the last each time you come out of the bathroom. he's already feeling himself getting excited in his pants over the thought that you used his credit card to buy all these clothes for yourself.

he loved making you happy, seeing you happy. though you had a slightly over the top shopping addiction, he didn't care. he'd let you reach his credit limit if you wanted, he just wanted to make you happy.

back in the bathroom, you smirk excitedly as you pull out one of the lingerie sets from the victoria's secret bag. it's a pretty baby pink two piece set. little white bows are embroidered into the lacy fabric, the bra pushing your tits up vulgarly along with a matching garter on your thigh. after you slip on the thong, you admire the innocent looking set in the mirror before turning to the door.

you creak open the bathroom door slightly, peeking your head out the crack, giggling while you look at chris.

chris turns his head, furrowing his brows as he looks at you, "what?"

you smirk before stepping out of the bathroom, taking a few steps towards him.

chris' face falls, his already hard dick beneath his sweatpants growing even harder as he takes in the set on your delicate body. his eyes slowly trail up and down your body, tilting his head to the side with a dangerous smirk, "you look fuckin'..."

your smirk on your lip grows, taking in chris' reaction, "what?"

"hold on, matt, one sec," chris says into his mic before muting it and sighing as he turns back around to look at you, his game chair swiveling with his motion.

"damn. you look sexy. sexy as fuck," he says hoarsely, desire slowly filling up his body and he can feel his member dripping with precum in his pants.

you scoff, the smirk still on your face as you lick your lips and speak suggestively, "i have another one you might like even more."

chris raises his brows, snickering, "lemme see it, ma."

you nod, walking back into the bathroom and closing the door. chris can't help but notice the way your fleshy ass jiggles as you move, grunting under his breath at the sight before he snickers and turns back to the game to unmute his mic, "my bad," he says nonchalantly to matt.

in the bathroom, you change out of the set, putting it back into the bag before pulling out the other one. you laugh quietly as you hold it up in your hands, noticing that this one is slightly more revealing.

when you put it on, you admire your reflection in the mirror confidently. this one is a lacy white set, small see through designs laced into the bra that ties in the middle, creating a sexy touch. the thong ties along your waist in an innocent looking bow in the middle. they are also embroidered with see through designs, the fabric that covers your center is see through with tiny white hearts.

to make it even better, it even comes with a sexy, matching garter belt, see through white lacy stockings up to your knees and tiny bows embroidered into the material of the garter and stockings.

you know chris is going to go absolutely feral.

when you wordlessly step out of the bathroom, a confident look displayed on your face, chris whips his head around, his breath hitching in his throat when he sees you. his cock becomes impossibly harder, making a very obvious tent in his pants. his eyes trail slowly all over your barely covered up figure and he bites his lip when he sees the see through fabric on your core.

"so. what do you think?" you ask, purposely giving him a really slow 360 spin, your ass jiggling ever so slightly when you move and chris bites back a growl.

chris scoffs when you face him again, licking his lips with lust filling his eyes. he smirks at you, turning around to speak to matt through his mic, "yo, matt, i'm not feelin' great right now, gonna play later," he says nonchalantly. he doesn't even give poor matt a chance to respond before he disconnects the call and turns off his computer.

chris stands up, his gaze fixated on your poorly covered tits spilling out of the beautiful bra as he slowly treads towards you. you can already feeling yourself filling with desire, your cunt growing wet with every second.

he stands in front of you with his face inches away from yours. he looks down at you with a wicked smirk on his face, your lips parted and eyes lustful as you look up at him and anticipate his actions.

"seems like you really know what i like, huh?" he asks hoarsely, the lust evident in his voice.

you smirk up at him, nodding, "mhmm," you hum.

chris' smirk deepens while he speaks in a voice just above a whisper, "mhm, 'n i'm gonna show you how much i love this on ya."

chris gives you no time to respond, pushing you onto his bed and hovering over you, his hands on your waist causing your breath to hitch and body flow with desire and lust.

he begins peppering slow, sloppy kisses on your neck, lightly nipping at the skin that makes your eyes flutter shut and lips part, fingers toying with his hair.

"gonna make ya feel so good..." he mumbles against your skin, sending a vibration through your needy body, "look so pretty, baby...so perfect."

chris pulls the string on the tie on your bra, his fingers moving behind you to unclip it and toss it somewhere on his bed, licking his lips at your perfect tits and immediately kissing them.

you let out a breathy whimper, your hands tangled in the brunette locks in the back of his head as he swirls his tongue around your hard nipple, his other hand squeezing your free tit roughly.

