gurumataji

[youryanderedaddy]

When Life Gives Lemons

tw: female reader, technically non con because of stealthing, baby trapping, breeding, obsessive behavior, reader being a bit rude

You couldn’t believe the irony of your life. You were about to break up with your immature boyfriend, and he still managed to be grossly late to the date, unconsciously digging his own grave deeper. You had put on your best white shirt and the tightest skirt you owned, and you even went through the trouble of booking the latest hipster coffee shop close to the centre. He had been fifteen minutes late, to be exact, and when you brought it up, he simply shrugged a long sleazy smile, dragging his skeleton - shaped metal rings against the edge of the table.

“All in due time, princess.” He took a sip off his coffee - a single shot of espresso with no creamer, as always. “All in due time.” He repeated, reaching in his pocket for a pack of off - brand cigarettes. He really couldn’t afford any of the fancy ones. Once the cigarette was lit, he slowly brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting his head relax against the chair. His thick neck tightened as he swallowed the deadly smoke, and even the sun seemed to avoid his messy dark locks, instead keeping the man in the shadows.

“What does that even mean?” You threw your hands around helplessly, sinking into your chair. “Don’t you want to know?” Axel teased, taking another puff. Although his expression was one of mild amusement, his sharp blue eyes were carefully following your every movement - wondering what will tip you off the most. “You know, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad, mami.” He smiled in a playful boyish way that once would have made you melt, but now only served as a reminder of his unserious nature.

“Stop playing around. I need to discuss something imp–”

“Shhh, don’t talk, babygirl. I need to show you something.” Axel interrupted, gripping the big guitar closer to his lap. ”I wrote you a song.” His thin fingers grazed the delicate transparent strings, forcing a catchy, although not fully polished melody out of the old thing. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips so the lyrics would come out softer. 

My girl knows how to set me

on flames she goes through 

the motions of the wind she

is a fireball, a fireball, on fire

“What the fuck, Axy.” You pounded your fists at the table, shaking the glasses and spilling coffee all over the wooden surface. You could feel everyone’s judging stare across your back, all of the other patrons were jeering and whispering about the two of you, and your cheeks were heating up by the moment. “I’ve told you countless times to stop writing those shitty songs. They don’t even rhyme, for fuck sake.” You whined, suddenly overwhelmed by helplessness. He was never going to change, was he? “This is exactly why I want to break up.”

The music stopped entirely. His dark sunglasses ended on the ground. 

“You wanna break up?” The musician repeated slowly, suddenly appearing awfully composed - so composed it made you look crazy. After that question he remained silent for a very long time, taking long drags off his cigarette while studying your face for any sign of your true feelings bleeding out. “Real’ funny, babe, real’ fun joke.” He forced a crooked smile, reaching in to squeeze your hand all the way through the table. “Now tell me, what’s wrong with the song? I stayed real’ late to compose it just for our date today.” He winked, which only made you feel worse.

“I am being serious, Axel. Let go of me.” Your tone turned icy and your ex boyfriend quickly released you, eyes filling with raw fear. “Wait, baby, we can talk about–”

“There is nothing to talk about. You’re such a child!” You blurted out, too frustrated to spare energy on fluttery words and sweet apologies. “I want to do my masters soon. You know I’m applying to Metwyorth - I can’t be seen hanging around with a high school dropout who does Saturday gigs for a living.” You continued, pursing your lips together. You knew you were being harsh, cruel even, but this was the only way to push him away. The musician could be awfully clingy, so you needed to be firm.

“A highschool dropout who made you scream your brains out.” Axel responded bitterly through clenched teeth, eyes growing dark with anger. You shook your head bashfully, avoiding his fiery gaze. “Sure, we had our fun,” You gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, trying to hide the shame blossoming on your sides. “But it’s time to wake up. I mean, be realistic. We live in different worlds.” You began to collect your things quickly, standing up to leave.

“Y/N!” He called out to you, causing you to turn back just for a second - you owed him that much for all the good memories you knew you both would have trouble forgetting. “You’re making a mistake. Please, think it through.” The man took a hold of your hand, caressing your fingers gently. “I know I can’t offer you much right now, but I really love you!” His eyes dilated, honest and clear like an untouched sea on a quiet day. 

“Goodbye, Axel.”

***

You meet him sooner that you’d like.

Two weeks later you’re drunk off your mind, dancing the night away with some of your girlfriends when you catch a pair of familiar eyes fluttering across your body from the other side of the room. It makes you feel hot all over - despite what you said back then, you felt each agonising moment of the break up. Even if the logical part of your brain knows you have no future with such a man, your body needs him, craves him. 

Axel keeps staring at you intensely, burning holes through your neck, your thighs, your lips. His yearning gaze lingers, completely miserable, and yet as lustful as the night he first wrapped his arms around you and claimed you as his. He can still feel your nails scratching his back red and bloody, sending shivers down his spine and setting fire in his loins. This staring game of yours lasts for approximately thirty minutes before he gives in and comes over to your table. He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t look at you or greet your friends, doesn’t even pretend to have any reason to approach you. He simply grabs you, swallows an airy pant, and drags you inside the bathroom.

You’re all over each other in no time. His hands are tangled in your hair and your nails are sinking into his warm flesh once again. You can’t breathe for a second, suffocated by a deep, longing kiss that he only spares you of once your lips start to turn blue. He licks your neck and bites at any spot vulnerable enough to steal a gasp out of you - and you return it by sucking on his collarbone until a purple hickey adorns his skin. You swiftly unzip his loose pants and start taking your dress off, but as you try to spread your legs, he turns you around facing the wall. 

“Fuck, I wanna do you from the back, princess.” Axel mumbles, one strong hand gripping your throat as the other gropes your breasts freely. You nod weakly, too turned on to comprehend any of the words he’s saying. “Ngh, wanna be able to pull your hair n’ shit.” His fist wraps around your ponytail, pulling slightly so you expose your neck to his teeth. You can already feel his throbbing manhood prob at your thighs, slowly moving towards your entrance. “Y-you have a condom on, right?” You manage to whimper through the little electric bursts of pleasure running through your whole body as he plays you like an instrument. He mumbles something like “yeah”, and in this state of mind that’s enough for you.

He starts sinking into your heat slowly, letting you adjust to his hard length inch by inch, then once you’ve settled, practically begging him to just give it to you, he begins thrusting painfully slow - really making you feel it going in and out, in and out in a perfect rhythm. Each time his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot, you’re reduced to a slick, desperate mess, but just as your thighs begin to go numb and you slip down, Axel catches both of your wrists and pins them to the wall, keeping you in place. You’re so wet you can hear the slap of skin on skin every time your gummy walls hug his member, but you’re too far gone to care about the nasty sound.

“F-fuck, baby, you’d be so fucking hot as a mother. Have you ever thought about it?” Your ex whispers against you, picking up the pace. You shake your head - kids have never been your priority, since you’re still so young and your education would always come first. “I thought about it. A lot, ‘n fact, when we were separated.” His heartbeat fastens. “Ugh, you’re still so tight, god…” His free hand dances at your hips, ogling and caressing any curve it can find. “When you dumped me, I was completely lost, ya know? Didn’t sober up for three days. But then I dreamt that I knocked you up accidentally. S-shit, did you just tighten up?”

Your whole body stiffens at his words. Your stomach fills with unexplainable dread - this whole conversation is turning you off, but somehow your body seems to have a mind of its own. 

“Q-quit it with the small talk, asshole.” You groan, pushing back so you’d get more friction between your legs. “Just fuck me, okay? I don’t need to hear your weird fantasies.” You hear yourself saying confidently despite the provocative position you’re currently stuck in - you can’t even see his face, but you know he’s probably laughing at your bossy comment. But instead he keeps blabbering on as if you’re not even there. “You were so beautiful, princess. So big and–” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking needy for me - just like now. You were dripping everywhere. You were so excited for our little baby.” He grunted hoarsely, reaching in to stroke your clit - and despite your best efforts, you let out a soft moan. 

“And we were a family - just you, n-ngh, me and the little guy.” Axel utters through clenched teeth, trying to hold out for as long as possible - savouring you in tiny little bites. “No stupid degrees or anythin’, just us two against the world.” He slows down further, now barely moving inside of you. It’s driving you crazy with anticipation - both his story and the way he’s fucking you. “And it made me think, we could really have all that - if it wasn’t for your stupid pride. All I need to do is knock you up. Just think about it.” The man grips your hips roughly, impaling you on his thickness. 

“Your tits will swell, your thighs will thicken; you’ll be so tired you’ll have to lay down all the time. You won’t even be able to touch yourself because of your belly.” He smiles at you gently, although you can’t see it. At this point you’re already so close to climax you can’t break through the cotton cloud haze that’s taken over your mind to truly focus. This is one of the reasons you had to break up with the musician - he could get you cockdrunk with a simple touch, and that vulnerability felt terrifying.

“And I will take care of you through every-” He kisses your cheek. “single–” He kisses you again. “step of the way.” He inhales deeply, thrusting in one final time before he spills inside you. “I love you, baby. I really can’t let you go.”

[romcomeon]

「 ꨄ︎ 」 𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐄 .ᐟ

⁀➴ humans were much more fragile than he thought.

⋮ NOTE DETAILS — mammon x gn!mc. careless scars. wc ≈ 1K .ᐟ

"What's.. I... how do ya even injure yourself like THIS!?"

"I... don't know...?"

You gave an awkward smile. Eyes shaking from what remained of the adrenaline rush, your hands resting atop your stomach while you lie down on the couch.

"Oh for fuck's sake, treasure," Mammon cursed, removing his sunglasses as he pinches the bridge of his nose. Seriously, you barely even started your day. There you were: bedridden and partly immobile, with every sway of your leg hurting a tad more than the last.

Not that you can say anything, but it was a careless accident.

...

It was more careless than it was accidental. The shelves within the grand library at the House of Lamentation were far beyond your reach. By genius design, you had no choice but to use the dark spook tree ladder that was left isolated to the corner shelves.

You could try to use magic, though you are unfamiliar with the general book's looks, for you only knew the title and the name of the author. 'course you also had the option to ask Satan for guidance, but the blonde had whisked himself away to the barricaded doors of the attic --- who knew what he and the youngest had planned for their measly prank.

And who knew how slippery unattended furniture can get.

You have not a choice: by deduction, the best course of action was to use the ladder and manually look for it yourself.

With the success of finding the book, surely a long, carpentered, intricately designed slab of wood wouldn't betray you. Now would it?

The first step downward was manageable.

The second step caused the old ladder to wobble, near stumbling back to the floor; yet otherwise stood still as you maintained balance.

As the third step came, as if by some imaginary liquid, you missed. You lost your grip.

There you came tumbling down with the sharp wooden edges grazing against your leg. And then you landed on the floor, upright, yes, but your left leg stuck against the fifth to the last step.

Your leg a swollen red, a long scratch from your ankle stretched upward towards the lower knee - where blood dripped down the open scar.

"Shhh...f-" you hissed, taking your leg off the ladder and- oh. You might've misplaced a bone there. You had to drag your leg up to a nearby couch, taking sharp deep breaths to take your mind off the pain.

...

So that was the story. When you told Mammon the first time, he gave you a dumbfounded look. Nonetheless, when he found you, he was worried as hell.

Beyond the grave.

But the golden boy had to rush and rummage through every cabinet to find the human-safe emergency kit. You admit, it was adorable watching him slip from his "superiority" facade.

Ahhhh.. your train of thought came to a halt at the stinging sensation. Causing your leg to jerk up, but Mammon held it down by the knee.

"Aye- Don't move," he said, while he tried to gently disinfect the scar with the isopropyl alcohol. Not a sensation you weren't familiar with, but god it burns.

"I'm sorry, but, could you please go a little faster?"

"Ya sure, human?" he scoffed. His finger traced along the long bump of the scratch, watching the skin scorch crimson before he shook his head. "Nuh uh."

You tilt your head up to get a better look at your golden boy, raising a brow. "What do you mean 'nuh uh'?"

"Ain't no way I'm leavin' ya alone after pullin' that stunt."

"It's just once!" You raised your hands in feigned surrender. "I'll be careful next time."

Mammon huffed his cheeks in a pout, grabbing the wool bandage off the red box. Carefully wrapping it around your calf, careful not to put too much pressure on your shin, lest you kick his face.

"Bullshit," he muttered. There were more words said, yet you couldn't seem to make them out. His usual voice in an ever soft tone: slurred words that only he could comprehend.

You did manage to catch a string of words. "not on my fuckin' watch you aren't" while he tries to fix the jumbled up bandage.

Seriously, it looked good but tying it together had always been a challenge. After all, the great avatar of greed was more known for breaking things unloose, not putting them back together.

He tried. Mammon tried. Not the best of the best, but Mammon tried his best.

You can't help but give a soft smile, watching him mumble curses as he finally figured out how to tidy up the loose ends: finding the metallic clip and pinching it on there in hopes that it sticks.

He lifts his gaze one more time to meet yours. This time, Mammon was the one raising his brow. Looking annoyed, but his intrigue was betrayed by the curious glint of his tinted sapphire eyes.

"Whatcha lookin' at me for?"

A small chuckle escaped your lips, tilting your head to the side. "Thank you."

Two words. Mammon scoffed, averting his gaze. "S-shut up. Of course ya should thank me!!" as by virtue it is a great honour to be served by the GREAT Mammon.

Though you lay there, smiling like an idiot in his eyes. How you're transfixed with the cherry red creeping up on his tan cheeks, how he subconsciously purse his lips, puffing his cheeks to not let his words betray him. How despite everything he says, he still works his way to tend to you.

To care for you. To love you.

Or to simply keep you company when no one else could. Honestly, it made the future all the less scary. The uncertainty is all the less terrifying. The possibility of your bones giving up just feels all the more natural than ill-driven.

While selfish, greedy to an extent, you figured worrying in the future might just be a hoax. A fantasy in your head.

They say to get your head out the gutter, yet you couldn't help but examine each worse case scenario.

And if it's with him to your aid? It will all feel right.

note.s : lesson learned, always watch your step when climbing down ladders.

check out my masterlist | divider by adornedwithlight

[thinkinonsense]

Touchཐིཋྀ

origins!logan howlett x fem!reader x black widow!natasha romanoff

cw: mdni!! oral (f+f), strap-on sex, fingering, squirting, doggy style, p in v, angst, some fluff, angsttt, dom!nat & dom!logan x sub!reader

masterlist

after a life of running and living in fear of an impending doom, you and logan had finally managed to build a peaceful life together. deep in the woods sat a wooden cabin where the two of you spent most of your days.

during the week, logan worked down at the lumberyard while you taught ballet to a group of young girls downtown. your boyfriend didn't know much of your past, just that you were tested on and abused back in russia. he never pressured you to talk about the past, his wasn't any better either.

buried in the back of your closet hid a box of belongings from russia. there weren't many things you valued from that time there but you did manage to take some photos of the girls you were friends with, a few journal, and an old pager given to you by someone you no longer knew. her face was everywhere but she never bothered to reach out again after escaping the red room.

"i'll see you later, honey." logan whispered as he kissed your cheek then left the bedroom.

half asleep still, you mumble a goodbye before your head hit the pillow again for the next couple of hours. you didn't have a class today but instead planned on going to town and getting groceries for the week.

it's a little after one when you finally jump in the shower, listing all the things you needed to buy and what you wanted to make for dinner. while picking out an outfit, you hear a faint vibration. logan kept your toys under the bed so, you knew that wasn't where the noise was coming from.

it could be?

inside the box, you can see the familiar number flash. hesitantly, you walk over to the phone and dial. pacing back and forth on the wooden floor, waiting for an answer.

"эй, принцесса."

hey, princess

you knew that voice like the back of your hand but you still couldn't believe it.

"natalia." your accent came out thick and heavy. she should've expected you to be upset still.

it's been everywhere. the news of the sokovia accords and the freeing of the winter soldier. you were keeping up with the news but not too closely. it was irritating watching natasha get to play super hero with the likes of iron man and captain america when you knew the truth.

"can we talk? i need a favor." she sounded desperate.

"i don't think that's a good idea." you sigh, unable to come up with a good excuse.

"c'mon, for old times sake?"

you hesitate. of course you missed her, how could you not? despite the red room being the worst time of your life, natalia was the daylight that kept you going.

"you don't even know where i am."

"look out your kitchen window."

pulling back the curtain, there she stood on your porch. long red hair just like you remembered, a small suite case next to her and a pair of black sunglasses covering her eyes. you hang up the phone and grab a kitchen knife from the counter; moving closer to the door.

"how did you find me?" you squint, feeling somewhere between anger and impressed.

"an old friend owed me a favor." she shrugs. "i didn't picture you as a living among the trees type of girl. you know, it quite dangerous to live alone in the woods."

"i can take care of myself" you remind her before adding, "and i don't live alone."

natasha's face falls a little. if you didn't know her as well as you did, you never would've been able to tell. she had a million questions but wasn't sure if she wanted the answers.

"what was the favor you needed?" you ask, trying to change the subject.

"i need a place to lay low for a bit."

was it horrible that you had to remind yourself that you are with logan now? now you love logan more than anything but you would be lying if you said natasha didn't hold a special place in your heart still.

"no games, nat." you put on your best poker face, knowing she could see right through you.

"even though i do miss playing with you," her lips linger closely to yours. sharing the same air. "i promise, no games."

"good. there's a guest room inside."

the two of you enter the house again and you show her the extra room. it's not very decorated, simply and neat. natasha didn't mind, she was just thankful you hadn't tried to fight her once you saw her again.

"so, who's the lucky lady that managed to tie you down?" nat chuckles to herself as she unpacks her things.

"his name is logan." you answer nervously.

why were you nervous? you didn't owe her anything, especially after the way she left you.

natasha felt the knife in her chest twist at the news. not only had you moved on but you were sickly in love. maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all.

a car door slams shut, snapping both of you back into reality.

"i'll be back. there's towels under the sink if you want to take a shower." you linger in the door way, waiting for her to turn and catch a glimpse of you before you leave.

"thanks, принцесса."

she doesn't even look up at you.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

logan could smell trouble miles away. the blood soaked in her jacket. the faint smell of her sweat and your cherry perfume. he assumed you were in trouble, maybe someone broke in or lured you out of the house to attack you. within seconds, he was back in his truck to check up on you.

"hey, honey." you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

"hey... are you... are you alright?" he struggled to get out in between kisses.

"mhm, i was thinking we could go for a drive." you were talking too fast, trying to distract him from whatever was inside.

"what's going on, sweetheart?" one of his brows arched, waiting for the truth.

both of you climb into the truck but logan never starts the car. instead he listens to the rapid beating of your heart.

"there's something—someone, from my past that's inside. she needed a place to lay low for a little bit."

logan could tell by your lack of eye contact that there was something you were still hiding something about this friend of yours.

"I won't be upset." he saying lovingly, reaching for your hand.

"when i was in the red room, i worked closely with a woman that i also was in a relationship with at the time."

logan wasn't sure why you were nervous to tell him this? he knew you liked women as well and he wasn't threatened by it. sure, is it a bit odd that your ex was coming here to hide out? defintely but logan of all people should know what it's like to be in need of somewhere to hide out.

"it was more than just physical. she meant a lot to me until..." you debated on telling him more but still on the fence.

"until?" he tests the waters.

"dreykov sent me to budapest. she never looked for me." on the verge of tears, you bite down on your tongue. "it killed me because not only did she leave me but she abandoned all the other girls that were stuck in the red room."

logan pulls you into his chest, stroking your hair gently, letting you know that it's okay to cry. your brain didn't get the memo because nothing came out.

"you don't have to let her stay here if it's too much for you." he reminds you.

"i know. i'm just not sure if i can handle her leaving again."

"must've really loved her, huh, princess?"

you nod softly into his chest.

"i don't mind if she stays but if you don't want her too, that's fine too." he says. "just want you to be happy."

in times like these, it hits you just how lucky you are to be with someone like logan. someone so understanding and loving. he knew the pain you went through all those years ago and how deep the connection with the woman inside must be. you can't survive that level of abuse without something keeping you going. for you, that something was natasha.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

inside the house, natasha watched you and logan out in the car. slightly intimidated by your boyfriends stature and entirely jealous of his arms wrapped around you. she had to remind herself that you were practically a stranger to her now. so much has changed over the years and neither of you were the same girls from the red room anymore.

when she saw the two of you exiting the car, she rushed back into the guest room. in the tiny hallway, she noticed the picture frames on the wall. there's a photo of a group of young ballerinas and yourself. natasha wonders if that's how you keep yourself connected to your past life.

next to your picture is your boyfriend -whatever his name was- and some of his friends outside of a fancy looking school. natasha tried to pay little attention to it on her way back to the room.

ten minutes pass before there's a soft knock on the door.

"come in." natasha calls out, turning off the television.

from behind the door, you appear with a plate and a glass in your hands. the smile on her lips, drops the moment she sees him at your tail.

