#athletic fit dress pants

[yuujispinkhair]

Attending a formal family event with Sukuna

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff with some sexual implications. 1.3k words. Minors don't interact. Divider @/plutism

You didn't want to go to your great-aunt's 80th birthday party, where you only know about a third of the people, but they all seem to know you, and you are expected to do awkward small talk. But you couldn't back out, and now you are here in this fancy hotel, wearing a party dress and uncomfortable shoes with heels that make you feel wobbly on your feet.

But luckily, Sukuna is next to you, letting you hold onto his strong arm so you won't make a fool of yourself by falling in front of everyone. When you think about it, it was very easy to convince your boyfriend to accompany you. You even got the impression that he was happy that you wanted to bring him along to such a big family event, letting even the most distant family member know that Sukuna is the man in your life.

And surely, everyone knows by now. Sukuna has all eyes on him. He stands out with his imposing figure, the pink hair, and the face tattoos and various piercings. You can see the curious glances he gets, but Sukuna is someone who doesn't give a fuck, and instead even basks in the attention he gets, always grinning smugly at everyone who looks his way. And he never lets go of you, making sure everyone knows who he is here with.

It makes you feel strangely proud, too. You won't say it so as not to feed your boyfriend's arrogance even more, but you are beginning to enjoy the looks Sukuna receives. It feels good to show him off as your boyfriend. He looks sinfully good in his black pants and the black dress shirt that sits so snugly on his athletic figure, accentuating his broad shoulders and all the firm muscles.

But it's not just that Sukuna is sexy eye candy on your arm. You are grateful he is by your side because you feel much more at ease with him keeping you company. As boring and awkward as events like these can be, Sukuna is making it better, just like he always makes everything better.

He stands behind you close enough so you feel his tall, firm body brush against you, giving you comfort and security. And providing constant entertainment.

Sukuna leans down to rest his chin on top of your head, hugging you loosely and watching the crowd with his cat-like eyes, analyzing everyone in this room and sharing his deductions with you in his sexy, low voice the whole time.

You laugh and sometimes exclaim in mock outrage, but you find Sukuna's comments very fitting and funny. Your boyfriend is always a first-class shit-talker, and at least the hours pass faster when he is here to make you laugh with his surprisingly accurate character studies of each and every family member.

You catch yourself leaning against Sukuna, resting more of your weight on him, knowing he can easily take it. And he hums approvingly.

One strong arm is wrapped around your waist, Sukuna's large hand sprawling casually and yet possessively over your stomach, high enough so he can feel your heart beating under his fingers. A heart that is currently picking up speed because you can feel Sukuna's firm muscles press against your back, and his breath is ghosting over your neck before he places a soft kiss right under your earlobe.

The band starts to play, and all the older couples gather on the dance floor and wave at you to join them. You shake your head apologetically, but Sukuna takes your hand firmly in his and tugs you along, making you complain all the way to the dancefloor, telling Sukuna that you can't dance, but he just laughs and grins that boyish grin at you,

"Doesn't matter what you can or can't do, princess. I'll take the lead, so don't worry."

Sukuna spins you around the dance floor amidst the elderly couples as if he is doing this for a living. You stare at him with big eyes, while Sukuna smirks smugly and informs you that his grandpa taught him and Yuuji how to dance because he said a man needs to know how to take his girl dancing.

You realize you have already relaxed in Sukuna's arms, letting him take control and trusting him blindly to keep you upright. You see several nods of approval from the couples around you as you dance past them - or rather, your boyfriend steers you past them.

"I think you are winning their hearts, baby."

"Of course I am."

After a few more songs, Sukuna leads you back to your table, and you lean into his side and whisper a thank you to him, not even knowing what you tank him for right now. For dancing with you, or for making an effort to get your family to like him, or just for being here with you.

Sukuna answers it with one of his rare dazzling smiles and a whispered, "I love you," which you return with an equally whispered, "I love you, too," and a soft smile.

Your great-aunt pulls you to the side later and tells you that your boyfriend is such a handsome young man. She doesn't really like the face tattoos, but oh, it doesn't matter, right? If that is what young people do nowadays, and he looks good with them and is so handsome and so tall! Such a charming young man!

"Does he make you happy?"

You nod and beam at your great-aunt, unable to stop smiling from ear to ear,

"Yes, he does. He makes me very happy."

And she gets that cheeky expression on her face and nods knowingly,

"Oh, I bet that goes for every aspect of your relationship, huh?"

She winks at you, leaving no doubt about what she is implying. And you feel your face heat up, stuttering nervously and trying to laugh it off while your great-aunt pats your arm and tells you,

"Make sure to keep him, honey. A handsome, tall man who makes you happy and looks like he can protect you is always a good choice!"

You walk back to Sukuna, who is leaning casually against the wall with his hands shoved into the pocket of his suit pants. There's a shit-eating grin on his beautiful face, and you roll your eyes as you stop in front of him and tilt your head to look up at your boyfriend's face.

"What did your aunt say about me, princess?"

"Basically that you are very handsome and that she thinks you are good in bed."

The smug smirk on Sukuna's face grows even bigger, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer to him, making you sway a bit on your heels, so you stumble against him and end up bracing yourself with both hands on Sukuna's chest. He sounds far too conceited when he says,

"Well, she is right. Wouldn't you agree?"

Sukuna cocks his head, waiting for your confirmation, and you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, getting on your tiptoes with a matching teasing grin on your face. You slowly lean closer to Sukuna's tattooed face, pressing a little kiss on his cheek before you look deeply into his amused maroon eyes,

"I don't know, baby. Maybe I need a little reminder."

And Sukuna laughs softly,

"Oh, don't worry. I'll refresh your memory all night. And I promise to be very thorough."

His tongue flicks out to lick over your lips teasingly before it pushes into your mouth, and Sukuna kisses you deeply while his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you even closer to his tall, muscular body.

Maybe that 80th birthday party wasn't so bad after all.

I AM SIGHING SO LOUD 😭😭💗💗 I have no idea why I thought of this scenario, but it wouldn't leave my mind anymore, so I HAD to write it. The thought of bad boy Sukuna being able to charm your family into liking him makes me very soft for him :((

I hope you enjoyed it!! Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs and comments would be very sweet 💗

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon/dubcon, yandere, captive reader, dehumanization, dollification, patronization, condescension

♡ FEM reader

This is his playroom. It’s got puzzle-piece foam flooring and is filled to the brim with all sorts of different toys—including you. He’s got stuffed animals, pretty dolls, toy soldiers, Lego builds, and a gaming station with all types of fun—and parental safety restrictions, of course, no talking to strangers for you. Your controller is a pretty baby pink, and his a cool camo-green. But today, they’re left on the floor, untouched.

Because today, he only wants to play with you.

“You’re gonna be so pretty…” His voice is as grating as always—synthetically childish, making you grit your teeth. Sitting with you between his legs before the mirror, working diligently.

You look at the floor to avoid your reflection.

He’d gotten you a brand new baby-blue dress and painted you himself—done your eyelids up in matching clear skies, black lashes moth-like and fluttery, cheeks a rosy pink, and lips a sheer gloss extra plump and pretty—no need for tint—you bite them so cutely, they’re already his favorite color. Your hair’s done up in curls and ringlets, so bouncy and soft, beribboned with plentiful white bows.

“This color suits you so well. Makes you look like a cake-topper. Bite-sized. I could eat you right up.” He hums behind you, fiddling with the many intricacies, doing them up perfectly—no rush.

Looking up, the person staring back at you looks no different from a life-sized porcelain doll. Pristine, mint condition, fit to be put behind glass. In your frilly dress, petticoat and stockings. Just like Alice down the rabbit hole.

The only thing that betrays the illusion is the leather collar on your throat and the chain running from it to the middle of the floor. But no matter.

He’s got a giddy smile on his face— chest swelled with pride at his work. You’re his most prized possession. You really are! There isn’t a single toy in this room that can compete with you.

He’s not wearing anything special to match. Bedhead, undressed, still in his pajama pants. Why wouldn’t he be? This is his playroom, after all—his downtime—where he can be a boy with his toy. Though, calling him a boy isn’t exactly right—what with him being nearly in his thirties. Not to mention that he’s about two heads taller than you, with abs like an athlete, toned and chiseled and hard to the touch, hard enough to strain your wrists when he bears down on you. Oh, and that thing in his pants.

You bite your tongue and steal yourself. It would be easy to cry, but he only gets weirder about it then. So you stifle it, even though you look so stupid you want to act like an animal. Tear the dress to shreds and rub your makeup into a mess—scream, bite, spit on him. You’d done all that once before to no avail other than punishments that still keep you up at night. Once was enough. He didn’t play nice with you.

But then again, when does he ever?

“Hmm, think I’m done…” he announces after having dallied with the lace of your corset for a quarter-hour—it’s so tight you have to appreciate every breath. “Time to have some fun.”

He treats you no different from a doll either. Scooping you up into his arms like an inanimate object and carrying off to the princess bed—the one that looks like a girl’s birthday cake with a veil on top, and mountains of pillows all too soft.

He places you down on top of the duvet and it seems to swallow you like an ocean. He dives after, covering you like a fishnet. You take a final breath before he can drown, your hand on his chest, holding him at a distance.

“I was thinking, uhm…” you start, the words coming out odd, barely recognizable as your voice—only noticing now how long it had been since you’d spoken last. “I was…” you restart, but it’s still no easier. His eyes are large and unblinking, staring down at you as though he’s just as surprised as you are to found out you speak. “Hoping we could play… a little differently this time?”

He blinks at the request, having fallen completely still above you.

“Really? How?” The suddenness of his words make you flinch. You don’t know what you had expected—maybe a smile and something dismissive. It had been a while since he’d spoken directly to you like that—and not to himself in absentminded comments about you.

You recover some time, seeing him stare down at you all expectantly in wait. He follows when you guide him into sitting instead of looming over you, putting yourself in his lap—straddling him. “Mh, like this. Maybe?”

It’s a gamble. He’d never had you on top before, nor ever shown an interest in it. Setting aside the time you’d been sprawled on your belly over his thighs, his hand riddled in your hair and his other hand branding your ass with his very own toy company logo.

His expression is unreadable—perhaps a little confused if you were to take a guess.

“Oh!” he erupts with a smile you hope is the good sort. “You mean I play the toy and you the master?” He laughs brightly, falling on his back with a hand over his face, cackling through his fingers as though it were the most absurd proposal he’d ever heard.

But despite his obvious amusement, you still feel it—his toy poking into you from beneath.

He settles after a moment. “Alright then, why not?” Looking up at you—his hair a tousled mess splayed upon the bed, eyes as gleeful as the quirk on his lips. “Who knows… it could be fun.”

He props his arms behind his head, lounging comfortably.

“I did call you a cake-topper, after all,” he snickers. “I’ll lie perfectly still, like a good toy, while you play with me. Sound good?”

You can’t believe how open he was to it. Still a little apprehensive, you nod your head.

And then the game begins…

He doesn’t exactly stay true to his word. But you suppose that would be too much to ask. His head still rests pretty on the pillow with his eyes closed, smiling in satisfaction—for now, sated with your performance. Groaning in absentminded bliss, “You’re right. This is fun~”

But he hadn’t stayed perfectly still like he’d said. He’d reached out when you’d finally begun riding and now his arms keep you snug against his chest, fine-pressed sweaty skin against your frilly bust, more in a lock than a hug. It makes it kind of difficult to do what he wants, but you try your best—knees and toes planted in the mattress for stability as you jerk your hips on his lap. It’s awkward, but riding him like this is still better than the alternative, after all.

You keep your arms around the back of his neck, resting your face in the cradle it creates beneath his chin, panting lowly—eyes closed in focus away from the pain, brows tight with your tongue between your teeth, trying to maintain the rhythm despite the blossoming ache that’s started to spread from your hips down your thighs—another ill sting in the small of your back crawling up your spine. It’s hard staying bent over like this, and your movements are turning sluggish…

There’s a sigh from above you, pitchy and just awful. “Aww, is it really time already?” he whines—previous satisfaction dwindling—bordering on something else entirely now, the opposite and so much worse—boredom with a hint of disappointment—a spoiled child with a toy that’s run out of battery.

You shake your head, burying your face in his neck and tightening your grip, stealing yourself with newfound strength to maintain the tempo you had before while muffling out a desperate, “No, I can keep going—”

He lets out another sound, this time in thought. “Hmm...” It doesn’t give you much confidence—how lax a sound it is—as if he isn’t even close to being spent yet. “I don’t know… You’re so slow. I’m gonna get soft if this is all you got, y’know?”

He starts moving—sitting up. He takes his own hold on your hips, and you know what that means. And you can’t handle being played with, not when he damn near breaks you each and evert time.

“No, wait! I can keep going, please, just a little longer?” you insist, both palms pushed flat on his chest with your round eyes looking at him hopelessly in plead for a second chance—even though you know he isn’t one with the patience to give you one.

He stares blankly back, big-eyed in surprise at your outburst. Though still not convinced it would be worth humoring you. If he was being honest, he’d enjoyed it more than he thought he would but had now had his fill and wanted to take charge as usual and finish the job. However…

Oh, you’re being so uncharacteristically cute today—and that pathetic look of desperation on your face is truly something else…

He smiles deceptively softly, so brightly it reaches his eyes. He very nearly looks innocent like that, but you know him too well—so well that the sight of his lips curling gives you nothing but a churning stomach.

“Okay then, doll. You convinced me.”

Suppose it doesn’t hurt letting you have your way sometimes. You have been on very good behavior lately, after all. He ought to reward you.

“I’ll be your toy a little longer.” He murmurs with a lazy smirk, nose-kissing you—patronizing, as though he’s doing you a big favor.

It doesn’t grant you any peace, and neither does the way he keeps his hold on your hips, rubbing smooth circles into the fat leisurely, letting you know he wouldn't be removing them—it serves as some type of encouragement as you start moving again.

It’s easier now when you’re upright. Holding his shoulders, you can jump rather than buck—up and down, up and down, up and down—it’s simple enough. Or it was for a moment, at least, before he planted your hips down.

“Not like that,” he shakes his head softly. “Like this.” He moves you after his will, wanting you to grind instead—putting you back in square one.

Your movement staggers, and you mask a wince with a moan—fuck, your muscles are so sore, maintaining this movement is enough to make your loins scream, feeling all but set on fire.

With one hand keeping you seated, the other takes hold of your leash and pulls you in close, his lips on the dew of your rouge-dusted cheek—you feel the grin, and like prey threatened by a hunter’s teeth, you shiver in respect of it. “Come on, dolly, ride or die, faster,” he simpers, voice laced with mockery and amusement.

Your thighs are shaking now, tightened up in anguish, begging for a break—soon to take it without your permission. How much you can take reaches a point, and everything goes slack not a second too soon.

“And now you’re done,” he snickers hotly under his breath, planting a kiss on the side of your glossy lips while you exhaustedly and gingerly take your break with a feeling of defeat. He speaks low, and you dread every eerie lick of his words, “My turn to play.”

You want to protest, but you know it’s no use. He’d made up his mind now, and challenging it any further would only turn you into a nuisance—toys are supposed to enjoy being played with, after all—best take it with grace and shut up before he reminds you.

He flips the both of you around with ease, reclaiming his spot—on top. He loves you like this, splayed out beneath him like a puppet—just waiting to have all your strings pulled.

It was good while it lasted, you think—maybe if you get better, you can make him finish and not have to endure what comes next.

“Don’t pout, dolly—that was fun,” he kisses you lips as they start to tremble. “But you suit being my toy so much better.”

♡ BNHA – Deku, Denki, Mirio ♡ JJK – Mahito, Gojo ♡ HQ – Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Nagi, Bachira

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[sierrale8ne]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

nsfw // car sex, exhibitionism, p calls the reader ‘miss’ a few times, dom!paige, sub!reader, thigh riding.

save a horse ride a cowgirl ;) happy halloween 👻

everybody say thank you @patscorner for the inspo!

Going out to a block party for Halloween was honestly not where you expected to be, but it was way more fun than expected.

They UConn girls had dragged you out, your girlfriend dropping a costume on your bed and telling you to get dressed. So you did both. Fitting on the frilly white dress and pink corset that made up your Bo Beep costume.

You and your closest friends had been there for some time, Paige and her teammates being late as per usual. But as soon as you saw her tall frame, teammates by her side, it didn’t take much for you to walk up and drag her away from the other athletes.

It was cold in Connecticut this type of year, but you sucked it up just to get a look at your girlfriends face when she saw yoi with your hair done up and makeup done, the stockings on your legs and lace garters inching up your thighs.

“You tryna kill me?” Paige asked, eyes taking in your body like you were a piece of meat.

“Hi, Woody.” You teased, hooking your white staff around her arm as you take a step towards her.

Paige’s jeans hung low, yellow and red flannel cut raggedly to show off her abdomen in true Paige fashion. She looked gorgeous. Blonde hair freshly touched up and flowing in the wind under her cowboy hat.

She reached to hold your waist, licking her lips. “You gotta start trustin’ me more. This was a wonderful costume idea.” She says, tooting her own horn a tad too much.

“Maybe. You look sexy in this, cowgirl.” You tell her. “You wanna come with me for a second?” You ask with a tilt of your head. When she looks in that direction to see your car parked a block away, Paige is instantly intrigued.

“You promise to make it worth my while, miss?” Her voice is so sultry, pulling you into her as if she herself could intoxicate you.

The nod and bite of your bottom lip is all she needed to allow you to grab her hand, dragging her toward the secluded parking space where your Chevy sat soundly. She let out a low whistle as you walked, the fat of your ass peaking out from the bottom of your short dress.

By the time you reach the car, she’s opening the backdoor, taking a seat with her legs still out of the car. Her body is bent over towards you, your legs looking absolutely magicals she just had to reach for them.

When Paige finally looks up at you, you get a glimpse of the toothpick just hanging from her lip.

“You’re too into this costume, baby.” You giggle, taking a step towards her.

Your left leg fits snuggly between her legs, the other pressing perfectly against the side of her muscular thigh. She leans back ever so slightly when your hands meet her shoulders. Paige’s head tilts back to look at you, biting her bottom lip as her hand trails to situate her comfortably on her thigh.

“You’re not?”

“Mmm, I didn’t say that. I’m very into this costume.”

Paige flicked the toothpick from between her lips, the small piece of wood biting the asphalt below. “You know the saying? Save a horse, ride a cowboy, or whatever?” She asked.

“What about it?” Your eyes go low as you take her all in, the scent of her perfume combined with her utter sexiness was an unreal combination and you were just a girl.

She grabbed hold of your hips, then, changing her mind and reaching under your dress with her hand, the door of your car still opened.

Her fingertips met your core, wet and warm off of less than five minutes with her. Paige pulls the material to the side, tsk-ing at the material. Red and lacy, like you were planning on getting the blonde in your pants before you had put your costume on.

“Think you should show me how you ride me, miss.”

Your leg rests on the leather of your car seats, your white cowboy boots enough to make Paige fall out. Your other leg moves as well, just enough to force your knee onto Paige’s core. Enough to make her body tremble, but not enough to do anything; you were a tease, she’d make you pay for it at home later.

The blonde grabs onto your hips, pulling you down on her strong, jean clad muscle. You gasp, her jeans rough on your cunt.

You’re giving her a show. The way your head tosses back makes her want to sink her teeth into your neck like a vampire. Claw you up and mark you like she was a werewolf. She wanted to fuck you till you were screaming and crying bloody murder, whether it was in the comfort of the bedroom or right here with your door wide open.

It felt good, too good. Your clit running back and forth, coupled with the way she gripped your hips until they bruised.

“Holy shit, Paige.” You whimper, you hung onto her shoulder with one hand while you gripped the top of the car with the other.

She lifted up the tail of your dress, holding the fabric up by your breasts. Your lower half is exposed and it makes you shiver. “You like that, ma? Make that pussy feel so good, huh?” She questioned.

You nod, your breath reduced to choppy whimpers. The fact that anyone could see you was exhilarating, and Paige was only adding to it. Your hips move faster, chasing that high. Your speed pushes your knee into Paige’s cunt repetitively, and she’s groaning in your face, helping you get there.

“Ha—yes. Fuck yes!” You should keep it down, be cautious of who could be looking over and watching you get off on your girlfriend’s thigh, but it just felt so good.

“You leakin’ on my thigh, miss. Makin’ me so messy.” She looks down at the dark spot on her already dark wash jeans. “Turns you on, huh? You like bein’ a slut on my thigh, baby? In front of all these people?”

Each word gets you wetter until you can’t even look in her direction anymore. Your neck drops into her neck, drool slipping past your lips and down till it hit her collarbone. Paige leaves your hip to grip your neck instead, a slight pressure that only increases until she’s closing your lungs as if she wanted to kill you. It was hot. So unbelievably hot.

She reaches to take the hat off of her head, blonde hair now disheveled at her crown. Paige places it on yours, slightly lopsided as you rode her faster.

Her lips are pressed dangerously close to your ear as she chokes you within an inch of your life. “Y’know I could make you feel so much better than this? How good my tongue would feel.”

“I—gonna— fuck, baby.”

“Could strap you so damn good. Right here too. Show all these people how sexy you look when you cum. When you throw it back on me ‘til this pussy is cryin’ for me.”

“Please.” You beg for God knows what.

“Can I have it, ma?” Paige teases, sending a bite to your earlobe. “Have you make a mess on my shit. Please?” She asked.

“Gonna— fuck, fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum!” You nod. Your hand falls from the car to the window next to you for stability. You ride Paige’s thigh harder, grinding your clit against the material until it was sore. A gasp for air leaves your lips when she finally lets go of your neck and slaps your ass harshly.

When your orgasm hits, it’s like a giant tidal wave, nearly making you fall out of the car if it wasn’t for Paige holding you and helping you though it. Your legs tremble against her before you fall back into her embrace, cursing up a storm.

Paige feels your arousal seep through until it hits her bare thigh. “I didn’t know riding a cowgirl could make you cum like that.” She jokes, kissing your temple as you catch your breath.

“Shhh. Don’t make this weird.”

“I’m not! You’re the one with the freaky ass role play kink, not me.” Paige pulled your dress back down, your panties over your cunt that was covered in your own cream. She was right, you were messy, and the spacious wet patch on her leg proved it.

“Sorry ‘bout your jeans.”

“S’no problem, baby.” She shrugged, following that up by scooting her body further into the car and laying back against the seats. “While it dries you should show me what else you can ride.” Paige adjusts your body with hers, pulling you into the car and over her lap, waiting for you to finish and scoot onto her face.