"chris..." you mumble softly, need evident in your voice making him chuckle against you, "got such pretty tits, mama, so perky 'n shit."

chris moves his lips down just below your boob, leaving tiny hickies and bruises in your skin and he kitty licks them gently, easing the light sting.

he bites his lip and plays with the cloth teasingly as soon as he reaches the garter on your waist, "'n this little thing y'got on, tsk..." he starts, scoffing between words, "makin' me go crazy..." he mutters, pulling it off your body.

chris' fingers slowly run over your needy core, laughing darkly at how sopping wet you are, "look at you...love when y'get so wet f'me...always so fast." his words and slight touch make you shiver, letting out a whimper of desire.

he pulls your sheer thong to the side, revealing your glistening center and bites his lip at the sight. he runs his thumb through your achy folds, humming in amusement at your reaction, "hmmm, so sensitive."

chris begins rubbing painfully slow circles on your puffy clit and you arch your back in response, letting out a sharp gasp while your eyes immediately roll back.

chris watches you intently with a soft smirk, pushing his middle finger in you with ease while still rubbing slow patterns on your bundle of nerves.

you whine at how slow he's going, letting out a shaky exhale, "chris, please...f-faster..."

chris snickers and doesn't quicken his pace, his finger continuing to slowly pump in and out of you as he leans close to your face, "nah, want you to cum on my dick, not my fingers, baby," he whispers hoarsely in your ear.

he pulls away, pulling his fingers out of you with a wet squelch and you look up at him, watching as he sucks your arousal off his fingers with a soft hum, "tastes so pretty," he purrs.

he leans close to your face again, a hand on your tit and the other fiddling with the button of his jeans as he presses his lips against yours, slickly slipping his tongue in your mouth.

your hands tangle in his hair, tongues massaging each other and you let out a small moan into his mouth when you taste your slick on his tongue.

he snickers against your lips as he unzips his zipper and pulls away, pulling his jeans and boxers down to rest just below his hips, his hard cock leaking with precum springing up.

he positions himself over you, palms pressed against his sheets on either side of your face as he looks down at his dick, slowly pushing it into you and grunting lowly, "fuuck..."

his action makes your back arch, your eyes roll back, and your brows furrow while letting out a moan of pleasure and relief.

he picks up a fast pace quickly, swinging one of your thighs over his shoulder to allow you to feel him deeper. you let out a heavy squeak, "o-oh! chris..."

chris hums in pleasure, panting slowly as he moves quickly in and out with you, lewd, wet sounds along with your moans sounding like music to his ears, "yeeeah, look at you...look so pretty all fucked out on my cock," he grunts darkly, staring down at you through half lidded eyes.

you begin panting loudly, your eyes squeezed shut as you let out lewd noises that chris loves, your hands around his neck stroking the hair behind his head. you feel so full, so aroused by him.

chris moves one of his hands to your bouncing tit, squeezing at the flesh and occasionally pinching your nipple. your fucked out face is pushing him closer to the edge, deep, small groans leaving his lips as he relishes in the sensation your sweet pussy gives him.

your walls begin clenching around him as you get closer, "mm, yeah, pussy feels so good, squeezin' me so tight like that," he groans quietly. "so close already, aren't you?"

you continue panting quickly, hands gripping his hair tightly as your head throws itself back, "m-mhm...f-feels s-so...so deep, chris," you mewl softly.

chris smirks at you, moving faster and deeper into you. one of his hands moves to your stomach as he watches his bulge move in and out of you while pressing down on it, "yeah? feel me right here?" he purrs in a low grunt.

you nod your head, your thighs beginning to shake at the immense pleasure he's giving you, face all fucked out for him, "y-yeah...yeah," you whimper.

"mhm, tell me how good 'm makin' you feel, ma," he growls hoarsely, moving a hand to grip your thigh on his shoulder while it shakes, holding you steady, "wanna hear ya say it."

"s-so good! you...y-you feel s-so good," you breathe out shakily following by a squeaky moan, "i-i'm so...so close..."

chris smirks down at you, moving his hand from your stomach to your hip to keep your almost trembling body stable, "atta girl, yeah? gonna make a mess, baby?"

you nod and before you can get words out, you're sharply gasping. the pressure in your tummy erupts, causing you to throw your head back into his pillows while your face contorts. your cum milks chris' dick deep inside you while you yelp out, "u-uh! ooohhh, chris!"

chris snickers at your climax, fucking you through it as he speaks hoarsely, "there ya go, there it is. love when y'make those pretty sounds f'me."

you pant quickly, chris' thrusts growing more messy and uncoordinated while he grunts and his fingers dig into your skin. you know he's close by the marks his nails leave in your skin.

"fuuuck, you're gonna make me cum," he grunts followed by his eyes rolling back. he gives you one last thrust before he curses under his breath, twitching inside you and painting your walls white with his cum.

chris pulls out of you while panting, you stare up at him with lazy eyes, breathing deeply as he watches his seed drip out of you and he smirks, using a finger to push it back into you, "fuckin' take that shit," he breathes out.

he pulls his finger back out, looking down at you with a now softened smirk, "you okay, mama?"

you nod with a lazy smile, catching your breath, "mhm, i'm okay. you were perfect."

chris smiles gently, leaning down and leaving a soft peck on your lips, "just couldn't help myself, that outfit was too gorgeous."

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: i had so much fun writing this this was also inspired by something i saw on tiktok, it was chris on stream and it said something like "pov: you're giving chris a fashion show while on stream." also i hope the way i explained how the lingerie looks wasn't too confusing :/

thank you for reading!! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™