"thought you might be hungry." you explain, handing her the sandwich you made for her

"isn't that sweet of you to think of me," she teases, watching the way your cheeks flush with color at her words.

logan leans against the door frame while you sit on the bed with natasha. he watched as you completely bewitched the red headed woman in front of you. she was practically hanging onto every word you said. he couldn't blame her though, you have the same effect on him.

"you must be 'lucky logan' ?"natasha cocks her head at the man behind you.

"guess so." he smirks, admiring the doe eyes you give him.

"hm, and you're okay with me staying here?" she asks.

"that's not up to me." logan shrugs.

natasha's green eyes shift over to your face, waiting for you to say something.

"i want you here, nat." you admit.

her heart flutters in her chest. she knew she didn't deserve a second chance and would leave if you asked her too but god, was she grateful that you still wanted her to be here.

"i don't deserve you, принцесса." she says softly, finding it hard to mask her feelings anymore.

"shhh..." you tell her. "just get some rest."

natasha actually listens to you, finishing her sandwich and crawling under the soft comforter. you reach for the empty plate and she stops you before you could walk away; placing a soft kiss on the inside of your palm. the tiny gasp that left your mouth didn't sneak past either of them in the room. once she let you go, you and logan exit the room and go into your own shared bedroom.

logan watched you pace back and forth, wiping her kiss mark off on your blue jeans. it pulled at his heart strings to see you so torn by natasha's presence. tears fall down your face like rain.

"don't cry, sweetheart." logan says, wrapping his arms around you.

"i'm s-sorry, lo..." you apologize, upset at yourself for still harvesting these feelings towards natasha.

"for what?" he asks, lifting up your chin to look at him.

"i love you so much." you blurt out, too afraid to say what you really wanted to.

"i know. i love you too." he smiles, bending down to give you a quick kiss then adding, "and i know you love her too."

"it's not–"

"it's okay." he assures you. "i'm not upset."

"you aren't?" you question, prepared for him to storm out and want nothing to do with you ever again.

"no."

without thinking, you completely collapse into his arms, so thankful for the man in front of you.

"i don't deserve you, logan." you whisper, kissing him gently.

"don't say that." he says sternly. "i'm just trying to give you everything you want in life."

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

hours later, natasha woke up. she could smell faint tobacco from somewhere in the house. it was enough to get her out of bed to see where it was coming from. in the living room, she found logan on the couch watching a western and smoking a cigar with his boots up on the coffee table. he didn't have to turn around to know that nat was there.

"she went to the grocery store to get something for dinner." he says nonchalantly answering the question in your head.

natasha hummed in response, keeping a distance from logan in case he decides to do something rash like fight her.

"you can sit down, you know?" he chuckles, blowing the smoke from his mouth. "i'm not gonna attack you or anything."

"i wouldn't blame you if you did." she remarks, picking the single chair in the living room to sit down at.

"the only way i would do that is if you decide to hurt her again." he states frankly, eyes glued to the television screen.

"i suppose that's fair; but i don't plan on it."

"good. she's practically a damn saint."

natasha smiles a little at his words.

"yeah, she is." she says. “i wish i hadn’t left her the way that i did but there wasn’t much choice in the matter.”

“why did you leave her there?”

“dreykov found out about us. he threatened to have her sold off somewhere to someone who would probably kill her or worse.” natasha’s voice was tiny for once. painfully reminding her of the past she tried to burry. “thought i made it easier by leaving. she doesn’t know it but i did try to go back for her. twice actually. once by myself and another time with my friend, clint. the first time, she didn’t recognize me. the second time, he ordered her to kill me. barely made it out alive."

logan remembered how after a couple of months dating, you opened up about your memory issues. constantly feeling like you were missing a piece of the puzzle that was your life from all the experiments. it’s one of the things that helped you two connect with each other.

“i’ve seen her kill with her bare hands. seen her tied to tables with needles injected into her until she was blue in the face and spitting up blood. she was one of his favorite’s. used to wake up to her screaming from the nightmares.”

“she still gets them sometimes.” logan mutters.

nastasha nods, wiping a tear away quickly.

“do you think she will ever forgive me?”

“i think so.”

“do you think i deserve it?”

“probably not,” he said honestly with a shrug. “but that’s not up to me.”

natasha appreciated his candor at least.

“she’s back.” logan said before she could even hear the car approaching.

logan got up to help you bring in the bags. once both of you are inside, you spot nat sitting in the living room awake.

"hey, whatcha doin’ awake already?” you ask.

"i haven’t been awake long.” she answers, getting up and joining you in the kitchen.

“i’m making pasta, hope that’s alright with you?”

“of course. want some help?”

you instruct her to boil the noodles while you prepare the sauce. the two of you stand close next to each other as nat watches over your shoulder.

"have you heard from yelena lately?" you ask, making small talk.

"no." nat's voice came out a whisper. "have you?"

"mhm." you hum, stirring the sauce. "she called a month ago, asked what i knew about these red vitals she was given."

"vitals?"

"yeah, i told her my memory isn't as good as it used to be."

natasha reaches over and lightly touches your ponytail, twirling the ends around her fingers to help ease you. that’s how she used to calm you down as teenagers, by playing with your hair. deep down you knew you shouldn’t look at her, not this close anyways. nat could smell your cherry perfume, over powering her senses. her plump lips tempted you, sending an ache down to your lower region. she watches you intensely, waiting for you to make a move and wanting you more than ever.

unbeknownst to either of you, logan knew what was going on. he could smell the need forming in your underwear, could practically hear natasha’s dirty thoughts about you. most boyfriends would feel threatened by this but logan was different. he worshipped the ground you walked on and he always valued your happiness. why would he deny you of the love you deserved?

"i-i'm gonna go grab some wine from the cellar." you stutter, leaving her there alone.

nat nods, walking back into the living room to breathe.

"you can kiss her, if she wants you too." logan says aloud, tapping off the end of his cigar on the ashtray next to him.

"you aren't just saying that so then you would have an excuse to try and kill me, are you?" she squints.

"she won't make the first move. too afraid that she'll hurt me." he replied, ignoring natasha's comment.

"you wouldn't care?" she questions.

"no."

"what if i wanted to do more than kiss her?"

"its up to her."

logan watches natasha's eyes cloud with lust at the thought. how could he fault her? you were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen in all 200+ years of his life. plus he would be lying in he said that he wouldn't find it hot to see you and natasha going at it.

"hey, is red okay?" you ask, holding a bottle up as you rounded the corner.

both logan and nat looked at you with these hungry looking eyes like you were their prey. logan's nostrils flare a little at the sweet scent.

"r-reds fine." nat stutters, her throat was dry at the thought of being back in between your thighs.

"cool, i'll get the glasses."

as you turn to leave, logan calls after you, "can you bring me a beer, sweetheart?"

"of course" you nod, obediently.

when you return, the three of you sit and watch the western playing for a few minutes until logan huffs loudly, sick of this tension and neither of you two doing anything about it.

"are you two gonna kiss 'n make up already, or what?" logan teases.

natasha and you find each others blown out gaze. both of you needed this. needing closure.

"fuck it." natasha mumbles to herself, getting up and coming over to you.

the redhead straddles you on the couch, caressing your jaw in her delicate palm. you nod your head, letting her know that you wanted this as much as she did. from her first taste of you, she knew it would be impossible to pull away.

⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒

nat chases your plump kiss bitten red lips, backing you up until your legs hit the edge of the bed. your hands are up her shirt and under her bra, squeezing the soft flesh of her tits. rubbing your thumb over the blooming bud and listening to her pretty moans against your lips. she lays you down and strips herself of her clothes. you rush to do the same, wiggling out of your jeans.

behind nat, you see logan walk in with his beer in his hand and take a seat across from you in the corner. knowing that he's watching sent shivers down your spine. it wasn't until natasha grabbed your chin and squished your cheeks together that you realized you had been staring at logan.

"it's not his turn, it's mine." she taunts.

you nod your head and babble out an apology. she removes her grip on you only to lay down in between your thighs. a sight that you missed dearly.

"natty, please don't tease." you whine, arching at the soft kisses she trails inside of your thighs and hip bones, avoiding where you needed her most.

she smiles at the fact that your already shaking with anticipation. surprisingly, she looks over at logan.

"keep her legs spread for me, would ya'?" she asks.

he nods, already hard in his blue jeans. logan joins you two on the bed, sitting behind you and letting you rest comfortable against his chest. he places your legs over his to keep you open for natasha. she groans, sucking a dark plum bruise on your hipbone. meanwhile, logan's leaving similar marks on your neck and along your shoulder.

"please." you whine, wiggling your hips in her face. both natasha and logan can smell your arousal in the air. it's intoxicating.

"patients, baby." she scolds before licking a fat stripe over your clothed cunt.

"w-wanna feel you nat."

without hesitation, natasha tears the lacy material from your body and spreads you open. it's been years since she had last seen you in this position. she needs a moment to capture your angelic imagine.

"there's my girl." nat says, talking to your cunt. completely ignoring you and logan like you two aren't even in the room.

"isn't she a fuckin sight?" logan finally speaks up.

right as you open your mouth to beg her to do something, anything, she leaning in again to lick from your entrance up to your button.

"missed this pussy, принцесса..." nat says sloppily into your folds. "so wet for me."

"uh-uh." you moan, throwing your head back.

logan turns your chin to capture your lips, letting you moan freely into his mouth while his hands come up to massage your tits. fingers pinching and rolling the stiff buds in his palms.

natasha spends a while making out with your cunt; taking her time to savor the honey that pours from inside of you. she pulls back for a second to spit on your mound, letting it drip down before inserting her middle and ring finger. hers weren't nearly as thick as logan's but they are longer and still feel perfect in their own way. she watches how you and logan move together while she pumps in and out of you. for once, she didn't feel jealous of logan for having you. instead it made her heart swell to know that someone else loves you just as much as she does.

despite all the pleasure you felt, selfishly you wanted more. your right hand moves to intertwine itself into nat's red locks, pulling her head back to where you needed her most. her tongue swirled circles over your swollen bud, teasing it playfully. her fingers move faster inside of you as she grinds her clothed cunt against the mattress, moaning against your folds.

"ya' feel good, sweetheart?" logan asks, placing a soft kiss on your hairline.

"sooo good, lo." you purr, gazing up at him with doe eyes.

his low chuckle makes you clench down had on natasha's fingers. all that can be heard in the room are low moans and wet squelching noises. nat kitten licks your button until you reach your first high of the night.

too caught in euphoria to control your legs wrapping around her neck, squeezing her head with your thighs. your loud moans were barely audible to her at this moment. the red head could die happily right here, right now.

carefully, she pulls off of you.

"you did so good for me, принцесса." she praises, stroking your thighs.

as soon as natasha sits up, you reach out and kiss her, tasting yourself on her plump maroon lips. she melts into the kiss making it easy for you to flip her over on her back. logan gets up again, unbuckling his belt as he watches the two of you grind on each other in messy, uncoordinated movements.

"wish you could fuck me like old times, nat." you mumble, kissing her chest and leaving little love bites behind.

"i-i could..." she hesitates.

already ahead of her, logan's rummaging through her backpack and hold up a familiar contraption.

"lookin' for this, red?" he smirks, tossing the strap-on onto the bed next to her.

the last time nat wanted either of you two think is that she just dropped by to fuck you and leave but what can she say? she's prepared for anything.

"is this alright with you, pretty girl?" she asks you in between lightly nibbling on your pulse point while you grind your cunt against the soft skin of her abs.

natasha pulls back to look at you. her hand cradles your jaw, waiting for your answer.

"i need it natty." you nod. "need you inside of me."

those words make her blue eyes turn a stormy dark grey. in a rush, she puts it on and lets you line yourself up to the silicone. despite all the time apart, the two of you fell back into a seamless rhythm together. one of her hands rests on your hip, helping you move up and down while the other paws at your chest, rolling the stiff bud.

"uh-fuck." you whine, throwing your head back when she angles her hips up with a sharp snap.

"that's the spot, huh?" she smirks, watching your pretty face scrunch up as you try and focus.

weakly, you nod your head and babble something incoherent to both hers and logan's ears. it's not the same feeling that logan gives you obviously but the way natasha's fucking up into you makes you feel just as good.

logan makes his way over to you, palming his boxer covered cock as he leans down to make out with you. willingly, giving in as his tongue explores your mouth messily with a hand in your hair. natasha uses this to her advantage, bringing her thumb up to your clit and circle it slowly in contrast to the jolts of her hips hitting yours. logan swallows every little moan that spills from your plump lips.

" 'm so close, natty." you whimper, tears in your waterline as logan's sucks on your pulse point.

"is that so, baby?" she mocks with a light roll of her hips.

"d-don't stop, please." you beg, bouncing faster to chase your high.

natasha and logan were both wishing that they could feel you clenching around them instead of the silicone.

logan's big rough hands help you bounce in rhythm as soon as he sees your movements slow down.

"c'mon, princess." logan groans in your ear. "we wanna see you fall apart for us."

"cum for us, sweet girl." natasha purrs, sitting up to suck on your tit and picking up speed with her thumb.

that's all it takes for you to release on top of nat, hips shaking violently while you leaked all over her lap. eyes screwed shut, stars coming into vision as you try to calm yourself down again. it just felt so good to feel the contrasts between her and logan when they fuck you.

carefully, logan picks you up off of natasha's strap. she takes it off and throws it aside, watching logan help you recover.

"don't ya' think natasha deserves something too for how good she's made you feel, princess?" logan asks you.

"mhm." you nod, crawling in between her legs. "wanna thank you properly, natty."

natasha thinks she might cum just from looking at your big doe eyes in between her thighs. you play flat on your stomach, kissing the plush soft skin. her hips wiggle impatiently in your face. the sweet smell of her arousal reminded you of all the other intimate moments the two of you have shared. within seconds, you're ripping off her lacy black panties and tossing them somewhere to the side of the bed.

"so fuckin' pretty 'n so wet." you mumble to yourself as you pull her fold apart, watching her slick drip from her entrance. "is this all for me?"

"o-only for you, baby." she says with a shaky breath.

you lean forward licking a strip from her entrance to her button. your hands wrap under her thighs and pull her tight against your face, letting her use you however she wanted. natasha grinds down on your tongue, moaning when your nose occasionally bumping her clit. she taste sweeter than any other times you've buried your tongue inside of her.

"love how good your tongue feels, baby." she moans, brushing your hair out of your face.

mind fully focused on nat that you don't even register logan shifting around behind you, running his tip up and down your pussy. lightly slapping your clit before thrusting inside of you. his cock stretches you deliciously, making you moan against natasha's cunt. her fingers pulls a bit at your hair from the vibrations. it's always a struggle to get him to fit inside of you.

"tightest pussy in the fuckin' world, i swear." he mumbles to himself, watching you swallow him whole.

logan's thrusts start to increase as he paws at the flesh of your ass. his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly, making it hard for you to keep your mouth around nat. your forehead pressed against her thigh while you try to concentrate, licking your fingers and inserting them into natasha's tight warm cunt.

"fuck!" nat moans, clenching around your two fingers as they reach that spongey spot deep inside of her. "faster, принцесса. wanna cum for you."

her dirty words sent you into a frenzy. using all of your strength left to make her gush. the noises were so lewd it made your head spin. her back arches and soft moans fall from her lips as she tugs on your hair. like a faucet, she's leaking all over your hand, your face, and down on yours and logan's shared sheets.

behind you, logan is too busy trying not to cum inside of you too soon. he's gripping your hips so hard you know that there will be bruising left behind. every now and then you can hear him grunting and smack the fat of your ass, watching as it bounces back at him. the pleasure builds in your tummy. logan's hand snakes under you to rub at your clit.

"f-faster, lo." you whimper, lifting your mouth off of natasha for a second.

"i gotcha, princess." he groans, doing so.

within seconds, you release all over him. the string of moans vibrate against nat's core, overstimulating her until she cums again, soaking your face entirely. logan doesn't last much longer either. he paints your walls white and keeps you stuffed with his cum, only pulling out when it starts to sting a little.

the three of you are quiet for a moment, needing time to recover. who would've thought that two russia assassins and a mutant would need time to recover from anything, let alone sex.

logan's the first to move, going to bring towels and some water. you rest your head on natasha's stomach, she runs her nails against your scalp the same way she would when you woke up from nightmares. a tear rolls down your cheek, thinking about her running away again.

"what's wrong, принцесса?" she whispers, hearing you soft cry.

"just dreading you leaving again." you mutter, afraid to look up at her.

"hey, i'll be here as long as you want me here." she says, lifting your chin up.

"tasha, someone needs to save those girls. dreykov won't stop until someone comes after him."

there's a long pause of silence before she says anything again. her eyes glued to the ceiling, trying not to cry.

"you know, i used to picture a simple life for the two of us. something similar to this actually, minus the grumpy looking man in the kitchen. i wanted to give you a piece of normalcy but i kept running away, afraid i was the one putting you in harms way." she sighs shakily. "i shouldn't have ran. i should've come back. there's so much i couldn't give you but i see that logan can do that for you."

"look, i love logan more than anything but why can't we make it work too?" your question makes both natasha and logan pause, as he returns into the bedroom.

natasha looks up at logan, ready for him to finally yell and kick her out. especially now that she's coming between the two of you. instead he's looking over at you with a spark of love in his gaze.

"i don't think logan would appreciate sharing you full time." she says, avoiding your wide eyed stare.

"i just want my girl to be happy." he responds, lighting another cigar. "think she would be happier with both of us, red."

the time has never been right for you and natasha but who says it needs to be? she's finally back in your life again and you can't risk letting her go again.

"we will help you track down yelena and fight with you to free those girls from the redroom but i want you here with us, natty. please don't go again."

she finally looks down at you and her heart melts. how would she be able to leave you again? not after today. this is where her heart lied, here with you.

"of course, i'll stay принцесса."

[jarofstyles]

Coconuts

idk where this came from tbh but I loved how It came out. 95% smut but I know y'all will never complain about that so :p 

Check out our Patreon for early access and 160+ exclusive writings

WC-4.6k

Warnings- smut, teasing, slight public play If you squint, slight degradation, but lighter compared to our other stuff. Cute

-------

Y/N could feel his eyes on her as she walked back towards him on the beach, his sunglasses doing little to hide the stare down he was having with her body. She’d known that this bathing suit would probably make him a little handsy, but it had been vastly underestimated how much it would distract him. There was not a single word being absorbed around him and she sort of felt like prey as she made her way to the rented cabana, tummy rumbling with both nerves and anticipation.

“What’s this, darling?” He asked as she flipped her sandals off on the raised wooden platform to avoid the spread of sand the best she could. He’d beaten her out here to set up their towels and made sure the daybed was good to go, as Y/N couldn’t handle another full day in the sun and needed the coverage the cabana would offer. He was being a doting and sweet boyfriend and she’d been planning on making him crazy.

“Hm? Oh, I got us those drinks in the coconuts.” She hummed, handing him one. It was part of the charm, their vacation essential, but he didn’t give the drink a second look before placing it on the little side table offered with the package. A tingle ran up her spine as warm hands grabbed the back of her thighs, urging her to step between his spread thighs while his brows furrowed behind the tinted lenses.

“You know that’s not what m’talking about, love.” He winced slightly at the light as Y/N pushed the glasses up into his hair so she could see his mossy eyes, resting her hand on his warm shoulder before taking a sip from her drink. It was a coconut rum cream type of thing and she knew she was going to be wasted on these, but that was the point. Wasn’t it?

But she was playing coy, tilting her head to the side as she gave him a look. “What do you mean, then?” It was exciting to play games with him. To tease him. Harry was a passionate man with a lot of redeeming qualities, but he was the most fun to tease. To watch him narrow his eyes at her and think about how she was most definitely going to pay for it later. It spiked her adrenaline, heartbeat quickening as his hands moved over her ass and to her hips. His thumbs dug into the dips back there, a deep exhale leaving his mouth and washing over her bare belly, heat pooling between her thighs as he leaned forward to press a chaste kiss right above her belly button.

“This bathing suit. I didn’t see you pack it.” He let her off the hook for playing dumb, rubbing his circles into the dips as he watched the corner of her lip temple as if trying not to smile. “I would remember a little thing like this. Barely fuckin’ there, is it?” His eyes found the tied strings at the sides of her waist. That was dangerous and the entire point. It was a deep red, the smallest thing she’d ever worn in public, and tied behind her neck and at her hips with flimsy strings. It was made to taunt him, make him needier than ever, and a bit of payback from the tiny yellow shorts he loved to wear. He knew just how much she loved his thighs and exactly what it did to her to see them exposed. Knowing what she liked to do on his bare thigh, right over the tattooed tiger.

“Oh, this old thing?” She smiled as innocently as she could. “It’s something from a few years back. I think my chest has gotten bigger since I originally bought it, but that’s not a problem… is it?”