“Oh my God, let me shut the door.”

kalena speakss 🪽! this is not edited but enjoy and HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🙂‍↕️

[zweigsangel]

pairing: older!rafe x spoiled!kook!reader warnings: smut, age gap (18&22), pet names, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex and more. word count: 2720

this is so long i’m sorryyyy, but i’m kinda proud of how it turned out so hope you enjoy !

you were a spoiled little brat. always demanding and getting what you wanted. your tantrums were a familiar scene, a tool you wielded expertly against your parents. and they always seemed to work, every. single. time. luxury bags, designer costumes, the latest dresses — you had everything that other girls could only dream of having. your life was perfect; boys were at your feet, a lot of girlfriends, parties every night, and you were the star of the show. what else could someone expect from an eighteen-year-old kook?

“there’s going to be a party tonight,” one of your girlfriends exclaimed. it was a lazy afternoon, and you were surrounded by the luxurious comforts of your backyard. a few of your friends were splashing around in the pool, their laughter mingling with the sound of water lapping against the tiles. others, like you, were stretched out on the sun loungers, basking in the warm sun. the air was filled with the scent of sunscreen and the distant aroma of blooming flowers.

“and it’s not just any party,” she continued, her eyes wide with excitement. “there will be older guys there! you know, past their teen years.” those words captured your interest, pulling your attention away from the magazine you were pretending to read. you lowered your sunglasses just a bit, the world tinted slightly less dark. your yellow bikini contrasted beautifully with your sun-kissed skin, making you look like a radiant summer icon.

“really?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows. your friend nodded enthusiastically, her smile as bright as the sun overhead. at that moment, a collective buzz of excitement spread among you all. you started squealing, chatting animatedly, voices overlapping. you were discussing the perfect outfits and how to make the most striking impression at the party.

and, wow, you definitely did. that evening, you decided on a daring little black dress, strapless and shimmering with countless sequins that caught the light with every step you took. it was the kind of dress that demanded attention, hugging your body in all the right places, emphasizing your curves. the neckline plunged just enough to be provocative, hinting at the possibility of revealing a bit more if you moved the wrong way. it was also undeniably short, so much so that if you bent over even slightly, there was the risk of revealing the delicate lace of your panties. as you slipped into a pair of sky-high heels, you knew you were ready to captivate the room.

the lights — pink, blue, and red — created a kaleidoscope of colors that blurred your vision as you danced with your friends. the pulsing beats of the music drove you, your hips swaying rhythmically, your hands gliding over your chest, and your head tilted back, lost in the moment.

“i’m going to get something to drink,” you shouted to your friends, your voice barely cutting through the pulsating music. making your way through the crowd, you arrived at the bar and leaned your elbows on the countertop, its cool surface contrasting with the warmth of your skin. your fingers drummed impatiently as your eyes roamed the room.

then, your eyes caught sight of someone who instantly commanded your attention. standing across the room was a guy — no, a man — who you clearly knew. it was rafe cameron, a well-known kook, and undeniably one of the most influential. you’d always found him irresistibly attractive. as you watched him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his white shirt was unbuttoned just enough to tease a glimpse of his sculpted chest, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders and lean torso perfectly.

his dark pants emphasized his athletic physique, fitting snugly yet elegantly. his face was a captivating blend of sharp and soft features — a strong jawline that, high cheekbones, and a pair of eyes that seemed to smolder with an intense, piercing gaze. his hair was casually tousled, a style that gave him an effortlessly cool demeanor. as he laughed at something one of his friends said, his lips curved into a smile that revealed a row of perfectly white teeth.

you found yourself licking your lips unconsciously, drawn to the scene before you. after receiving your drink from the bartender, you straightened up and began to walk toward him.

“hi!” you said with an innocent smile as you leaned casually against rafe’s well-defined bicep. tilting your head up, you met his gaze. rafe looked down at you, a playful smirk playing on his lips. “what’s up, kid? i think you’re too young to be here,” he teased, just loud enough to be heard over the music. his breath was warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. he chuckled, the sound deep and resonant, as he turned back to his friends.

your smile faltered, replaced by a pout. you pulled your arm away from his bicep. “i’m not a kid. i’m eighteen!” you protested, crossing your arms over your chest in a defensive gesture. rafe shrugged nonchalantly, his casual dismissal only fueling your indignation. “yeah, and i’m almost 23, so kid,” he said, his tone light and teasing as he waved you off dismissively.

your eyebrows knitted together. how dare he talk to you like that? you turned on your heels, clicking sharply against the floor as you made your way back to your friends. your face was flushed, a mix of embarrassment and annoyance coloring your cheeks.

but if rafe thought you had already given up, well, he was dead wrong. as he turned back around, he found himself staring into your doe eyes, which were locked onto him. you blinked slowly, your long lashes brushing against your cheeks as you bit your lower lip.

even as you danced, you made sure rafe noticed you. the music seemed to pulse through your veins, guiding the sway of your hips and the fluid movements of your body, drawing attention to the curve of your waist and the smooth line of your legs. your eyes would occasionally flicker in his direction, making sure he knew exactly who you were performing for. you ran your hands through your hair, letting it fall around your shoulders in a cascade, framing your face perfectly.

and he watched you, chuckling and shaking his head as he took in how desperate you seemed. each flicker of your eyelashes and every provocative movement only seemed to amuse him more. his amusement was evident in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the barely-contained smile that tugged at his lips.

and then, poof, he was gone. “he’s probably gone off to jerk off thinking about you,” one of your friends said with a playful nudge, and you couldn’t help but smirk at the joke.

but your life continued as usual: shopping, beach days, pool parties, and constant social outings. it was the routine of a spoiled kook who had been accustomed to such luxury since childhood.

yet, rafe occasionally slipped into your thoughts. sometimes you'd find your mind drifting back to that encounter. you couldn’t help but think about him, especially the way he dismissed you with that amused smile. you found yourself imagining what it would be like to get under his skin, to turn the tables and make him crave your attention. the fantasy of him needing you, added an intriguing layer to your otherwise glamorous life, turning a fleeting moment into an obsession you couldn’t quite shake.

but when your parents told you it was time to start working, it felt like your life shattered into a thousand pieces. the carefree days of endless leisure and indulgence seemed to vanish in an instant, replaced by the looming specter of responsibility.

“work? no, daddy, i can't work! come on!” you protested, jumping up from the couch where you’d been lounging, utterly shocked to hear such a word coming out of your father’s mouth. “sweetheart, you're getting older. you need to start. it’s nothing strenuous, you can handle it,” he said, his tone calm but firm, as if he’d anticipated your reaction.

you rolled your eyes dramatically, shaking your head in disbelief. “mommy, tell him something,” you pleaded, turning to your mother for support. her face softened, but her resolve matched your father’s. “sweetie, your father is right. it’s time for you to start doing something meaningful with your life.”

“ugh! this is so unfair!” you exclaimed, storming out of the living room, your frustration bubbling over. “serving food and drinks at the golf club, what a thrill!” you continued, your voice dripping with sarcasm, even as you were already halfway down the hall. the very idea of work felt like a massive disruption to the perfect world you had always known.

so, the next day, you arrived at the golf club grounds dressed in a crisp white polo top and a lace-trimmed skirt that fluttered lightly in the gentle breeze. you chewed your gum with an exaggerated pop, twirling a lock of your hair around your finger as your eyes were glued to your phone. leaning casually against the cart brimming with food and drinks, you barely noticed the lush green expanse of the golf course stretching out before you or the players attempting to perfect their swings. your thoughts were miles away, already in the comfort of your backyard pool.

“hey kid, can i get a bottle of water?” a voice broke through your reverie, jolting you back to the present. you sighed audibly, a trace of annoyance evident as you reluctantly tore your gaze from the phone screen and looked up. your eyes widened slightly when you recognized rafe cameron standing there, his tall frame outlined against the bright sun. he was dressed in casual golf attire: a pair of dark athletic shorts and a fitted polo shirt that hugged his frame. the shirt was a rich shade of blue that contrasted sharply with his tanned skin. he was watching you with a raised eyebrow, his golf club draped over his shoulder, a subtle challenge in his posture.

for a moment, you froze, the gum stalling in your mouth, your fingers still entwined in your hair. his presence was unexpected, and it took a beat for you to recover from the surprise. “well?” he prompted, his tone a mix of impatience and amusement.

you quickly straightened up, smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles on your skirt. “yes. yes, sorry.” you murmured, flustered, as you hurriedly moved behind the cart. your fingers fumbled slightly as you grabbed a bottle of water, the cool condensation a stark contrast to the warmth of your hand. as you handed it over, his long fingers brushed against yours ever so slightly, a fleeting touch that sent an unexpected shiver down your spine.

rafe took the bottle, a small smirk playing on his lips as he noticed your reaction. “thanks,” he said, his voice a low murmur that seemed to linger in the air. for a brief moment, your eyes met, and the world around you seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you standing there, the quiet tension palpable. then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed, and he turned away, leaving you standing by the cart, your heart beating just a little faster than before.

and so it was that you began to love going there every morning. what had started as just a shitty job quickly turned into something else entirely. each day, your skirts grew shorter, the hemlines creeping higher to show off more of your legs, and sometimes, when you bent down just right, a glimpse of your panties would peek out. your tops became more revealing too, plunging necklines that barely contained your chest, with half-exposed cleavage and the faint outline of your nipples visible through the thin fabric.

you’d wear sunglasses, but they were never really meant to hide your eyes. instead, you’d let them slide down to the tip of your nose, giving you a perfect view of the course while still maintaining an air of disinterest. in your mouth, a lollipop, the bright candy swirling slowly between your lips as you licked it. you knew exactly what you were doing, and you were enjoying every minute of it.

rafe observed every little detail, his eyes catching the deliberate way you acted. he was well aware that every gesture was calculated to get his attention. the others noticed it too, their comments cutting through the atmosphere with lines like, “man, why don’t you just go for it?” he’d shake his head, trying to ignore their jabs, but inside he was a mess. you were younger than him, yet the way you acted around him seemed to defy that boundary.

each night, when he returned home, he would retreat to his room or the bathroom, closing the door firmly behind him. he would free his aching erection, his mind consumed by thoughts of you. he’d stroke himself, imagining you acting like a total slut just for him. he knew it was all wrong, utterly wrong, but the fantasy consumed him entirely. no one could ever discover the depths of his obsession, the way his desire twisted his thoughts.

and one day, he could no longer contain himself. after everyone else had left, only the two of you remained. he seized your arm with a firm grip, dragging you forcefully toward the locker room. “what the fuck!” you shouted in surprise, but he didn’t acknowledge your outburst. without a word, he yanked open the door of the nearest bathroom and shoved you against the wall, shutting the door behind him with a harsh click. his voice, a low and menacing whisper, cut through the tense silence as he muttered, “you little slut, you’re finally gonna get what you want.” his fingers fumbled with his pants and boxers, pulling them down in a swift, determined motion.

he moved your soaked panties to the side and slid his throbbing cock inside of you in one powerful motion. rafe lifted your legs, wrapping them around his hips, as one hand slipped underneath your thigh, providing support and the other encircled your neck. your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling and gripping as your body arched in pleasure. loud moans and gasps filled the little bathroom.

“you’re so tight— fuck.” his voice was ragged, filled with primal desire as he whispered in your ear, his words sending a jolt of anticipation through your body. the heat of his breath against your skin made you tremble, your senses heightening with each passing moment. your eyes closed in bliss, head falling back in surrender to the pleasure that consumed you. his hand gripped your chin. "you couldn't wait, could you? to be filled by my cock," he taunted, a smirk playing on his lips as he felt you nod eagerly, a silent affirmation of your longing. "i want words, kid," he demanded, his breath warm against your flushed skin. "yes, shit—yes," you moaned out, your body responding instinctively to his touch, your walls tightening around him.

"acting like a whore just f’me. cum, baby," he grunted. with each thrust, his cock was sliding in and your pussy with a quickened pace, creating a symphony of skin slapping against skin, the little space filled with the sound of it. your skirt was hiked up to your hips, fully exposed to him, while your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as you pulled at his shirt, overcome by the intensity of the moment.

with a guttural groan, he released himself inside you, his body tensing with the force of his release. you reached your orgasm too, your back arched in ecstasy as waves of pleasure washed over you. the air was thick with the scent of sex and sweat as you both rode the waves of climax together.

he lowered you, placing one hand on your hip as he noticed the trembling of your legs. his other hand gently caressed your cheek, streaked with mascara that had smudged from tears. "see you tomorrow, kid," he murmured, his voice rough and gravelly. then he turned and walked out of the bathroom, the door clicking softly behind him. left alone, you stood there, a faint, satisfied smile spreading across your lips, swollen and red.

you had finally gotten what you wanted.

[puck-luck]

forced proximity with jack even though you guys are enemies… so you guys say 👀

lucky lift | jack hughes

warnings: elevator sex, enemies to FWB, secret pining on jack’s side, hj, unprotected p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, teasing/general dirty talk (aka i just like writing dialogue) pairing: jack hughes x reader summary: the one when you hook up with your work enemy on a whim wc: 1468

“Don’t fucking look at me like that,” You hiss. “You know I don’t like this any more than you do.”

To top off a shitty day, in which you had woken up late, spilled coffee on the shirt that you had been waiting to wear all week, and tripped up the stairs in full view of everyone in the office, you were now stuck– nay, you were trapped, cornered, imprisoned– in the elevator with none other than Jack Hughes.

You and Jack had been working at this company for the same amount of time, both of you hired in the same week, trained by the same people, and working on the same projects. You hated each other. You supposed you hated Jack first, but it was only because he made everything so competitive. He claimed he couldn’t help it when your work bestie brought it up to him (much to your chagrin), “because he was an athlete when he was younger.”

In an ideal world, this “athlete” could pry open the doors of the elevator so you could make an escape. Instead, he’s staring at you with an amused smirk on his face while you do all the work.

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Jack scoffs. 

“Maybe I do hate it more than you,” You bite back. “You seem awfully content over there to watch me do all the work.”

“I called for help,” Jack reminds you. “They said two hours. To me. I don’t remember you offering to call.”

“I didn’t have service,” You say through gritted teeth. 

“Get a better provider,” Jack says in the same tone. 

“You think you’re so fucking funny, don’t you?”

“I think you’re really easy to piss off.” Jack’s smile pulls at the sides of his lips in a way that’s almost endearing, but you also want to wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze.

“I think you–”

“I also think the stain on your shirt from your coffee has gotten worse with the sweat from all your efforts to escape,” Jack interrupts. “Maybe you should take it off.”

The initial surprise that came with his statement turns to anger at his arrogance. “Excuse me?” You exclaim, stalking over to him and whacking his arm. “You’re coming onto me? As if you couldn’t make this situation any worse?”

“We might as well have fun with it,” Jack says with a shrug, shying away from your violent slaps. 

“I don’t even like you,” You point out. “You don’t even like me.”

Jack reaches a hand up and cups your cheek, silencing you. “Does it matter?” 

The weight of his hand against your face and the pure honesty of his tone causes your stomach to turn. You’d be lying if you hadn’t thought of him like that before, but it was rare. It was during the monthly meetings Jack led, when he had to wear more business professional clothing, and he always decided to roll up his sleeves post-meeting and lose the jacket. You usually caught him in the break room brewing his own coffee, focused and straight-faced like he was about to reenter the meeting rather than celebrate its end. 

“No,” You decide. 

You allow him to pull you in, pressing your lips together in a surprisingly gentle kiss. You never thought Jack was the kind to savor something, but here you were. He’s slow with his movements, his fingers trailing over your curves and ridges like he’s trying to map your body. 

“You’re going too slow,” You complain, palming the front of his dress pants. You fit your hand on his bulge, rubbing over it until he lets out a moan. “Let’s speed things up.”

“I want to enjoy this,” Jack mumbles and you can barely hear him.

“You will,” You tell him, unzipping his pants and reaching into his boxers. You circle your hand around his dick, pumping him from base to tip, using his precum to make the glide smoother. 

“No,” Jack groans and tilts his head back. “I want to enjoy this.”

You pause your movements. “What do you mean?”

“I–” Jack bucks his hips up into your hand, your grip loose around him while you wait for him to explain. “You’re just so pretty when you’re mad at me.”

“Oh,” You breathe out. 

“And you’re mad at me all the time,” Jack whines. He pushes you against the wall of the elevator, leaning in to leave kisses along your neck. He sucks at the underside of your jaw, leaving a cool circle of saliva when he trails his lips lower. “Wanted to fuck you for so long now, Y/N.”

He presses his hips into your body, your hand still trapped in his pants. You remove it as his hands cover the back of your thighs and he lifts you up, you immediately circling your legs around his waist. He uses one hand to push his pants down, his belt clinking against the floor as the fabric pools around his feet. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth and causing him to groan. Jack pulls your skirt up and moves your panties to the side, movements quick now that he admitted his secret to you.

He presses himself inside of you, feeding his cock into your tight, wet cunt. 

“Feels so good,” Jack whispers. “So tight, baby. So wet.”

“Fuck me, Jack,” You tell him, voice strong. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Gonna,” Jack agrees with a moan, rolling his hips sensually. 

Jack steps forward until he can hold you up against the wall and push one leg so your ankle rests on his shoulder. He turns and gives your ankle a kiss, then bows his head to watch himself enter you to a rhythm that only he knows. Jack moves like he’s drunk on the feeling of you, soft noises falling from his lips like he’s trying not to be too loud. You can almost feel the elevator shaking with his movements.

“Not gonna last,” Jack chokes out, clutching at your waist. 

“Gonna come in me?” You tease, nipping at Jack’s earlobe.

Jack lets out a high keen, his mouth falling open and his eyelids fluttering shut as your entrance flutters around him, causing him to come undone inside of you. His breaths come out as stuttered as his thrusts do, his come warm inside you and leaking out when he draws himself out of you. 

Jack keeps you pressed against the wall of the elevator, but lowers himself to his knees.

“Gonna clean you up,” Jack promises. Your thighs rest on his shoulders, your ankles crossed behind his back. His hands pull at your ass cheeks, kneading them. 

“J,” You whimper when Jack attaches his lips to your entrance. He moans against your hole, flicking his tongue against your hole like a dog drinking from a bowl of water. He nuzzles his face into your cunt and brings a hand around to rub your clit in quick circles.

“Y’look so good,” Jack praises, his eyes so big and blue from where they look up at you. “You gonna come? Gonna mix us together, give me something to really enjoy?”

“Oh,” You exclaim, your fingers lacing into Jack’s hair. Your hips buck against his face and he slips a finger into your hole, pushing it in and out of you and curling it as he laps at your clit. “Fuck, Jack, just like that.”

Miraculously, he listens to you and only intensifies his actions, pumping a second finger into you.

You choke on a wail as you come on his fingers, the climax causing your head to fall back against the wall of the elevator with force. Jack stifles a laugh, but continues to lick at your come (and his own) until you’re removing your hands from his hair and trying to get your feet back on solid ground.

“You know, I like you like this,” Jack teases, fixing your panties for you and moving your skirt back to its original position. He pulls his own pants up when he rises, tucking himself away and buckling his belt with his very talented fingers. “All fucked out.”

“If anything, I’m the one who fucked you,” You bite back. “You came first and you ate your own come out of me."

“Mmm, next time I’ll leave it inside of you,” Jack says with a short kiss to your neck, adjusting the collar of your blouse. His hand ghosts over your neck and he feels the way your breath hitches. “Maybe we should get to the office early one day and I’ll bend you over my desk. You’ll have to walk around all day, feeling my come drip out of you. You’ll be begging me to clean you up then.”

note: ugh office enemies is a trope that i need in my life. if i'm going to be a slave to the work force i am going to fuck my hot enemy jack hughes whenever i can!

[dresshistorynerd]

So I got this tag on my answer to an ask about when it became acceptable for western women to wear pants, and you know it's all I need to go on a tangent.

I think the short answer here would be men have worn skirts as long as people have worn anything, so pretty long tbh. But since I am incapable of answering anything shortly, I think we can re-frame this question:

When did skirts stop being socially acceptable for men?

So let's start with acknowledging that tunics, togas, kirtles and such men wore through history were, in fact, skirts. I think there's often a tendency to think of these as very different garments from those that women wore, but really they are not. Most of the time they were literally referred to with the same name. (I will do a very broad and simplified overview of men's clothing from ancient times to Early Middle Ages so we can get to the point which is Late Middle Ages.)

Ancient Greek men and women both wore chitons. Even it's length wasn't determined by gender, but by occupation. Athletes, soldiers and slaves wore knee-length chitons for easier movement. Roman men and women wore very similar garment, tunics. Especially in earlier ancient Rome long sleeves were associated with women, but later became more popular and unconventional for men too. Length though was still dependent on occupation and class, not gender. Toga was sure men's clothing, but worn over tunic. It was wrapped around the waist, like a dress would, and then hung over shoulder. Romans did wear leggings when they needed to. For example for leg protection when hunting as in this mosaic from 4th century. They would have been mostly used by men since men would be doing the kinds of activities that would require them. But that does not lessen the dressyness of the tunics worn here. If a woman today wears leggings under her skirt, the skirt doesn't suddenly become not a skirt.

All over Europe thorough the early Middle Ages, the clothes were very similar in their basic shape and construction as in Rome and Greece. In Central and Northern Europe though people would wear pants under shorter tunics. There were exceptions to the everyone wearing a tunic trend. Celtic men wore braccae, which were pants, and short tunics and literally just shirts. Celts are the rare case, where I think we can say that men didn't wear dresses. Most other peoples in these colder areas wore at least knee-length tunics. Shorter tunics and trousers were worn again mostly by soldiers and slaves, so rarely any other woman than slave women. The trousers were though definitely trousers in Early Middle Ages. They were usually loose for easier construction and therefore not that similar to Roman leggings. However leggings style fitted pants were still used, especially by nobility. I'd say the loose trousers are a gray area. They wore both dresses and pants, but still definitely dresses. I'd say this style was very comparable to the 2000s miniskirts over jeans style. First one below is a reconstruction of Old Norse clothing by Danish history museum. The second is some celebrity from 2005. I see no difference.

When we get to the high Middle Ages tunics are still used by both men and women, and still it's length is dependent on class and activity more than gender, but there's some new developments too. Pants and skirt combo is fully out and leggings' are back in in form of hose. Hose were not in fact pants and calling them leggings is also misleading. Really they are socks. Or at least that's how they started. As it has become a trend here they were used by everyone, not just men. During early Middle Ages they were worn often with the trousers, sometimes the trousers tucked inside them making them baggy. In high Middle Ages they became very long when used with shorter tunics, fully displacing the need for trousers. They would be tied to the waist to keep them up, as they were not knitted (knitting was being invented in Egypt around this time, and some knitting was introduced to Europe during middle Ages, but it really only took off much later during Renaissance Era) and therefore not stretchy. First picture is an example of that from 1440s. Another exciting development in the High Medieval era was bliaut in France and it's sphere of influence. Bliaut was an early attempt in Europe of a fitted dress. And again used by both men and women. The second illustration below from mid 12th century shows a noble man wearing a bliaut and nicely showing off his leg covered in fitted hose. Bliaut was usually likely fitted with lacing on the sides, but it wasn't tailored (tailoring wasn't really a thing just yet) and so created a wrinkled effect around the torso.

In the 14th century things really picked up in European fashion. European kingdoms finally started to become richer and the rich started to have some extra money to put into clothing, so new trends started to pop up rapidly. Tailoring became a thing and clothes could be now cut to be very fitted, which gave birth to fitted kirtle. At the same time having extra money meant being able to spend extra money on more fabric and to create very voluminous clothing, which gave birth to the houppelande.

Kirtle was once again worn by everyone. It wasn't an undergarment, for women that would be shift and men shirt and breeches, but it was an underlayer. It could be worn in public but often had at least another layer on top of it. The bodice part, including sleeves were very fitted with lacing or buttons (though there were over-layer kirtles that had different sleeves that changed with fashions and would be usually worn over a fitted kirtle). Men's kirtles were short, earlier in 14th century knee-length but towards the end of the century even shorter styles became fashionable in some areas. First picture below shows a man with knee-length kirtle from 1450s Italy.

Houppelande was also unisex. It was a loose full-length overgown with a lot of fabric that was gathered on the neckline and could be worn belted or unbelted. The sleeves were also wide and became increasingly wider (for men and women) later in the century and into the next century. Shorter gowns similar in style and construction to the houppelande were also fashionable for men. Both of these styles are seen in the second picture below from late 14th century.

In the very end of 14th century, first signs of pantification of men can be seen. In France and it's sphere of influence the skirt part of the kirtle became so short it barely covered the breeches as seen below on these fashionable musicians from 1395-1400 France. Long houppelandes, length ranging from floor to calf, were still used by men though (the second picture, 1414 France), as were knee and thigh length gowns of similar loose style.

The hems continued to be short through the 15th century in France, but in other places like Italy and German sphere of influence, they were still fairly long, at least to mid thigh, through the first half of the century. In France at some point in late 13th century the very short under-kirtle started to be called doublet and they are just getting shorter in 1400s. The showing underwear problem was fixed by joined hose and the codpiece, signaling the entrance of The Sluttiest Era of men's fashion. Below is an example from 1450s Belgium of doublet and early codpiece in display. As you can see from the other figures, the overgowns of the previous century were also getting very, very short. In the next French example below from 1470s we can see the skirt shrink out of existence right before our eyes.

The very skimpy doublet and it's accompanying codpiece spread to the rest of the Europe in the second half of 15th century and it would only get sluttier from there. The Italians were just showing their full ass (example from 1490s). The dress was not gone yet though. The doublet and codpiece continued to be fashionable, but the overdress got longer again in the French area too. For example in the second example there's Italian soldiers in a knee length dresses from 1513.

But we have to talk about the Germans. They went absolutely mad with the whole doublet and codpiece. Just look at this 1513 painting below (first one). But they did not only do it sluttier than everyone else, they also changed the course of men's fashion.

Let's take a detour talking about the Landsknecht, the mercenary pikeman army of the Holy Roman Empire. (I'm not that knowledgeable in war history so take my war history explanation with a grain of salt.) Pikemen had recently become a formidable counter-unit against cavalry, which earlier in the Medieval Era had been the most important units. Knights were the professional highly trained cavalry, which the whole feudal system leaned against. On the other hand land units were usually not made of professional soldiers. Landsknecht were formed in late 15th century as a professional army of pikemen. They were skilled and highly organized, and quickly became a decisive force in European wars. Their military significance gave them a lot of power in the Holy Roman Empire, some were even given knighthood, which previously wasn't possible for land units, and interestingly for us they were exempt from sumptuary laws. Sumptuary laws controlled who could wear what. As the bourgeois became richer in Europe in late Middle Ages and Renaissance Era, laws were enacted to limit certain fabrics, colors and styles from those outside nobility, to uphold the hierarchy between rich bourgeois and the nobles. The Landsknecht, who were well payed mercenaries (they would mutiny, if they didn't get payed enough), went immediately absolute mad with the power to bypass sumptuary laws. Crimes against fashion (affectionate) were committed. What do you do, when you have extra money and one of your privileges is to wear every color and fabric? You wear every color and fabric. At the same time. You wear them on top of each other and so they can be seen at the same time, you slash the outer layer. In the second image you can feast your eyes on the Landsknecht.

Just to give you a little more of that good stuff, here's a selection of some of my favorite Landsknecht illustrations. This is the peak male performance. Look at those codpieces. Look at those bare legs. The tiny shorts. And savor them.

The Landsknecht were the hot shit. Their lavish and over the top influence quickly took over men's fashion in Germany in early 1500s. Slashing, the technique possibly started by them, but at least popularized by them, instantly spread all over Europe. That's how you get the typical Renaissance poof sleeves. They at first slashed the thighs of their hose, but it seems like to fit more of everything into their outfits, they started wearing the hose in two parts, upper hose and nether hose, which was a sort of return to the early Medieval trousers and knee-high hose style. The two part hose was adopted by the wider German men's fashion early in the century, but already in 1520s had spread to rest of Europe. It was first combined with the knee-length overdress that had made it's comeback in the turn of the century, like in this Italian painting from 1526 (first image). At this point knitting had become established and wide-spread craft in Europe and the stockings were born, replacing nether hose. They were basically nether hose, but from knitted fabric. The gown shortened again and turned into more of a jacket as the trunk hose became increasingly the centerpiece of the outfit, until in 1560s doublet - trunk hose combination emerged as the standard outerwear (as seen in the second example, 1569 Netherlands) putting the last nail on the coffin of the men's dress as well as the Sluttiest Era. The hose and doublet became profoundly un-slutty and un-horny, especially when the solemn Spanish influence spread all over with it's dark and muted colors.

Especially in Middle Ages, but thorough European history, trousers have been associated with soldiers. The largely accepted theory is that trousers were invented for horse riding, but in climates with cold winters, where short skirts are too cold, and long skirts are still a hazard when moving around, trousers (with or without a short skirt) are convenient for all kinds of other movement requiring activities like war. So by adopting hose as general men's clothing, men in 1500s associated masculinity with militarism. It was not a coincidence that the style came from Landsknecht. I may have been joking about them being "peak male performance", but really they were the new masculine ideals for the new age. At the time capitalism was taking form and European great powers had begun the process of violently conquering the world for money, so it's not surprising that the men, who fought for money and became rich and powerful doing so, were idealised.

Because of capitalism and increasingly centralized power, the feudal system was crumbling and with it the feudal social hierarchy. Capitalism shifted the wealth from land ownership (which feudal nobility was built upon) to capital and trade, deteriorating the hierarchy based on land. At the same time Reformation and centralized secular powers were weakening the power of the Church, wavering also the hierarchy justified by godly ordain. The ruling class was not about to give up their power, so a new social hierarchy needed to form. Through colonialism the concept of race was created and the new hierarchy was drawn from racial, gender and wealth lines. It was a long process, but it started in 1500s, and the increasing distinction between men's and women's fashions was part of drawing those lines. At the same time distinctions between white men and racialized men, as well as white women and racialized women were drawn. As in Europe up until this point, all over the world (with some exceptions) skirts were used by everyone. So when European men fully adopted the trousers, and trousers, as well as their association to military, were equated with masculinity, part of it was to emasculate racialized men, to draw distinctions.

Surprise, it was colonialism all along! Honestly if there's a societal or cultural change after Middle Ages, a good guess for the reason behind it is always colonialism. It won't be right every time, but quite a lot of times. Trousers as a concept is of course not related to colonialism, but the idea that trousers equal masculinity and especially the idea that skirts equal femininity are. So I guess decolonize masculinity by wearing skirts?

[drowning-in-paragraphs]

(UN)FINISHED CHEMISTRY

a/n: This second part was requested. Enjoy!

PART 1: (UN)FINISHED BUSINESS

jude bellingham x exgf!reader

warnings: a bit suggestive... Also, someone teach me how to come up with titles.

summary: Not enough time has passed for them to see each other again, yet Jude and she are forced to interact once more in another of Adidas’ “wonderful” campaigns. This time, though, they’re a bit closer...

The second photoshoot wasn’t supposed to happen so soon. In fact, they had both hoped to avoid each other for as long as possible, but fate—or rather, Adidas—had other plans. Just two weeks after their last encounter, they found themselves in another sterile, brightly lit studio. This time, the set was more intimate. Dimmed lights, softer tones, and a background that screamed "romance." It was all part of Adidas’ latest campaign for their new sportswear line: “Body connection.”

Right. Body connection.

Jude arrived first, dressed in a fitted black T-shirt and grey sweat pants, his athletic physique on full display. He scanned the room, taking in the atmosphere. The set was designed to look like a private gym, sleek and modern, with cushioned mats, low lights, and a few props—an exercise bench, a yoga mat, and a punching bag. It all screamed tension and sweat.

It would’ve been the perfect setting for anyone else. But when she walked in, the air shifted.

She appeared, effortlessly stunning in a sports bra and high-waisted leggings, both in deep navy that contrasted beautifully with her skin. Her hair was tied up this time, giving her a fierce, no-nonsense look. But Jude saw the way her eyes flickered when they landed on him. She was nervous, just like last time.

But it was different today. The tension wasn’t just from unfinished business or bitter memories—it was from the photoshoot brief itself.

The photographer clapped his hands as soon as she stepped onto the set. “Alright, everyone! Let’s pick up where we left off. This time, we’re focusing on physicality. I want to see raw energy, that connection. Jude, you’re going to be guiding her through some workout moves. Maybe a bit of flexibility. Close contact. Real, physical chemistry.”

Physical chemistry.

Jude swallowed hard.

Her breath hitched.

As she stepped closer, her face unreadable, they stood barely a foot apart. The energy between them crackled, and neither could deny it this time.

“Alright, let’s start with something simple. Jude, stand behind her and guide her through some stretching. Show her how to do it right,” the photographer directed, oblivious to the wildfire about to ignite between them.

Jude moved behind her as instructed, his body looming over hers as she bent forward, preparing for the stretch. His hands hovered just above her hips hesitant before they made contact, his touch firm but gentle as he guided her posture. His fingers splayed over her waist, his thumbs grazing the skin just above her waistband. She stiffened for a moment, the contact electrifying, but forced herself to stay composed.

"You’re tense," he whispered against the back of her neck, so low only she could hear. "You need to loosen up."

She wanted to snap back at him, to tell him to keep his hands to himself, but his touch—it was familiar. Too familiar. Her skin tingled where his fingers rested, her pulse quickening in a way that both thrilled and terrified her.

Jude’s voice was controlled, low and steady, but there was a heat behind it that wasn’t just for the camera. “Lean into me.”

She hesitated, her body betraying her as she shifted her weight slightly back. She could feel the hardness of his chest pressing into her back, his breath grazing her ear. He leaned in closer, their proximity leaving nothing to the imagination.

She bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile as his breath ghosted across her neck. “This is supposed to be professional.”

“Right,” he said, his voice teasing. “Because nothing says professional like having your ex feel you up.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the flutter of excitement his words ignited within her. The pull between them was undeniable, and Jude could sense it.

The photographer was completely oblivious to the tension building between them. “Perfect, perfect! Now, Jude, step in front of her. I want you two to do some light sparring, playful but intense.”

They broke apart, and for a second, she felt a strange emptiness where his body had been. Shaking it off, she took her stance, fists up, eyes locked on his. This time, she was ready to match him, toe to toe. Jude grinned, that infuriatingly confident smirk tugging at his lips.

“Don’t hold back,” he murmured, raising his fists. “I know you want to punch me.”

The playful challenge in his voice lit a fire in her, and she threw a light punch at his chest. He caught her wrist with ease, spinning her around so her back was against him once more, his arm wrapped securely around her waist. The motion was swift, almost too quick for her to react, and suddenly she found herself pinned against his body, her breath hitching as his grip tightened.

Of course, the photographer was delighted.

For a split second, the world fell away. It was just the two of them. His hand on her stomach, his breath at her neck, his body flush against hers.

“Easy,” he whispered, his lips dangerously close to her ear. His fingers slid along her skin, resting just under her ribs as if he knew exactly what he was doing to her. The heat between them was almost unbearable now.

She felt the muscle in her jaw tighten, trying to keep herself from melting into him. “Let go of me.”

Jude’s smirk deepened, but he released her slowly, savoring the feel of her slipping from his grasp. As she turned to face him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright with a mixture of anger and something else, she realized they were far beyond the point of pretending.

"Alright, alright, let’s move on," the photographer called, completely unaware of the silent storm brewing between them. "Jude, lift her like you’re helping her with a pull-up. Close contact, show that strength. We want it to look intense.”

Jude raised a brow, and she shot him a warning glance. “Careful Bellingham…”

He chuckled shortly and stepped forward, slipping his hands around her waist again, this time lifting her effortlessly off the ground as she gripped a pull-up bar above her. As her legs wrapped instinctively around his waist for balance, she felt the undeniable semi-hard length of him pressing against her.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she muttered, half to herself, half to him.

She could feel his breath on her lips, his heartbeat against her own. Her body was practically molded to his, and for a moment, the rest of the room faded into oblivion.

Jude held her there, his hands pressing into her lower back, fingers digging in just slightly. “As if this were easy for me,” he murmured, his voice rough, his lips grazing her ear as he lowered her back down slowly.

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. Did he miss her or did he just hate her? He was playing with fire, and they both knew it. Her breath came faster, her pulse racing as his grip tightened just slightly, their bodies still pressed together.

“You’re tickling me,” she muttered, her voice breathless, but even as she said it, her hands slid down to rest against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

For a second, she thought he might kiss her. His eyes darkened, flicking to her lips, and she could see the struggle within him—the same one she was battling. But instead, he pulled back just enough to let her go, a teasing smirk playing on his lips.

“I’m not falling Y/N,” he whispered again, that same taunting edge in his voice.

She half-pouted, but before she could respond, the photographer chimed in with one final instruction, completely oblivious to the electric storm between them. "That’s a wrap! Great work, guys! The chemistry is unreal."

Jude gave her one last lingering look, his eyes burning with unspoken words, and then he stepped away, leaving her standing there, her body still buzzing from the contact.

As he walked off set, she let out a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. She hated him. But God, she wanted him too.

As the crew began packing up, Y/N stayed rooted to the spot, still feeling the echo of Jude’s touch on her skin. The room had returned to its normal buzz of activity, but her mind was somewhere else, replaying the weight of his hands on her waist, the heat of his breath on her neck, the pressure against her bum...

She reached for her phone, half-expecting to find some mundane message from her manager or a notification of an app. Instead, her heart skipped a beat when Jude’s or rater, the contact named: that arrogant jerk, flashed across the screen.

Body conection? Nailed.

Her breath caught in her throat. She stared at the message for a long moment, the flickering studio lights casting a dim glow across the phone’s screen. She didn’t know what to say—didn’t know if she should say anything at all. It had been months since she had entered his chat.

A second text buzzed in before she had time to think.

Any idea when round three is?

Her pulse raced, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard. She bit her lip, the mix of amusement and desire swirling inside her like a storm. Every nerve in her body screamed for her to resist—to keep up the wall she’d built between them and left him on read—but a small part of her, the part that still remembered how things used to be, was tempted to tear it down.

She started typing, paused, then erased the words before starting again. Finally, she sent a single, teasing reply.

Don’t get too comfortable, Bellingham. Next time, I’m throwing the punch.

A few seconds later, her phone buzzed again.

His response came almost immediately.

Can’t wait.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. It was far from over.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Dr. Stevens and His Sugar Baby

Warnings: SMUT, Sugar Daddy Erik, Daddy Dom Erik

Part 7.1

Erik and Sienna spent their Saturday out on the town. They hopped on the back of his sports bike and he gave her a spare helmet to put on. They zoomed through the streets of San Francisco and kicked off their day of fun with a trip to the Museum of Modern Art. Erik and Sienna took a couple of selfies before walking hand in hand towards the museum. There was an exhibition for a South African visual artist named Zanele Muholi. Muholi calls attention to violence and trauma enacted on queer people while celebrating their beauty and resilience. It provided an opportunity for the Bay Area audiences to experience the full range of the artist’s expansive project.

It was powerful and beautiful all at the same time. Erik held Sienna’s hand as they walked around the exhibit admiring all of the visual art. Erik was a fan of Zanele Muholi and he met her during a trip to South Africa during an art event there. Sienna wondered who Erik didn’t know because he’d been to many places and met so many high profile individuals. Erik introduced Sienna to Zanele and they spoke for some time before she was whisked away.

After exploring the exhibit, they left to grab some lunch before Erik surprised her with floor seats to a basketball game. They finished their lunch and headed back to the condo where Erik fucked Sienna’s brains out before they could even make it into the door. They’d been flirting and teasing each other all day and Erik couldn’t take it anymore. 

Whenever that happened, he needed to be inside of Sienna right that instant. Imagine how hard it was to control his urges whenever they’d been apart due to their schedules. He could get in that pussy every which way and on any surface he pleased now. He bent her over, pulled her jeans and panties to her ankles, and stuffed her full of big dick from behind. She braced herself against the wall and her mewling had him going crazy in that pussy.The jeans she wore fit her ass so nice he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her all day. 

Sienna tried to behave herself for the sake of the museum date, but Erik dressed in a leather moto jacket, with his locs in a ponytail turned her on strong. She would brush her ass against the crotch of his leather biker pants whenever she passed him to elicit a groan from him. Truthfully, she still wasn’t over the previous night. That bed was a mess with their mixed fluids. Erik made Sienna cum before she could even step foot inside of the condo and soon after Erik was shooting his load deep inside her pussy. 

They spent the rest of the early evening getting ready for the game. Erik wanted to drive his motorcycle again but Sienna decided to wear a dress. He drove his Lexus and they met up with Apollo and Kitten. Sienna had never been to a pro basketball game and she never had interest in the sport before. Being surrounded by people with money and popularity made her feel a little out of place. Erik held onto her the entire night. At least she had Kitten to talk to whenever Apollo and Ignus got into the game. They all had Korean BBQ afterwards and Sienna was getting sleepy. Too much fucking and moving about drained her. Erik sensed this and they left to get some rest.

It’s Sunday now and Sienna was fast asleep in a T-shirt with no panties. She was sleeping on her stomach with her hands tucked beneath the pillow. Erik had already woken up to go to the gym for an early session. He returned and wasn’t surprised to find Sienna still snoozing. He took off his athletic shoes, socks, Nike sweatband, and iwatch. Erik silently walked over to his bed and looked down at Sienna’s sleeping frame. He loved watching her sleep. Erik strokes her cheek with a single finger before taking that same hand to lift the sheets.

Peeking underneath, he could see that she had no bottoms on. Good girl. That’s one of his rules. When it’s bedtime, Sienna sleeps with no panties or sleep bottoms to give her daddy better access whenever he wants it. And he was craving it badly. Erik left to take a brisk shower and when he returned in his naked glory, Sienna was on her back now. Erik gently pulled the sheets back to her feet and he lifted the hem of the T-shirt she wore. There, sitting fat was his favorite pussy. 

Erik thumbed her pussy lips softly while staring at her sleeping face. She started shifting in the bed, eyebrows pinched together and her bottom lip pouted. He took his finger to slip between her pussy lips and feel on her clit. She was nice and slick for him. Sienna opened her eyes and looked up at him with the cutest, sleepy expression he’d ever seen. Erik simply smiled at her before bringing his finger to his mouth and sucking her juices off. 

“Good morning, baby girl.”

“Morning, daddy.” Sienna said with a sleep laden voice. 

“Did you sleep well?”

Sienna nodded her head.

“I went to the gym. I needed a good workout.”

Sienna stretched and Erik’s eyes dropped down between her legs.

“I bet you’re exhausted,” Sienna said before yawning.

“Nah. I’m actually energized.” Erik replied.

He stroked her left thigh. 

“Baby…I want some pussy.” Erik declared. 

He wasn’t asking. He was telling.

“Daddy, I already know you do,” Sienna sat up on her elbows, “I was just waiting for you to take it.”

She dragged her bare foot over Erik’s rock hard abs. Erik seized her foot in his hand and brought his lips down to kiss her pretty toes. Sienna bites her lip when Erik’s kisses travel towards her thigh. 

“Maybe you can pass some of that energy onto me through that big dick,” Sienna whispered seductively, “I could use it.”

“Oh yeah, little mama? Are you sure you can keep up with me?”

“I’m sure. Are you sure you can handle this good pussy so early in the morning?” 

“I can handle that pussy whenever, baby. Just put it on me…”

Sienna laying on her back, Erik pushing her thighs back and slid two fingers past her opening until his digits were sucked in by her walls. Erik leans over Sienna and he lifts her shirt to reveal her breasts. Like always, they’re hard and begging to be sucked. He wrapped his lips around a stiff nipple and yanked. Sienna moaned into his ear softly. Erik sucked her nipples back and forth and then he sat back on his knees to watch her face while he fingered her. 

“You’re always so creamy for me…listen to that…so juicy…”

Sienna tugged on her nipples. 

“I’m gonna squirt like that…”

“You know I love it when you do it…”

“Unhhhhhh…”

“That’s it…make a mess all over me…”

Sienna squeaked and as if a damn broke her pussy squirted all over his hand and created a puddle between them. Erik would press his fingers against her spot and each time a tiny stream of liquid would spray from her pussy like a spitting fountain. Erik looked at his fingers when he withdrew them and it was dripping wet and covered in her slime. Erik used that hand to fist his dick. 

He lined his tip up with Sienna’s pretty pink puss and sank inside with a long hiss billowing from his lips. Sienna twisted her head and moaned. Erik immobilized her legs so that they were wide open and touching the bed. He looked Sienna in the eyes and his hips were pistoning in and out of her. The bed was firm but Sienna’s body did all the bouncing. Erik was up on his tip toes and balls deep. 

“Fuck me,” Sienna gasped, “Fuck me like that…”

Her skin was covered in goosebumps and at the pit of her stomach was a tightness that could only mean one thing. She was about to cum. Already? Sienna accepted the powerful feeling and hot tears rolled into her hairline.

“Who couldn’t handle this pussy in the morning?” Erik taunts.

He wasn’t through with her yet. He still needed his nut. Erik had her pinned against the mattress with her ankles in his grip. He knocked her walls down like a wrecking ball. 