“Actually,” Harry breathed. “It is.” He was quick to pull her into his lap, a squeak leaving her as he gave her a dark look. “Because you know exactly what this was going to do t’me and how it was going to make me feel, and you put it on anyway. You, you can hide when that perfect cunt gets wet and sticky. But me?” He glanced around before pulling her further over his lap so she could feel the growing bulge in his own bathing suit. “Can’t do much without scarring the rest of the people at this beach. You’re causing problems on purpose.” The voice he used was hushed and deep, going straight to her core. Of course it was the goal to get in trouble, but his reaction had been better than she anticipated. He shifted her slightly on his lap, subtly moving her over his length under the guise of adjusting her. “How do you think this is supposed t’get fixed? Want me to go have a wank in the restroom?”

“Nuh-uh.” She grinned. “I told you. I want all of you this trip.” Leaning to the side to place her own drink down, he hissed at the movement of her over his growing prick. “You’re not wasting a drop of you. It’ll get fixed, but m’not gonna rush off the beach before I’ve had my drink.” She shrugged, taking her hand that had been cooled by said drink to hold the side of his neck. There was a lot more satisfaction than she could admit when she saw him shiver at the temperature change. “This is my payback for those stupid yellow shorts you wore yesterday.”

Harry knew she could be vengeful. This cat and mouse game that had been him pursuing her had bled into the relationship and he loved that she liked to tease- but he loved that she was seeking a punishment out of it. “You know what I did in return for that?” He clicked his tongue. “I took you to the dressing area and fingered you until you dripped down my fingers. Had to hold your loud fucking mouth quiet, but I took care of it.” It wasn’t doing much good to think of it, especially considering his current predicament of trying not to get painfully hard, but it was one of his favorite things they’d ever done. Making Y/N melt into a desperate, horny mess had been one of his favorite pleasures in life, but knowing she was too needy to wait had stroked his ego.

The roles reversed, though? He wasn’t too sure. It would be noticeable if she was on her knees in the dressing tents, not just looking like an innocent couple leaving more tents open by changing under the same curtain. Her chest was distracting. It was glistening from the aftermath of freshly applied suncream, her breasts on full display and hanging just the way he liked. This bathing suit was his personal heaven. Or hell. He hadn’t quite decided yet.

“So how are you going to take care of me?”

Y/N knew she had been a little cruel, sure, but she could still feel the slight ache from how he’d fucked her last night. She wanted it again, but harder. He’d been a little soft beforehand and she figured he’d make use out of a little motivation.

“Aw, my poor baby.” She cooed, stroking his jaw as it clenched. “Getting hard for me. Can’t help it when you see my tits, hm? Or is it all of it?” There was a moment she pretended to think while he glared at her. “Probably all. But I’m not extremely cruel, Harry. Just giving you a taste of your own medicine. You failed to mention that you made me wait 3 hours until you took care of me.” It felt longer. “So we’re going to sit on this beach for 2. I’m going to have my drink, read my book, enjoy the warm breeze, and you’re going to sit with me. Then we can go back to the villa and you can do as you please.” She hummed, placing a wet kiss to his forehead before standing up from his lap. A towel was tossed his way, which he failed to catch because he was trying to pull her back into his lap. “Use this to hide yourself.” The smugness she felt was unmatched as she grabbed her book and found her way to the other side of the daybed, laying on her back to start the hardest reading session of her life.

—--

Harry didn’t make it easy on her. Not that she thought he would, considering she knew both of their histories of being menaces when in the mood, but she hadn’t expected to be so heavily affected by simple touches.

His fingers drew circles over her exposed hip as he spooned her, pretending to read over her shoulder. Quiet breaths puffed over the side of her neck as he nuzzled into her, sponging kisses there like clockwork. It was chaste enough that she couldn’t really scold him for it, but that didn’t mean it didn’t make her throb between her legs. It was her fault, she was torturing her own self with drawn out foreplay. Y/N rarely ever made Harry wait for it- she was far too greedy- so she struggled with holding her guns as she felt his fingers move further down to the bottom of her stomach, thumbing over the top of the little bathing suit bottoms.

It was a miracle she’d survived that far, and despite it only being an hour and 42 minutes, she thinks that it was good enough.

Pushing her into the villa, Harry’s hands rushed to tug the strings off of the suit, starting with the bottoms. “You evil little thing.” He growled against her mouth, pressing her up against the door as the red fabric fell to the ground and his hand slipped between her thighs. “What was the point of that, hm? You like being bad, pissing me off?” Fingers slid between her swollen, soaked folds and coated his skin just the way he knew it would. “Tortured yourself too. Could have just told me you wanted me to fuck you again and we could have spent the day in here.”

Y/N whined as she felt a digit sink into her, leaning further back against the door as he moved it slowly in and out of her. His fingers were thicker than her own, longer, making it much easier for him to reach places she couldn’t when she pleasured herself. His hands had always been a weakness for her, knowing how skilled he was in using them to create both art and pleasure. Coaxing the perfect orgasms from her since he’d met her. “Y-You teased me first.” She huffed, eyes fluttering as his mouth sucked over a part of her jaw that he knew would make her weaken. “What did you expect?”

“I expected you to be a big girl and tell me what you wanted, rather than parade around in this slutty little bathing suit and make me wait two hours before I could do anything about it.” He grumbled, teeth scraping over skin making her whimper. “I expected you to keep me in bed and spread your gorgeous thighs for me and tell me that you’re the neediest little thing, and you want my cock. I would have done it in a heartbeat. Instead, you chose to be a fucking brat. Because if you wanted to work me up, if you wanted me to be frustrated? It worked.” His opposite hand came down on her bare ass, the slap resonating through the villa and sting making her gasp. “What was the end goal?”

His finger was joined by another, making her eyes flutter and her brain slow down a little bit. He knew what he was doing- he always did. “Just wanted you to feel… to feel like I did. You made me wait and…” Her voice trailed off as it bled into a moan, his fingers hooking just so to hit the spot she needed.

“And?” He asked expectantly. “And what, sweetheart. Because I recall taking care of you. Even soaking, no one could tell. But everyone would be able to see my dick if I didn’t have that towel. Is that what you wanted? Wanted everyone to see me?”

“No!” She hissed. “No it’s- It’s mine. I just wanted, I wanted you to feel what I felt.” Her head fell back against the door with a thump, spreading her legs a bit more. Harry knew exactly what he was doing, he knew exactly what to do to make her weak. His quickening fingers and his hand gripping the side of her ass, he was making her see that she was definitely going to pay for it. “You’ve been driving me crazy the whole vacation and I… fuck.” Her words trailed off, the feel of the heel of his hand tapping against her clit with his thrusts making her brain fuzzy.

“You think you haven’t been driving me insane this whole time?” He asked, tone incredulous. “Think I havent been losing my fucking mind watching you walk around in these little bathing suits and sundresses? Think I haven’t had to be mindful of what m’wearing or what we’re doing because all I want to do is bend you over and hike up those dresses or pull down those bottoms and sink right back where I belong?” His voice hissed against her ear as he kissed over the side of neck, the sloppy pecks making her breathing pick up. “Because I have been fucking insane, I’ve been trying to be decent and make sure m’not hogging you in bed and let you go to the beaches and to the shops and to dinner, but I’d be perfectly happy with you in here, with our view of the ocean and you warming my cock.”

Y/N could feel herself getting close. It was hard not to with how worked up she’d gotten trying to tease him, the way he was talking to her, how his fingers always managed to coax the orgasms out of her faster than anyone else- including herself- ever had. “I would have- I would have, I want that, please.” She begged, which Harry knew all too well what that tone of voice meant. She was deliciously close, the slick of her arousal dribbling down his hand and she was just right there-

And he stopped. Y/N whined, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at him in disbelief. He was so generous with her pleasure that she hadn’t been expecting that in the slightest.

“If you hadn’t been a brat, maybe I would have let you.” He took his fingers from her, bringing them up to his mouth and made a show of licking them clean. Running them over his tongue with a soft hum and making a show of it as she scowled. “Mmm, none of that, my angel. You’ll get what you want. Just be patient.” Without another word he lifted her up, making her squeal as she was carried across the place before being deposited in the bed. Seeing as he was shirtless still, it was quick work to get himself naked, shorts kicked off to the side as he crawled up the bed and found her mouth right away.

She could taste herself on his tongue as he kissed her deeply, fingers finding the knots behind her neck to undo the swimsuit. It was quick work to pull the cups down, exposing the soft chest he had been obsessed with since day one. Pulling away with wet lips, he looked down at her exposed breasts, pebbled nipples calling to him as he grabbed under her arms to pull her up on the bed and stayed right where he was. “You know how cruel it is to have these right in front of my face, unable to do a thing?” His hushed words made her nod. She did know, she knew exactly how much he loved her chest and just how crazy it would drive him. “I know you did, pet. You know how much I fucking love your body.” His fingers plucked both nipples, squeezing lightly to make her gasp.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, feeling the heat throbbing even hotter as she looked at her. There was something in his eyes, the full lust, the desire and hunger that made her feel like the most desired person in the world. Like no one else could compare. Harry had the ability to make her feel as if she was the only one he’d ever had eyes for, the only one he ever would. She wanted to be his forever, hold on to this feeling and let it grow. “I’m sorry, I just wanted you.” Her whine was cute, he thought, but the apology didn’t cut it.

“I don’t think you are, my love. But you will be.” The man’s tongue brushed through the valley between her breasts, tasting the salt of her skin and the ocean air as it moved to the right one. He was getting her wet as he trailed down to her nipple, moving his fingers out of the way so he could do his job.

If you asked Harry if he was an ass or breast man, he’d tell you he was both- but he had a significant soft spot for Y/N’s chest. He’d been obsessed since the first time he saw her, but more so the first time she took her shirt off and let him suck on her. She was so sensitive, the little whimper she let out proving it as her fingers threaded into her hair and she pushed him further into the soft flesh. Hips moving while she tried to grind against his thigh feeling his lips pull more of her nipple into his mouth and sucked on the raised skin.

“Fuck me.” Y/N breathed, Harry’s thigh giving her a bit of mercy as he pressed it against her cunt. It limited how high she could move her hips, but he didn’t stop her from rubbing against him. His lips pulled and sucked, swirling his tongue over the nipple as he groaned against her breast. She could feel his cock against her thigh, feel it leaking over her skin and felt the desperation rising in her stomach to get him inside. She craved it just as much as he did, and had half a mind to demand him to make good on his promise of keeping him tucked inside of her so they could go again and again and again. It was an addiction, how his body made her feel. Desperate and needy, wet and achy, she had the best man to take care of her but he loved to fucking tease. “Inside me, please. I’ll be good, you can do it hard, I just need it. M’empty.”

Harry ignored her, pulling off of her right nipple and switching to her left. This time, though, he kept his eyes open and watched her face scrunch up with pleasure. It was able to be felt smeared all over his thigh as she ground herself against it, making a mess of him before he was even inside of her, but he loved it. Making her this desperate was his favorite thing to do and it wasn’t hard. His girl was sensitive and needy and he took pleasure in making her teary and begging for him. It was his payback.

Y/N mewled as his teeth scraped over the swollen nipple, hips jerking and hands tugging sharply at his hair which only spurred him on further. Sucking harder on the bud and making her keen out loud, hips bucking into the air before he finally released her. If he did too much he could probably make her finish from that, but that was something he wanted to try another day. His dick had been throbbing for hours now, and he wanted some relief.

“Lay on your stomach.” He ordered, watching her scramble to listen. He had gotten his point across and he knew it, a self satisfied smirk coming on his face as he pulled his briefs down and gave himself a few tugs. She laid down just as he said, her cheek to the pillow as she looked back at him with a soft pout on her lips. His sweet girl, desperate for his cock but trying to make it up to him now for being a tease. “Looks like you can listen. I’m so proud of you.” He crooned, kneeling on the bed and finding himself between her spread legs. “Ass up for me, darling girl. Let me see.”

She did as asked again, shuffling her knees so she was spread and tilted up for him. Her cunt was dripping and hot, empty and aching for him to fill her. Her plan had backfired significantly but at the end of the day, all she wanted was his cock. That’s been the goal this whole time. “Please. I need it, H.” She whispered, gripping the white sheets. “Give it to me. I can take it. M’sorry for teasing you.”

“I’m sure you are.” His hand spread her ass open, spitting over her hole and letting it drip down to her swollen clit where he took the tip of his cock and spread it all over her. “You know, I had a plan t’punish you even more, but.. Turns out, I’m fucking weak for this cunt.” He sighed, pushing the head into her and watching it stretch her a little bit. “I’m just as greedy for it. So m’gonna be nice to you and give you what you want, but I’ll remember this later.” His head pulled forward as he sunk deeper in, the hot channel making his brain go a bit fuzzy.

“Fuck, you’ve got perfect pussy, baby.” His tough exterior faded as his hips met her ass, exhaling sharply. “Can’t resist it. Make me a fucking mess every time.” The warm air flowed into their villa through the open door with the sea view, making him pause. Leaning down, he wrapped a hand around her throat and pulled her up to look at it, letting her shaky arms hold herself up as he began to thrust into her welcoming cunt. “Look at where I’ve brought you, baby. Beautiful views, but… This one will always be my favorite.” Lips brushed her ear as the sloppy sound of her soaked cunt being fucked by his prick filled the room. “Seeing you take my cock is my favorite thing. Most beautiful thing in the world, love that you let me own you like this.” His lips pressed against her cheek as she moaned. The firm grip around her throat had her fuzzy, this position making him feel so goddamn deep that she could barely breathe.

“I love it, I love you. Love your cock, love how you make me feel.” She babbled. “Just… Don’t pull out. Please.” Her begging seemed to spur him on, the slap of skin against skin getting louder while he fucked into her. The man was always greedy for her but his sexual frustration was showing, not at all going easy on her. It wasn’t mean, it wasn’t punishment, but pure lust. This was need, and Y/N was happy to be on the receiving end of it.

“M’not going to, baby. Promised you that you could have every drop.” He was nearly purring, breathing a bit heavy but more than satisfied as he fucked into her over and over again. “That’s a lot of love, but m’happy to hear it. Just want to make you happy, make you feel amazing. Don’t have to tease me to have my cock next time… just have to ask me in that pretty voice and give me those gorgeous eyes and I’ll give you anything you want.”

Y/N nodded even though his words sort of went through her. His slight adjustment to his position had him hitting the spot he needed to hit and she was making a fucking mess. She knew she was, hearing the wet sound increasing as he cursed under his breath. It was hard for her not to shudder as she gushed around him, feeling his balls tap against her clit as her watery eyes were forced to look out to the ocean. No words could leave her besides his name and a string of moans. His name was the only important thing, according to her brain.

“Got your cunt all sloppy for me… god, baby… I love you.” He moaned, feeling a little wrecked as he took a glance down to see himself covered in her. Wet and glistening from her how good he was giving it to her, it was another one of his favorite views. “Love my sweet girl and her sweet pussy, m’gonna give it to you over and over… fuck, you’re going to make me cum.” It was hard to keep holding on. Her skin was hot and he could feel he ragged breathing against his palm, her pulse thundering against his fingertips as he worked his prick into her weeping hole. “Never going to stop makin’ love to you, my perfect girl.”

Her orgasm surprised them both. He felt it come on as she whimpered his name, rippling against his cock and squeezing him hard as she shuddered underneath him. Her body fell forwards on the bed and he was done for, releasing her throat to fall on top of her and give a few more sloppy thrusts. A guttural groan left his throat as he buried his face into her neck, feeling his cock pulse and balls tighten as he unloaded inside of her. Keeping himself buried as promised, he ground himself as deep as he could and let it stay deep as his hips twitched, breathing heavy and hot against her skin. “Shit- god.” He croaked, pressing a sloppy stream of kisses from her neck to her cheek. “Fucks sake. Knew I wasn’t going to last a long time but, christ.” A drunken laugh left his throat as she hummed, turning her face with a pout.

“Kissy?” She whispered, lips puckering and effectively making his heart melt. He’d never say no to a kiss from her. It was an immediate wish granted, leaning closer to kiss her but making them both moan as the shift made his cock push further into her. He didn’t break away for a few moments though, pressing sticky pecks to her lips and sighing happily once she laid her cheek back on the pillow.

“Have a really hard time saying no t’you, sweetheart.” He admitted, keeping his face in her neck as he tried to recover.

“Good.” The girl’s voice was still a little shaky. “So you’ll go get me another coconut drink before we go again?”

“Again?” He laughed against her skin, biting down gently to make her yelp. “Fucking minx, my lovely little slut. Course she wants t’go again. I shouldn't have given you the benefit of the doubt. You’re my greedy girl.” Though no one would ever hear Harry complaining about that. His recovery time may need a bit of work if they were going to spend all day here though. “I’m gonna say yes, but only because I want you to lay here and keep my cum inside you.” The man was definitely catching her onto her neediness. “As hot as it is when it drips down your thigh, we don’t want to waste any. So lay here and be pretty for me while I go get you that silly little drink. M’not gonna go as easy next time.”

“Sounds perfect.” The giggle was music to his damn ears. “But don’t forget the cute little umbrella, kay? Need it to be part of the experience.”

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Rooster At 5, Bradley At Night

Bradley Bradshaw x Penny’s niece!reader 10k words (.....yes. 10k. i know)

summary: You've been hooking up with Bradley for three weeks now. You're also hooking up with him tonight.

a/n: this is pure smut. honestly pure smut. 18+ i will now list all the things that you have to look out for. first and foremost i have NEVER written smut before dont kill me pls im trying my best. ok so

name kink, rank kink, choking, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyve had the conversation nothing bad will happen), oral sex!fem receiving, dom bradley, some "good girl" because i am a sucker for that, in general a lot of talking because bradley is A TALKER!!!!!!, a little strength kink? is that a thing? and a shit ton of begging

this can be read as a stand-alone most definitely, but is set in the same universe as "Tuesday Night" and “Not A Coincidence” and "Take Me On A Joyride" so maybe give those a read too?

top gun masterlist

You were behind the bar this evening, a rag in your hands as you wiped down the sticky wooden top for the bazillionth time and hummed along to the music coming from the jukebox. You were behind the bar most evenings, pouring beer and rum and whiskey and mixing cocktails (occasionally taking some sips of your own), smiling and laughing and flirting with customers left and right.

For the past few months now, the most regular of those costumers had been the Dagger squad.

They'd shown up here one random evening and hadn't left since. And it didn't seem like any of them would any time soon.

Not that you wanted them to, oh no. You had grown so close in so little time that it was scary at this point.

"Settle a bet for us, Junior."

Jake slid up to the bar as if it was second nature, putting an empty bottle of beer in front of him and resting one elbow next to it. You looked up at him and smiled, threw your rag over your shoulder and grabbed the bottle, condensation dripping down onto your fingertips. Rooster came up right behind him and your smile deepened even further.

"Hit me, Bagman", you challenged, set two full bottles on the bar top and then rested your forearms against the edge.

Jake grinned at you as he raised his beer in a toast.

"If you had to get with one of us tonight, who'd you get with?"

You didn't even flinch.

"Bradshaw", you said, quick like a shot, and watched Jake's face fall like he'd expected a different answer with just a tiny bit of amusement. You glanced at Rooster, who had already been looking at you, and whose only reaction to the fact that you were literally talking about sleeping with him was a small quirk of his lips.

"Bradshaw? Are you kidding? You- I'll give you a second to think about it, Junior. Don't you wanna think about it for a second?", Jake asked, regaining his facade, letting a tinge of his accent slip as he leaned in and winked at you. "You know, actually think about it. Imagine it. Picture it. Visualise it."

You decided to give him the satisfaction. So you pushed back from the bar top, crossed your arms, raised your eyebrows and eyed the two of them up and down - just because you could, just for the fun of it. Jake was in his usual jeans and shirt, leaning in with a self-assured grin and his hand wrapped around his beer bottle. Bradley was wearing one of those Hawaiian shirts that fit snugly on his bicep, his sunglasses tucked into the collar of the white top underneath, hair on the practically perfect side of unruly and his eyes fixed on yours so intensely that you had to bite down on your tongue for a moment there.

You counted to five.

"Bradshaw", you said again, dropped your arms and grabbed the rag from your shoulder. Jake's lips parted and a betrayed sort of gasp left his mouth before he started complaining - you shook your head and stepped over to the next customer and only allowed yourself to grin when you'd turned away, out of his sight.

You wouldn't give him that satisfaction.

You still didn't know whether to be surprised at this "bet" the both of them had made. You were pretty sure anyway that Jake had been the driving force in that. You knew the two of them well enough by now to not only be aware of their.... you could only call it a rivalry, really, but also of Jake's weird, warped sense of mischief. Maybe he had some narcissism problem or maybe some old trauma response. Who cared? Not you. It made for entertainment every night you were behind the bar. And also every night you were in front of the bar, drinking and dancing with the squad. You loved him, you really did. But definitely not enough to not put a stop to his ego whenever you could.

And if that way was by flaunting how very platonically you felt about him (because he was a self-named womanizer and couldn't understand how anyone could possibly not be attracted to him), you would.

...

It was 2am when Penny told you to pack your things and go. Most of the bar was empty already, except for three or four small groups of people, but those she could manage alone. Usually, maybe, you'd have declined, but tonight....

Well.

Jake had found someone to hook up with after his earlier disappointment and the rest of the squad had left at some point during the last hour too - the rest of the squad except for a particular pornstache guy.

Rooster had said goodbye to Fanboy and Payback ten minutes ago, had assured them he didn't need a ride home, he'd order another drink and then take an uber, had sat down on a bar stool, nursed his beer and watched you clean up and then pack your things. You'd sneaked glances at him now and then, so you knew that he'd watched you.

When you stepped out from behind the bar, he sat up and followed you out of the Hard Deck wordlessly. Armed with a purse, fumbling for your car keys, fighting down the smile on your lips and the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, you took a second outside to close your eyes and breathe in the mild evening air.

Then two arms sneaked around your waist. You let out a sigh as warm breath hit your neck.

"So you'd rather get with me than Bagman, hm, Junior?"

You chuckled, pushing back a little, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to relax for the first time tonight.

"I think you know very well that I'd rather get with you than Bagman, Rooster", you muttered, running your hands up his, up his arms, up naked skin until you could slide your fingertips underneath his shirt, up his shoulders... "I'd rather get with you than anyone."

He pressed a kiss right below your earlobe, bit down softly on the same patch of skin, soothed it again with a kiss.

"Oh, I know", he laughed quietly into your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. You settled even further into his arms. "I'd rather get with you than Bagman, too."

You had to laugh as well - the image of Hangman and Rooster was truly funny. But it was difficult to keep laughing when Bradley pressed more and more kisses to your neck, trailing a line of them down to the hemline of your shirt, nuzzling his nose in there when he couldn't go further. You tilted your head back a little to rest it against his shoulder, a pleasant flush rising up within - a comfortable warmth, the knowledge that you were safe, secure, protected. The way he always made you feel.

"Just to be clear - I do get to get with you tonight, right?", you asked, a grin on your lips because you knew the answer very, very well. Rooster chuckled into your ear and let out a hum.

"What do you think?", he muttered, one last, open-mouthed kiss pressed against your skin before he pulled away, pulled at your hand to twirl you around, pulled a squeal from your lips, one that conjured a smile on his face every time. "Take me home?"

...

The ride home was silent except for the radio in the background, but you were pretty much tuning that out. The steering wheel was sturdy in your hands, the night lights bright and blinding and your concentration on the streets and the car was waning ever so slowly, ever so steadily because Rooster's hand was slowly, steadily inching up your thigh. He'd put it innocently just above your knee when you'd strapped yourself in, his thumb sweeping in circles over the fabric of your jeans, but by now he'd brushed so far up that you were finding it hard to direct your thoughts back to driving.

Luckily, the drive back home only took ten minutes.

You weren't sure you'd have survived even a second more. He squeezed your thigh one last time as you turned the ignition off, then unbuckled his seat belt, opened his door and got out and you were left alone in pure silence for exactly two seconds. You took a deep breath in and out. One day, and you knew that, Bradley would be the death of you. He could get you all riled up with so very little that you felt like you were going mad sometimes. In a very good way, of course.

And just as you were lamenting on the bubbling anticipation in your stomach, on the images your brain conjured whenever you were close to him, whenever you were touching him, whenever-

"Madam", Rooster smiled, leaning one arm on the opened car door and reaching the other hand out for you to take. "Would you do me the honours?"

You could only shake your head and grin at him, giddiness making you squirm in your seat as you pulled your hands away from the steering wheel and put one of them in his.

"I could never deny you any of your wishes, kind sir", you said, allowing him to pull you out of the car and into his arms instead. He hugged you close, tilted his head down to nuzzle your nose with his - you had to put your head back to be able to look into his eyes when you stood this close in front of him, nevermind kissing him.

"Really?", he smiled, his fingertips dancing along your side, hooking into your belt loops, pulling your hips flush to his. You grabbed at his biceps to steady yourself. Or maybe just because you could. "Any of my wishes?"

You let out a sort of agreeable hum and grinned up at him.

"Whatever you want", you nodded.

It was the truth, simple and just. You'd do anything. You'd let him do anything. You trusted him like you'd never trusted anyone before and up until now, you'd only ever been rewarded for putting that kind of trust in him. Something about this felt right. Something about him felt right.

"What if I wanted to spend the rest of the night between your legs?", he muttered, eyes flicking down to your lips as your breath hitched.

"Well", you whispered, because whispering was the only thing you still knew how to do. "As I said, I won't deny you anything."

His eyes met yours and his lip quirked up and then, before you could do anything more, he'd dropped down, wrapped an arm around your legs and hauled you up. You let out a gasp and crossed your arms behind his neck in reflex, a soft, shocked "Rooster!" falling from your lips. Bradley only chuckled, closed the car door with his hip and started carrying you to your front door with seemingly no problem whatsoever.

Gods. Sometimes you forgot just how strong he really was.

But then, in moments like these, he picked you up and threw you onto your bed or pushed you up against a wall and you remembered. And you felt that sting in your stomach that had you press your legs together every time.

Now you didn't even have to remember. Now you were dangling safely from his arms, your hands linked behind his neck, your fingertips buried in his hair, your eyes wide as you watched him, as you tried to steady your irregular breathing because shit, this was happening. This was happening like it had been happening for over three weeks now.

He sat you down carefully in front of the door, but you were in such a trance that you needed to take a moment (or two or three) to stare at him, at this man, this fairytale prince, this god. Your man, your fairytale prince, your god.

"You need to unlock the door, honey", he chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and turning you so you were facing the door, his chest pressed to your back, his breath fanning the exposed skin of your neck and right, right, right, the door! The door. The lock. The key. The key in your purse! That key. The key for your door. Right. Key, key, key.... Where the hell was that goddamn key? You were sure it was somewhere there in your purse. You'd put it in there like you always put it in there. Key, Key, Rooster, Rooster's arms around you, Rooster's hands brushing over your skin, Rooster's breath on your ear, Rooster between your legs, Rooster- Key! Key, key, key---

There.

At the very bottom of your purse, finally! There it was. You pulled it out with an almost triumphant sound, unlocked your door to Rooster's soft laughter behind you and stumbled into the dark hallway in a half-intoxicated way that shouldn't have been possible because you hadn't drunk anything tonight.

You threw your purse to the side and switched on the light and turned to Rooster just in time for him to have closed the door behind him and reached for you, his hands on your hips - so big, splayed so wide, his fingers so long - crowding you against the wall, his breath fanning over your mouth and then, finally, his lips on yours.

For the first time today, you were kissing him. He was so wide, so tall, so huge, everywhere all around you, his arms, his hands, his chest, his shoulders, his neck, his chin and his cheeks and his lips and his hair. Your hands sunk into that hair, tugging at the roots and grabbing his head as though your life depended on it, depended on keeping him safely, steadily right on front of you, right here, pushing you against the wall and leaving you practically no room to breathe, to touch, to feel anything other than him.

You wanted him.

With every fibre of your body, your soul, every particle, every cell, you wanted him. You wanted him everywhere all at once and you wanted him now.

So you bit down on his lip and allowed his tongue in and brushed your hands down his shoulders, down his chest to pull off that god-awful Hawaiian shirt that you admittedly found very attractive, but that was so incredibly, annoyingly in the way right now. You tugged it off his chest and down his arms and didn't care when it fell to the floor - that was where it should be, that was where it belonged.

You reached for the top then, for his waist to brush your fingertips below its hem, pushed it up, up, up until you could feel bare skin, washboard abs against your palms. That satisfied you for a moment - for a moment of running your fingers along the sharp edges of his stomach, for a moment of feeling his body heat, for a moment of being closer.

Luckily, Rooster had always been quite in-tune with you. He noticed the very second that your satisfaction turned to impatience, that your roaming, wandering hands weren't exploring, weren't enjoying anymore but were searching, longing for more - for more skin to touch, more, more, more.

He pulled away from your lips to get rid of his top, leaving you a panting, wide-eyed mess and by god, he'd only just gotten started. He hadn't even touched you. How were you already so wound up?

You blamed the fact that you'd had to stare at him from a distance for the past five days (you'd had late night shifts, he'd had early training days) and decided not to think about it further.

Especially not as his top joined his shirt on the floor, as he looked up at you with red smudged on his chin, kiss-swollen lips and unruly hair. His chest was heaving, his breath coming shorter than usual and his pupils had grown so dark you had to swallow hard.

Without thinking, you reached out and tried to wipe your lipstick off his skin.

That made him grin a little.

"Rooster?", you muttered, looking him right in the eyes. He let out a hum as he stared, a bit lost in thought it seemed and still quite shamelessly, only further at your lips. "Either take me to the bedroom or take a step back so I can get on my knees."

He let out a chuckle then and met your eyes, digging his fingers through your belt loops and pulling you a few inches away from the wall.

"I think you may have forgot something, honey", he said. "What about that wish I made?"

You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to let your imagination run wild.

Rooster only grinned, and it seemed that your expression showed him just how much you didn't mind his wish at all, because he reached around you, grabbed the backs of your thighs and lifted you up, so effortlessly that it made you blush a little. You didn't even have to hold onto him, only had to wrap your legs loosely around his hips as he carried you through the hallway and into the bedroom.

That allowed you to focus all of your attention on pressing your lips to his skin.

He was warm. So warm. You trailed your lips all over his jaw, his throat, his shoulders, his bicep, and then, when you couldn't go any further down, Rooster had already found the light switch in your room and was dropping you onto your bed, pulling a surprised gasp from you.

The mattress was soft and bouncy as you landed on it, heat in your cheeks and your throat tightening at the sight in front of you - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw standing at the foot of of your bed, half-naked, sweaty, breathing heavy and looking down at you like he was a predator and you were his prey, like he wanted to devour you whole.

Which he did.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows at the same time that he advanced - pounding on you, almost, with a grin on his lips that set ablaze the slumbering flame in your abdomen. You didn't know which one of you got rid of your shirt, only that a few seconds later his lips were on yours, his hands reaching for your bra clasp and your shirt discarded somewhere on your floor.

You breathed hard against his mouth as his fingertips brushed along your back, along your bra, then slowly slid it off your shoulders, down your arms...

Cold air hit your breasts just as Rooster pulled away from you to fling your bra away to join your shirt on the floor, leaving you cold and panting, your eyes closing and opening again and staring at him as he stared at you, as he admired you, all bare, soft skin right there, right in front of him, just for him and nobody else.

You felt his palms against your ribcage then, pushing you down onto your back, onto the mattress, your breath hitching and your eyes closing in anticipation. He dropped a kiss onto your collarbone. Another just above your cleavage. Another onto the top of your breasts. His thumbs brushed right below them.

You wanted more. You always wanted more. You needed more.

But he was just trailing kisses along your breasts, never lingering for long enough, never biting or sucking or licking and as much as you were enjoying this... You needed more.

"Rooster", you sighed, dragging your hands through his hair because you needed more. He hummed against your skin. You could feel the vibration all over. "Roos, please."

He grinned - against your skin at first, before he looked up and right at you. "What was that?"

You bit down on your lip. God damn him. He always did this. Every single time, he did this. And the worst part was: You didn't even mind. You didn't mind begging, you didn't mind pleading, you didn't mind doing so much of it that you couldn't do, couldn't say anything else anymore. So you did just that.

"Please", you repeated, a little breathlessly. Rooster's grin widened.

And then he pulled away completely.

You could have screamed. You honestly thought, just for a second, that he would leave you lying there - panting and begging for him, with a bare chest and arousal heating up every part of you. But of course not. Of course not. This was Bradley fucking Bradshaw. He didn't leave you unsatisfied.

No.

Rooster got up from the bed only to grab you by the waist, to pull you down to the edge and kneel down on the floor. You swallowed hard. He fiddled with your shoes first, loosening the laces and taking them off, tugging down your socks and your pants and oh dear lord, you couldn't concentrate on anything he was doing.

He was kneeling in front of your bed. You bit back a moan from that alone.

Any and all forms of Bradley Bradshaw were jaw-droppingly gorgeous, but to you, nothing would ever top the sight of him on his knees for you.

You tuned back in when your jeans thumped to the floor, when his fingertips danced softly, teasingly up your calves, up your knees, up your thighs. You clenched your jaw when he reached your underwear, when his eyes met yours again in one final reassurance that this was what the both of you wanted, and then he pulled it down your legs too and hooked his hands behind your thighs.

Your eyes fluttered shut. You took a deep breath - one, two, one, two.

One, two.

One, two.

You frowned and blinked open your eyes again.

Rooster was staring at you, blatantly staring at you with a knowing smirk plastered on his lips and his fingers digging into your hips, sure to hold you in place, not allowing you to push even an inch closer to him.

"Roos", you whined, for what already felt like the dozenth time tonight, your hand sinking into his hair, splaying out, tugging at the strands, trying your hardest to pull him in. He didn't move.

"Yes?", he asked, with that grin just deepening, telling you he knew exactly what he was doing.

Of course he did. Of course he'd make you- God, of course, of course, of course! It had been his idea. It had been his plan, his wish, his goddamn idea and now he was making you-

"Fuck", you grumbled, teeth digging into your bottom lip. You didn't want to do this. You didn't want to do this because he hadn't even had you lying here for five minutes and he already wanted you to do this. "Roos, just-"

He bit down softly on the skin of your thigh then, pulling a surprised gasp from you, leaving your sentence hanging half-finished in mid air. You had to tilt your head back, had to throw a hand over your face because gods, you couldn't look at him now! Not with his breath meeting your thigh, with the feeling of his moustache against your skin, not with that grin on his lips. If you did, you'd melt in less than a heartbeat. You weren't about to give in that easily.

At least that was what you told yourself. You repeated it in your head like a mantra - he had barely touched you, he was the one who'd wished for this, you wouldn't... you weren't... you hadn't...

Fuck!

"C'mon honey", he encouraged, pressing a kiss high up on your thigh. You let out a shaky breath. He was close, so close now and he had you wound so tightly, so incredibly tightly that you felt like you were burning up from inside and-

"Bradley", you gave in, the word falling, tumbling from your lips in almost a moan. "Please, Bradley, please."

He was on you in a heartbeat. Licking a stripe up your slit, tongue flattened and you cried out, digging your fingers deeper into his hair, pulling, pushing, back arching off the bed as he finally, finally gave you what you wanted, what you needed. He dove in like a starved man, licking, pushing, tasting you, devoured and ravaged you, took everything and gave everything at the same time.

Bradley was a god. You'd never had a man eat you out like this until you met him.

His hands pressing against your hips to hold you down, to keep you right there for him, not letting you move an inch from him, only letting you push impossibly closer, your mind, your body screaming more. More, more, more. More of him. More from him. More him.

His tongue found your clit. You cried his name into the vast nothingness of your bedroom, eyes squeezing close and hand cramping into the sheets next to your head, thighs clamping around his head, caging him in, his palms forcing your back still on the mattress.

You could faintly make out your own moans, your own voice as his tongue circled, traced and dipped -

More.

He drew your clit into his mouth. You felt the coil in your stomach tighten, send a shiver through your body, make your legs twitch.

Please.

He sunk his tongue into you, brushed your clit, up and down and everywhere.

Bradley.

You were coming close. Close, so close. Every inch of your skin was tensing in anticipation, clenching, clutching. You babbled something of the sort, not listening to yourself, not able to, not starting or stopping, controlling none of your words, none of the sounds falling from your lips. Bradley loosened one of his palms from your hips and immediately you were pushing, arching up, held down a heartbeat later as he pinned his arm down again, his tongue working you, not faltering once and-

pressure.

His thumb on your clit.

You screamed out his name.

Your nails dug into his scalp. Your heels clasped around his back. Every single nerve in your body was on fire. And Bradley didn't stop.

He worked you right through your high, circling his thumb on your clit and sinking his tongue into you, holding you down, holding you close until you were panting, gasping, your legs unclasping from his head, your fingers loosening in his hair, loosening from the bedsheets, your eyes fluttering open, meeting his and only then did he relent. He pulled back softly, stilling his thumb and pressing a kiss to your thigh, watching you as you slowly came back to reality, back to him.

You blinked once. Twice.

He pulled his thumb from you as he rose up from the floor, running his hands along your sides instead, along your ribs, your breasts, your throat, studying the irregular rise and fall of your chest, mapping out your body beneath his. You watched with parted lips as he brought both his hands steadily down next to your head, as he leaned down to meet you in a kiss - heavy and heady and intense and full of all the right emotions. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

But before you could do any more, press yourself up or pull him down, he was gone again, hot breath meeting your lips and that familiar smile crawling back up onto his face.

"Enjoying yourself?", he asked, tilting his head to the side a little, catching the light of the overhead lamp. Wetness glistened on his moustache. You bit down on your bottom lip, doing your hardest to conceal the smile that was fighting to get to the surface.

Instead, you let out an agreeable hum and brought your hand up to his stache to wipe at it, to wipe some of you off him and admittedly, you already knew that wouldn't do much - but the simple act of innocently cleaning him off like that, fingers brushing above his mouth, just caressing his skin, it made something in your stomach churn.

"How about you? Now that we've checked one wish off your list... Any more?", you muttered, trailing your fingers along his cheek, down his scars, following those lines of skin you knew so well, burning them into your mind, burning him into your mind. You'd never seen anyone as beautiful. You didn't think there was anyone as beautiful out there. Your breath hitched, fingertips catching on a birthmark, before you snapped your eyes back up to his. "Any more wishes at all, Bradley?"

A sort of grunt left him as you did your best not to grin - you knew just what buttons to push, didn't you?

"You know", he muttered, dropping his head, brushing his nose down the sensitive skin of your throat. "I could think of a few more things."

"Yeah?", you asked, just on the right side of breathless again, skin tingling wherever he decided to place a few deliberate, almost chaste kisses. "Like what?"

He'd worked his way down to your breasts again, still holding himself up with both his hands.

"I could fuck you nice and slow, just like you deserve it", he said softly, the words flowing from him as easily as if he were talking about breakfast the next day. Rational, sober, collected. You, on the other hand, could feel the wetness pooling in between your legs again. You couldn't believe how reasonable, how practical, how composed he could stay while he said things like that - how he'd fuck you, how he'd eat you out, how he'd pull every single thought from your mind with his fingers and his mouth and his cock.

"Or", he went on, completely unbothered still, stopping in between words to drop kisses onto your breasts. "I could fuck you hard and fast, because that's what you want, right?"

A moan tumbled from your lips all of its own accord, your eyes fluttering shut again. He was conjuring visuals in your mind that had you clenching your legs together, hands clawing their way back up into his hair - you needed something to keep you here and now, to keep you grounded.

"I'm right, honey, aren't I?", he muttered, obviously satisfied with himself. "You want me to fuck you rough, don't you?"

You were sure you'd crossed some border into heaven and just hadn't realised it. This man would truly be the death of you one day.

"Yes", you breathed, scratching at his scalp, tugging at the roots of his hair. "Yes, please, Bradley."

You could feel his grin against your bare skin.

"You look so pretty begging for me, honey", he smiled, raising himself up and before you could complain much about it, before you could as much as open your eyes again, he was dropping a kiss to your lips, long and longing, parted lips pressed against each other, breathing each other in.

Then he pulled away from you completely and you did let a whine fall from your lips after all, raising yourself up onto your elbows to blindly follow after him as he straightened up and then bent down to pull off his shoes, his socks, to fumble with his belt - all in fucking slow motion apparently, that's how long it took, two hours just to take off his goddamn socks and you were just sitting there, staring, blinking, hazy mind clearing up the way it always had to after you'd been so close to him, watching, staring, watching, staring...

An eternity, it seemed, until you grew too impatient and decided to take matters into your own hands. Quite literally.

You pushed yourself up, reached for his belt yourself, pulled it from its buckle, unhooked it, opened it finally, finally, finally! and blinked up at him again, all wide eyes and smudged lipstick and swollen lips and Bradley felt pretty sure he died a little just then - this had to be heaven, you had to be heaven. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear and your tongue ran along your lips and he had to swallow hard.

His jeans fell to the floor, chased quickly by his boxer briefs and you took a deep breath as you looked at him, leaning forward, leaning in to reach for him-

He took both your hands in his and pushed you down on the mattress again, another of those pathetic whines dropping from your lips at being denied the feeling of him.

"Fuck, Roos, please", you begged, sounding pitiful to your own ears by now, pleading for something you knew he'd give to you anyway, just so goddamn impatient that you couldn't even help the words rolling off your tongue.

He let go of your hands, reached for your waist instead to pull you up, to tug you firmly farther up the mattress until he could follow after safely, until he could nudge your knees apart and trail a line of kisses up your shoulder, his hands finding their usual spot next to your head.

"What was that, honey?", he grinned against your skin, holding himself up above you to look you right in the eyes.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulled a moan from yourself and a similar groan from him, squeezed your eyes shut and had immediately forgotten what it'd been you'd said before. What it'd been he was asking about.

He brought one hand down to your thigh, squeezing tight, holding you even tighter to him, and pressed his hips down into the mattress, pulling another moan from you and, again, a similar groan from himself, making sure that you couldn't move against him on your own, that you were completely at his mercy.