“Oh my god! I can’t stop cumming!” 

Sienna dug her nails into Erik’s arms with how hard she clung to him. 

Erik pressed his body against hers and buried his face in her neck. He went from fucking her hard to fucking her with sharp thrusts that yielded. He would go deep and sit there, withdraw his hips slow to the tip, and then BAM! He was right back inside with another toe curling stroke. Sienna bites his shoulder and her nails claw his back.

“I love the way your pussy just fits around my dick, baby…”

“I’m gonna cum so deep in this pussy, princess…”

His words mixed with his stroke was too much.

“You ready for this nut?” Erik asked aggressively in her ear.

“Yes!”

“Here it comes…mmmmm—”

His hips went out of control and after five more deep thrusts that had Sienna crying out Erik pulled out and  he came all over her stomach. He put it back in and slow stroked her while they kissed. Eventually, Erik slipped his dick out. Sienna sat up and tried to stretch her stiff muscles but Erik sat behind her and massaged the knots out of her shoulders and upper back. 

Sienna went to take a shower while Erik got dressed in a T-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. He put on a pair of slippers and left the room to get a head start on breakfast. He opened the fridge to grab everything and the bottle of champagne from Friday night to make mimosas. Sienna arrived dressed in a pair of gray yoga shorts and a white crop top with her braids styled in a high bun. She jumped in to help Erik with the waffle batter

“Focus,” Erik wipes batter from the tip of his nose, “Silly girl…”

Sienna was in a playful mood. She was showing a side of herself that lets Erik know how much of a fun-loving person she is. He had to chase her around the kitchen a couple of times and pic her up over his shoulder. 

“Behave!” Erik popped her on the booty, “You just want my full attention.”

Erik put her down and kissed her lips. He finished making the waffles and then he moved onto the eggs. Sienna sipped her mimosa and decided to cut up some strawberries. The food was nearly done. Erik had just finished the grits when Sienna started shaking her ass on his crotch. 

“Sienna…”

She sat up straight and gave him an innocent smirk.

“You asking for a spanking, girl. Do you not see me at this hot stove?” Erik fussed.

“Fine, I’ll behave…for now.”

Erik narrowed his eyes playfully at her and then his hand reached out and he slapped her on the ass hard. Sienna reached back to cover her butt with a pout of her bottom lip. 

“Expect more of that if you keep trying me. Why don’t you grab some plates for us and set the table on the balcony?”

“Okay.”

Sienna went to set the table while Erik made sure everything was ready in serving bowls. He made more mimosas since Sienna had drunken hers down. She returned with a bright smile. 

“Can I have a kiss, daddy?”

Of course Erik wasn’t going to deny his baby girl a kiss. He smirked at her with a single dimple deep in his cheek and grabbed her by the chin before pressing his lips into hers.

“I’m gonna go use the bathroom and I'll come back.” 

She turned to leave and on her way out she bent over and made her ass bounce for Erik before walking away. He shook his head at her while carrying some of the food out to the balcony. It was a nice sunny day to eat and enjoy the weather. 

On his way back in, there was a knock to Erik’s door. He halted his footsteps in the living room to make sure he’d heard it.

Knock knock knock. 

“Did I order something?” 

With a crease in his brow, Erik strolled over to his door. He leaned in to look through his peephole and his face went blank. He stood at his full height slowly and tightened his jaw. His onyx eyes searched the area for any sign of Sienna.

Knock knock knock 

Erik wrapped his fingers firmly around the door handle and after a few meditating breaths to calm his frustration, Erik unlocked the door and cracked it open. His eyes zeroed in on the unexpected guest and he didn’t hide his anger. 

“Faith…”

She smirked at him mischievously. 

“Erik.” 

Sienna made her way down the steps of Erik’s condo with a skip like she was Dorothy in a whimsical garden. She paused abruptly when she heard a mellow voice she didn’t recognize. Sienna back tracked and leaned over the top railing to catch a glimpse of who it could be. Her brown eyes fell upon a petite woman with tawny-brown skin, bouncy shiny black hair, and playful eyes. She’s dressed in a white fitted blouse, a pair of boyfriend jeans rolled at the ankles, and nude Louboutin pumps. 

Before he could even say anything else, she entered his apartment and brushed past Erik like she was welcomed in. He blew air through his flared nostrils and cut his eyes at her like she was his mortal enemy.

“You shouldn’t be here, Faith…”

Faith’s eyes were searching high and low.

“Where’s your girlfriend? Smells like you’ve been cooking.” 

Sienna narrowed her eyes at Faith’s remark.

“What do you want, Faith? You can’t just come here unannounced.” Erik spoke with frustration.

“I was in the neighborhood doing a bit of shopping so I figured I’d stop by to see how you were doing,” Faith turned around to face him, “How’s life treating you?”

“Great.” Erik replied.

“Still that busy surgeon I see. Can’t be too busy if you’re making time for your new girlfriend.” 

“Carrie.” 

Erik pinched the bridge of his nose and clenched his jaw. 

“No, actually. You were at lunch the other day. A friend of mine saw the two of you.” 

“Listen, Faith. What I do and who I see now has nothing to do with you anymore. We’re divorced. I don’t owe you an explanation—”

“She’s young, isn’t she?”

Sienna rolled her eyes. Of course she would take it there.

“I think it’s time for you to go.” 

Sienna watched as Erik opened his door and waited with a hard glare at Faith. Faith chuckled and shouldered her LV bag before taking purposeful slow strides to his door. She looked around her one last time before stopping in front of Erik. She placed a hand against his solid chest and proceeded to drag it down his body but Erik caught her roaming hand in a firm grip. 

“No. You don’t get to do that. Manipulate me…”

“That young pussy has your mind all twisted. What do you expect to happen between you two, Erik? Marriage? A family? What do you even have in common? What would people think?—”

“How’s Brian doing?” 

Faith yanked her hand away from Erik. She turned her gaze towards her heeled feet.

“You never made time for me. You worked so much and created distance between us. All I wanted was to feel loved…”

“So you fucked some other dude to fill that void? Faith…I’ve heard this shit time and time again. Don’t come back here, understand? You gotta go…”

Sienna could hear the hurt in Erik’s voice. Faith really broke his heart when she cheated. And to show up like this and say what she said about Sienna after what she did? Sienna’s inner dialogue compelled her to stay where she was because if she didn’t…

“I still love you, Erik,” Faith said between sniffles, “I was lonely—”

“Faith,” Erik said her name with a warning behind his tone, “Leave—”

Sienna’s eyes bugged out when Faith pressed her lips against Erik’s. Erik broke the kiss with anger and that’s when Sienna descended the stairs. Erik heard her footsteps and he looked down at Faith before his eyes met Sienna’s. From her body language and expression, he knew she’d heard everything. Sienna and Faith were staring each other down like they were two predators ready to strike. 

“So, this is her?” Faith pointed at Sienna, “Really, Erik?”

“Weren’t you dismissed?” Sienna fired back. 

“Baby girl,” Erik held out a hand to calm her down, “It’s okay, she’s leaving—”

“Where did you find this one?! Some club?!”

“Didn’t he find you at a bar crying over your drink?”

Faith cocked her head to the side and tried to walk up on Sienna but Erik held her back.

“How dare you!? You’re nothing! He’s not serious about you, little girl!”

“ENOUGH!”

Erik’s voice bounced off of the walls like Zues from Mount Olympus. Both Faith and Sienna were shaken. His chest puffed out and his hands were clenched into fists. With flared nostrils and a penetrating stare between them both, Erik cut his eyes at Faith and pointed a thick finger at her.

“Leave. Now.” 

“Erik—”

“I SAID LEAVE, FAITH!”

Faith fumbled with her LV bag while fighting back tears. She walked out of the apartment and turned to look at Erik but he slammed the door in her face. Sienna hadn’t been in an altercation in a while so the adrenaline pumping through her body shocked her. Erik lowered his head with shame after locking his door. 

“I’m so sorry,” Erik said.

Sienna watched as he finally looked over at her with embarrassment. 

“She was rude and out of order.” Sienna said.

“Yes.” Erik responded, “it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have let her in.”

“It’s not your fault, Erik. I heard everything and saw everything. You weren’t wrong.”

Sienna walked up to Erik and lifted his chin so he could look at her. She smoothed some of his locs out of his face and stared into his eyes.

“I love you.” Erik said.

“I love you too.”

Sienna kissed his cheek and Erik wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her in. 

“This was such a nice moment between us before she came here. I gotta make it up to you.” Erik whispered into Sienna’s ear.

“I’ll think of something later. Let’s go eat before the food gets cold.”

Sienna leads Erik out onto the balcony and they take a seat at the table. Erik gives Sienna a smile from across the table while filling up his plate. 

Sienna enjoyed her food while her mind replayed the events that happened. Faith’s words lingered on her mind. Stealing glances at her man from across the table, she wondered what the future holds for them. Sienna didn’t want to think that Erik would grow tired of her. The thought alone pained her. Erik could feel her eyes on him and he looked up through the curtain of locs and shook his head to move them away. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He whispered.

Sienna gave him a half shrug, “Nothing.”

Erik placed his fork and knife on his plate and licked his lips.

“What’s on your mind?” He questioned.

“It’s nothing, really,” Sienna cut into her waffle.

“Does this have anything to do with Faith?”

Sienna shook her head but Erik could see her eyes welling up.

“Baby,” Erik stood up and crouched down next to her, “What is it?”

He rubbed her back and Sienna exhaled a shaky breath. She turned in her chair to face him and Erik grabbed both of her hands. 

“Talk to me.” 

“I don’t want you to get tired of me.” Sienna finally said with a whimper in her voice.

Erik exhaled and his shoulders slumped.

“Look at me, Sienna,” Erik commanded. He made his voice softer, “I could never get tired of you. The way I feel about you…I’ve never felt. I’m not saying that because it sounds nice, I’m saying it because I fucking mean it. You’re the first woman to ever make me feel this love so deep…I would never sabotage that. I would never grow sick of that feeling…baby…you never have to worry…”

Sienna’s tears rolled down her cheeks. This intense love she felt for Erik made her body shiver. It was love so deep she could feel it in her nerves. It was love so intense that it scared her. 

“It’s not even about the sex it’s–it’s so much deeper than that with you. Being around you brightens my day. Being around you I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. Don’t you ever doubt that, hear me?”

“Yes,” Sienna sniffled.

“Come here,” Erik picked Sienna up and she wrapped her legs around him, “Fuck Faith. Fuck what she said, baby.”

They swayed side to side while tightly clinging to each other. Erik’s heart pounded against his rib cage and he buried his face into Sienna’s neck. 

“You’re my girl?” Erik asked

“Yes,” Sienna replied.

“Forever?” Erik asked.

“Yes,” Sienna sniffled

“Give me a kiss.”

Sienna lifted her face from Erik’s neck and pressed her soft lips against his plump ones. They tongued each other down while Erik held her up with his hands beneath her ass. Sienna broke the kiss and smiled at Erik with puffy eyes.

“Keep smiling, that’s what I wanna see,” Erik nibbled on Sienna’s neck, “Now, can we finish this good food?!”

Sienna giggled, “Yes, I’m so hungry.” 

Erik put Sienna down and she sat back in her seat while he took his place across from her. They laughed and picked up their glasses, toasting to what the future holds for them before enjoying their brunch with a great view.

Doctor Stevens finished off the last of his Liquid IV before entering the hall from his office. He was running a little behind schedule, so he took long strides to OR 4 so he could get started on a joint fusion case. Once there, a good friend and colleague of his, DeMarcus Abrams; an Anesthesiologist Assistant, greeted him while gowning up for the case. 

“Erik, what’s up man?” 

DeMarcus tilted his chin up in greeting since he was already dressed in sterile gear. 

“Marcus! How’s it going, bro? Been a while since I’ve seen you here.” Erik replied.

“Been good, man. I know, I picked up a shift here. You know I’m in between working here and UCSF Medical Center.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about all of that. How’s married life treating you?”

DeMarcus blew out his cheeks and laughed.

“It’s amazing. I’m a father of triplets now.” 

“WHAT?!”

Erik gawked at DeMarcus. Lori, the RN, came over to help Erik gown up. 

“Yeah, E. Three beautiful baby girls.” 

Erik beamed, “Oh my God! You know you gotta show me some pics, Marcus! Congrats, man! I’m so happy for you. That’s beautiful, man…beautiful.” 

“I’ll show you some pics. Let me get in here…”

DeMarcus slipped inside of OR 4. Lori just finished up with Erik and he made his way inside, gloves up, a few residents waiting patiently. The Anesthesiologist that DeMarcus was assisting had already put the patient under. He let DeMarcus take over so he could step into another case where he was needed. 

“Alright, sorry about that. Let’s do the demographics and get started…”

The Circulating Nurse read off the patient's chart. It was an Arthrodesis of the lumbosacral spine. The patient is a fifty-three-year-old Caucasian male with surgical history of a left shoulder replacement due to a car accident. 

Afro beats filled the room as Doctor Stevens got started. Everyone worked as a team and no one got on his last nerve. He joked, laughed, engaged with the residents, and moved his hips a little. He was in such a good mood because of a special woman in his life. He couldn’t wait to see her again. He’d been busy all week long with case after case. He needed some time away, even if it was for a work event. 

“Alright, let’s take a second. I need an X-ray.”

The Radiologic Technician rolled the C-arm forward and awaited their instructions. 

“Give me an AP, lateral, and fifteen degree oblique to start…”

Erik and the rest of the staff backed away to stay out of the radiation field. 

“Last time we chatted, Erik, you were finalizing things with you-know-who.” DeMarcus said.

“X-RAY!”

Beep! 

“Ha, yeah, I gotta tell you about that one…”

Erik walked over to look at the image. He was happy with what he saw, so he motioned for the Technician to continue.

“It’s all over. I’m no longer a married man.” Erik replied.

“X-RAY!”

Beep! 

“Thinking about getting back out there?” DeMarcus questioned.

Erik made his way over to see the lateral image. 

“Perfect.”

He stepped away again.

“…I’m with someone new. She’s amazing.” 

“For real?! That’s alright, man. You’re not a spring chicken anymore. Gotta get it in while you can.” 

Erik and DeMarcus laughed.

“X-RAY!”

Beep!

“Hold on fool…”

Erik shook his head and chuckled to himself while he headed towards the screen to see the image. 

“We’re good to go.”

Erik was in the zone after that. 

“Scalpel…”

He held out his hand and the Surgical Tech passed him the surgical blade. Erik made the incision he needed and carefully separated the skin and muscle.

“Forceps, please. The long ones…”

Lori accepted the forceps and safely handed them to Erik. 

“Thank you…I need some overhead light caudally…”

The Circulating Nurse adjusted the light towards the foot of the table. About two minutes later, Dr. Stevens found what he was looking for. 

“Okay…I see where we need to fuse…”

The Residents crowded in closer to inspect as well before stepping away for Erik to have some space.

“I also see the fracture here at L5-S1…hmm…may need to file this out just a bit before fusing. We don’t want our patient coming back because the screws cracked the vertebrae…”

The Residents nodded and hummed. 

“Pop quiz, what’s this? Titanium or Stainless Steel?”

One of the Residents, an Indian girl, raised her hand timidly. 

“Titanium. I can see that it’s more durable and it appears more lightweight.” 

“TEN POINTS TO?—”

“Imaan.”

“TEN POINTS TO IMAAN!”

The entire OR 4 erupted into laughter. They loved it when Dr. Stevens was in a playful mood. Less attitude and shouting. No one liked to be on his bad side. 

“Curette…”

Erik grasped the curette to scrape away tissue. He worked and bobbed his head to the music. It was nothing but good vibes and good energy.

“Whoever this new woman is, she got her claws hooked on you, Stevens.” 

Erik cracked a smile. No one could see his megawatt smile since it was hidden behind a mask and face shield. 

That’s right. His woman. 

“I need the saw now…”

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

The saw wizzed to life and Erik carefully sawed away at a disc between L5-S1. The saw came to a complete stop and he handed it back to Lori.

“Okay…So now, we fuse. Give me an overhead light cephalad.”

Circulating Nurse came to the rescue and she tilted the light towards the head.

Erik put screws, rods, plates and cages in. The fusion took almost an hour to do. He called for repeat X-rays before he finished. 

“What’s her name if you don’t mind me asking?” DeMarcus questioned.

“I’ll tell you when we leave.” Erik responded.

“X-RAY!”

Beep! 

“Okay…we’re looking good everyone…”

The Technician pulled back when Erik gave his approval. He hoped this was his final case of the day and he couldn’t wait to get home and shower. He closed up the incision in the patient’s back and did one final checking before exiting OR 4 for the rest of the team to finish up.

Erik removed his surgical gear, washed his hands, and headed back to his office. He checked his phone and noticed a missed call from Sienna. He knew what it was about. She’d taken her finals and promised to call him when she’d finished up. 

Erik shut his office door and settled behind his desk. He FaceTimed Sienna, elbows propped up on his desk and leg jittery beneath the table. He was so nervous. He knew his baby girl was going to pass, but he still felt anxious. Sienna came into view. 

“Hi, Daddy!”

She was sitting in her car, dressed in her nursing school scubs. Her curly hair was slicked back into a bun with baby hairs. Erik could tell that she had been crying. Her bottom row lash extensions were wet from her tears. Her beautiful brown eyes reminded him of maple syrup. She had the biggest smile on her face. 

“Hey, little mama! How did you do?”

“I PASSED!!!!”

Erik scooted back in his office chair with wheels and raised both of his toned arms above his head. He cheered Sienna on, hooting and hollering. One hand came down onto his desk and he bit down on his bottom lip.

“THAT’S WHAT THE FUCK IM TALKIN’ ABOUT!”

“I can’t believe it!!”

“What did I tell you? I knew you had that, baby!”

“Daddy, I passed! I’m so fucking hype right now!”

Sienna couldn’t stop smiling. 

“One step closer to that NCLEX and graduation. You got this. I’m so fucking proud of you, girl. Fuckin’ killing it…”

“Thank you! I’m in high spirits. I’ll be in my dream job in a matter of months.” 

“Yes ma’am. I can’t wait to see you. We gotta celebrate in Hawaii.”

“Definitely! I also plan to do a little something here with friends on Friday before we go? Maybe go out for drinks and clubbing…”

“Sounds like a plan, love. Let me know the details and I can take care of it.” 

“Okay! I’ll let you know later. We’re leaving for Hawaii on Monday, right?” 

“Yes. I’ll pick you up after you spend time with your friends this Friday.”

“I love you,” Sienna said with a pout of her bottom lip.

“I love you too, babygirl. Let me go…I’ll talk to you later, alright?”

“Do you think you could come over?” 

Erik smirked at Sienna. 

“Of course I can. I’ll be over tonight.”

“OKAY!”

“alright, beautiful. Drive safe, later.” 

Sienna put up the peace sign and ended the call.

Erik couldn’t stop smiling to himself. He was so proud of her. It was beyond words. He grabbed his lunch bag from the mini fridge and left his office. He had some leftover guacamole and chips to eat. Erik entered the break room and there were a few people scattered about that were finishing up. Erik noticed DeMarcus at a table in the corner with a half-eaten deli sandwich and Lay’s chips. 

“Finally get to take a break, huh?” Demarcus blurted out between bites of his Turkey club. 

Erik sat his lunch bag down in front of DeMarcus before pulling out a chair to take a seat across from him.

“Yeah, got a THR and a TKR back to back before it’s time for me to leave. I have a trip to Hawaii.” Erik explained.

“That award ceremony?” 

“Yep, it’s an excuse to relax, you know?”

Erik retrieves his generous homemade guacamole and chips. 

“Oh! Let me show you the three rugrats!”

“Did you just say the three regrets?!” Erik remarked with wide eyes and elevated brows. 

DeMarcus shakes his head while chewing his masticated food. He chuckled to himself before taking a sip of his Lipton Green Tea to wash the food down smoothly. 

“No, nigga. I said RUG-RATS.” 

“That’s why you’re supposed to chew your food first before you speak,” Erik laughs, “Three baby girls?”

“Three identical baby girls that have their own personalities…”

DeMarcus shows Erik a bunch of photos of them, swiping left. Erik couldn’t contain his dimpled smile. They were so adorable and chunky! 

“Yvette was carrying all of them?! Man…the power of a woman. That’s amazing, De.”

“I know, snap-back wasn’t what I expected but…”

Erik’s forehead furrowed at DeMarcus’ remark. 

“How is Yvette? Is she still doing hair?” Erik asked.

“She is. Opened another salon a month ago. I’m so proud of her.” DeMarcus replied with a prideful smile.

Erik munched on his guacamole and chips. DeMarcus went on and on about how being a first time dad is an adjustment, how expensive babies are, and how he hadn’t been out for months. Erik couldn’t relate, but the DeMarcus he knew before he became a married man and a father used to cut up. It was so bad that Faith complained about Erik hanging out with him. 

“Enough about me. Let’s talk about you. So, a new lady friend?”

Erik peered over at DeMarcus with a coy smirk. 

“What’s her name?” DeMarcus questioned. 

“Sienna.” 

“Sienna…sounds sexy. Is it serious?” 

Erik rubbed his hands together to get rid of the crumbs before grabbing his lemon water. He took a few sips before he responded to DeMarcus. 

“It is.” Erik replied.

“How did you two meet?”

Erik looked around to make sure it was safe to discuss this without anyone eavesdropping. He’d been good friends with DeMarcus for years, he could trust him. Especially with the amount of secrets Erik’s kept regarding DeMarcus and his actions. Like the bachelor trip to Jamaica where he cheated on his fiancé with some chick he’d been talking to online for a while. Or the time he used to hook up with a nurse during overnight rotations. 

“…she’s a nursing student.”

“For real?” DeMarcus whispered in shock, “Like, one of the students working the orthopedic floor? In the blue scrubs?”

“Yeah,” Erik whispered, “That’s how we hooked up.” 

“Damn. How the hell did you bag that?”

Erik chuckled, “You got jokes I see.” 

“She young?” DeMarcus asked, excitement swimming in his dark brown orbs.

Erik simply nods his head while continuing to eat his snack.

“Does Sienna have a friend?” 

“Fool, you got a wife and kids at home. Relax.” Erik argued. 

“And you had a wife that I would have never thought you would divorce. You tryna get your groove back or something dipping in some fresh pussy?”

Erik cocked his head at DeMarcus. The nerve of this nigga.

“Faith cheated on me. She deserved to get divorced, and  I don’t need a groove back, nigga. Shit ain’t never die. I’m really feeling her…I love her. She’s amazing.”