As always.

"Please", you whined, desperate now, trying to rock your hips against his and not succeeding, not succeeding because he was holding you still, holding you down, holding you helpless and defenseless, withholding the one goddamn thing you wanted from him right now. And after all that talk too! "Roos, please, Bradley, do something."

You were far from whining now, breathless and moaning and sobbing basically, hands clawing at his shoulders and nails digging into his skin, begging and pleading and he was just holding still, doing nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing and you wanted more, you wanted something, anything.

"Look at me", he panted then - the only sign at all that he was somehow affected by this as well. "Look at me, honey, open your eyes."

And what else were you supposed to do but follow that command, grant him that wish?

So you forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look at him.

A thin layer of sweat gleaned on his skin. His stare was fixed on you and you alone. And his pupils had dilated so far that his usually hazel eyes were practically black now. You sucked in an unsteady breath.

"Good girl", he praised and you were done for.

You could have come from that alone.

Those two words, breathed into the nothingness of the room, onto your lips, onto your naked skin, sent a shiver down your spine, down your back and your hips and your legs, a shiver so violent that it pulled a moan right with it, a string of them. You barely heard Bradley's groan above you before he pulled away just the slightest bit, pulled away to brush his hand down your side, down your chest, down your hips, between your bodies, to reach for himself and stroke his tip through the wetness between your legs, your back arching off the mattress, into him, into more of him and-

"Wait", you panted.

Bradley froze immediately. His expression shifted to worry in the span of half a second, furrowing his brows and pulling away from you.

"What's wrong?", he asked, still breathless. You closed your eyes and took a breath, tensing, forcing yourself to keep down on the mattress, even as cold settled on your skin now that he wasn't warming you up anymore - inches away from you again. Considerate idiot.

"Just-", you stopped, opened your eyes, looked right at him. "Do you think Jake suspects anything?"

Bradley kept still for a few seconds. A shallow breath and another, your chest rising and falling and you had a hard time thinking, even now that he was barely touching you anymore. You were wound tightly, and you'd been so close, and now...

"You're not seriously thinking about Jake right now", Bradley said, almost accusingly.

You had to admit, it was a bit strange - you were naked, panting, your legs wrapped around his hips, and still you were thinking about Jake, about the bet, about what you'd said hours ago at the bar. You hadn't even been thinking about it, really. It had just come to you, overwhelming you, and you... you had needed to get it out. Still, you did have to admit, it was absurd.

So you bit down on your lip to conceal a smile, a grin, trailed your hands to his hair to brush it behind his ears, almost innocently (but just almost).

"I'm sorry, I just...", you whispered, stroking your hands down his scalp. "We've kept this between us for three weeks now. I don't want to have ruined that."

Bradley shook his head at you, dropped it to his chin, his curls brushing your nose, your cheeks, and sighed onto the skin of your throat.

"You're unbelievable", he muttered, dropping a kiss between your breasts now that he knew you weren't uncomfortable or afraid or anything of the sort in the slightest. Your breath hitched again. You didn't want to talk about this. You wanted him inside you, wanted him to make good on his promise from before. But you knew you had to, because otherwise the thought wouldn't leave you alone, even though the coil in your stomach, the heat in your body screamed bloody murder at you for it.

He looked back up, raised his chin again to meet your eyes.

"Don't worry about Jake", he reassured, one hand starting to softly, just so very softly, brush up and down your side. You had to swallow. "He won't even remember tomorrow."

He dropped another kiss onto your skin, a little further down, that grin, that moustache against your ribs.

"And I'll make sure you won't remember either, pretty girl. Alright?"

You nodded so quickly you almost got a head rush, eyes fluttering shut in anticipation, head tilting back just the slightest, your fingers digging into his hair as his lips trailed down your skin, the covers rustling as he settled further back, as his breath ghosted over your center again.

"Need to hear you say it, honey. Say it for me."

"Please", you babbled instantly, not even thinking, not even close, not when Bradley was giving you such easy instructions to follow. "Please, Roos, please."

You could feel him shake his head, obviously unsatisfied, breathing hard, hands travelling up and down your thighs and nothing more, leaving you in some state of being touched but not really being touched and you felt like going insane again.

"Try again, honey", he tutted, and you were already about to plead, to beg even more when he went on - "Look at me, baby, look at me and try again."

You blinked open your eyes, tilted your head down to look at him, all pretty and wide-eyed, just like he'd asked, your fingers cramping in his hair.

"Please, Roos-"

He raised his eyebrows and you knew then, you knew where your mistake had been - you should've known before, you should've-

"Bradley", you moaned. "Please, Bradley, I want you. I need you."

He grinned at that, dropped a kiss to your thigh before flattening his tongue against your folds again, drawing another moan from you. Your eyes stayed fixed on his, but only because you knew he wanted you to, only because you knew he needed you to. His palms splayed out against the backs of your thighs, keeping them still, as always.

His tongue drew a circle on your clit and you arched off the bed, into him, a whine tumbling from your lips, followed by his name. He pulled back much too quickly, much too easily, with a much too satisfied grin on his lips, looking up at you for just a second before he leaned down to drop a kiss to your hip.

"Bradley", you complained, cut off by your own moan when you felt his fingers trail through your wetness instead of his tongue, all soft and slow and you rocked your hips against his hand - more friction, more touch, more, more, more.

You hadn't been kidding when you'd said that you wanted him. That you needed him.

Bradley chuckled, kissing his way up your body again, one hand next to your head to hold himself up just the way he'd done before, but his fingers brushing, stroking, his thumb on your clit, moan after moan spilling from you. You needed more. More.

You tried to shift closer, tried to cant your hips into his palm for more, blinking up at him and whimpering and fuck, Bradley was just human after all, how could he deny you anything if you looked at him like that? So he started drawing little circles with his thumb, little circles on your clit, and pushed a finger into you.

You rewarded him with the soft sound of his name rolling off your tongue, your hands reaching for his arms, clawing at his biceps. You had needed this, had needed him and now... Now you needed more. More, even as he pulled his finger from you and pushed in again, starting in a slow, easy rhythm, drawing little moans, quiet whimpers from you. You rocked your hips back onto him, pushed for more. More.

"More", you voiced your thoughts, begging, pleading again - you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted, you weren't getting what you wanted! And you'd been so close, you'd been so goddamn close, but now he was just lazily pushing his finger into you, with one of those grins on his lips that told you he knew what he was doing incredibly well too. He was a tease, a goddamn tease, and you-

"More what, honey?", Bradley asked, interrupting your thoughts, your spiraling thoughts as his finger moved ever so slowly, teasing, playing.

You let out a whine as he stilled completely, his finger nestled inside you, touching you but not touching you enough, not nearly enough and he'd make you go crazy one day, he would! You tried to push your hips into his hand. Not that it did anything.

"More what?", Bradley asked again, looked at you as you refocused on his face, his eyes because you knew he'd want you to. He always wanted you to look at him.

"Please", you whispered. "Bradley."

His smile deepened, but he didn't move.

"Nice try, baby", he chuckled. "But that wasn't the question."

You grumbled and tilted your head back, squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. You wanted more. And he was making you say exactly what.

Putting the power in your hands, it seemed - but you knew it wasn't that. He'd already promised you to do just what you wanted, had said it so easily, so soberly that he'd left you dazed. And now he was asking you to do the same.

You couldn't. He knew you couldn't.

So you let out a small whimper, let your head fall to the side to look at him again, eyes wide and teeth digging into your bottom lip and kept still as best as you could, even as the desire, the need to fuck yourself on his finger grew with every passing breath - trying to make sure that he wouldn't tease you further. He'd done that before already, you knew that he could and he would.

He seemed to have realised it too, your legs, your hips calm now, your eyes fixed on his.

"Please fuck me, Bradley", you said softly, only a little breathlessly, a little nervous around the edges, doing your best not to let your restraint show. You weren't used to just saying stuff like that out loud. It was different, somehow, to say it, and to say it right to his face too.

But as much as you tried to hide it, your body still had the same reaction - breath coming shorter, heat shooting straight to your cheeks, the coil in your stomach tightening again.

Bradley's eyes on yours didn't make it any better.

Neither did his grin as he pulled his finger from you, pulled a moan from your lips right with it, as he brushed it through your folds, up and down before his fingertip stopped on your clit.

"Fuck you how, honey?", he asked. He wanted you to lose your mind, you were sure of that. You bit down on your lip, furrowed your brows, forced yourself to think, to keep thinking even though he was drawing circles on your clit now, bringing you back to the endless loop of more, more, more in your mind.

"Fuck me-", you panted, starting and stopping, closing your eyes. "Rough, please, Bradley. Please."

He pulled his fingers from you entirely, chuckling as you mewled and blinked up at him again, as you watched him raise his hand to your lips. You parted them in reflex, let him push his fingers into your mouth, rest them on your tongue. This, finally, was something you felt much less nervous about. So you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his fingers clean.

Bradley had you well acquainted with the taste of yourself by now. Not that you minded.

You made sure to keep your eyes fixed on his as you brushed your tongue along his fingertips. He let out some sort of sound caught between a moan and a groan and a curse and, maybe, your name, and you had a hard time keeping your grin concealed as you sucked, spurred on not only the fire in your own abdomen, but in Bradley's as well, red heating up your cheeks and your legs growing restless.

You were getting impatient again. You needed more.

Luckily, it seemed that Bradley had about enough of this as well.

He pulled his fingers from you with a pop, shook his head with a grin, trailed a line of your spit around your breasts, around your nipples.

"You look sinful", he muttered, dropping a kiss to your lips before you could even begin to think about a response, all open mouth and breathing each other in, the taste of you on both your tongues. "Tell me again how you want me to fuck you rough, honey. Just once more. Can you do that for me?"

You nodded, nodded without thinking, panting a bit now, pressing your legs together at his voice, at the look in his eyes, at... at him, at everything about him. You needed him. You'd do anything he asked.

"Fuck me rough, Bradley. Please."

His eyes darkened further. He brought his lips down on yours again, firmer now, heavier now, claiming your mouth, your tongue, your lips, claiming you, back to the familiar, thrilling predator and prey game that the two of you had abandoned at some point along the way.

"Good girl", he rasped.

You let out a pitiful moan. God, this man would absolutely be the death of you.

Good girl.

You couldn't press your legs together any further, couldn't possibly get any more friction, could only whine and whimper and moan and wait, wait as Bradley reached between your bodies and finally, finally, finally pushed into you.

You'd been waiting for this for the past five days.

You let out some pathetic sounding sob of his name as he pressed his hips snugly to yours, stretching you out in the best of possible ways, dropping his lips to your throat, to your neck. You clawed at his arms, at his shoulders, pulled him close to you, even closer. Eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, breath hitching.

Bradley gave you the entirety of half a second to adjust to him, half a second in which you could barely get past the moan of his name before he was moving, thrusting, his cock sliding in and out of you, drawing sounds you'd have been embarrassed about in any other situation.

But you could barely hear them.

You could barely do anything other than moan, anything other than scratch, hold, claw at him, anything other than let him wrap your legs around his waist and push in, pull out, push in again, his hold on your thigh so firm you'd see the marks tomorrow.

He fucked you with a relentlessness that reduced you to a mess of numb limbs, that pulled every last thought from you, one by one - with a rhythm, unfaltering, unwavering, with soft grunts and moans rolling off his tongue, with his mouth moving against your skin, working his way up to yours.

You met his lips in a frenzy, your hands tangled somewhere in his hair, your nails scratching somewhere down his back, your legs wrapped around his hips, your lips parted, your moans swallowed, his cock sliding in and out of you, the delicious drag of him building, setting alight the coil in your stomach.

You'd been waiting for this for too long. You wouldn't last much longer, not after he'd already pulled the first orgasm from you. Not after he'd been building you up for so long.

"Bradley", you moaned against his lips. "More."

He pulled back an inch and you blinked your eyes open, focused on him, on the blush on his cheeks and the rise and the fall of his chest as he slowed down a bit, drawing another whine from you, feeling different now, slower yes, but more deliberate maybe, more teasing maybe, hitting other spots, dragging it out, feeling more and less intense all the same and - most importantly - letting your close, so close grow weaker and weaker and weaker.

"You know-", Bradley panted, letting his thumb brush over the skin of your thigh, loosening his grip just the slightest. "You know how to ask, pretty girl."

A sob made its way past your lips. You wanted more, you needed more - you'd be good for him, you wanted to be good for him, but you forgot, you brushed right past it when he had you like this. So wasn't it his fault, really?

"Fuck me harder, Bradley", you whimpered - you'd lost the ability to feel embarrassed somewhere along the way. You didn't care anymore, not with his cock so slowly sliding in and out of you, not with his eyes on yours, not with... no, not anymore, you needed more now and you were desperate to get it, already rocking your hips back onto him in search of more - more friction, more touch, more him.

He pressed his lips to yours again, back to claiming you, back to firm, back to teeth and tongue before pulling away, pulling out, pulling another wail from you as he sat back on his ankles, hard and panting.

Then his hands clasped around your waist and you had no time to react before he had turned you over, your face smushed into the pillow, fingers reaching up to dig into the sheets.

He thrust back into you in one swift motion.

And you screamed.

You didn't know how he did it - you didn't want to know, really - but he hit that sensitive spot inside of you instantly, the new position allowing new depth, allowing new touches, new feelings, new and more and you couldn't think, could only touch, only feel.

Only touch, only feel him.

The drag of him, the push of him, the way he hit all those spots he needed to hit to have you up there, to have you close within seconds again.

He trailed his fingertips along your spine, sent a shiver through your body as he fucked you rough, just like you'd asked of him so very, very nicely. He reached your neck, reached around to your throat and when his fingers brushed along your jaw, he clasped his hand around it and pulled. Pulled you up, right to his chest, sweat sticking to your skin as you moaned his name.

You let your head drop back onto his shoulder, gave him more skin to touch, more of your body to claim, more of you to make his as he thrust relentlessly into you, as his other hand brushed between your legs, up your thighs until his fingers met your clit, pushed down and pulled an even louder moan of his name from you.

His hand closed around your throat at the same time.

You choked back a gasp, breath hitching, back arching off him and into him both, more and less clashing in your mind because this was what you wanted, this was what you'd begged him for, but all of it so suddenly, following each other so closely - too much, not enough.

You clenched around him.

Bradley let out a moan - his lips against your ear, the sound of it in every fibre of your body, of your mind, of your soul. And that was it for you.

You came with another cry of his name - a scream, a sob, maybe, or none of it, you weren't sure - maybe you let out no sound at all, rendered silent for once. The world was white for a second, your mouth dry, your throat hoarse, pleasure coarsing through every vein, every limb, every muscle, every bone.

You went slack against him. Your legs gave out, your eyes fell shut, your arms, your hands loose at your sides, and the only reason you didn't fall back onto your mattress were Bradley's arms around you - on your throat, around your hips. His fingertips circling your clit still, his hips snug to yours as he bit down on your shoulder, as he reached his own high, his moustache scratching deliciously against your skin, grounding you as your breath slowly came back to normal, as you won back the feeling in your legs.

You stayed still for a minute - just catching your breath, allowing yourself to take whatever time you needed to come back to yourself, to really notice the way Bradley held you up all on his own, the way his chest felt against your back, the way he had his lips pressed to the skin of your shoulder, the way his thumbs brushed ever so softly up and down, one along your throat, one along your stomach.

You never wanted this to end.

You were warm and safe and satisfied in his arms.

A slow smile spread on your face. Bradley's breath fanned softly over the shell of your ear. You could feel your own heart beat in your chest.

"Satisfied now, honey?", Bradley rasped, voice rough in all the right ways, his lips ghosting over your neck. You let out a soft hum in agreement. He chuckled against your skin.

"I'm gonna let go of you now, princess", he cautioned (you could just so push back the whine that wanted to escape) before ever so slowly, ever so carefully pulling his hand from your throat, pulling his arm from around you - softly pushing down on your back instead, hands wrapped around your hips again, laying you back down on the mattress and then turning you over. The bed was cold in comparison to him. Cold and lonely.

He had to pull out as he lay you down and that whine left your lips after all - you were empty and cold and lonely now and you wanted him, more of him, all of him again. Your legs were mushy and your mind still reeling, but you didn't have to think much anyway, not when you knew just what you wanted. You reached out, arms, hands in mid air as you tried to grab him, any of him.

He was sitting back on his ankles, running his hands through his hair, meeting your eyes as he saw you reach out for him. He looked positively exhausted.

You got hold of his hands and pulled him down, onto you. He brought them - and yours right with them - down next to your head in reflex, effectively pinning you down, and though neither of you had planned that, you still had to fight back a smile.

You were breathless, chest still heaving with the sticky intoxication of the moment, sweaty and hot and satisfied, truly, and you wanted him to wrap you up in his arms now and let you fall asleep on his chest.

Instead, he leaned in with a grin and kissed you. Kissed you with all the fiery passion fading into heady contentment, slow and deliberate, because he had all the time in the world now - it was the middle of the night and both of you were growing tired, your bones heavy, your muscles aching deliciously, your thoughts quiet, lazy almost. The middle of the night where romance could now dominate what had before been lust's reign.

That was what this felt like, Bradley's body on yours, his skin sticky with sweat, his fingers intertwined with yours, pushing down into the mattress. This felt like golden honey dripping down onto the reality of the moment, like gods' ichor flowing in your veins, like unnecessarily long and flowery metaphors for a feeling you felt too afraid to name this early on.

Bradley pulled away, let go of your hands and sat back once more - you followed him on some invisible kind of string, pushing up onto your palms, blinking at him in confusion.

He dropped another quick kiss onto your lips with a chuckle.

"Do you want me to carry you to the bathroom?", he asked, a grin playing on his lips, his hands brushing over your ribcage, your stomach as though he, too, had some carnal need to keep touching you, to keep his fingertips moving over your skin at all times.

You closed your eyes, allowed the smile on your face to grow as wide as it wanted, and nodded at him.

"Yes, please, Roos", you mumbled, bathing in the yellow light of your bedroom lamp, in the soft buzzing of the ac, in the rhythmic tic-toc of your kitchen clock. In all these daily-life things, because they weren't daily-life right now. Right now, Bradley had just fucked you, right now, Bradley was sitting in front of you, right now, Bradley had his hands on your body, right now... Right now, you were happy, happy and satisfied, content with the world.

"Back to Rooster, are we?", he asked, drew his hands back from you and got up. Your smile deepened.

"I thought you liked your callsign", you quipped back innocently, eyes opening again as he wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off of your mattress, into the air, just because he could, just because you wanted him to. You didn't think you'd ever possibly get tired of his strength. He was a bit like your own, personally crafted superhero.

"I do", he muttered. You crossed your arms behind his neck, pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "But the entire squad uses it."

"Oh", you said, exactly like that, because oh, indeed. "So when I say Rooster..."

"I think of work."

You pulled back a bit to look at him, even as his eyes were focused on the wall, trying to find the light switch for the bathroom.

"And you don't like that", you concluded, teeth digging into your bottom lip as a thought struck you. "You don't like thinking of work, Lieutenant?"

Bradley froze.

Bullseye.

"What did you say?"

His eyes focused on you, fixated on you, his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed. You did your best try at an innocent smile, at a doe-eyed look somehow, but you doubted you achieved anything even remotely close.

"Lieutenant", you muttered again, heat pooling in your lap once more simply at the look on his face. You'd uncovered another one of his layers and you were already anticipating the consequences. "Do you want me to beg again?"

[upsidedownwithsteve]

If you’re still in the mood, could you write something for my camp!Steve fav boyfriend? I love him so much🧡🥹

18+

“I can’t believe you managed to lose an oar.”

Steve huffed, squinting at you in the sunlight from his seat across from you. The small rowboat was almost floating in circles now as the second oar disappeared downstream.

“You say that as if it was my fault,” Steve grunted, trying his best to steer the boat in the direction of the camp, with no real success.

You snorted, poking a toe into the boy’s stomach, your shoes abandoned in favour of lying back on the bench under the sun, your dress hiked up high on your thighs to feel the warmth. “It was,” you laughed, squealing when Steve grabbed your foot and squeezed.

“Just as well it’s our day off,” Steve mused. He raised a hand to shield his eyes from the glare on the water, craning his neck to see the lump in the distance that was Camp Upside Down. “I don’t think we’re getting back anytime soon. The current isn’t on our side.”

You sighed, too dramatically for you boyfriend to think you were actually annoyed. You sat up, stretching before leaning back against the wooden sides. “What a shame,” you pouted, pushing your sunglasses - Steve’s sunglasses - onto your head. “However shall we waste our time?”

Steve didn’t get a chance to ask what you had in mind before you were bringing one foot up to prop against his knee. The skirt of your summer dress falling to the tops of your thighs, smooth skin exposed under his gaze. His brows shot up, his hand slipping on the remaining oar before he swore, grappling before it slipping into the water too.

“Easy, sailor,” you laughed, grinning at his excitement. His cheeks were pink, rosier than before when only the sun affected them. “You okay there?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve waved away your concerns, his free hand slipping over your calf, bringing your foot to lean higher on his thigh, your legs falling open further. “I’m fine, keep going, baby, don’t let me stop you.”