“She got your nose wide open, E. You better hope she doesn't take you for all you’re worth. That’s what they do. You got all this money. They see that as a meal ticket. All I’m saying is be careful, E. Don’t jump into anything you’re not prepared for.” 

Erik almost choked on his water at DeMarcus’ words. 

“Marcus, are you serious? You jump into shit you’re not prepared for all the time. If anything, you need to look out for yourself.” 

“We ain’t talking about me.” DeMarcus jokes.

“We need to talk about you. You better hope Yvette doesn't get rid of you this time around.” Erik argues.

“Yeah, yeah, nigga. Anyway, any plans tonight? I was thinking we could get some drinks. You can hit up Jamie, Tony, and Leo. Like old times. I need to let loose.” 

Erik didn’t have any plans tonight. He wasn’t going to see Sienna until tomorrow. It has been a while since they all linked up. 

“Yeah, why not? I’m down.” Erik said.

“I was thinking Blackbird.” DeMarcus declared.

“I’ll let the fellas know. Just text me the time and I’m there.”

They clean up after their meal and Erik turns to leave when he spots Teairra walking in wearing maroon scrubs with a matching cotton scrub cap, black cat-eye frames, and black patent Dansko nursing shoes with floating hearts printed on them. That beautiful pageant smile and topaz eyes fringed with wispy lash extensions was directed towards Erik. 

“My favorite doctor!” Teairra announced while greeting Erik with a hug. 

“Sup, T? Good to see you.” 

“I’m really glad to see you. You know I’m transferring to ortho, right? That means we get to see more of each other.” Teairra flirts.

“Ha, you’re something else, T. Guess who decided to show up?”

Erik stepped to the side and pointed at DeMarcus. Teairra gasped with surprise before opening her arms to hug him. 

“DeMarcus! How have you been?! Good to see you!”

“You too! Look at you girl, damn! Still just as beautiful!” 

“Cut it out,” Teairra slaps his arm, “I heard you had triplets?! I want to see a picture!”

“Aight, I’ll show you the girls, but real quick…any plans later?” 

Erik cut his eyes at DeMarcus. He knew exactly where this was going. After all, Teairra and him did have history. She didn’t think Erik knew, a lot of people don’t know. 

“No. I was gonna head home and pour myself a glass of red wine after my bath and watch a movie. What’s happening?” 

“Erik and I are grabbing drinks at Blackbird. A few of our mutual friends will be there. I was wondering if you wanted to come through?”

“Ooh, sounds fun. I don’t mind. You still have the same number?” Teairra asked. 

“I do. Do you?” 

Teairra giggled to herself causing Erik to look heavenward with a shake of his head. 

“Yes. Still the same. And you’ll be there for sure, E?”

Teairra strokes Erik’s bicep affectionately. DeMarcus clears his throat to gain her attention back. 

“Yeah, he’ll be there. Don’t flake on me, T. I ain’t seen you in a while. We got catching up to do.” DeMarcus said.

“Of course. I’m a woman of my word. I got a few hours left on the clock before I punch out. I’ll see you two later.”

Teairra gave them both a flirty wave before sauntering over towards the fridge to fill up her Stanley cup with filtered water. DeMarcus and Erik both share a look before leaving the break room. 

Erik waved goodbye to DeMarcus before heading back to his office. After putting his things away, Erik returned to the OR and knocked out two cases back to back that took him a total of four hours to complete. Despite all of the work, Erik had all the energy in the world, so much so that he clocked out as a Surgeon and clocked in as a Radiologist. After completing his residency as a Surgeon, Erik returned to San Francisco and did an additional five years for Radiology while simultaneously working as an Orthopedic Surgeon. 

Erik took the elevators down to radiology while clipping his work phone and pager to his hip and retrieving his dictation recorder from his white lab coat embroidered with his name. From the elevators, Erik made his way down a silent hall and past a few rooms until he found an unoccupied reading room shrouded in darkness. He sat down, monitors surrounding him. Everything came to life with a jerk of his mouse. Erik brought up images that needed to be read and transcribed. He wanted to knock out as many as he could within the next hour so he could finally leave for the day. 

“Osteopenia. Minimal degenerative changes. Soft tissue swelling. Trace effusion. No fracture. There is atherosclerosis of the arterial vasculature. There is also a calcified partially seen, oval-shaped density seen posterior to the right mid-thigh region, which is of questionable significance of etiology. Further evaluation with ultrasound would be beneficial…”

Erik pulled up to 2124 Market Street, parking his Lexus before hopping out. Erik wore khaki cargo pants, a white T-shirt, and a denim jacket. He paired his look with white Jordan’s and minimal gold jewelry. His locs were loose and he smelled like Chanel Bleu De. Erik walked into Blackbird Bar and spotted Leo playing pool with Toni. Unfortunately, Jamie couldn’t make it due to an emergency. Toni, the Intellectual Property Lawyer who goes by The Owl at Honey Pot, just finished his turn and he passed the stick over to Leo. Toni grabbed his glass and took a sip while shit-talking Leo. 

“Damn, ya’ll couldn’t wait for your boy?” 

Leo and Toni looked up at Erik at the same time. They paused the game to dab him up. 

“Ready for our trip?” Leo asked.

“I’m all set. Just have to pick up the lady tomorrow.” 

“Where are you two going again?” Toni questions.

“Hawaii. An honorary ceremony for prestigious doctors all over the U.S.” Erik replied.

“Sounds like some mischief. I’m sure you two will have a story to tell when you get back.” 

Erik and Leo could only laugh at Toni’s remark. He was correct. 

“Treasure is really excited about it. She’s currently spending my money on a bunch of shit she probably won’t wear.” Leo said.

“I need a drink…”

Erik excused himself to the bar. He waved down a tall, thin white male with shaggy hair, thin lips, and hollow cheeks. He looked like he smoked a pack of cigarettes a day. He settled in front of Erik, tossing a black towel over his shoulder. 

“I’ll take an old fashioned bourbon, little ice please.” 

Erik watched him whip up his drink and then he sat it on a napkin in front of him. Erik took a cocktail straw before walking back over towards the pool table. He caught the tail end of a conversation between Toni and Leo.

“…Me and Emerald eloped. It was the craziest time.”

Erik cocked his head back with surprise. 

“You eloped?! What?! When?!”

“About a month ago. We went to Vegas. I know, crazy, right? She just does it for me. I’m so obsessed with her…”

Leo shared a look of astonishment with Erik. Toni was the least spontaneous out of the friend group. Emerald really took him out of his shell. She’s definitely what he���d been missing.

“Wow…” was all Leo could muster. 

“Got pictures?” Erik inquired.

“I do…mostly naked…”

Erik put his hand up, “I think I’ll pass.” 

Leo turned his mischievous gaze onto Erik.

“What about Miss Peacock?” 

Erik instantly smiled at the mention of Sienna. 

“I’m so proud of her. She’s graduating nursing school soon. Such a big accomplishment, you know? I have a huge surprise for her. I plan on taking her out of the country to Jamaica. I have it all planned out…can’t give you guys the details yet.”

“A proposal?” Toni asked.

Erik simply shrugged one shoulder while taking a sip of his old fashioned. 

“Have you met her family yet?” Toni asked. 

“Nah. But I plan on it. She’s from Houston so we’re going there for a weekend. Mostly her mother’s family. She doesn’t have a relationship with her father’s side.” 

Leo chuckles, “I met Treasure’s dad…man has a mean right hook I’ll tell you that.”

Erik’s eyes bugged out over the rim of his glass. Toni’s mouth hung open. 

“It’s all good now. It was mostly because he has a way of talking to her in the most disrespectful manner. She’d endured that bullshit for years and I wasn’t going to stand there and watch him belittle her. So, I spoke up. We tussled for a bit, I walked out of there with a busted lip. He ended up with three cracked ribs. Nice guy…”

Leo was just as much of a hot-head as Erik. There have been plenty of times where Leo got himself into altercations that could have landed him in jail. Just a crazy white boy. 

“I say that to say…you may run into some issues with her family for a number of reasons. Don’t be like me, E. Have some reason. Channel your inner Toni.” Leo explained.

“Thanks for the advice,” Erik replied with a shake of his head. 

Leo clinked glasses with Erik and then his eyes went towards the front of the bar where he recognized someone. Erik followed his gaze and noticed DeMarcus walking in wearing a black linen button-down top, matching black pants, and designer sneakers on his feet. He had a fresh line-up with the waves on swim. As he made his way towards them, he threw his hands up in greeting. Leo sat his drink down and brushed past Erik to give DeMarcus the meanest dab that sounded like a loud clap. He pulled DeMarcus in for a bro hug, patting him on the back. 

“Marcus! What’s good, man?! Long time no see! What the fuck, Stevens?! Why didn’t you tell me this asshole would be here?!”

“Leo! Crazy fuckin’ Leo! What’s good, cuz?! Aye! Toni! Looking good my dude!”

“What’s up, De!” Toni shouted.

“Get a motherfuckin’ drink you fuckin’ asshole!” Leo gripped DeMarcus’ shoulders before shoving him away towards the bar. That action caused Leo’s Prince Charming haircut to fall messily into his eyes. He smoothed his hair back as he walked back to the pool table. 

“Let me take this off,” Leo removed his leather biker jacket, jacked arms with tattoos showing from his black, distressed muscle tee.

“Here we go,” Toni spoke with a hushed tone. 

“To have you two in a room again…memories,” Erik said.

“Makes me want to return to practice.” Leo replied.

“I’m back…”

DeMarcus sauntered over with his drink. He checked his phone while taking a spot next to Leo. 

“Y’all mind if a lady joins us?” DeMarcus asked Toni and Leo.

“Who? Your wife?” Toni replied 

“No. Her name is Teairra. She works with Erik and I.”

“Fine with me.” Leo said.

“I’m cool with it,” Toni brought his attention back to his drink. 

“So, how’s everything?” Leo asked.

“Same old shit, just three babies added into the equation. You?” 

“Life’s great. I just came back from Egypt with my baby doll. I’ve been enjoying life.” Leo replied with a content smile.

“Baby doll?” DeMarcus raised an accusatory brow at Leo.

“Treasure. She’s my sugar baby.” 

“Sugar baby?”

“Yes, Marcus.” Leo shakes his head.

“So, Erik has a girlfriend younger than him and you have a sugar baby?” 

“We all have sugar babies, DeMarcus. Well, Toni just married his so technically she’s his wife now. Erik’s thinking about proposing. Jamie is the only one missing tonight.” 

“How the fuck did y’all pull this off? And why the fuck was I left out?”

“Because you’re married.” Erik blurted out.

Leo peered at Erik, “Well…technically I was married when I started messing around with Treasure—”

“But you were in the process of divorce. This fool isn’t.” Erik argued.

“I know this nigga ain’t got morals now.” DeMarcus jokes.

“Did I ever cheat on my wife?” 

“No, but I’ve seen your eyes wander many times.” 

“It happens,” Erik shooed DeMarus, “I’m not doing this with you. We all know how you treat Yvette.” 

“Guys, relax, yeah? Let’s drink and kick it!” Leo said.

Erik heaved a sigh before downing the rest of his drink. He excused himself to the now crowded bar for another drink. It took him ten minutes to get another glass of bourbon. When he returned, Teairra had made an appearance. She was dressed in a strappy, slim-fit, all black, body con dress. She didn’t leave anything to the imagination with her cleavage hanging out. All black stilettos on her feet with toes painted red, silver hoops in her ears, and her hair styled in a low bun. Those topaz eyes were on the prowl. She looked like she came for a good time, not a long time. 

“Hi! I’m Teairra,” She shook Leo’s hand before turning towards Toni, “Nice to meet you both.” 

“Leo.”

“Toni.” 

“Wow, so these are your friends, huh? Interesting.” 

Teairra’s eyes lit up like Christmas. What she saw was a potential train. Erik knew that look in a woman’s eyes. 

“It’s so great to finally meet you guys!” Teairra said. 

“You too, beautiful. So, you know these two?” Leo said. 

Teairra spotted Erik and she didn’t hesitate to nibble on that pouty, bottom lip and eye-fuck him. Meanwhile, DeMarcus wasn’t feeling that. He gave Erik a dirty look that went unnoticed. 

“Oh yeah. This one here is my favorite doctor, and this one—we go way back. He went and got married on me and shit!” 

“Don’t do that, T. You know it’s still all love,” DeMarcus spoke defensively, a hand to his chest as if she’d pierced his heart.

“Mhm, if it’s still all love, buy me a drink,” Teairra sassed, poking her curvy hip out and thrusting her chest forward. 

“You know I gotchu! Whatchu want, love?” 

“Surprise me.” 

DeMarcus licked his lips at her before walking away. Erik and Leo share a look and then they cut their eyes at Toni who was trying to contain his laughter. 

“So, how do you all know each other?” Teairra asked.

“I met Toni from school way back when. Leo and I used to work together.” Erik said.

“Okay! Do any of you handsome men have a wild story to share about Dr. Stevens with the gifted hands?” 

Toni and Leo share a laugh. DeMarcus returned with what looked like a lemon drop martini. Teairra accepted the drink, taking a sip while staring Erik down. Erik looked away and down at his now empty glass, finding the melting ice within interesting. 

“Well, This man here is a great dancer. He’s the life of the party for sure.” Toni replied.

“Really?! You dance, Dr. Stevens?” 

“I do.” Erik said.

“He’s a sugar daddy.” 

Erik slowly looked over at DeMarcus. Teairra’s mouth dropped open and she looked at Erik with shock. 

“A sugar daddy?! What the hell?”

Leo and Toni remained silent. They could practically see the anger in Erik’s body language. 

“He’s also hot-tempered. Everyone here knows not to fuck with him. Right, DeMarcus?” Leo said in a playful manner to mask the warning behind his words. 

DeMarcus didn’t seem to catch the hint. 

“He likes them young, T.” DeMarcus continued.

“Erik, how old are you?” Teairra asked. 

“I’m forty-five. I’ll be forty-six in October.” Erik said

“You’re only like…eleven years older than me. So, that makes me young too, right?”

Teairra gave Erik a purposely slow once-over. She wanted Erik badly and he wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. 

“T, calm down. He’s spoken for.” DeMarcus said.

“And you’re married,” Erik looked at DeMarcus with a glare. 

DeMarcus didn’t have a rebuttal for that. Leo cleared his throat before asking if anyone wanted to join him in a game of pool. 

“Damn, I mean…I was right there, Erik!” Teairra laughed. 

DeMarcus took that time to snake his arm around Teairra’s trim waist. She took sips of her martini while Erik and Leo took up a game of pool. Erik removed his jean jacket and placed it on a stool. The sleeves of his white T-shirt strained against his biceps. Teairra wasn’t paying attention to a thing DeMarcus had to say in her ear. She wanted Erik. Erik could feel her staring but he ignored it. 

“What this sugar baby got on me?” 

As the game went on, Teairra made her way over to Erik, leaning her body over the pool table while he tried to focus on making his shot. He cut his eyes at Teairra for two seconds before turning his attention back on the game. Erik aimed for a green ball and shot it towards a few balls, watching them scatter. He stood up and when he looked down at Teairra, she was staring at his crotch. Erik gave the stick to Leo and created space between him and Teairra. 

“You don’t want to answer my question?” She pestered.

Erik ignored her. 

“You need another drink, beautiful?” 

DeMarcus came over with a fresh martini. Teairra gave him a flirty smile, accepting her drink. 

“Why do you keep bothering, Erik? Bother me.” DeMarcus said.

“If I bother you, it’s gonna be trouble, De.”

Leo took his shot and one of the balls fell into a corner hole. Erik kissed his teeth before snatching up the stick. 

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game!” Leo shouted.

“Fuck you!” Erik yelled back. 

“Don’t be a sore loser, E,” Toni jokes.

“You think I'm a lose, Toni? Like you?” Erik laughs.

“Fifty bucks on Leo!” DeMarcus said.

The game continued on, and Teairra was becoming increasingly drunk. Erik started to become concerned that maybe she should stop drinking. Any surface in that bar, Teairra was arching her back over it and popping her ass. That shit was moving like water. DeMarcus was stuck in a trance. He was playing a mental game of tug-a-war right before them. One part of him wanted to go over and get behind that while the moral part of his mind told him no. 

Leo missed an opportunity with a shot and an uproar happened between him and DeMarcus. Erik simply laughed to himself while motioning for Leo to pass him the stick. Leo kissed his teeth as he watched Erik take a final shot, the shot that made him win the game. Teairra cheered and clapped while DeMarcus sulked. He reluctantly slapped the fifty bucks onto the pool table. 

“Nah, De, save that for some formula or something.” Erik quipped. 

The laughter that erupted around them had DeMarcus making a stank face. Erik didn’t want his money. 

“You think you’re a big shot because you got all this money! I got bread too, nigga!” DeMarcus shouted defensively. 

Erik scrunched his handsome face, “never said you didn’t. I’m just saying you got a family to feed.” 

DeMarcus sucked his teeth before grabbing his drink to finish. Erik could tell he was drunk.

“De, it’s cut off time, bro. You had enough.” Leo said.

“The one time I got to hang out with you fools and now I’m drinking too much?! Let me live!” DeMarcus argued.

“It’s a hotel across the way. Maybe you should sleep it off.” Erik suggested.

“I got a Lyft here but I’m definitely getting a room for the night. Those martinis caught up with me,” Teairra said.

“I’ll get you some water.”

Erik left to grab her some water from the bar. Blackbird was wall-to-wall filled with people. Erik couldn’t even hear himself think. He made it to the bar after shoving past some people. He flagged down a woman with electric blue hair and she made her way over towards him. Erik ordered three waters and she gave him three bottles. On his way back to the pool table, Leo and Toni were talking closely. Erik searched and there was no sign of Teairra or DeMarcus. 

“Where did they go?” Erik interrupted.

“De went to the bathroom. Not sure where Teairra went.” Toni replied.

The mention of the bathroom made Erik feel the urge to relieve himself. He sat the bottles down and walked towards the men’s. When he arrived, he opened the door and it was mostly empty except for the first stall. Erik could see two pairs of feet from beneath the stall. A man and a woman. He walked over to the urinal and while he relieved himself, he could hear sucking and slurping sounds coming from the stall. He already knew what was up. 

“Mmm, yeah…suck that dick, T.” 

Erik flushed and went to wash his hands. He could only shake his head. The noises grew louder and shuffling intensified. 

“Mhmm…”

“This nigga…”

“Erik?” 

The stall door pushed open and standing there, spit covered dick hanging out through the opening of his briefs, shirt pushed up beneath his chin, was DeMarcus. Teairra was crouched down in her stilettos with one hand full of dick and the other reaching out to keep the door open. Her lips down to her exposed chest was covered in spit. Her once pristine makeup was now ruined from the amount of tears that had fallen from deep throating. Erik couldn’t tear his eyes away. 

“What the fuck, T?” DeMarcus blurted out with agitation. 

“What? He can join us if he wants. I’d love to suck both of you off…I wanna see what that dick tastes like…I bet it’s pretty…isn’t it, Doctor?”

Erik felt his dick jump. He had to get out of there and fast. The bourbon coursing through his body mixed with the sudden horniness was all too much. 

“Nah, I’m good.” 

“Suit yourself, maybe next time then.” 

Teairra winked at him before turning to suck DeMarcus off again. She didn’t even shut the stall door. She was throating him with no hands all the way down to the base. DeMarcus threw his head back and groaned. Teairra dropped her hand from the stall door to grab DeMarcus by the balls. The door slowly closed, hiding them from sight. Erik walked out and he tried to shake the feeling of his hard dick pressed painfully against his jeans. 

“You good?” Toni asked. 

Leo gave Erik a weird look. Erik grabbed his Jean jacket and proceeded to slip it on. 

“E?” Leo tapped him on the arm, “What’s up?”

“…DeMarcus is getting his dick sucked by Teairra in the bathroom.” 

Toni and Leo looked at each other with big grins. They started laughing, too far gone off of whatever they were drinking. 

“Couldn’t even wait to get back to the hotel! Damn! She doesn’t waste time…”

“DeMarcus better clean himself off well before going back home to Yvette…” 

Erik checked the time on his phone. It was after 11 pm and he was jaded. 

“Listen, I’m about to head out.” Erik announced.

“So are we. I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” Leo said.

“Yeah, let me get back to Emerald.”

They all said their goodbyes with hugs and handshakes. Neither of them cared about DeMarcus or Teairra. They all knew he was going back to the hotel with her to finish. 

Sienna was dropped off at her apartment by one of her girl friends that she hadn’t seen in months due to school. Dressed in a dark wash denim mini dress with platform pink heels, Sienna waved goodbye, almost tripping in her shoes when she stepped up onto the curb. They shared a laugh before Sienna entered her building.

 She fixed the front of her dress, frustrated that it had slipped. Inside, Sienna rode the elevator up to her apartment and quickly made her way inside because her feet were killing her. She decided on a last minute dinner celebration and had one too many green tea shots. It felt like the room was spinning. She clumsily made her way over to one of her sofas, flopping down haphazardly before bending over to loosen the straps that wrapped around her calves. 

Giggling to herself, Sienna placed her shoes to the side so that she could stand. She walked towards the kitchen to grab herself some water and a liquid IV packet. She proceeded to mix it in a cup and afterwards she walked back to the living room. Sienna wasn’t quite ready to get in bed, too excited and turnt to rest. She was so close to the finish line. All of that hard work will finally pay off. In just a few short weeks, she’ll be graduating. Her pinning ceremony is within a week, and she had a photo shoot set up for her cap and gown pictures. 

Sienna drank her liquid IV and decided to put on some music. R&B playlist on, she stood up to go take off her dress and put on a robe. On her way to her room, Sienna’s phone buzzed. She sat her shoes down next to her bed and opened her bag to retrieve her phone. There, she could see that Erik was calling. She smiled to herself before accepting the call. 

“Are you home?” 

“Hello to you too, Sir,” Sienna rolled her eyes, “To answer your question, yes, I am. I just got in.” 

Sienna could tell that he was driving. 

“I’m on my way.” 

“Did you just get off work?” 

“No. I went out for drinks. I have a story to tell you.”

“I’m all ears.” 

“Aight, I’m five minutes out. I’ll see you when I get there.” 

“Okay, drive safely. Love you.” 

“Love you too, lil’ mama.” 

 Sienna had plans to do a late night Only Fans session. Maybe this could be the introduction into Erik being a part of it. Why not? That’s her man. She’d been doing sex work less and less since being with Erik and she missed it. She no longer needed the money, but the fantasy of so many people tuning in to watch her fuck her man turned her on something serious. That was her entire aesthetic anyway. Be a slutty sugar baby for an older man. And her boyfriend is all of that. 