You snorted, all affection but you continued like you’d planned, fingertips trailing over your own legs to bring your dress up higher, spread thighs showing off the bikini briefs you hadn’t gotten to get wet yet. A forest green colour, tied at the sides of your hips and so, so easy to make fall apart. You fingered the ribbons, teasing, eyes on Steve’s as his lips fell open at the mere suggestion of you baring yourself to him so publicly.

“Babe, you’re gonna fucking kill me.”

“Boo,” you pouted, brows drawn together. “Here I was, just getting used to having you around.”

Steve scoffed, a choked laugh that trailed into a groan because you were sliding two fingers across your covered cunt. “Normally I’d have something smart to say to that,” Steve breathed, “but there’s like, no blood in my brain right now.”

Grinning, you let your foot trail to his crotch, pushing a little at his hard cock through his sport shorts. You played dumb, head cocked to the side as you leaned back onto your elbow. “I wonder where it’s went to?”

“Princess—” Steve warned.

“Harrington,” you bit back.

“C’mon,” he pleaded. His hands were back on your leg, rough and warm and wrapping around your calf until his fingers were trailing upupup and tracing the edge of your bikini briefs. “Gonna lemme see?”

You pulled at one side of the strings, the material falling loose and exposing one hip. Steve swallowed audibly. It would be too easy to pull the green fabric to the side, to let him see how wry you were, how much you loved the idea of him getting to see you like this out in the open. How much you got off on putting on a show for him.

How much you loved to win.

“Say please, pretty boy,” you asked him prettily, your voice all soft and saccharine.

Steve glared at you, knowing this game, knowing you always won. He swore when you pulled your dress higher, a small hand running down the soft pudge of your navel until your fingers dipped into the briefs, toying with your folds. You moaned, eyes fluttering, tongue on show as you brought the same fingers to your lips.

You made a show of licking your digits, sucking one into your mouth as you met his gaze, acting coy, feeling triumphant.

“Please, princess,” Steve rasped out, his cock pressed hard to his shorts, twitching for your attention. “Please?”

[joeloverture]

sea-cret obsession | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist | updates blog pairing: dad's enemy!yachter!joel miller x f!reader summary: [no outbreak] your dad's always had a superiority complex when it comes to his place at austin's finest yacht club. when joel miller joins the club, not only does he dethrone your dad — he also becomes your newest obsession. warnings: (18+ mdni) yachter!joel, dad's enemy!joel, age gap (mid 20s/mid 50s), alcohol, joel is implied to be older than reader's dad - don't read too far into it, reader wears a bikini (anyone can, i promise!), fantasizing, creepyish joel but reader's into it, soft!dom joel, porn with a paper-thin plot, m!receiving oral, throatfucking, facial, cum-eating, f!masturbation, blowjob in the captain's chair, daddy kink (oops), thigh riding, dirty talk, praise, degradation, pet names, aftercare [no use of y/n] word count: 2.9k a/n: this was supposed to be a ficlet for @iamasaddie's ✏️game. this is not a ficlet. please suspend your disbelief, this concept simply fell into my lap the moment i saw the wonderful moodboard aly put together for me. go check out the other fics, most of which are much shorter than mine and are absolute brain candy, that stemmed from aly's game!

Austin is hotter than the hinges on the gates of Hell, and you haven’t stopped sweating bullets since climbing out of Lake Travis. After an afternoon of floating belly-up in your bikini off of the dock of the yacht club your dad frequents, your need for a drink finally outweighed your need for aimless swimming.

Your bare feet are still burning from the hotfooted walk across the wooden deck into the bar. Water droplets cling to your skin and leave a pattern of stippled concrete in your wake. It’s been a few hours you’ve seen your dad around the club, having already gotten into a pissing contest with new club members over horsepower and amenities. Your dad’s the type to always want the biggest and the best: the most decks, the biggest wine fridge, the nicest galley — because God forbid he lose his running ten-year superiority to a newbie.

So yeah, you need a drink. You don’t even have to order; the bartender, Callie, simply slides your usual order over, which you nurse while watching a preseason football game. You haven’t bothered to sit down, your hip popped out with your elbows propped up on the granite countertop.

You don’t even notice the wolf whistle from behind is directed at you until a man sidles up next to you, flashing a smile at Callie. He looks like he belongs in a yacht club, curls styled and sculpted neatly around his face down to where the collar of his blue blazer begins. Some of the buttons on his striped shirt are undone, and your eyes, much to your chagrin, linger at the slice of tanned chest peeking through the fabric.

He looks you up and down, unabashedly licking his lips when he sees the crease of your thighs. “Sweetheart, you’re much too pretty to be entertainin’ the ragtag kinda men around here.”

It’s not the first time you’ve been hit on by the yachters at this particular club, but it is the first time one of them has caught your eye. “I’m not–” you start before you hear the telltale sign of your dad’s laughter coming from close by. You turn around, drink in hand as he rounds the corner, sunglasses on and a towel around the back of his neck. 

Your dad’s expression immediately sours with a speed you’ve never seen in him before. His lips draw tight at the sight of you – or maybe the sight of the man next to you.

“Joel,” your dad says, separating from his entourage. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulder and pulls you into his chest. “I see you’ve met my daughter.”

“Seems it,” the man, presumably Joel, nods, flagging down Callie for an old fashioned. The glass sweats condensation along his sturdy hand. He holds eye contact with you while he sips, only looking away when he runs his tongue along the rim of the glass. “Oughta let me take ‘er for a ride one day. Bet she’d appreciate the fine machinery of a real boat.”

You don’t miss the innuendo to his words even if your dad doesn’t. You scrub your hands along your sides, your sunscreen-sticky skin dewy beneath your palms. You shush the part of yourself that bets you’d appreciate it, too.

“Your boat is maybe good for getting to the retirement home across the lake,” your dad snaps, squeezing your shoulder. He pushes his sunglasses up his nose. “C’mon, kiddo, let’s head home.”

You find your flip flops at the bottom of your beach bag, barely having the time to kick them on before your dad is practically pulling you out of the yacht club. He gives half-hearted waves to his usual boating buddies until you’re in the parking lot, surrounded by heat shimmering over the blacktop. The scalding hot leather seats burn the backs of your thighs and the small of your back as you settle in. With a purr, the air conditioner blows a fresh burst of wind in your face.

“What was that all about?” you ask when he starts the engine.

Your dad clips his sunglasses on his polo shirt, gripping the steering wheel ten and two with a winded sigh through his nose. “Fuckin’... rookie with his triple-decker Ferretti.”

Joel looked rich. But not Ferretti rich. “Who the hell in Austin owns a Ferretti?”

“That son of a bitch, that’s who. I don’t want you runnin’ amok on Joel’s boat, you hear me?”

“Ain’t planning on it,” you respond as if you don’t already know what’ll happen if Joel propositions you again.

You see Joel again soon, but only in passing. A wink behind your father’s back, a drink from the gentleman across the bar that was only coincidentally Joel. The locations of these run-ins are always different. Sometimes you walked by each other on the dock. Sometimes he’d give you both a quick wave from across the water before he sped off, leaving the boat rocking on the stirred up tide and your dad cussing up a storm.

Today’s almost-tryst happens on the dock. You’re walking past Joel’s designated dock in a bikini that you’d nearly thrown out because of its snug fit. You have to smother your disappointment when you don’t see him on the top deck sipping a beer. You know better than to be disappointed over the man who your dad has not only claimed as a mortal enemy, but also claimed as the antichrist. With the thoughts Joel gives you when your hand is between your thighs, it might not be too far from the truth.

You think you have most of it figured out – he’s rough, he has to be. With how relentless as he is on the waters, it makes no sense for him to be anything else. His fancy, custom belt buckles snicking as it comes undone so he can yank his jeans down and get inside of you. Those chains he always wears would hang in your face, swaying with every roll of his hips into yours as he chases his pleasure deep inside of your–

“Woah there, darlin’,” a honeyed voice coaxes you, a muscled arm darting out to stop you in your path. “Almost walked right into the lake.” Your head snaps up to look at Joel, the very inconvenient object of your fantasies. You swallow the quickly-forming lump in the back of your throat. “You sure you ain’t had too many?”

“Positive,” you say. You haven’t even done a shot s0 far today.

“Mmm, alright.” The playful glint in his eyes doesn’t seem too convinced. It makes your heart stutter before you remind it to keep beating. “Tell ya what, you’re welcome to ‘sober up’ on my boat.”

You look between where your dad’s dock sits empty. He’s out with his co-workers today, shooting the shit too much for their own good. Then you look between Joel and his boat, the beauty of a Ferretti that’s just two steps away.

Mouth already watering at the possibilities, you say, “I do remember you promising me a ride, old man.”

Joel’s lips curl into a knowing smirk, and he makes the long step from the dock to the boat, hand held out for you. You don’t hesitate to let him help you aboard. 

You’re on your knees in front of the captain’s chair before he gets to the middle of Lake Travis. “Old man,” he mocks above you with his legs spread as far as they can go. You kitten-lick his hardened cock, making sure to lap up the obscene amount of his precum. There’s certainly one part of Joel that doesn’t need to go to a retirement home, and it’s in your mouth. You suckle at the leaking head of his cock while his strokes your cheek, only pulling away to spoon a drop of his precum from your lip onto your tongue. “You like suckin’ an older man’s cock, pretty girl?”

You nod eagerly, taking him deeper so you can tongue the vein along the underside of his cock. From that, he groans, head slumping on the headrest so he can gather himself. You spit a generous amount into your hand, wrapping around the base to properly suck him.

“Bet there’s a whole ‘nother lake in that skimpy lil’ bikini of yours, ain’t that right?” You nod around his length and go a little deeper. He’s heavy on your tongue, long and girthy all at once. He presses lightly against the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him, but you wouldn’t pull away from him even if the yacht itself set on fire. He moans as you start to bob your head up and down. You rub your thighs together just thinking about what his cock could be capable of between your legs. “Mhm, I know, baby. You wanna push that outta the way and give it a rub for me? A rub for your real daddy?”

A choked whimper punches its way out of you. His hips jerk from the vibrations, unintentionally pushing himself further down your throat. You expect it to be too much, but it isn’t. You pull away from him, taking a quick breath as you wrap your hand around the wide palm seated on his thigh and raise it to the back of your head. “Please fuck my throat, daddy,” you pout up at him, a mixture of your spit and his precum dripping down your chin and into your cleavage.

Another groan tugs its way out of him when he looks down at you. He cups the back of your head and brings his cock back to your mouth. “Can’t say no to such a gorgeous fuckin’ face. Gonna look so damn good covered in my cum.” You keep licking his tip, not wanting to miss a single drop of him. “Go ‘head and put a hand on your pussy, baby. Rub that clit that daddy’s got all throbbin’.”

And how could you ever say no to him? Your hand is down your bikini within seconds, peeling your tacky panties away from your cunt so your fingertips can rub circles along your clit. A circle against your swollen core pulls a moan from you right as he thrusts into your throat. He starts out slow, tentative as he pushes all the way into your throat and then pulls all the way out. His second thrust is much harder, stifling your breathing for a moment as a strangled noise of pleasure leave his parted lips.

He nudges you further down onto his cock, burying your nose into the triangle of skin exposed by his rumpled button-down. You force down the gag that builds in the back of your throat. Joel keeps your mouth speared on his cock with shallow rolls of his hips into the warm wetness of your mouth. You whine, prompting a hearty chuckle from him. “Good girl, daddy’s good little girl. Keep playin��� with yourself for me.” He smirks down at you. “Ain’t much different than what you do in your own bed, huh? Pussy just cryin’ for some cock, I bet.”

You moan in agreement as your eyes flutter shut when you rub your clit harder, harder, harder until arousal is smeared all over your knuckles and across your mound. “Nuh-uh,” he says with a punctuating adjustment of his hips. You gag, spit webbing through Joel’s happy trail. “Eyes on me.”

You’re satisfied to find him just as debauched as you feel. Strands of his usually put-together hair are out of place along his forehead, and his golden chain glistens with sweat. His hands grip the arms of the captain’s chair, spread on the tanned leather and exerting dominance over your kneeling silhouette. But you aren’t fooled. There’s a certain rosiness to his cheeks, a flare to his nose, that lets you in on the secret: he’s just as wrecked, just as in deep as you are.

You pull up and immediately sink down on his cock again, pleading eyes looking up at him, asking him. I want it daddy. I want you. And then he’s fucking your throat in earnest. His hips buck up to meet the back of your throat. You struggle to keep up with his size, his pace, but you suck his cock even with the knowledge that you won’t know how to explain your sore throat or raspy voice to your dad.

Joel squints down at you, absorbing the seeping spit from the corners of your raw lips, your droopy, ecstasy-laden eyes. He sighs, sinking down into the chair as he grinds his cock into your mouth and moves your head up and down his length. You take the hand that isn’t playing with your clit and reach to grab at his balls, kneading them. A narrow breath trips out of his lips. “Nasty bitch. Fuck, baby. Daddy’s close. Keep – keep doin’ that.” You drag your tongue along that bottom vein again, kneading one of his balls and making sure that when he pulls you off of his cock, you treat the head to one final taste. 

“Open up, slut,” he coaxes. His cock twitches. He jerks himself once, twice, and then cums, rope after rope hitting your damp skin. His cum is hot, sticky, and you’re too preoccupied with trying to catch some of his release that your hand stalls over your cunt. You whimper when his cum lands on your tongue and follow it up by swallowing. Joel’s breath is unsteady as he looks down at you, cock softening in his lap. “Good girl,” he praises, reaching out to run his thumb along your stained skin. Drop by drop, he feeds you his cum, and you lap it up just as eagerly as you’d lapped him up. 

You pull your hand out of your bikini when he’s done, tacky arousal stretching between your fingers. Going back on your haunches, you suck in a deep breath through your abused throat. 

Joel pats his wide, thick thighs above you, the same ones you’ve been fantasizing about since that first day in the bar. “I promised you a ride, didn’t I?” A familiar, hooked smirk pulls at his mouth. Your face lights up in recognition and you practically scamper onto his thigh, stumbling as you tug your bikini out of the way to settle yourself on the linen coral shorts he has on. Joel laughs, a noise that has your cunt leaking onto the fabric, clit fluttering from the friction. Heat pulls tight in your stomach.

His hands land on your hips, guiding you back and forth when you hesitate at first. “Grind on daddy’s thigh, baby. Wanna see you cum on me.” Your head tips forward, forehead slotting against his shoulder when you start to push your hips into his. Need springs awake in your stomach when he drags you forward. A frayed moan tumbles out of you from his near-manhandling. You rut into Joel, bouncing, grinding yourself on him in the same way that you’d imagined yourself doing at least a dozen times before this.

“Daddy,” you whimper when the muscle goes taut underneath you, plucking something in your cunt. At the same time, a speedboat passes Joel’s yacht outside, leaving the ship rocking on the water in time with your movements as you ride his thigh. You yelp, a strained noise as the pressure intensifies on your clit. “Close!”

He grips your hips even tighter, bounces his thigh up against you. “That’s it, that’s it. Let it happen baby, give it to daddy.”

You come undone with the taste of his cum still rich on your tongue and his words ringing in your buzzing ears. Your orgasm whips through your body and leaves you shuddering against his center, halfheartedly continuing to roll your hips up against him. His thumbs rub circles into your skin while you come down. You suck in a shaky breath, Joel’s palm stroking the small of your back. “Did good for me, baby. Look real pretty when you come. Real pretty.”

You give him a shy smile, and he leans forward to kiss you, a brief moment of gentleness amidst his usually ubiquitous harshness. He pulls away with a tiny pat to your ass. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You stumble off of him on shaky legs, leaning against the captain’s console. Joel pulls his shorts down his thighs and tucks his cock away, the wet spot your cunt had made on him beyond visible as he stretches himself out. He fishes around in a drawer in the galley for his baby wipes and joins you back at the console. He takes them to your face, wiping down where his cum had hit your skin. He even dabs gently at your thighs. Orgasm bliss clings to the edges of your vision still, and you can’t help but lean into him as he takes care of you.

“Could take you for a real ride, now,” Joel says with a moderate shrug. “Nice cove on the west side of the lake, good for a quick swim. I’m sure your dad would throw a fit if he knew, but I’m sure you’re good at keepin’ secrets, too. Got a real good mouth on ya.”

You playfully punch his shoulder with a roll of your eyes, and in that moment, it feels like you’ve known Joel much longer than you have at all. Like this isn’t your first time on his boat, and this wasn’t his first time being in your mouth. “Alright,” you begrudgingly smile at him. “Whatever you say, old man.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes as he starts the engine.

[yzzart]

HII

Can I request something with Tom Blyth related to the hermes camp he went to?? Something fluffy and snowy

"Watching the snowflakes."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: you and tom enjoy some free time at winter camp.

word count: 431!

"This place is so beautiful!" — You commented in an enthusiastic tone, admiring the environment and the elegance and exuberance of the camp's landscape. — "We need to come here again, and i've already put it in our future plans." — Settling into your seat, you brought your cup, which contained coffee, to your lips; tasting and observing the light snow that fell in the surroundings.

"We really do." — Tom replied, looking at something on his cell phone and then directing his eyes to you. — "And maybe, take the guys with us." — He recommended, mentioned, discreetly, the cast; your head nodded in agreement and made a mental note to talk to them when you got back home.

Hermes' winter camp was a fantastic and fascinating place, perhaps, it could be included in one of the best places you have ever set foot in; completely enchanting your eyes and everyone who was present. — The calm mixed with small, faint songs from the birds that flew overhead, the trees decorated with snow and the mountains were stunning. — In fact, you had no words to describe the place.

If you had the opportunity, you would stay in that environment for a long time together with your boyfriend.

"We can ski later or even after here." — The oldest suggested, tilting his head and thinking about the plan with a distracted smile and making contact with his foot on your leg under the wooden table. — "What do you think, dear?" — He smiled waiting for your answer.

"A great idea." — You replied, running your hand over the warm fabric of your coat. — "Maybe, a snow competition or snowball fight?" — Tom laughed, imagining the scenario and wishing it would actually happen.

"Excited to see you lose, sweetheart." — Tom commented with a touch of teasing and amusement, picking up his sunglasses, which were on the table and next to your coffee cup, and putting them on. — Tom's laugh echoed for a short distance when he saw your surprised expression against his boldness.

"No chances!" — Your voice exclaimed, amused.

Taking advantage of the moment, you grabbed your cellphone, which was near your coffee cup, and quickly entered the camera and directed your device at your boyfriend. — He understood what it was about and picked up your coffee cup, forming a discreet pose. — And then you took a photo.

Saving the photo, you turned your device so that Tom could see the result and asked you to send it to him; and in the second moment, you sent it. — And you admired it and decided to put it as your cellphone wallpaper.

[undiscovered-horizon]

[When the curse activity rises around the country, you reluctantly return to the school to help the sorcerers. Gojo Satoru seizes the opportunity to plead the case of his lovesickness. If you came back, maybe you and him can come back together, too?]

You've often wondered how it would feel to come back. Would you be excited? Or would the weight of the memories push you to the ground? How many things would be different and how many would you recognize?

A bitter chuckle leaves your mouth. You're a grown woman and yet you're nervous like an 8-year-old with mismatched socks. The overhead sign Jujutsu Tech feels imposing as though the genius loci of the school is telling you to turn back and leave; just like it did when you were a teenager, entering an unfamiliar world of unfathomable possibilities. The girl you used to be, afraid of what the future is bound to hold, could never imagine the respect and awe with which your name is spoken now. It's almost miraculous, really.

But there are more important things at hand than melancholy.

You sigh, pushing yourself to walk forward. The rock steps feel the same under your feet as they did years ago, the wooden floorboards inside the entry room still creak in the same note. For what it's worth, nothing about Jujutsu Tech seems any different than it did then.

Nothing.

You know very well he's sitting in the corner, staring at you. It's a habit he has picked up quite a long time ago - watching, observing, studying. He used to do that only to learn a few things about you and appear as charming as he possibly could. But with time this little unnerving habit stuck around.

At first, he looks laid-back. Overconfident, as he usually is. Although you know him a little too well and so you notice the way he's crossing his arms on his chest, his shoulders tense and raised. The greatest sorcerer in the world is nervous when in the presence of his high school sweetheart.

"Long time no see, Satoru," you finally speak up.

"You're even prettier than I remember," he answers, bothering to sound casual. He almost succeeds.

"And you're exactly the same, it seems."

You stare him up and down. The blindfold in place of sunglasses and the plain, black robes make him appear more professional. Still, Satoru's untamed white hair gives him a juvenile look. Maturity is supposed to arrive with age but perhaps the age arrived alone in his case.

Gojo sits further back on the old couch. He rests his hands behind his head. A half-grin curves his lips - the very same smile that always made you equally annoyed and weak in the knees. Truly, if Satoru wasn't as charming as he is, you'd have strangled him years ago.

"Ah," he sighs. "Perfection can't be improved."

Crossing your arms on your chest, you give him a playful look. "Then how come I'm supposedly prettier?"

Suddenly, Gojo leans forward. "Good question." He rubs his chin in faux thoughtfulness. You've learned better than to trust his little theatrics, no matter how amusing they are. "I never understood how this works. Just when I thought you're equal to a goddess, you make all of them look plain."

You feel your hands shaking. If your heart doesn't slow down soon, you might have a serious problem. As warm as your face gets, you hope the blush is not visible. How embarrassing to fall again for his wax poetic right away...

Trying to hide how flustered his words have made you, you force out a chuckle. "Gojo Satoru, always the sweet-talker, eh?"

Despite your best attempt at dismissing the entire situation, the man in front of you seems to have caught on to your bashfulness. After all those years, has he been craving to see you blushing and giggling again?

"If you keep saying my name like that, I might fall in love with you," he warns you half-heartedly.

The realization hits you at one moment. Something you've been suspecting, maybe hoping for even, has been proven right between his smooth talking and shaky breaths. Now that you think about it, it's all painfully obvious: how excited he seems to see you again, the immediate rush to dish out compliments and the rather poor attempt at appearing all suave and laid-back.

"You never fell out," you declare with undeniable certainty in your voice. "Did you?"

Something about the air changes instantly. The sparks of a maybe-rekindled romance have gone out, leaving both of you cold and distant towards each other.

Those few seconds of silence feel almost like hours. The quietness is ringing in your ears, pushing at your thoughts to say something. Anything! Just stop this suffocating unease from eating you alive.

This time, it's Gojo who breaks the silence first. "I stand by what I said back then: you're the one for me. It's either you or no one."

Fortunately, unforeseen aid comes almost immediately - before the tension between the two of you could choke you, a cacophony of teen voices, seemingly engaged in a loud feud, echoes throughout the building.

[itsonlydana]

Sailing Under the Sun | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

You're in the middle of the ocean when the wind dies down and leaves you stranded on Bard's sailboat. Thranduil's mood sinks but surely, though, there's a way to lift his spirits.

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️| [modern!AU], rich!Barduil, oral (m receiving), hand jobs, (guided) masturbation (f), dirty talk, i guess public-sex bc they're on the ocean? [reader is described with hair & wearing a bikini, no use of y/n]

word count: 4k

an: just a short little something, a treat for Thranduil as well as for you.. also.. Luke on that boat? Mhm-mhm yes yes. Best enjoyed listening to lana's 'born to die' because that's what i did xx // divider by @drinkthesky

+ masterlist + rules +🌿 reposts and comments are much appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

“I’m just saying,” Thranduil slides his gigantic pair of dark Prada sunglasses up his nose after one annoyed look at Bard, “if we’d taken my boat, there wouldn’t be this issue.”

You can’t stop the snort you let out at Thranduil’s less passive, more aggressive jab and since your face is pressed into the curve of your elbow, the sound is much louder than anticipated. 

“Thranduil, that yacht of yours burns through hundreds of liters of fuel. You can’t expect me to drop this baby –” The sound of Bard’s hand patting the wooden rail of his boat underlines the defensive bite in his answer, “so that you can destroy the ocean some more!”

“Have you not literally bought a new car last month?”

“It’s electric!”

“You had it flown in!”

“Boys!” You lift your head to stare at the two men – children, by the sound of their argument over boats like it was a cock measuring tool – and purse your lips, “Can’t a woman just nap on a boat, no matter what boat, and enjoy the sun a bit?” 

Thranduil opens his mouth to answer but you see that twitch in his eyebrows, the tell-tale sign that nothing good will come out so you cut him off before by shaking your head. “No, Thran. I really don’t care what or whose boat. All I want is for some relaxation. Maybe a drink.” You think back to the bottles of red wine cooling down in the cabin and sigh, “Or two.”

“You could’ve had one now,” Thranduil says and adds in a faux-whisper directed at none but heard by all: “Could’ve had a whole bar of drinks if we’d taken the Ferretti.”

Immediately, the groans of Bard and your inhale shut him up and Thranduil flips his hair back. “What? What?” his eyes fix you over the sunglasses and there’s a sharp edge to his low voice, a threatening edge of true annoyance. “Darling, you can’t tell me you’re happy that we’re stranded here.”

Stranded, because Bard’s prediction of a smooth sail went overboard as soon as the wind died down and he realized you’re mostly out of fuel.

Here, as in the middle of the ocean, surrounded by endless hues of blue. The glittering pacific blue ocean goes over into a cloudless light sky. No other boats, except yours, a peaceful human-less quiet that’s only interrupted by the gentle lapping of white foam-topped waves breaking against Bard’s sailboat and the breeze that makes the hot rays of the sun bearable if not enjoyable. 

And Bard’s been working on the sails wearing nothing but his swimming shorts so whenever you decide to look up from the towel you spread on the deck to sunbathe, you see his tanned muscles flexing in his back or his broad shoulders, and more than often he pulls on something or squats down which gives you a view even better than the ocean. The playful wind ruffles his hair now and then, dishevelling the locks of dark brown, salt and pepper and he looks – just right; balancing on the railing, his cinnamon-tanned chest splattered with freckles all up to his cheeks and a carefree easiness on his face. That’s the appearance of someone glad to be out on the water.

“Thranduil,” you pronounce the name like he’s a six-year-old who refuses to wear sunscreen, “I had the time of my life until you two whipped out your dicks.” 

And that’s the complete and honest truth. You have no need to suck up to Bard because Thranduil’s spoiled and rather spends the time on water acting like he’s not actually on water and sitting in the pool on his yacht, and you really like Bard’s sailboat. There’s a small bar downstairs, a hammock strung between the two masts, and plenty of room to lie down and do nothing. That’s all you need; he provides that and adds the naked-chest-view.

What are you going to do? Complain?!

“Yes, but imagine –” Thranduil stands up from his towel and saunters to you like a cat on a mission. The baby-blue linen shirt blows open in the sea breeze and shows the blush of pink that the sun has kissed onto his chest and the soft, slightly curled platinum strands of long hair brush your naked arms as he sits back down on the edge of your towel to lean down, his lips passing your temple to mumble hid deep vibrating voice into your ear, “The things we could do, the places we could play. The pool, the beds, the jacuzzi. I could tell the staff to leave the bar so I could taste my favorite drink –” his hands slide up your sunscreen sticky legs, rubbing the flesh of your thighs and part them slightly to play with the string of your bikini bottoms, “and that isolation means you, Darling, honey, can decide however – I – should – fuck – you.” 

A word, a kiss, a finger darting over the black bikini but never dipping in.

“Mhm,” your throaty hum is partly faulted to his hands caressing the warm skin of your inner thighs though his voice does a fantastic job of planting the seeds of imagination into your mind.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Bard calls and points his finger at Thranduil, “You’re playing unfair! Our girl has a right to her own opinion and doesn’t need your devilish tongue.”

The smirk is on Thranduil’s face before Bard realizes the double meaning of what he said and while he groans, Thranduil licks over his lips. “She could have it, though.” 

Bard jumps down from the railing, throwing a rope to the wooden floor. “You need a spanking,” he says, which not only leads to another smirk but to a low: “Yes, please, Sir.” 

Your bikini straps dig into your shoulders as you support yourself on your elbows, giving both men a view of your breasts pushed together in that black top they bought last month on the Monacco Trip. You catch Bard’s eyes, exchanging a shrug and tilt of the head, an unspoken discussion on how to deal with Thranduil’s behavior which, if unhandled, will only get worse the longer you sit around and try to ignore the crease between his eyebrows. 

The last time Thranduil had been forced to a dinner he had zero interest in being at, he made off-handed comments about everyone like he was absolutely counting on getting thrown out and when that didn’t happen he faked multiple phone calls (Bard and you ignored him the entire time, chatting to investors and walking arm in arm through the private gallery) before he stood up and left. Right before dessert was served. Like a cunt – There had been strawberry shortcakes and layered tiramisu, the perfect cream-to-berry ratio on the afternoon sweet clock. Bard had his chocolate eyes on the tiny glasses the entire time you were circling the room but none of them made it into your hands there.

You stole two in your tiny handbag, had sacrificed a lip balm and condoms to make room for the glasses to sneak them back to your hotel where you and Bard had watched a movie and pretended Thranduil didn’t sit next to you looking thoroughly pleased that he was finally back in his silk pajamas and freshly pampered.

“Soo,” Bard starts slowly, dragging out the ‘o’ that sounds more like a low throaty hum in the end. His hands wander up Thranduil’s shoulders to massage the twirly thin hair on his nape, “how can we make this day more enjoyable to you, Your Majesty?” 

“I could blow some winds into the sail to bring you back into port,” you suggest light-heartedly. 

Thranduil lifts one hand and nudges the glasses up into his hair. A few strands escape, falling down the side of his temples and fluttering in the breeze. While Bard has this look that places him on a sailboat, hands dirty and tanned like he spends his life up in the masts and ropes, Thranduil belongs on the yacht. Dirty-Shirleys, loosely buttoned shirts in white and blue, discussing galleys and standing on a glass floor to safely look down on the cerulean water underneath without ever getting even a bit of wave spraying up to the expensive clothes. 

You dabble in both these lifestyles. There are days when you love to sit around in tight dresses and hang around Thranduil’s arm, watching him gamble or play pool, whispering dirty thoughts like secret tactics into his ear but you would never say no to a day like this one. Lounging in your bikini, listening to the waves, and flying whenever the winds bless you. 

 “Or you could blow me.”

Thranduil doesn’t blink or twitch a muscle while you cough the devil out of you. Unfortunately, his proposition came when you reached for your bottle of water for a refreshment. The cooling drops roll down the curve of your breast and sink into the bikini and towel, leaving behind nothing but a darkened spot instead of the reanimating of your dried-out mouth and you’re spraying the water in more directions than Thranduil's yacht, barreling through the ocean at 40 knots.

At your sputtering, Bard pats your back compassionately. “There, there,” he chuckles and reaches down to wipe some of the water away, his fingers innocently brushing past the seamline at your breasts. The skin is warm, calloused, rough, and yet lovingly; he’s the summer cocktail that leaves you wanting more after one sip.  “He got you this wet already?”

“Bet that little number is drenched as well,” Thranduil adds mockingly and to prove him wrong, you raise your ass up.

“Check your facts,” you grin and slightly wiggle your butt, knowing full well that one more comment from either of them or one more touch would disintegrate the composure brought on by the sun and relaxation to leave another sea in the black bottoms. That thought brings more laughter, one that dusts your cheeks pinker than Thranduil’s chest. “Sea for yourself, huh?” 

Even Thranduil laughs at that, the first real smile that isn’t conceited or shameless flirting like the one he gave you as you showed off your bikini; this one’s deep from his soul and you’re proud that it’s one thoroughly bad dad-pun that cracks the shell of his mood.

“Well, Captain,” you blink up to Bard, “does the boat need you or can your loyal crew borrow some of that time?”

Sitting on one knee, Bard scratches the scruff of his beard, drawing his chin between two fingers. “No,” he says after a moment of thought and turns to Thranduil, “I’ve got time to help our Majesty out. One might say I’m quite handy at raising the mast. What? Oh, don’t look at me like that,” – that, being an eye roll and a huff – “so when she–” he nods his chin at you, “says it it’s fine but me? I’m getting castrated by the looks of ya!” 

“Tze, I don’t need your help masting me up. I’ve been lounging around blue-balling ever since our Darling girl showed that ass of her in that skimpy string bikini.” Thranduil makes himself more comfortable, sitting back on the small bench and leaning against one of the cabin windows so that you’re directly situated in front of him. As soon as you scoot closer on your knees, he opens his thighs and pets them. “C’mon, honey. Show me what that mouth of you can do.”

Bard, following his own, mischievous agenda, moves as well to sit next to Thranduil on the bench, one foot stemming up behind Thranduil to pull him into his opened legs. Their mouths crash together in a kiss that starts up fast, a colliding of teeth like a continuation of their earlier discussion that neither one is willing to lose. One of Bard’s hands finds its way into Thranduil’s neck, the other one moves to one of his perked-up nipples and playfully flicks it. 

You shuffle closer and undo the string that holds up Thranduil’s cream linen pants with fast nimble fingers – pulling on one end and watching, your cheek resting against one thigh, as the bow falls apart just like you plan on unraveling Thranduil. 

Without breaking away from Bard’s opened and moaning lips, Thranduil lifts his hips, aiding you as you pull the fabric over his legs to find a wonderful surprise waiting for you. 

“Seems like you weren’t lying,” you hum. There’s certainly one part of Thranduil that enjoys the view; ocean be dammed if you can have a good pair of tits in front of you, right? Thranduil’s cock stands proudly against his stomach, the tip red and weeping. You kitten-lick up the side, alternating to a soft kiss when you reach the head. “How did I not notice this?” you ask and lick up a bit of precum. 

The taste spreads salty on your tongue yet sweeter than seawater. 

That does bring Thranduil to break away from Bard and his gray eyes find yours, his pupils dilated by the lust taking over. “I guess it's because you didn't spare a glance at me during the whole journey. You were too busy drooling over Bard's a – ahh– ss.” 

“Is that so?” Bard asks cheekily, pausing his administration of marking up the junction Thranduil’s neck with his teeth, bruises that’ll remind Thranduil for a long time how, in the end, he enjoyed himself on Bard’s boat.

“No?” you lie. You did, but who wouldn’t stare if presented with such a good arse and muscles? Anyway, he’s your boyfriend and spent the morning between your legs so that must cancel each other out, right?

“Mhm, she did.” Thranduil grabs for Bard and pulls him into another kiss.

You spit in your hand, knowing full well by now a dip into your bottoms would be enough but the flutter of Thranduil’s lashes at the sound and what comes next is a high reward, and give his cock one testing stroke. 

“I don’t think you’re in the place to tease,” You use your thumb to smear his precome that dribbles out of his slit over the head and down, mixing it with your spit to wetten his cock further. A helping hand comes from Bard and he gatherers your hair. With nothing in your way, you lean forward and swallow Thranduil’s cock right to the base, licking up the veins.

Thranduil groans and his head slumps into the crook of Bard’s neck. He’s already too gone to answer in typical Thranduil-fashion – which is a snarky comeback –, a few licks and the slight pressure from your tongue against his balls is all it takes.

Swirling your tongue around the base, you sigh heavily, breathing in and taking him a bit deeper into your throat in the delight of finally having his weight in your mouth again. Thranduil’s hand flies to your head when you start bobbing, going down further and further every time, and his fingers wrap themselves around some strands, nails digging into your skin. 

“Fuck, that’s right,” Bard groans. You look up and see that Thranduil has his other hand around his cock, though he went right into a steady pace. Through lowered lashes, Bard nods at you. “C’mon baby, I know you’re drenched as well,” his hips lift, following Thranduil’s tug on his cock, “Just – fuck, just listen to me and I can take care of you, alrigh’?”

You nod around Thranduil’s cock, the tip now bullying the end of your throat in a way that nearly constricts your breathing but pleasurably lets just the tiniest bit of air through so you’re not yet lightheaded. Unconsciously you rub your thighs together, searching for some friction with one of your heels digging into your cunt. 

“That’s good, baby, but y’know what’s going to feel real good? Give Thranduil those fingers.”

While you continue to hold Thranduil’s cock down, nose pushed against the waxed skin, you let the blonde swirl his tongue around two of your fingers and watch as he coats your middle and pointer in enough spit that it drips when you pull them back with a ‘pop’.

Bard groans in approval. “That’s right, good job. Now go ‘head and slide them into your bikini. Leave it on, ‘s not like there’s much to pull off anyway.”

Thranduil laughs and moans at the same time, nearly choking you on his cock at the sudden movement and you quickly lift your head. A mix of your spit and his precum drip down your throat and onto your breasts. 

“Can you fuck my throat?” Your question sounds sweet but it’s Thranduil’s turn to choke on his laughter. The hand in your hair tightens.

“Fuck, of course, Darling,” Thranduil wastes no second and pushes you back on his cock immediately, giving you barely any time to inhale enough air before he’s lodged in your throat again. Without further ado, he starts thrusting up, first slow as he’s figuring out how he would like it today, then faster.

Gagging and shifting for a better stance, knees spread apart, your wet fingers slide past the tight stretch of your bikini, finding it practically glued to your cunt. There’s not one single cell in your body that isn’t strung to vibrate in lust and desire, all that goes through your flesh and mind is the siren song of pleasure, luring you closer into her trap but is it truly a trap when you surrender all you are willingly? You don’t think so and sink your middle finger into yourself, finding that there’s little resistance yet plenty of slickness that makes it easy for you to rub the pads of your fingers over your throbbing clit.

The squelch is loud and evokes groans from all three of you, only yours is stifled by Thranduil’s cock spearing through your mouth. 

“Oh, you’re such a good girl,” Bard smirks down at you, taking in the tears that gather in your eyes and the spit drooling out of your mouth, dripping uncontrollably and smearing over the hand you’ve been using to fondle Thranduil’s balls. “What a sight, you messy messy girl. Look how you’re pleasing Thran – shit,” he breaks into a moan as Thranduil twists his hand.

Blinking away some of the tears and rubbing your clit harder, it’s an effort to focus your twisted view to look up at Thranduil but when your eyes focus, he’s glorious. Both hands occupied, one holding you down and the other fucking Bard’s leaking cock, knuckles glistening with precome. He’s leaning to the side, moaning open-mouthed against Bard’s throat that bobs at each sound, the blush on his cheeks dark and a beautiful contrast to his light yet disheveled hair. No painter could capture that wanton pull of his face, the color of his lips, and the fan of his lashes.

“I – Love, Bard, I don’t think – ah fuck yesyesyessogood – I’m not gonna last long,” Thranduil manages to say, his hips speeding up in that blind chase after pleasure, grinding his cock into the back of your throat.

The lightheadedness kicks in with the rush of adrenalin and you hum, sending the vibrations along Thranduil’s cock. He can’t hold himself back longer, there’s no reason or thought behind his actions as he hammers his cock into you, using your mouth as a wet sleeve just like you had wanted him to and his size and width will probably bruise you enough that speaking will be something to avoid but there’s no reason for your voice if your body sings that beautifully like it does now.

Your hips move against your own hand, rutting into the fingers rubbing your clit furiously, the heat in your stomach tight.

“Fuck if you could only see yourselves,” Bard grunts, twitching in Thranduil’s firm grip one last time before he shoots his load all over his heaving chest. Breathlessly, he sinks down, falling to his knees and you don’t even notice how close he is until rough fingers shove yours aside. 

For a second you whine, a useless sound blocked by Thranduil’s heavy cock, but Bard shushes you. His frame blocks the sun that beats down on your back and he curls around you. “Let me, love,” he murmurs. There’s another burning light, stronger and hotter than the sun. His fingers find your clit with a knowing ease and you go tense up completely, thighs shaking to hold yourself up somehow. 

The gentle bob of the boat does nothing but heighten the sensations, the exposure to everyone who might pass or get close a knowledge that sits in the back of your neck and rolls down your spine hot like molten silver.

A narrow breath trips out of Thranduil’s lips, a pretty little sound that leaves you dripping all over Bard, who shoves two fingers of one hand inside you and rubs your clit with two of the other. A string of moans follow and then, shooting directly down your throat, Thranduil comes with one last raise of his hips, his hand stilling in your hair and his cum bittersweet. 

“Good fucking girl,” Bard praises, his fingers sending you into oblivion straight after you finish swallowing and choking on Thranduil, one ‘come-hither’ motion that lights up your body like fireworks on the fourth of July though instead of rocketing up into the sky, you clam down on Bard’s fingers and let the flaming orgasm whip you into another sphere. 

Your sight clears and both men are there, rubbing your back and gently rolling you through the shaking aftershocks that leave you to fall trembling into Bard. He catches you, hands sticky with your combined arousal holding you up. Thranduil reaches for your forgotten water bottle, tipping it to your mouth and you greedily flush down the remaining taste of his cum.

An orgasmic bliss clings to the edge of your being and you’re more than satisfied. 

Since you don’t seem like taking control over your body, Bard man-handles you to lay down on another towel, one that’s free from cum. Thranduil stands, if not sways, and pulls on the open sail to bathe you in a cooling shadow.

“There,” Thranduil pulls off his shirt, the baby-blue darkened by his sweat and carelessly throws it into the cabin, “I could go for a swim now. All that blowing and there’s still no wind.”

And with that he swings himself over the metal railing, hair flying through the air and the water spraying up as he dives down.

You mumble a question and – yes, speaking will definitely be limited to the bare minimum and only if truly necessary.

Bard understands you nevertheless and slips behind you again, pulling your tired body against his – cleaned – chest. “Let’s join him in a bit,” he mumbles between the rain of soft kisses into your neck, his nose nudging your skin gently, “and then I’ll them him I’ve got a full enough tank to sail us to every port he wants to.”