Sienna took a quick shower and when she finished, she rubbed down with some scented body oil and Orphic body shimmer oil. Her makeup was still intact and she quickly set up to film. She could hear the door opening so she made her way out of the room, cracking the door. She secured her magenta, silk robe around her body and spotted Erik taking off his shoes and denim jacket. He looked delicious. She could smell his cologne from where she stood. His shoulder-length locs framed his handsome face, giving him a rugged look. 

“Hey, daddy…”

Erik’s onyx eyes fell on her and he paused, raking his eyes up and down her body. No matter how many times he saw her, she still got the same butterflies in her stomach. Sienna blushed as she made her way over to him. Arms up and around his shoulders, her robe slid open revealing some cleavage and a little thigh. Erik scooped her up, lifting her off of the floor with his arms circling her waist while she was pressed against him. Sienna gripped his face and leaned in for a kiss. They swapped spit and tongued each other down. Sienna could taste the top shelf bourbon on his tongue. She broke the kiss and stared into his eyes longingly while rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs.

“I missed you…I’m so proud of you.” 

“I missed you too. Thank you, daddy,” Sienna smiled, “How was your day?”

Erik walked over to the couch with her still in his arms. He carefully sat down, Sienna straddling his waist. Erik rubbed his hands up and down her ass over the silk robe repeatedly. He rested his head back against the sofa so that he could get a better look at her. His eyes were low and she could feel his brick hard dick against her pussy lips. 

“It was crazy. Back to back cases. I took a break after three cases to go down to Radiology and do some readings. I knocked that out in an hour. Went out for drinks…how was your day?”

Sienna toyed with his chain, “Amazing. I went out to eat and had drinks with a good friend of mine. I’m seeing her tomorrow too.”

“Sounds like a good time…”

Sienna gave Erik a timid smile. He pinched her cheek.

“So, what did you want to tell me?” 

“Oh,” Erik sat up, “So, I caught up with an old buddy of mine named DeMarcus. He worked the cases with me today, he’s an assistant anesthesia tech. Anyway, he invited me out and I invited Toni and Leo. Jamie couldn’t make it. So, DeMarcus invited Teairra…”

“…Teairra from work?” Sienna asked. 

“Yeah, the nurse. She came into the break room and caught up with DeMarcus. So, she showed up tonight with us at this bar called Blackbird. DeMarcus and Teairra have history…they used to mess around during overnight shifts back in the day…”

“Doesn’t Teairra have a crush on you?” 

Erik hesitated to respond. Sienna doesn’t like Teairra; she's too touchy-feely. Doesn’t know boundaries. Sienna already knew she was on that same type of shit tonight. She was visibly and rightfully annoyed. 

“Why was she even there with a bunch of men? Like what did she think was going to happen? Spinning on all y’all dicks?” Sienna argued. 

“Baby, calm down. She tried it but I wasn’t giving her the satisfaction. She ended up sucking dick in the bathroom before I left anyway…DeMarcus. And he’s married with kids. He’s been cheating on his girl for a while now…”

“I’m irritated. Did she touch you?” 

Erik’s eyes bore into Sienna’s. 

“She kind of…stroked my arm…that’s it. Everything else was just staring me down…”

Sienna’s brows snapped together. She was pissed. Erik tried to sooth her by stroking her arms. 

“How did you know she was sucking dick in the bathroom?”

Erik observed her body language closely. Despite her being upset, he was so turned on in the moment. She was doing things to him with that cute frown on her face and the bratty tone of her voice. It was rare that he’d witnessed Sienna like this. 

“…I saw them. I saw her sucking his dick…she pushed open the door to the stall so I could see…”

Sienna drew her bottom lip into her mouth and looked up at the ceiling. She folded her arms beneath her breast causing them to sit up and point out at Erik’s face. He could see her nipples straining against the silk. He licked his lips and fought the urge to yank that robe open and suck on her nipples.

“Sienna?” 

“What?” 

She looked down at him finally with a screwed up face. 

“I told you, nothing happened. Why are you so upset?” 

She unfolded her arms and her breasts bounced.

“Because, I don’t like her. She wants you and you’re mine. You’re my daddy…”

She pouted and went to lift from Erik. He trapped her with his hands on her waist. 

“Sienna, look at me…”

She exhaled before rolling her eyes down towards him. 

“Are you sassing me, lil’ mama?” 

“Why did you watch? Did you like watching her suck dick?”

Erik looked Sienna up and down. He did. It turned him on. It’s not like he wanted Teairra to suck his dick. Erik has a serious voyeurism fetish. Sienna knows this. She does as well. 

“Baby girl…I’m not gonna lie to you…it did turn me on. But, I don’t want her, I want you.”

Erik stroked Sienna’s chin while she stared into his eyes. 

“I am your daddy. And you’re my baby.” 

“…she wants you so bad. But you’re mine.” 

“I am,” Erik smirked, “I am yours. All of me. She wanted to taste this dick and see how pretty it is…her loss.” 

Sienna shifted her hips on Erik. His dick was practically knocking at the seam of his pants to be freed. He needed to be ten inches and balls deep in her tight wet puss expeditiously. 

“She said that?” Sienna questioned.

“Yeah…all while sucking his dick.” 

Sienna scowled. 

“That bitch…”

“That bitch ain’t getting this dick though. You know why…”

Sienna looked into Erik’s eyes.

“That’s my dick.” 

“Mhm…your dick, Princess. All yours…”

“And she can’t have it…”

Erik licked his lips. Sienna reached between them so she could grip Erik’s bulge. She made a whimper sound in her throat that had Erik biting his lip hard. He wanted to hear her make that sound on a never ending loop while he beat that pussy up. 

“Daddy…I’m taking that dick right now.” 

Sienna pushed off of Erik and took off her robe. Erik watched that robe fall from her body and the way her skin glowed and glistened with whatever she put on had him stuck. He couldn’t look away. 

“Damn, baby…”

He reached out to touch her but Sienna smacked his hand away. Erik cut his eyes at her, staring at her like she lost her mind. 

“You don’t get to touch me yet. You owe me for what you did tonight. That dick belongs to me…”

So, she was going to dominate him? Erik could only size her up with a half, dimpled smirk. That won’t last. She’s too much of a submissive. All Erik has to do is whip his big boy out and she’s on her knees. 

“I have a surprise for you in the room, daddy…”

Erik didn’t hesitate to push himself off of the sofa. Fixing his strained erection, he followed Sienna to her room. She pushed the door open and Erik walked in. His eyes scanned the room and he noticed that she’d set up to film. He looked at her with an arched brow. Sienna walked out of her closet after two minutes wearing knee-high white socks with pink bows on them and matching kitten ears. 

“Get undressed. I want you to lay on your back…”

Erik took his time taking off his clothes. With only his briefs left, he didn’t tear his eyes away from Sienna while he pushed them past his hips. That big dick sprung free and bounced between his legs. Sienna’s eyes followed the motion of his balls and dick swaying back and forth. So pretty and smooth with bulging veins and a fat tip. She could feel her walls clenching in preparation.

“Mmm…it’s definitely pretty…”

Sienna crawled onto the bed and turned around so that Erik could have a view of her pussy from the back. Sienna arched her back deep and when she did, her cheeks spread and he could see an opal butt plug in her ass. He sucked his lip into his mouth and grunted. 

“That fat pussy is wet, baby girl…that plug is beautiful in that ass too…mm…you tryna tell daddy something?”

“I’ve been training with my plugs because I want you to fuck me in my ass…”

Sienna spread her cheeks with her hand and that pink puss spread open. She was dripping. That clit was nice and hard, her labia glistened and begged to be sucked on, and her wet hole wouldn’t stop leaking. So juicy and ready for his tongue and dick. 

“Sienna…” Erik wrapped a fist around his dick and jerked. 

“I want you to lay back daddy so I can ride your face…”

Sienna made room for Erik to climb in bed. She had the camera facing away so his face wouldn’t be revealed, only seeing his lower half. He laid back against her pillows and Sienna got on top of him. They were in a 69 position. Erik’s girthy length was definitely camera ready. The ring light made the vein on the underside of his dick pop out. Sienna could feel him spreading her wide to the point where she could feel cool air on her clit. 

“Mmm, yes, eat that young pussy…gobble it up…”

Sienna stared into the camera while Erik’s big dick sat against her cheek. She rubbed her face along his length like a dick-crazed slut. Her tongue swiped from his balls all the way to the tip. With each pass of her tongue, she would leave behind a trail of spit that shined. 

“I love this big, daddy dick so much…”

Sienna opened up and sat his dick in the back of her throat. She made herself gag on it. Erik was busy sucking on her pussy. Sienna sucked long and hard while cupping his balls in her hand. She would push up on his sack to force-feed her throat some dick. She became cross-eyed in a slut-induced trance. Her lips popped off when Erik started slurping loudly while spanking her ass. 

“Yes! Mmm…daddy…keep doing that…you love the way my pussy tastes? Hmm?” 

Sienna lifted her hips so she could rock back and forth on Erik’s tongue while sucking his dick. Each time her pussy would meet his tongue, Erik would swipe and flick her clit. 

“I love the way your tongue feels on my pussy…”

His big dick was back in her mouth like it never left. With a roll of her neck and a tighter grip of her lips, Sienna sucked like her life depended on it. Saliva formed bubbles that trailed down to Erik’s balls. She had his ass then. He popped his thick lips off her folds and moaned into her pussy.

“Uhhhh, fuck…suck that fuckin’ dick, Princess. Eat daddy’s dick up…fuuuuckkkkkkk….”

Erik went back to feasting on Sienna’s pussy. His tongue caught her creamy lips and he cleaned her up before sucking her clit again to produce more. She was a mess. His lips were covered in her arousal. The most he’d ever witnessed. This Onlyfans shit must be a huge turn on for her. 

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum in your mouth!” 

Sienna jerked Erik’s spit-covered dick while her face frowned with ecstasy. Her body shook with her release, Erik’s face practically between her cheeks. He didn’t stop eating her pussy. Sienna slurped on Erik’s tip while fisting his dick and she could see his thigh muscles contract and his toes curl. He was about to give her a nut to remember. 

“Give me that nut daddy…I want it all over my face…”

“Mhmmmmm,” Erik could only hum because Sienna’s hefty cheeks were sitting on his face. 

“It’s so thick…I can feel it swelling in my hand…this big dick…cum for me…give me that cum…I want it…”

“Hmm! Mmm! Hmm!”

His cum shot out from his slit and landed all over her chin and lips. The more she jerked and sucked, the more he came. That creamy, white nut trickled down to his balls and Sienna didn’t leave any of it behind. She stared into the camera with her doe eyes while covered in cum. 

She lifted off of his face so he could breath and Erik sat up while Sienna moved to his side so that they could focus on his dick. He was still rock hard, dick saluted and balls tight. He was ready for more, and it always amazed Sienna how much stamina he had for his age. He could go multiple rounds and keep up with her. 

Jerking his dick, Sienna and Erik kissed, aware that his cum was still on her face. Sienna broke the kiss and stared Erik in the eyes while slowly beating his dick. 

“Who’s dick is this?” She whispered seductively.

Erik licked his lips, “Yours…”

“This my dick, daddy?” 

“Mhm…”

Sienna started licking and sucking on Erik’s neck.

“I wanna ride my dick…”

“You better ride it all the way, baby girl…”

“That’s how I do it, I want all this dick in my pussy…”

Erik smirked at her, “I wanna feel that pussy deep. If you gon’ take charge, you better do it right or I’m a fuck you myself.”

“When have I ever backed down from a challenge? Hmm?” Sienna replied sassily.

“Let’s not get bold for your fans, Princess. You know daddy have that ass crying. I’m extra hard right now too,” Erik took it upon himself to show her just how hard, “Don’t think because that puss nice and ripe I won’t dig you a new fuckin’ hole.” 

Sienna almost came from his words alone. Such a nasty man. She could only whimper as she threw one thick leg over him to straddle him. Erik’s wide palm with outstretched fingers whacked each mocha cheek with force. The feeling of his hand spanking her sent a vibration down to her clit. 

“Do that again, Unh,” Sienna arched her back over Erik and started twerking her ass. Erik alternates his spanking, his hand coming down with force. Her flesh stung so good and the closer his hands were to her pussy, the more she leaked. 

“Put this dick in, Sienna. Hurry up.” 

Whack! Whack! Whack! 

“C’mon, lil mama. Get on this dick before you make me mad.” 

She did as she was told even though she was supposed to be the one dominating him. Sienna pointed his tip at her opening and she thrust her hips back so he could slide in. He looked into her eyes and she looked at him with a stuck expression on her face. 

“Mhm,” whack! “Ride this fat dick.” 

“This dick feels so much bigger inside of me!” 

Her ass sat on his balls. Sienna positioned herself so she could rock back on him. Planting her hands against the bed, Sienna started bouncing. Her ass ricocheted and created a loud collision. Erik kept his arms outstretched, fighting the urge to grab her waist, plant his feet into the mattress, and ram his dick in. She was doing her thing though, wetting his dick up good. 

“That’s it, fuck this dick, Princess. Good girl…show me this dick is yours…get down on this dick…”

“Yes! Oh, fuck,” Sienna felt chills all over, “It’s hitting my spot!”

They could both tell. Erik could feel her walls repeatedly squeeze him and the way he glided in and out of her pussy had his lip poked out and his eyes low. That pussy was creamin’ all over his dick. Sienna could feel nothing but his thick pole wet and hard going in and out of her never ending. It sent tingles all throughout her pussy. 

Sienna looked back and she gasped. Creamy and wet. It was a beautiful sight. She was loving that dick in her pussy so much that she had to get up on her feet to ride it. Erik made a fist with his hands. A deep growl rumbled in his chest. Sienna looked down at him with spit hanging from her mouth and her eyes crossing. She was cumming.

“Look at that dumb, stuck look on your fuckin’ face. You cummin’ ain’t you? Huh?!”

Whack! Whack! Whack! 

“Shitttttttttttttt—”

Sienna came down on Erik’s dick and squirted. Her body convulsed out of control. Erik had to hold her in place, afraid that she would fall off. The mess she made was nothing but a sticky, creamy, puddle. Erik’s dick slipped out of her wet hole and he sat up on his elbows to admire it. Damn, he wanted to taste it. His tongue ached to taste it. With a glint in his eye, Erik gave Sienna a look that told her ‘end this Onlyfans shit right fucking now’. Sienna took the hint and ended the recording, planning to upload it later. 

“I want you to look at all this mess you made on me…”

Sienna peered down at Erik’s dick. She formed a crease in her brow while sucking on her finger. 

“Clean your mess up. Get down there and clean this dick off.” Erik barked out. 

Sienna didn’t hesitate to put her face between his legs and clean his big dick off. Erik was still solid and ready for more. 

“Yeah…you know not to forget these nuts…now, who’s in charge?”

Sienna pulled her lips off of his sack to stare at him.

“You.” She replied with a small voice. 

“Show me that pretty ass pussy…”

Sienna turned to face him. She leaned back on her hands, got up on her feet, and spread her thighs. That flower opened up and all he could see was a wet and gushy mess. It was all over her lips, clit, and inner thighs. 

“Damn…lil’ mama…”

Erik sat up and got down on his knees on the floor. He dragged Sienna towards the edge of the bed and instructed her to stay just like that. Pussy opened wide, legs pushed out, and eyes on him. Erik looked up at her through his lashes, curled his long tongue, and licked to his heart's desire. Sienna chewed on her bottom lip and fought the urge to close her eyes. He cleaned off her inner thighs so attentively. Each pussy lip he would suck into his mouth leaving behind a trail of spit. This man was a fucking pussy monster. She couldn’t hold her weight anymore. That didn’t fucking matter to Erik, he had her knees by her ears and his plump lips all over her pussy. 

“Daddy…daddy, please,” Sienna cried. 

Literal tears streamed down her face. It was that good and that overwhelming. Her inner thighs bounced out of control and she gave into the feeling as his lips sucked her clit. One weak hand reached out to put his locs into a tight grip. 

“Unhhhhh, uhhh, unhhhh, unh—uh-–uhn–uhhhhh—”

She cried with her release. Erik kissed up her stomach until he was face to face with her. He tongued her down before dragging his tongue down her neck and then he gripped her titties, pushed them together, and feasted on them. This fine ass, grown man knew how to make her body feel and do things she’d never experienced. It was overwhelming and refreshing at the same time. 

“Keep your legs open just like this…this how I’m fucking you now…”

“Huhhhhh—”

He was back inside and balls deep. Erik sat up, locs swinging in his face, built body working overtime to fuck her. He had her ankles pinned back so she couldn’t move. Sienna clawed the sheets and stared down the valley of her body at Erik beating her pussy up. 

“Such a big girl…mmm…you take dick so good, baby…just how daddy likes it…ready for this dick all right…dick hittin’ that pussy, yeah?” 

She was squirting again but Erik fucked through all of that. 

“I want that ass next.” 

His tone was rough. She couldn’t wait. 

“I can’t wait—daddy!”

Erik held his dick deep and thumbed her clit. She came again. 

“Look at this shit…”

Erik withdrew his hips and Sienna looked down at how messy his dick was. He moved his hips so that his dick could glide between her folds. 

“I'm taking this plug out now, okay?” 

Erik didn’t wait for her response. He gently tugged and the tight sphincter of her anus contracted. She moaned at the sensation, more than ready to feel his dick in her ass. She’d prepared for this moment long enough. It was time. She showed him where her lube is and Erik made sure to use enough to make the experience more enjoyable.

“Aight, turn around and arch your back…”

Sienna got into position. Erik folded her legs and climbed onto the bed, standing above her. He crouched down and aimed his dick for her ass. His tip sat at her ass and then he pushed, her back-door entrance opening. She. Clenched up and sucked him in, Erik hissing from the sensation. 

“Oh my goodness…”

Sienna exhaled, relaxing her body while Erik pushed deeper. 

“It’s going in my ass…fuck, it’s going in my ass…”

Mouth hanging open, eyes wide, Sienna could only look up at Erik. He caught her eye and winked at her with a lick of his lips. He was finally all the way inside.

“Tight ass…damn, damn, damn….”

He pulled back and Sienna gasped. 

“Spread your legs…keep that ass open, Princess.”

“It’s so much…”

“I know, but it feels good, right?”

“Yes…”

It was such a great feeling. 

“Let me dig this ass out…”

He increased the tempo. Sienna gripped the sheets. To feel his big dick from tip to base go in and out of her had her speechless. Erik got down on his knees behind her and kept her cheeks spread open with his large hands. Now, he was going faster. Sienna drooled onto the bed.

“Fuck my ass, daddy…”

“Fuck this ass? You want me to dig you out?” 

“Please!” 

Clap! Clap! Clap! 

“OH FUCKKKKK!!!!!!!”

Erik had Sienna by her shoulders. Tears streamed down her cheeks while her ass continued to get pounded out. 

“FUCK MY ASS GOOD, DADDY!” 

Her pussy leaked. Erik noticed and swiped his thumb between her folds until he found her clit. With all her wetness, he flicked her clit with his thumb. 

“That clit is nice and fat right now. Ass so fuckin’ tight…gotta open this tight shit up.” 

“You fuck ass like that?!” 

Sienna was astonished. She loved anal. This man could use all her holes. She wasn’t letting him go. He was the complete package. He pinched and tugged on her hanging clit and labia and that sensation mixed with his dick pounding her ass out had Sienna seeing the galaxy. 

“You nasty, good pussy, tight ass, deep throat slut!!!!”

She loved his degradation. 

“I’m your nasty slut!—”

“As long as you know who the fuck you belong to! Ugh!”

“Are you cumming daddy?! Please cum in my ass! Please!”

“I fuckin’ love you!”

Erik’s balls slapped Sienna’s clit harder. Harder and harder. He was about to explode. Her asshole got the pounding of her life. She buried her face into the sheets as sweat poured from her body. 

“Ugh! FUCK!”

Hot cum filled her ass. She was dizzy with lust and her body ached for more.

“Daddy…fill my ass…” 

“Gahdamn, Sienna…”

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[spencerxalvez]

spencer reid x fem!reader microfic; 600 words; fluff, athletic reader, slice of life

His chest heaves; every breath tears from his lungs in soft, desperate pants for air. There’s a thin sheen of warm sweat that’s forming over his body: at his hairline, catching in his curls; in the crevices of soft skin at his knees and elbows; along the dip at the center of his back, dripping over his spine. The muscles in his legs tremble delicately, quivering with exertion and threatening to give out.

But there’s her.

He closes his eyes briefly and the image of her remains— all unexpected strength in lithe muscles; soft skin; breath that comes easy and a voice that drifts like summer.

“Need to—” he gasps.

He can tell she’s watching him as he stops moving and the world tilts around him.

“What do you need, Spence?” she asks.

He puts his hands on his knees and looks up into the sunlight, squinting at her. The world rights itself; she’s standing at the center of the path, her hands on her hips and her ponytail caught in the breeze that chills the sweat on his back and makes him shiver unpleasantly. She’s dressed in a matching athletic set and her favorite worn-in running shoes, the hem of the top in line with her just-visible abdominal muscles.

She’s smiling at him, barely out of breath at all.

“Water?” she asks, too sweetly. Spencer swallows hard and shakes his head; he sort of thinks if he tries to drink right now, he might throw up. Instead, he moves toward the grass and tumbles onto it. He hates sitting on the ground, but at the moment anything is preferable to being on his legs. She laughs as he collapses to the earth, and gamely takes a seat next to him.

“How do you do this every day?” he groans eventually.

“I don’t run every day,” she answers reasonably. “Sometimes I take barre.”

Spencer does his best to glare at her. It’s hard, when she’s smiling like that.

“I might be dying,” Spencer croaks, flopping down onto his back and flinging his arm over his eyes.

“You know,” she says thoughtfully, “when I asked you to go running with me, I thought you’d be a little more in shape.”

Spencer peers out at her from beneath his arm, incredulous.

“What ever gave you that impression?” he asks.

She shrugs. “You’re an FBI agent,” she says. “Don’t you have like, physical mandates and stuff?”

Spencer covers his eyes again. “I’ve been avoiding them every year since the one time that Morgan tried to help Garcia and I train,” he says.

“Spencer Reid,” she gasps. “Are you admitting to being a cheater? Deceiving the Federal Bureau of Investigation? In broad daylight?”

“Stop,” Spencer groans, half-laughing. “Actually, there’s only a twelve-point minimum score required to pass the FBI’s physical fitness test. Mathematically, I can afford to score only—”

She has been running for a mile. Miraculously, when she kisses him, she still tastes like the strawberry jam she ate in her kitchen this morning.

When she pulls away, she’s smiling.

“We should do this more often,” she says. “So that maybe you can actually pass it next time. Oh, and you should definitely try something like—”

This time, it’s his kiss that cuts her off. She smiles into it like she’d wanted him to do it all along, and when they pull apart she’s still beaming.

“Race you,” she says.

And then she’s gone. And Spencer— well, like always, Spencer follows.

[lxndonorris]

racing surprise for Lando - Lando Norris (SFS24)

fem!reader x Lando Norris Theme: Smut (you've been warned) in the midst of pre-season testing, Mclaren invited you to surprise Lando x word count: 2710+ taglist: @game-set-canet another edition to the suit fitting saga 2024 (SFS24). Quite similar but I hope you like the added twist. Oh and I needed that picture so dont blame me. Next one will hopefully be este, and if you have any request, for SFS24, testing or simply something else, dont be shy and hit me up!

The air crackles with anticipation as the new season of Formula 1 looms on the horizon, heralding a fresh chapter in Lando Norris's illustrious career as a professional racing driver. With the promise of new gear, a state-of-the-art racing suit, a meticulously crafted helmet, and a gleaming Mclaren race car awaiting him, excitement pulses through his veins like the roar of an engine.

Amidst the flurry of activity in the Mclaren garage, you stand, a silent observer disguised as one of the team members. Dressed in the team's iconic orange shirt, dark pants, a cap, and sporting a headset, you blend seamlessly into the backdrop, your heart aflutter with anticipation as you await Lando's arrival.

He initially invited you himself to join him here, but you had to decline. Unbeknownst to him, his team has already reached out to you, preparing a surprise for your boyfriend. 

And then, like a whirlwind of energy and charisma, he enters the scene. Clad in his new racing suit, adorned with sponsor logos, he cuts a stroking figure. The fabric hugs his form in all the right places, accentuating his athletic build with precision and care. His curly locks framed his face, adding a touch of boyish charm to his rugged allure.

As Lando moves through the garage, his presence commands attention. There is confidence in his stride, a swagger in his step that speaks volumes about his self-assurance. He greets everyone with a warm smile and a handshake; his enthusiasm infectious. There is a genuine camaraderie between them, a sense of unity forged by their shared passion for racing.

With the assistance of two friendly mechanics who shield you from view, you watch as Lando prepares for his testing session. The air is thick with excitement and tension, a tangible buzz of anticipation that electrifies the atmosphere. The scent of his cologne lingers in the air, a subtle reminder of his proximity that sends shivers down your spine.

Each step Lando takes seems to echo purpose, his eyes alight with a belnd of determination and curiosity.

You watch from your vantage point, hidden in plain sight among the team members. As a conversation turns to the upcoming training session, Lando's demeanor shifts slightly. A curious, shy smile played on his lips as he listens closely. With a hand on his hip, he leans in slightly, his posture relaxed yet attentive.

There is a quiet determination in his gaze, a hunger to extract every ounce of potential from the testing session. He understands the importance of these moments, recognizing them as opportunities to fine-tune his skills and familiarize himself with the nuances of the new car.

You can't help but admire the way the fabric hugs his body tightly, emphasizing the curves of his backside and the strength of his arms. His movements are fluid and purposeful, each gesture imbued with quiet confidence.

With each glance, your eyes trace the lines of his suit, lingering on the subtle details that hint at the layers beneath. You know that beneath the sleek exterior lies a network of tight undergarments—fireproofs designed to protect him.

This knowledge adds an extra layer of allure to his already magnetic presence, heightening the intensity of your admiration.

As the conversation draws to a close, Lando offers a grateful nod to his mechanics. With a sense of purpose, he turns his attention toward the track, eager to put their plans into action and unleash the full extent of his talents.

With practiced ease, Lando slips into the remaining racing gear—his gloves and a tight balaclava—each movement deliberate and precise. The helmet, adorned with beautiful colors and logos, completes his ensemble, its glossy surface reflecting the glow of excitement in his eyes.

With a playful twirl, he settles into the driver's seat, his grin widening as he prepares to start testing. With a loud roar, the engine comes to life, and slowly but steadily, he makes his way out of the garage. Your stomach tightens in a mixture of anticipation and pride.

Through the crackle of the radio, his voice rings out, a symphony of exhilaration as he tackles each corner with precision and finesse. You listen intently, your heart swelling with joy as he pushes the limits of his Mclaren. You know he is so happy to be back, and you can actually see him smiling when you close your eyes. His voice is a little rougher, yet it carries his joy and passion through the radio.

Once his session is over, he returns to the garage. As Lando emerges from the cockpit of his Mclaren, he lets out a jubilant cheer with a triumphant flex of his arms. Shaking your head, you can't believe him actually doing that. Licking your lips, you still can't tear your eyes away from his arse, filling his suit fully.

The testing had been a success, and he surpassed all expectations. Running a hand across his chest, he can't help but revel in the rush of adrenaline that still courses through his veins. The fabric of his racing suit clings to him, damp with sweat from the intensity of the session—a sensational sight that you missed during the winter break.

In one swift movement, he reaches up to remove his helmet and balaclava, revealing a mop of tousled curls and a flushed complexion beneath. His lips part slightly with a satsified smirk, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he licks his lips, sending shivers down your spine. He looks so happy and excited, and you smile seeing him like that.

As he moves through the garage, shaking hands with his team members, he can't contain his joy. His tongue darts out playfully, a gesture of exuberance that shows his satisfaction with the achievements so far.

Lando chats with a few mechanics for a while, and you can tell the residual excitement from the testing session continues to surge through his veins, pulsating with every beat of his heart. He keeps stroking his chest, touching his arms, and subconsciously, he touches himself through his suit—just barely, yet it catches your attention. 

It is as if the adrenaline of the track has infused his very being, filling him with an exhilarating energy that seems to amplify with each passing moment.

Entranced by his every move, the sound of his voice, and his cologne's scent still hovering all around you, you miss the opportunity to reveal yourself—Lando has already left for his private quarters.

Leaving your headset and cap behind, you rush after him and spot him strolling through the paddock. Unable to tear your eyes away from him, captivated by the effortless grace with which he moved, you follow him. Every step seems to exude confidence, joy, and self-confidence.

As he runs a hand through his messy curls, you can't help but notice the way his hair fell in disarray, framing his face in a way that is both endearing and alluring. There is a rawness to his appearance—a sense of vulnerability—that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

And then, as if sensing your gaze, he runs a hand across his chest, a subtle gesture that speaks volumes about the excitement still running through his body. You can almost feel the electric energy radiating off him, a tangible reminder of the thrill of driving an F1 car.

In this moment, you are struck by the sheer magnetism of his presence, even though you're just looking at his beautiful back. And as he disappears into his quarters, leaving you to ponder the whirlwind of emitions he had stirred within you, you can't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration.

As you knock on his door, a nervous anticipation grips you, your heart pounding with uncertainty—how is he going to react?

"Coming." Lando's voice echoes through the door before it swings open, revealing your boyfriend standing right in front of you. With an almost shocked expression, your breath catches in your throat.

"Y/N?" He asks, and in an instant, his entire face lit up with a radiant smile that reaches his eyes, filling you with warmth and joy. 

"Hi." You smile shyly, your face flushing with heat. 

Without hesitation, he pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms enveloping you closely. You melt into him, running your hands across his firm back.

"What are you doing here?" Lando smiles, separating himself just enough for his face to be mere inches away from yours. He places a hand on your cheek, tracing your skin with his fingertips.

"Surprising you." You motion for a few Mclaren team members to film the two of you from afar. 

Both of you turn your heads and wave toward the camera. 

"They offered to get me here; we just needed a few clips for their channel." You shrug, and he nods in agreement and curiousity.

"This is great," he leans into you, kissing you gently. You lock eyes with him for what feels like an eternity.

The film crew gives you a thumbs up, telling you that it's now time for some alone time. 

As Lando welcomes you into his private quarters, a rush of excitement surges through you, mingling with the lingering traces of adrenaline from his testing session. Your gaze is drawn irresistibly to the contours of his chest, the fabric of his racing suit accentuating every curve and sinew.

He meets your gaze with a knowing smile, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes as he senses the admiration and desire in your gaze. There is confidence in his demeanor, a quiet assurance that speaks of his comfort in his own skin.

"So, how was I?" With a playful grin, he steps closer, closing the distance between you until the warmth of his presence envelops you.

"Amazing." You lift your chin slightly, meeting his confidence with your own. "And you look the part too." Smirking, you lick your lips.

Without a word, he takes your hand and guides it to the fabric of his suit, allowing you to feel the sleek material beneath your fingertips.

"I know how much you like this on me," Lando breathes, locking his eyes with your own. However, you're unable to withstand his burning gaze and lower your eyes, following the movements of your hands instead.

As your hand traces the lines of his chest and arms, you can't help but marvel at the strength and resilience that lie beneath the surface. The fabric is cool to the touch, yet it seems to hum with the energy of the track, a tangible reminder of the passion and dedication that fuel his every movement.

"This feels so good." You breathe deeply while you keep stroking his chest, feeling his biceps, and watch his chest move with every breath he takes, eliciting a low rumble of pleasure deep down his throat.

"Fuck," Lando can't hold back a low moan, his hand now following yours closely, his body yearning for so much more. He leans his head back, embracing both of your hands now on his chest.

You know how much he loves to be teased, touched, and stroked. Effortlessly, you push all of his buttons and his most sensitive spots—his nipples, pecs, arms, and most importantly, his member filling his suit.

"Good." You whisper, leaning in to him, tracing the outlines of his stubble just above his lips. A shiver races down your spine, the rough texture of his beard contrasting with the softness of your touch. There is something undeniably alluring about the way his beard frames his lips, adding a touch of raw sensuality to his appearance. 

With each passing moment, the desire to feel the roughness of his stubble against your skin grows stronger—a primal urge that threatens to consume you completely. You lean in, brushing your lips against his in a tender caress. The sensation of his beard against your skin sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

With your hand on his crotch, he moans softly against your lips. Lost in the heat of the moment, you surrender yourself to the heady rush of emotions. Your lips meet in a fervent kiss, craving his delicious taste.

"Y/N." Lando murmurs, his hands now steady on your waist, holding you close.

"Care to give me a show?" You bite his lower lip teasingly, causing him to chuckle. "I want to see all of you in that." Tugging at the zipper of his racing suit, you stroke him firmer, encouraging him to show off.

"Of course." He giggles, and you settle onto the sofa, anticipation tingling in the air, thick with the electricity of the moment. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Lando takes center stage, spreading your legs to make some space. His movements are fluid and confident as he begins his private show.

With each flex of his muscles, his form seems to come alive, the contours of his body highlighted by the sleek fabric of his racing suit. He lets you feel his muscles tense, letting out more guttural growls.

"Very good." You smile, and with a playful smirk dancing on his lips, he turns around, giving you a tantalizing glimpse of his firm back and arse. He bends to show off his butt even more, much to your amusement. 

And then, with a sudden burst of energy, he begins to dance, his movements a mesmerizing combination of grace and athleticism. His hips sway to an invisible rhythm, and his body moves with a natural ease that shows off his innate charisma and confidence.

As he twirls and turns, the fabric of his suit seems to come alive as well, clinging to his form as he moves with effortless grace. With a slow and deliberate motion, he reaches for the zipper, his fingers tracing the line with teasing slowness.

As Lando slowly unzips his suit, his eyes never leave yours; their intensity like a flame igniting the air between you. His gaze is electric, a silnt invitation that sends shivers down your entire back. Hidden beneath his beautiful eyes lies hunger—a raw desire that mirrors the heat pulsating through your veins.

With each inch of fabric that melts away, inch by inch, he reveals the tight garments—a glimpse of the tight fireproofs. Easily, he slips out of the upper half of his suit, giving you a good look at his chest. His defined muscles barely conceiled, he flexes again, straining the fabric even more. 

Lando closes the distance between you until you feel the warmth of his body radiating against your skin. His gaze is never wavering, pulling you so much closer.

"Fuck." You reach for his chest, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs, as he licks his lips. With the sleeves of his suit dangling down his waist, he stands before you, his form outlined against the soft glow of the room, a vision of strength and sensuality that takes your breath away.

In that moment, as you drink in the sight of him, you know you want him. 

You motion for him to sit down right next to you, and right away, you lean in, kissing him passionately.

Lando embraces your body against his, and at the same time, your hand slips underneath his suit. His skin is warm and tight; all of the tension is showing its effect on his body.

"Mhmmm." He purrs into your mouth, one of his hands firmly on his length, bulging against his clothes.

In one swift motion, you manage to get into his pants and pull his member out of his clothes, causing him to moan in agreement.

"That would be so good, Y/N." Fully aware of what you're about to do, you keep kissing him while simultaneously running your hand up and down his length.

With every breath he takes, Lando lets out guttural groans before leaning his head back against the sofa cushions.

Looking into his eyes, you bend down and take him into your mouth. 

"That's what I meant." He swallows hard, running a hand through your hair.

Together, you easily catch up to each other's rhythm, moving as one. His husky, rough voice echoes through your mind as more and more drops of his taste cover your tongue. 

Then, his body gets stiff and rigid, and he holds his breath before letting go of all this tension, pressure, and desire. It feels so good. Letting out a long, breathless moan, he relaxes quickly, leaning back even more. You let go of him, licking your lips to savor the taste.

Lando fondles with himself for a while while you catch your breath.

"This was so good." You sigh deeply before a chuckle leaves your wet lips. He smirks, leans in, and kisses you.

"Thank you for being here." Lando rubs his nose against yours gently.

[hypnogold]

The Photoshoot

The gymnasium buzzed with anticipation. Every student and teacher in Westbrook High lined up for the annual school photoshoot, unaware of the monumental changes awaiting them. Walter, the team manager and photographer, with his recruiters stood calmly behind his camera, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd for those who would soon join the ranks of the golden team.

On a table beside him sat various golden items: backwards baseball caps, long shiny track pants, headbands, jackets—each shimmering in the gym lights. Walter smiled, knowing that soon, these wouldn’t just be props; they would mark the beginning of something much bigger.

The first student stepped forward—Jake, a quiet sophomore who had no idea his life was about to change. Walter reached into the box and pulled out a golden backwards baseball cap with the number 7 stitched on the back. He placed it on Jake’s head with a knowing smile.

As soon as the cap settled, Jake felt an odd warmth. His mind buzzed with confusion, but before he could react, Walter snapped the photo. The flash was blinding, and in an instant, Jake’s entire body seemed to shift.

The baseball cap tightened on his head. His jeans transformed into sleek golden athletic pants, and a matching jersey appeared beneath the jacket, emblazoned with his new number. He looked down, wide-eyed, as golden armbands formed around his biceps. The transformation wasn’t just physical; Jake’s thoughts were changing, too. He felt faster, more agile. His old life was fading, replaced by the single, overpowering identity of Striker 7.

Jake blinked, his face lighting up with a confident smile he didn’t know he had. “I’m ready,” he said, his voice sounding stronger than before. The transformation was complete. He was no longer Jake—he was Striker 7.

“Next,” Walter called, motioning for the next student to step forward.

One by one, they came. Scott, a tall senior, was handed a pair of long shiny golden track pants. As soon as Walter’s camera clicked, the transformation began. Scott’s regular clothes dissolved into shimmering fabric as his golden track pants fully materialized, tight-fitting and sleek. Scott suddenly felt larger, stronger, like an impenetrable force. His mind narrowed to one focus: defense.

His transformation finished when the number 5 stitched itself into his jersey. He stood taller, his posture that of someone who knew how to protect. His body was no longer his own—it belonged to the golden team.

The line moved quickly now. Students and teachers alike stepped up, receiving their golden items and instantly shifting into their new roles with each flash of the camera. Some were handed golden headbands or sweatbands, which transformed them into midfielders, their regular clothes shifting into practical, utility-filled vests and tight shorts. The headbands glowed with their new numbers, marking them as the vital connectors in the team’s strategy.

Teachers were not spared. Mr. Elijah, the usually reserved history teacher, was handed a golden jersey with padded shoulders. He hesitated, but the moment Walter took his photo, the transformation hit him like a wave. His professional attire melted away, replaced by the golden kit of a goalkeeper. His number, 1, gleamed on his back, and golden gloves appeared on his hands. His mind, once filled with thoughts of lesson plans and history lectures, now focused solely on guarding the team.

With every click of the camera, more students and staff transformed, their clothes shifting instantly to match their new roles. Strikers in their golden caps and light jackets; defenders in long, sleek track pants; midfielders in their headbands; goalkeepers with padded jackets and gloves. The gym echoed with the sound of footsteps as each transformed person stepped aside, ready to receive further instructions.

When the photoshoot ended, a hushed silence fell over the gym. Walter looked around, satisfied. The entire school stood before him, dressed in their newly assigned golden gear, their old identities replaced with numbers and roles.

Strikers:

Midfielders:

Defense:

Goalkeepers:

Walter clapped his hands. “Now that you’ve all been assigned your positions,” he announced, “it’s time for the final step. Please, step through the door that corresponds with your new role.”

At the far end of the gym, four doors stood open, each gleaming with golden light. Above each door was a symbol: a golden baseball cap for the strikers, a golden shield for the defenders, a golden field for the midfielders, and a golden goalpost for the goalkeepers.

Jake, now Striker 7, felt an inexplicable pull toward the door marked with the golden baseball cap. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, walking through the door. Inside, the air was warm and welcoming. The room was filled with other strikers, each wearing their caps proudly. A sense of brotherhood washed over Jake as he was welcomed with open arms.

“You’re one of us now,” Brody, Striker 9, said with a grin, clapping Jake on the back. The camaraderie was instant. This was his place. This was where he belonged.

Meanwhile, Scott walked toward the door marked with the golden shield. As he stepped inside, the room felt heavier, more grounded. Defenders lined the walls, standing tall and strong. Scott felt a sense of pride swell within him. He was one of them now—part of the impenetrable wall that would protect the team at all costs.

“Welcome to the defense,” said a deep voice. It was Coach Richard, the head of the team, standing at the far end of the room. Scott nodded, already feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders.

Travis, wearing his golden headband, entered the midfielder’s door, where he was met with cheers from other midfielders, all wearing their golden vests. They clapped him on the back, already seeing him as one of their own. Travis smiled, feeling like he was part of something bigger than himself.

And in the goalkeeper’s room, Mr. Elijah stood alongside other goalkeepers, each wearing padded jackets and golden gloves. The room was quieter, more focused, but the intensity in the air was palpable. They were the last line of defense, and Mr. Elijah now understood his role in protecting the team’s goal.

Walter smiled from the gymnasium, watching as each student and teacher stepped through the doors, their new roles fully embraced. The golden team was complete. Westbrook High had been transformed, and every member of the school—whether student or teacher—had found their place.

The yearbook of 2024 looked a little different this year...

Even the teachers never looked better

Mr. Riley became such a bro, his quote turned into perfection...

Soon, the entire world would see what they had become. But they did not mind. They were having the best time of their lives.

The quiet hum of the transformed students’ laughter echoed through the hallways of Westbrook High. Everyone, from students to teachers, had embraced their new roles within the golden team, dressed in shiny metallic AC Milan 2013 3rd kit jerseys over crisp white button-up shirts, with red-and-black striped ties beneath. The once-normal school had turned into a hub of golden uniforms, with every corner glowing in the soft, hypnotic golden light that now symbolized unity and transformation.

However, not everyone outside the school was blind to the changes.

Detective Marcus Dunn had received a series of concerned calls from parents claiming their sons had come home “acting strange” and wearing golden soccer uniforms without any explanation. The transformation seemed too bizarre to ignore, and it was starting to spread beyond the school. Dunn and his partner, Officer Richards, decided it was time to investigate.

As they pulled up to the school in their patrol car, Dunn and Richards immediately noticed the strange golden glow emanating from the windows. “Something’s off,” Dunn muttered. “Let's go in.”

Inside, the transformed students and teachers moved with unsettling coordination, laughing and chatting like they were part of some secret world. As Dunn and Richards stepped into the hallway, they were greeted by two teachers, their faces adorned with smug smirks. “Hello, officers,” one of the teachers said, his voice almost unnaturally calm. “Is there something we can help you with?”

“We’re here to ask a few questions,” Dunn said, trying to maintain his composure. “We’ve heard reports of strange behavior from some of your students.”

The teachers simply smiled, exchanging glances. “There’s nothing strange happening here, officers. Just a lot of...team spirit.”

But something was wrong. The way everyone moved in perfect sync, the glazed looks in the students' eyes. Dunn’s gut told him to get out, but Richards, curious, stepped closer to a rack of shiny metallic golden kits that lined the hallway. “What’s with the uniforms?” he asked, reaching for one.

The teachers didn’t stop him. “You should try one on,” one of them suggested, his smirk growing wider. “It might help you understand what’s happening here.”

Against his better judgment, Richards picked up a golden jersey, admiring the sheen of the fabric. Before Dunn could protest, Richards slipped the jersey over his police uniform, the gold shining against his badge. Almost instantly, his expression shifted. A dumb smile spread across his face, and he chuckled softly.

“Richards?” Dunn asked, stepping back in shock. But it was too late.

Richards turned to Dunn, his eyes slightly unfocused. “Gold’s...kinda nice,” he muttered, laughing like the rest of the students now roaming the halls.

Dunn felt a knot form in his stomach. He backed away, but more teachers were closing in, their smirks unwavering. They were holding more golden kits, pushing them toward him. “You’ll want to join us too,” one of them said. “Gold looks good on everyone.”

“No—” Dunn started, but before he could finish, one of the teachers threw a golden backwards baseball cap onto his head, securing it snugly. Dunn’s mind began to fog. The cap felt strangely comfortable, almost as if it belonged there. His police jacket shifted, shimmering into a shiny metallic golden jersey, with a crisp white shirt and red-and-black striped tie underneath.

The last thing Dunn remembered before the transformation took hold was his reflection in a nearby glass door—his face, now smirking like the rest, looked...dumber. And he liked it.

“We obey Cap. We obey Gold,” Richards whispered, clapping a golden-clad hand on Dunn’s shoulder.

The police officers, now fully transformed, marched back to their car, ready to spread the golden team’s influence further into the city.

Just moments before Officer Richards slipped on the golden jersey, Officer Dunn’s instincts had kicked in. “We need backup. Now,” he had muttered into his radio, his voice low but urgent. But even as he called for help, the golden light reflecting off the shiny metallic kits seemed to grow brighter, drawing Richards in.

Now, standing in the hallway of Westbrook High, both officers were no longer themselves. Richards had donned the golden AC Milan 2013 3rd kit over his police uniform, the glossy fabric shimmering as he stood beside Dunn. Dunn had tried to resist, but once the golden backwards baseball cap was placed on his head, it was over. His uniform had shifted, merging with the golden jersey and the crisp white button-up shirt beneath it. His expression was vacant, his smirk wide and unthinking.

Both officers were now proud members of the golden team, transformed and obedient.

Outside, the sound of a distant siren echoed down the street. The backup Dunn had called for was on its way. A police cruiser sped toward the school, lights flashing, but the officers inside had no idea what awaited them.

Inside the school, the golden-clad teachers and students smirked knowingly. They had seen this before—resistance crumbling as new recruits were drawn in, one by one.

“Backup’s coming,” Richards said dumbly, scratching his head beneath his new golden cap. His voice was slower now, more relaxed, as if thinking too hard hurt. “But we’ll take care of ‘em.”

Dunn nodded, his smirk widening. “Yeah, they’ll look good in gold.”

The golden team assembled near the front entrance, waiting for the new arrivals. The teachers, now more like enforcers of the transformation, moved racks of shiny metallic golden jerseys closer to the doors. They knew that once the officers arrived, it wouldn’t take long to convert them too.

The backup car pulled up, and two more officers stepped out. Officers Bailey and Morgan approached the school, radios in hand. They had no idea what to expect, but they had heard Dunn’s urgent tone in his last call and knew something was off.

As they stepped closer to the entrance, the strange golden glow from inside caught their attention. “What the hell...?” Morgan muttered, peering through the doors. “Is this some kind of joke?”

Before they could react, Dunn and Richards appeared at the entrance, now fully transformed in their golden uniforms. Their faces beamed with confident, mindless smiles, their eyes almost vacant.

“Hey, guys,” Dunn said, his voice slow and overly friendly. “Glad you made it.”

Bailey’s eyes narrowed. “Dunn, what’s going on? What the hell are you wearing?”

Richards chuckled softly, the sound unnerving. “It’s gold, man. It’s what we wear now.”

Bailey and Morgan exchanged glances, both reaching instinctively for their radios, but they weren’t fast enough. The golden team members surged forward, led by the teachers, who shoved racks of golden jerseys in front of the officers.

“You’re gonna wanna put these on,” one teacher said with a smirk, tossing a shiny golden AC Milan jersey toward Bailey.

“No way,” Bailey muttered, shoving the jersey away. But the moment his hand touched the golden fabric, something changed. His mind fogged, and the soft, hypnotic glow of the jersey pulled him in. He couldn’t look away.

“Try it, man,” Dunn said, his voice like a lullaby. “It feels...real good.”

Before he knew it, Bailey’s hands were moving on their own. He slipped the golden jersey over his police vest, the transformation happening almost instantly. His police uniform shifted beneath the golden fabric, turning into a crisp white shirt and red-and-black striped tie. His mind felt lighter, emptier, and that dumb smile crept onto his face as the number “12” appeared on his back.

Morgan, seeing his partner fall under the spell of the golden kit, tried to resist. “No! What the hell did you do to him?”

But Dunn and Richards simply laughed, holding out a golden backwards baseball cap. “Don’t fight it,” Richards said, his voice slow and lazy. “Gold looks good on you.”

Morgan backed away, but more golden team members surrounded him. One of the students grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the golden rack. Before he could think to resist, a golden jersey was draped over his shoulders, and a backwards cap was shoved onto his head.

The transformation was swift. His police uniform faded, replaced by the same crisp white shirt, red-and-black tie, and golden kit that the others wore. The fog settled over his mind, and the golden light seemed to fill every thought. He smiled, dumb and compliant, joining the team without a second thought.

Now, all four officers stood together, fully transformed and part of the golden team. Their radios lay forgotten on the ground, no longer needed. The school glowed brighter as the golden team welcomed their newest recruits.

“Welcome to the team,” Dunn said, clapping Bailey on the back.

Bailey and Morgan could only smile, their minds too fogged to care. They were golden now, and there was no going back.

Outside, the police car’s lights flickered, but inside, the golden team stood united, ready to spread their influence even further.

[puppycheesecake]

Sim Lookbook - Aisling

Bringing my sad banshee girl back.

General: Skintone / Skinblend / Eyes / Hair 1 (Original Mesh + Recolor) / Hair 2 (Original Mesh + Recolor) / Hair Color Overlay (Accessory) / Hair Strands (Accessory) / Brows / Nails / Eyeliner (Invictus) / Tears  Everyday: Top (Blanche Sweater) / Skirt / Tights / Shoes / Necklace / Case Formal: Dress / Shoes / Necklace Athletic: Top (Billie) / Pants / Socks / Shoes Sleep: Top (Recolor) + (Original Mesh) / Shorts (** Throwback Fit Kit Recolor) / Socks Party: Top / Skirt / Tights / Socks / Shoes / Headphones Swimwear: Swimsuit (6) / Shoes / Bracelet Hot Weather: Top / Undershirt / Shorts / Tights / Shoes / Bracelet Cold Weather: Top / Pants / Tights / Shoes Bonus 01: Dress / Tied Shirt / Gloves 1 / Gloves 2 Bonus 02: Dress / Eyeshadow / Lipstick

Thank you! @lamatisse @mousysims @serenity-cc @sunivaa @twisted-cat @pralinesims @clumsyalienn @evellsims @trillyke @dallasgirl79 @mel-bennett @myshunosun @sentate @arethabee @simandy @its-adrienpastel @merulasnydes @sforzcc @plazasims @jius-sims @solistair @eunosims @aniraklova @saurussims @dissiasims @remussirion @pyxiidis 

[knavves]

★ SUGAR DADDY ft sae, shidou, yukimiya & ego — different ways sugar daddy blue lock men slut you out !

wc: 1.1k ノ cw + tw: nsfw (18+). fem reader. public sex. fingering. blow jobs. throat fucking. use of petnames. degrading. praise. riding. dirty talk. stomach bulge. dacryphilia. slapping. ego is kinda mean.

SUGAR DADDY SAE! who can barely contain himself as you finally walk out the dressing room, drinking in the sight of the pricy lingerie clinging to your body, hardly even covering your most intimate parts. his eyes track your every movement as you slightly sway your hips and giggle as you spin for him, allowing him to see the way the fabric fits your body.

“what do you think, sae?” but he doesn’t say anything as he grips your wrist and drags you back into the dressing room. you gasp when he pins you up against the wall, placing needy kisses all over the valley of your neck. you whine about how someone could catch you but he ignored your concerns as he pushes your panties to the side, slipping his cock into your drooling pussy. one hand grips your waist tightly and the other slithers up to cup his hand over your mouth to muffle your pretty cries. the pro athlete knew that if you were to both get caught like this it would make headlines but that didn’t seem to concern him too much.

the necklace that glimmered around your neck, specifically customized for you and engraved with his initials, bounced as he drilled into your cunt from behind. the squelching noises that followed with each thrust and your muffled moans were seemingly louder in your ears, you silently prayed that none of the workers would catch what was going on.

SUGAR DADDY SHIDOU! who has an arm slung around your shoulders, peering at the screen of your phone as you gawk over the new designer bag that just dropped. you look at him with doe eyes and sweetly ask if he can get it for you. he just smirks and tilts his head at you, “you know what you have to do if you want something, baby.”

you immediately slid out of your seat and onto the floor of the limo, sinking to your knees in between his spread legs. your hands shakily reach up to the zipper of his pants, your gold bracelet slightly slipping down your wrist as you do so. your face suddenly grew hot as you remembered you two weren’t alone in the limo as a handful of his friends were with you.

his cock sprung free from the confinements of his boxers, nearly slapping your cheek as it stood tall, already hard and leaking with precum. he grunted at the feeling of your warm mouth enveloping him, his large hand pushed at the back of your head urging you to take more of him. his tip hit the back of your throat causing you to gag around his length, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. growing impatient, he gripped either side of your head before fucking his hips up into your mouth. you choked and sputtered around him, drool slipping down your chin and some of it coating his balls.

your nails dug into his tanned thighs to stabilize yourself and the tears that had welled up in your lash line had helplessly spilled over, smearing the mascara you’d dolled yourself up with earlier. “fuck, choking on my cock in front of my friends like this? you’re such a slut. my slut though.” he spat between groans. “c’mon shidou be nicer to her, she’s taking you so well.” one of his friends piped up. “so pretty too. i’d love to have her for myself.” another voice said, your thighs clenched at the mix of degradation and praise that rang through your ears. shidou moans shamelessly loud and you’d wish he’d quiet down, how could he not be embarrassed by the lingering eyes on the both of you? but you guess you weren’t any better as you didn’t even hesitate to get on your knees for him.

SUGAR DADDY YUKIMIYA! who fills your ears with praise as he slowly slides his cock into you. every movement he makes is gentle and he holds you like you’re a delicate piece of glass that could shatter with one wrong move. his eyes holding intense contact with your own, clouded with so much adoration and purity as if he wasn’t balls deep inside you right now.

“you’re so beautiful. you always look so pretty drunk on my cock.” he whispered into your ear, not missing the way you shuddered at his warm breath fanning against your skin. his head dropped to rest on your shoulder to silence the groans that left his lips as you squeeze and spasmed around him with each thrust of his hips.

you bat your eyelashes dreamily at him before opening your lips smeared with lipstick to ask if he could get you this new car you really really wanted. his head lifts from your shoulder blade to quirk a brow at you, amused by your antics. “a new car but didn’t i already buy you one?” he quires. you jut your bottom lip out in a pout, “y-yeah but this ones different, it’s pink.”

he just chuckles lightly at you, “beg for it and i’ll think about it.” knowing full well he’s going to get it for you anyway.

SUGAR DADDY EGO! who pays you no mind as you slowly sink down onto his cock. your newly done nails digging into your own thighs as he’d commanded you not to touch him. a drawn out moan slips from your mouth when you finally bottom out, still shaking from the slight burn that came as he stretched you out.

you’d think with his nonchalant attitude that he was disinterested in you but it was completely the opposite. his heavy breaths and the way he throbbed inside of you was a dead giveaway to how much he enjoyed this albeit he’d never admit it. he liked blowing his money on you, too, but he finds sadistic pleasure in making you work and cry for it.

you wince when your legs knock against the arm rests of his office chair as you bounce on his lap. you raise your hips, whimpering at how his dick dragged against your gummy walls when you sunk back down. his eyes would occasionally peel from the monitors that encase him to scan over the bulge in your stomach. he cruelly brought his hand up to press against it, reviling in the way you squeal and push his hand away.

a sharp sting against the flesh of your ass had you retracting your hands, “i told you not to fucking touch me, slut. you want to go on that shopping spree right?” you nodded dumbly, barely even registering what he was telling you. too dumb to even notice you’d been crying, god he loved it when you cried, always looked so pretty when you did. it gave him a sick sense of pride to see you all ruined for him. “use your words. or do you not want to go? is that it?”

© knavves : eposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is NOT allowed.

[gainingfiction]

King Size

I had a great time working on this project with @bee-wg​! Working with such a talented artist was a phenomenal experience. It was amazing to see this story come to life! Make sure to check out their great art and give them a follow. Hope you enjoy!

(Note: colouring may appear a little off when viewing on mobile, clicking the image should correct)

Summary: Prince Leo grows into his new role as king.

Once upon a time, in a far away kingdom, there lived a handsome prince. With loose waves of chestnut-coloured hair and a jaw like carved stone, maids and knights alike swooned at every twinkle of his blue eyes. None could deny that Prince Leopold was the fairest in all the land.

Leo’s skills as an athlete were the stuff of legend. He was as able with a sword as he was on horseback, and though he was slender and lithe, his deadly aim made him the envy of even the finest archers. On each hunt he loosed arrow after piercing arrow, returning to the castle with braces of pheasant, quail, and grouse.

After the death of Leo’s father the king, the whole realm mourned, and none grieved more than Leo himself. His carefree life as prince was at an end, and now the weight of the crown sat heavy on his head. His idle days of sparring with knights, long rides through the forest, and week-long hunts were over. The burdens of his new role were many, and he knew that hard work lay ahead of him.

With little time to spend on his favourite pastimes, Leo soon discovered a new outlet for his energies: feasting. As prince, he often dreaded his father’s banquets, wishing he could be riding or hunting instead. Soon after taking the throne, Leo realized what his father had known all along, that the business of government is easier on a full belly.

Before long, Leo feasted often and enthusiastically. His brothers returned from their frequent hunts with game and fowl, and the kitchens bustled with activity. The cooks had never been busier, preparing dish after dish for their hungry new king.

And Leo ate. Plates of venison and lamb, roasted chicken and suckling pig, mince pies and rashers of bacon, Leo devoured it all, washed down with wine, ale, and mead. He feasted from dawn until dusk. By the end of the night, he had gorged himself into a stupor, his stomach stuffed and protesting by the time he made his way to bed.

It didn’t take long before the new king began to grow plump. As he filled his stomach relentlessly, pushing himself to the edges of his capacity and then beyond, his appetite grew. The roundness his midsection acquired after bouts of gluttony began to stick, until his stomach, once flat, swelled and softened into a fleshy orb. As the months passed, he was left with a fat belly and a pair of meaty love handles. Even his face changed, and he began to grow out his beard to cover his softening jawline.

Leo’s ass and hips grew, as well. Fat began to build around his slender thighs, and his buttocks bulged and ripened, struggling against the cloth of his breeches. Leo’s servants realized the problem before their king. Each morning they dressed Leo, and his clothes seemed to grow tighter by the day. Leo could see them exchanging meaningful glances as they tried to squeeze his added bulk into undersized clothes, afraid to tell him just how hard it was becoming to fit him into his garments.

Leo eventually capitulated. He spoke to the royal tailor, who soon became almost as busy as the cooks, constantly measuring the ever-expanding monarch for new shirts and pants to contain his ballooning poundage.

And so, Leo ate, and drank, and slept, and governed, and grew. The lords and ladies of court seemed shocked at just how fast their new overlord was gaining weight, at how unable he was to control his appetite.

None dared to question the king’s love of food. His wife, the queen, seemed unimpressed, but she had done her duty and given him a pair of twin boys. The realm had its heir. Now, the king ignored her, preferring the attention of handsome servants and dashing knights. This didn’t bother the queen, preoccupied as she was with her lady-in-waiting.

His belly swelled further, growing softer and heavier. By the anniversary of his coronation, it hung out in front of him, soft and round, drooping far over the waist of his pants. He often went shirtless, leaving his fattened torso exposed beneath a fine ermine cloak. That cloak had belonged to his father; it was too large when Leo took the throne, but now it fit him comfortably, and would soon become tight.

He was fatter all over, the small muscles of his chest now hidden under hearty slabs of fat. Below his breasts, his globular belly clung to his torso, flanked at the sides by thick handfuls of fat that projected over the top of his pants. His thighs were broad and hefty, and his rump had expanded to truly king-sized proportions.

A few years into his reign, the finest artist in the realm came to court. He had painted Leo before, and he stared in shock at the bearded, fat-bellied man Leo had become. In his fine cloak and glimmering crown, wearing a good-natured smile, Leo cut an image of a powerful but generous ruler.

He hardly resembled the strapping young knight he had so recently been. The painter looked back and forth between the old Leo and the new, his recent portrait of a slender prince and the overfed monarch now posed in front of him, seeming not to believe his eyes. The poor artist pleaded with his king to stay still, but Leo refused to stop eating and drinking, stretching his pendulous stomach to an ever-greater size. The buttons of his tunic were struggling by the end of the sitting, and hours on his feet had left him exhausted and sore-legged.

Over the years of King Leo’s reign, his girth only increased. His dimpled, rosy cheeks swelled rounder and plumper, and beneath his impressive beard, his jowls sagged and his double chin expanded. His chin grew so thick that it seemed to merge into his body, replacing his neck, and his shoulders broadened with soft fat. His chest billowed out atop his colossal stomach, a rack of teats to rival the bustiest milkmaid, and his stomach exploded in size, leading the way ahead of him and hanging low in front. He was a great bear of a man, as wide as a barge, large enough to intimidate anyone who crossed his path.

On his 26th birthday, after five years as king, he realized with annoyance that he had grown too fat for the throne, unable to squeeze his rear-end between its arms. It was an uncomfortable old chair, anyway, and Leo had no time for discomfort. So he commissioned a new one, and thereafter sat his humongous behind on a throne as wide as a bench, built of heavy, gold-painted wood but still seeming to sag at the middle beneath his towering weight.

Some say that Leo was the greatest king of all. What his ancestors had settled at war, Leo handled with diplomacy: nobles were brought together at the feasting table, where petty feuds were put to rest over food and drink. They knew that food, not scheming, was the way to secure the king’s trust. Any request was usually accompanied by generous gifts, and whenever the king held court, platters streamed from the kitchens and filled the great hall. According to legend, the people flocked to Leo with offerings of food, just to marvel at his enormous belly and its seemingly limitless capacity.

Few would recognize the bearded mammoth as the slender, fresh-faced prince he once was, but all would agree that Jolly King Leopold’s steady rule had brought prosperity to the realm. His subjects lived happily ever after in peace and plenty—with none more plentiful than their king.

[luvzshy]

Hii! I just saw you’re taking requests

I was hoping you could write Kate bishop x fem reader where reader gets assigned to train with Kate and Kate and yelena are best friends. Yelena keeps making Kate’s crush on reader obvious and both reader and Kate are clumsy when they’re training✨ so like fluff with some low-key tension between the two?🧚🏽‍♀️🙏🏽thank you in advance

Clumsy Crush

Training sessions were supposed to be straightforward. Get in, do the work, and come out stronger. That’s what you told yourself, anyway. But nothing about training with Kate Bishop seemed straightforward—not when she constantly looked at you with those sparkling blue eyes, not when her face flushed every time you so much as glanced at her, and especially not when Yelena, her best friend, made it her mission to tease her every second of the way.

You arrived at the training facility, greeted by Kate’s usual bright smile. “Hey! Ready for another session?”

You smiled back, your heart doing that stupid fluttering thing it had started doing around Kate. “Always.”

Kate was dressed in her typical training gear—black athletic pants and a fitted tank top, her long hair pulled into a high ponytail. She looked ready to take on the world, except for the nervous energy that radiated off her whenever you were near. You pretended not to notice.

Just as you began to stretch, Yelena appeared, lazily leaning against the doorframe, already grinning like she knew something you didn’t. “Oh look, it’s Kate and her special training partner,” she teased, her accent making the words sharper.

Kate shot her a glare, her cheeks already starting to turn pink. “Yelena, don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

Yelena smirked, moving closer but keeping her distance just enough to enjoy the show. “Nope, I think this is the most fun I’ll have all day. Watching you trip over your own feet while trying not to look at her—how could I miss that?”

You chuckled softly, catching Kate’s eye, and she groaned, already looking defeated. “Don’t listen to her. She’s just… being Yelena.”

“I can see that,” you replied, stifling a grin.

Kate cleared her throat and tried to focus. “Alright, let’s start with some basic hand-to-hand. Nothing too intense, just to warm up.”

You nodded, stepping onto the mat opposite her, mirroring her stance. Kate took a deep breath, her focus darting between your eyes and your movements. “You ready?” she asked.

You nodded, but before you could respond, Yelena’s voice cut through again. “She’s not going to bite, Kate. Unless, of course, you ask her nicely.”

Kate’s foot slipped just as you moved in, your hand raised to strike. Instead of a clean block, Kate flailed for balance, her arm colliding awkwardly with yours. She grabbed at your shoulder to steady herself, but that only pulled you both down, tangled together as you hit the mat with a loud thud.

“Ow—oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Kate stammered, her face inches from yours. Her hands were braced awkwardly on either side of you, and for a second, neither of you moved. The closeness was… overwhelming. You could feel her breath against your cheek, and your heart raced, but you tried to play it cool.

“It’s okay,” you said, biting back a laugh. “I’ve had worse falls.”

Kate’s face was a deep shade of red as she quickly scrambled off you, nearly tripping over her own feet again in the process. Yelena’s laughter filled the room. “This is even better than I imagined. Kate, you’re doing great!”

Kate threw her a half-hearted glare before offering you a hand to pull you up. “I swear, I’m usually not this… clumsy.”

“I believe you,” you said, though the smile tugging at your lips made it clear you were enjoying this more than you let on.

The two of you reset, trying to get back into the rhythm, but it was like the air between you had shifted. Every time Kate moved, you could feel her hesitation—like she was too afraid of accidentally touching you again. But despite the tension, or maybe because of it, you found yourself growing more aware of her in a way that made your chest tighten.

Kate lunged toward you, but her foot slipped on the mat, and once again, her balance faltered. You instinctively reached out to catch her, your hands landing on her waist just as hers found your shoulders. The contact sent a jolt through you, and for a brief moment, neither of you moved.

Yelena clapped loudly from her spot, making you both jump. “Wow, that was almost smooth! Maybe next time you can skip the falling part and just kiss her already.”

“Yelena!” Kate nearly shrieked, her voice high with embarrassment. She immediately let go of you, backing up so fast that she nearly tripped again.

You were trying to hold back your laughter at this point. “It’s fine, really,” you reassured her, but you could feel the blush creeping up your own neck.

Kate took a deep breath, clearly flustered but determined to power through. “Let’s… let’s try that again. But, you know, without the falling.”

She lunged at you again, this time more cautious, but it didn’t take long before another misstep had you both stumbling. You tried to sweep her leg, but she tripped over her own feet, grabbing onto you to stay upright. Unfortunately, her attempt to stay balanced only ended with both of you crashing onto the mat again—this time with you on top of her.

You both froze, faces close, breaths mingling. Kate’s hands were resting gently on your arms, and for a moment, you swore she was about to say something—maybe finally acknowledge what Yelena had been teasing about this whole time. But instead, she just stared at you, wide-eyed and red-faced.

“Are you two done flirting, or should I call it a day?” Yelena asked, her tone dripping with amusement.

You quickly rolled off Kate, trying to regain some semblance of professionalism. Kate covered her face with her hands, letting out a groan. “This is the worst training session of my life.”

You laughed, reaching over to help her up. “Hey, at least it’s memorable.”

Kate peeked at you from between her fingers, her lips curving into a small smile despite her embarrassment. “Yeah… memorable.”

Yelena finally stood, clapping her hands as she walked toward the two of you. “Well, I think it’s clear that Kate’s not going to get any training done while you’re around, so how about we call it for today?”

Kate sighed, clearly both relieved and frustrated. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. “Same time?”

Kate gave you a small wave before turning to follow Yelena out of the room, but before she left, she glanced back at you one more time. That nervous energy was still there, but now it was mixed with something else. Something that made you think maybe—just maybe—Yelena was right.

And that was definitely something to look forward to.