You snort, rolling your head back to give his wandering lips more access to your sun-kissed warm skin. Spots dance in front of your closed eyes and seagulls screech in the distance. The water sounds inviting and you can’t wait to dive into the cooling wet, joining Thranduil. You’ll climb on his back, letting him drift around with your arms around his neck holding on, the water lapping over you and Bard tugging on your feet, tickling you until you swallow water from laughing so much.

But now, his breathing is as constant as Thranduil’s low hum next to the boat, and his arm’s heavy around your stomach and you promise yourself you’ll just close your eyes for a little bit.

taglist: @crouchingapple (if you want to be added: just inform me via the inbox or under my posts)

[ninikrumbs]

Close to you

Gojo Satoru x reader

Summary : Coming home to the warm embrace of the people closest you heart. Wanting nothing more that to pull them closer to you.

Tags: Fluff, idiots inlove, implied co parenting/guardians 4 kids, Suguru didnt deflect, post high school grad, mutual pining. ft. Megumi and Tsumiki

You gently shut the door to the entrance of your shared home, hoping you don't wake up its sleeping residents at midnight. Your soft footsteps still made the wooden floorboards creak; moonlight glowing through the window, the peaceful quiet welcoming you home.

Your eyes catch the few toys scattered around the coffee table, books on the kitchen island, and the faint smell of curry still lingered in the air, making you smile. Undeniable proof of the life being lived within these walls.

Slowly, you made your way up the stairs, stretching your aching body from a mission that took more time than anticipated.

A yawn escapes your mouth as you peek in mimiko and hanakos room, silently chuckling at the way the two sisters huddled together under the covers with their favorite plushie in the middle. It was only their favorite because Suguru bought it. They obviously had a favorite guardian.

Your next stop was Megumi and Tsumiki's room. Gently opening the door, you were surprised to see the scene in front of you. The two kids were sleeping soundly in their seperated beds except Megumi had an interloper. A slender body was curled next to the boy, a long arm was over his chubby middle, the covers barely covering half of his frame. Familiar tinted sunglasses were on his night stand and the interlopers snow white hair almost glowed in the moonlight shining from the window.

You quickly take pictures on your phone, snickering slightly, wanting to capture this moment forever and of course to tease them both tomorrow. Megumi could act indifferent to Gojo all he wants, you know he secretly admires him despite the short time being together.

Amusement and fondess graces your features. Gojo didn't even change out of his uniform which irked you a bit, but his sleeping face made up for it. You barely see him so relaxed- yes he was an overenergetic and overconfident idiot who makes it seem like everything is just rainbows and butterflies in this world, but you knew better- the things he hides behind those sunglasses, the pressure to be greater, to be stronger, to protect everyone.

He had the entire world on his shoulders. You can't even begin to imagine what it was like being the Gojo Satoru so sue you if didn't want to wake him up despite him sleeping in a cramped bed. He deserved to escape his responsibilities and pressure he puts on himself even for a little while.

A soft small voice laced with sleep pulled you out of your thoughts. You turn and see Tsuimiki sitting up,

"They fell asleep arguing with each other." She says, sleepily rubbing her eyes.

"Of course they did." You shake you head.

You sat at the edge of Tsumikis bed, voice quiet, "Sorry, did I wake you?"

She shakes her head in response, "No, I sometimes get up to pee at this hour."

You visibly relax, then another thought popped into your head, "What were they arguing about?"

She grinned teasingly, "About which boy in the house you liked best."

You stifle a laugh, covering your mouth. "Well jokes on them because I like Suguru best."

That was a lie, you know who your favorite was and it wasn't Suguru, but he was a close second.

"I tried telling them that too, but they just looked at me like it was the most disgusting thing they've ever heard."

You couldn't stop the giggle that escapes you, which made you quicklycheck if they were still asleep. You gaze back at Tsumiki after seeing that they were still snoring their heads off.

"I should probably go to sleep aswell, Tsumi-chan." You realize as you patted her head affectionately.

A small hand held on to the end of your uniform sleeve as you stood up. "Tsumiki?"

Her cute face turned red from embarrassment as she look at you shyly, "...Y/N, can you also sleep next to me?"

You internally coo. you could just die from the cuteness, you wanted to pinch her cheeks but you're sure that would just embarrass her further. She was like a little sister you always wanted to have.

"Of course, Ill just go take a quick shower and change."

She beams at your response and nods happily. She was so mature for her age, having to take care of Megumi that you sometimes forget that she's also still just a kid who also wants love and attention.

After a quick shower and a new set of comfy pajamas, you dragged your tired self back to Megumi and Tsumikis room only to find Tsumiki already sleeping. You smile fondly at the three people that took up so much space in your heart.

You pull the covers over Megumi and Satoru, tucking them both in before quietly sliding in next to Tsumiki, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. The little girl small from curls into you. Your tired body and the late hour made sleep find you the moment your head met the pillow.

-----

The early morning light hit your eyes, making you groan. You wanted to pull the covers over your eyes, but your movement was cut short when you notice warm air tickling down your neck, along with strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist, your back flushed against a sturdy chest, legs tangled on top of yours.

Unless Tsumiki turned into a big buff man overnight , this had to be..

"Satoru?"

Nothing. You crane your head to face him, unable to move anything else. There was no mistaking those long white eyelashes and smooth snow white hair, sunlight making him look like he had a halo. His pink and strangely always glossy lips curled into a small content smile. He looked so peaceful, it was almost a shame to wake him.

But honestly, when did he take Tsumiki's place beside you?

Speaking of, you glance to Megumi's bed and sure enough the two siblings are now sleeping there together. You let out an exasperated breath. The kids are gonna have a fit when they wake up. Yet you can't help but cover Gojo's hands with yours; wrapped tightly around your waist, squeezing them gently.

You did your best to maneuver your body so that you were facing him, eventually succeding. You noticed that he changed into a loose shirt and sweats. his natural scent made you tuck your face into his neck. Suddenly, he pulls you impossibly closer against him, making you giggle, Its like he was trying to hold you hostage.

"You awake, sweets?" His morning voice huskier than usual, making your stomach tingle.

"Hmm," You hum, curling into him more. He was so warm and solid, and as someone who gets cold so easily he has never missed any opportunity to pull you into him, using any excuse to have you close. (and of course he didn't want you to freeze.)

He mumbles a sleepy good morning along with a soft kiss on the top of your head which made your face warm, like it always does.

It was moments like these where you and Satoru tip toed around the boundaries of your friendship. And these days that thin line was turning non existent especially when things like this happen. It didn't matter to you though, you could get hurt later, regret it later, or things can go amazingly right later, but right now you wanted him close.

This wasn't news to you. From the moment you met him during that smoky bonfire two years ago, he had you overnight. Cerulaen blue eyes that reflected galaxies and sunrises over the burning fire, how could you resist? Ever since then you wanted him close and to your surprise he has always pulled you even closer.

"When did you take Tsumiki's place?" You mumble into his neck.

You feel him yawn before answering, "Around 3am.. I saw you next to her and I couldn't help it."

"Help what?"

"..You had your arms around her and stuff."

You pull back a little to look at his pouty face, sky blue eyes in slits. "You can't seriously be jealous of a child."

"Who says?"

"She's a child and a girl?"

"So?"

"You're impossible." You groan.

"You love me though." He whispers against your ear, making you jump in his hold.

You glare at him and push him as far as he'd allow which was barely an inch, "Stop teasing me."

He lets out a laugh, "Sorry, princess. Its just so fun to tease you."

Seeing your annoyed face, he pulled you back into him, tucking a strand of your surely messy hair behind you ear. "I wasn't joking about being jealous though. I wanted to be the one next to you."

Sky blue eyes gaze into your surpised ones, his so full of adoration and sincerity. Yes, his beauty always blows you away, but it was his honesty that overwhelmed you.

The intensity of his stare makes you hide into his chest. "Seriously, Toru.. We need to talk about this." You grumble, face warmer than ever.

He chuckles at your shyness, finding it so endearing. His arms tightened around you, pulling you flushed against his broad chest. "I know and we will. But for now, let me hold you close a little longer."

----

Meanwhile Megumi and Tsumiki under the covers.

"They're idiots." Megumi says dryly.

Tsumiki quickly shushes her little brother as she strains her ear to listen more, a huge grin on her face.

She couldn't wait to tell Shoko and Suguru about this.

AN : Finally got this out of my head 😭

[msafterhours]

Drive

Male Reader x Hwang Yeji

~3.1k words

This should be one of the best ways to spend an evening.  Winding through the curves of a familiar mountain road with the top down, sunglasses on as the sun slowly descends below the skyline.  The music's blasting louder than it probably should be, but you're unwilling to add anything to your currently empty list of concerns.

No, in this moment, as the summer breeze flows through your hair, you feel weightless.  It's honestly hard to believe how many things are going right in this singular moment of time.

Now if only the passenger seat wasn't empty.

You’ll always remember the first day you met Yeji.  She found you leaning against the wooden railing of the pier, staring out at the shimmering reflection of the moon across the ocean���s turbulent waves as you desperately wished for answers to questions you didn’t know how to ask.  So, when the frigid winds picked up her words and carried her question over to your ears, of course you didn’t know how to respond.

"Didn’t you hear me?  I asked, what're you doing out here?  It's nearly midnight!"

Honestly, she could have asked your name and you would have drawn a blank.

It would quickly become a running theme, how much better Yeji was with words than you.  But in this initial moment, the start of something truly special, someone somewhere must have been looking out for you, handing you a response like a cue card.

"You know, I've been asking myself the same question for a while now.  Wanna help me figure it out?"

And when you read the sparkle in Yeji’s eyes as an invitation and offer your own by waving her over, you thank the stars above that she accepts.  And in the hours to come, as you huddle close, sharing stories and learning about each other, you thank them once again that she ends up staying long enough to watch the sunrise.

But you can’t help but wish for just the slightest bit more.  You can’t help but wish that she’ll stay forever.

…

Even with a gun to your head, you wouldn’t be able to tell anyone much about your first date two weeks later.  The only thing you’d be able to tell them about was the kiss.  Because while the rest of the night mattered, nothing but the kiss mattered.

Why would you focus on the color of her dress when all you could remember seeing is the fireworks show playing against the inside of your eyelids?  Why would you remember if your order was a good choice when the faint taste of strawberry was busy sending your mind into a tailspin?  Why would you care about literally anything else at all when the sensation of Yeji’s lips against yours felt like home?

The only other detail that stuck out was the sensation you felt after, when you arrived at your place and realized that you had no recollection of the drive home; when you realized that for the first time, your brain hadn’t treated the opportunity to drive as a priority.

Yet despite the novel sensation, you felt anything but surprised.  Because from the very first moment Hwang Yeji stood by your side, you knew that you had discovered a higher priority.  The highest priority.

…

One of the few things you two never could agree on was who said "I love you" first.  It’s admittedly hard to tell since you both said it simultaneously after an extended period of staring into each other's eyes, but as much as both of you were willing to compromise on most things, here, stubbornness reigned supreme.

Yeji tended to argue that she definitely said it first as she always had a quicker wit and was far more likely to have the first word (or three).  Your counter was always that you kept things simple, so there were fewer distractions between you and what you wanted to say.

It was, admittedly, the weaker argument.  Yet you stood firm all the same.

These conversations often tended to go around in circles, with each of your points being put forth, listened to, then promptly ignored.  And while neither of you were able to declare yourself the winner of these “battles”, you both left them feeling victorious.

Because the conversation always ended in the same place.  Where it always did.  Where it always would.  With those same three words.

…

In retrospect, it’s a testament to whatever meager bits of self-control remained within that you kept your hands off Yeji for so long.  However, a rainy night that left you both racing towards your apartment changed everything.

The door slammed behind her.  You felt that control begin to falter.  The rain traveled down her skin agonizingly slowly before falling to the floor below.  You loosened your grip even further.  She pushed you against the wall and crashed her lips against yours.  You conceded to her entirely.

For you both, it was a boiling point, a release of tension, an evolution in your relationship, a miracle, a feeling so fucking amazing that you both forgot how to breathe—

And as your survival instincts forced you both to break away from the kiss and finally satiate your need for oxygen, it wasn’t the scent of Yeji’s rose shampoo that made your heart find a way to shift into seventh gear.  No, it was the metallic taste seeping out of your lower lip.

It was the way she hungrily ran her tongue over those fangs that had marked you.

It was the predatory smile she gave as you audibly gulped.

It was the way she grabbed, spun, and pushed you back until you stumbled over the arm of the couch.

It was how she pounced on you, her prey.

And for the rest of the night, even hours later when your soaked clothes were long forgotten and your only defense against the raging storm was the heat emanating off of each other’s bodies, the cold was the least of your concerns.

Because you were together.

Finally.

…

It was early in your relationship when you drove her to the jewelry store.  Early enough to not arouse suspicions.

For once, you played your part well, eloquently telling Yeji that you simply wanted to get her something special.  Something that would make her think of you.  And you told her no lies.

Thus, she was willing to oblige when you asked her to try on a multitude of options and simply enjoy herself.  And you truly did enjoy yourself, happily buying her the necklace Yeji chose as her favorite.  You just made sure to secure one other thing.  Her ring size.

Because you already knew.

…

Yeji didn’t have to use her words to tell you something was wrong.  You needed only look into her eyes to see the predatory edge gone, replaced by a lethargic malaise.  So you showed her your love in the best way you knew how.  Through action.

A quick call to her colleague secured the weekend off of work.  A second call got her friend to pack a bag of her things.  A third got you the weekend off as well, with the concession of promising to handle the upcoming project from hell you’d been avoiding for months.  And a final call secured you your venue of choice, with blessings from the owner.

Thus, with everything in place, you were ready to pick her up when she ended her day.  And despite your vague answers as to where you were taking her, she was more than ready to go along with you.

And so, you began to drive.

…

You took the turns slowly, methodically.  Anything to keep the ride as smooth as possible.  Anything to keep Yeji as comfortable as possible.  Anything to keep from ruining the perfection of this moment.  And though you did your best to keep your eyes on the road, you couldn’t help yourself from stealing glances at her every once in a while.  And as always, her eyes were a masterpiece worth a million words.

You saw the slightest bit of trepidation.  You saw a sense of excitement.  You saw relief.  Contentment.  Wonder.   Joy.  And when Yeji looked up at the rearview mirror and met your eyes, you saw a reflection of your own heart.  You saw love.

And you could only hope that your entire heart would be enough to repay it in kind.

…

The cabin made its presence known immediately upon entering your view.  It was tall, with the high ceilings and slanted roof making it look even larger than the floor plan would suggest.  With two floors, a deck, a path to the lake, and a multitude of unexplored rooms, it would likely have been more than enough for just about any couple staying there alone.  However, if Yeji’s uncharacteristically rigid movements were any indication, it still might lack enough usable surfaces to work out her tension.

But that was a problem for the rest of the weekend.  The immediate priority was the present, so you grabbed your things and the groceries waiting on the front porch, then went inside and began preparing dinner.  And while the dinner and coinciding conversation were nothing short of delightful, it was a moment during the preparation that you knew would remain imprinted in your mind forever.

Yeji insisted that you both wear aprons during the preparations.  A seemingly silly request, and one that you likely would have brushed off if asked by anyone else.  But when Yeji wrapped her arms around your waist to tie the knot, you were suddenly very glad to have acquiesced.

Because somehow, some way, it felt more comfortable than anything you had ever experienced.  It was more familiar than this cabin that you had first visited as a child.  And as you wrapped your arms around her and she melted into your embrace, you knew tying the silly apron was far from the priority.

So, you held her, far longer than you’d need to tie her apron.  You stood there, arms wrapped around each other, long enough for the silence to convey everything that you wanted to tell her but couldn’t find the words for.  And a while later, when you detached from one another and looked at Yeji through misty eyes, you prayed that the sparkle in her own was there to stay.

…

Yeji didn’t respond verbally when you asked her to close her eyes and follow your lead.  She simply slipped her hand into yours and allowed her world to go dark.  Thus, despite being able to traverse this route with your eyes closed, you methodically led her out of the dining room, through the living room, out onto the deck, down the path, and onto the dock that served as your destination.

And when she opened her eyes and saw the lake that defined your childhood, she found herself stunned, truly at a loss for words.  And it turned out that those couple seconds were all you needed to render her speechless once again, as you dived into the lake, fully clothed.

When you resurfaced, the first thing you noticed was the sound of Yeji’s laughter dancing across the glassy waters that you had just shattered.  The second thing was her gleaming smile that shined brighter than the full moon overhead.  The third was the uncertainty rooting her to the wooden planks of the dock.

But when you invited her to join you, she dove into the lake without the slightest bit of hesitation.  Because Hwang Yeji knew you’d be there to catch her.  And when she kissed you, it wasn’t a question.  Nor an answer.  It was a promise.

One you were more than happy to return in kind.

…

Less than an hour later, after the initial rush of adrenaline had worn off and the cold had begun to permeate through your bones, you carried Yeji back to the house and commenced your favorite way of staying warm.

But this time felt different.

Because when she looked up at you, staring directly into your eyes as she took you into her mouth, you found no traces of her regular ferocity.  You still saw desire, but you also found insecurity.  You found gratitude in her eyes.  You found fear, adoration, vulnerability.

You found her.

So, as Yeji continued sending shockwaves across your entire body, you needed no words to tell her exactly how good it felt.  Your clenching muscles and curling toes and quick inhalations said everything.

But you told her anyway.  Because you needed her to know.

And as the moon ascended to its apex before hurriedly descending back below the horizon, trying to hide from the absolute vulgarity you were committing between the sheets, you spent the rest of the night showing Yeji exactly how you feel.

…

You had always viewed alarm clocks as a cruel invention.  After all, who in their right mind would want to set a time limit on their dreams?

But when you shifted from sleep to consciousness and awoke late that morning, you found yourself merely shifting from one dream to another.  You found yourself holding Yeji in your arms, granted the perfect angle to observe her flawless visage as golden beams shone through the windows and cast a gentle light across her sleeping form.  And just as you began to doubt whether you were even awake at all, Yeji’s slow, hot breaths against the base of your neck brought you back to reality.

So, you held her, far longer than you needed to fully awaken.  You laid there, arms wrapped around Yeji, long enough for her to finish whatever dream she was experiencing.  And a while later, long after you had lost track of the time passed but well before she awoke, you realized you’d decided to stay a long, long time ago.

…

Unfortunately, you were reminded that dreams don’t last forever when your alarm clock began its cacophony that next Monday.  And even though you’d told Yeji the nature of the compromise you’d made, it didn’t make the following weeks any easier.  You had, after all, volunteered to manage this project.  And if you wanted to keep the job you had spent your entire adult life working for, you knew you couldn’t deliver anything but perfection.

So, you got to work.  And as the hours stretched on and the days began to blur together, the long days turned into long nights turned into long weeks.  And the strain on your relationship was impossible to miss.

Your sins started small, like not responding to a text until hours later or having to cancel a lunch date.  However, as the list of your transgressions grew, so too did their severity.  Yeji did her best to be supportive and might have acted as if it were okay that you didn't follow through with your daily good night calls, but the cracks in her voice allowed the truth to trickle through.

And as much as you wanted to be there to hold Yeji close and help her heal the wounds you had caused, you were terrified of the possibility of not delivering on this project.  Of losing the benefit of years of schooling and even more years of hard work.  So you soldiered on, assuring yourself that these short-term pains would be worth it in the end.  Surely a couple months were worth losing for benefits that would last years to come?

Unfortunately, your calculus broke the exact moment you snapped at her for calling you during a meeting.  And Yeji, the eloquent half of your relationship, left you in silence.

…

The first day was hell.

The second day was worse.

Each day was marked with the same routine, with you reaching out and asking for a chance to apologize and Yeji letting her silence suffocate your request.

Nothing was worth this.

But it wasn’t until a week had passed and you found yourself alone in your apartment once again that the calendar reminded you that your anniversary was in one week’s time.  And somehow, with the realization that you hadn’t even known how badly you’d fucked up, you hit a new low.

So, immediately, you broke down and sent her a flurry of messages, pleading for a chance to ask for forgiveness.  To your surprise, you received a response.  You received a location, the same restaurant where you had your first date together.  You received a reservation time and instructions to pick her up 30 minutes beforehand.  And, you received a date.  Your anniversary.

Realizing that you’d probably already said too much, you promised to be there.  And you waited.  7 days of pain.  168 hours of suffering.  10,080 minutes of torment.  604,800 seconds of agony.  But when the time came, you made damned sure you were early.

And so did Yeji.  She was there, leaning against a pillar and staring up at the sky.  Waiting for you.

But when she got in the car, Yeji refused to even look at you, not even allowing you the chance to begin your apology as she told you to drive.  So, you trusted her.  And did as she asked.

You began to drive.

…

Despite the frigid climate in the car, you couldn’t help but feel a warm relief at having this opportunity.  At having Hwang Yeji back by your side.  And though you did your absolute best to keep your eyes exclusively on the road as you deftly navigated the icy streets, you couldn’t stop your heart from stealing a few glances in the rearview mirror.  And when you saw the tiniest bits of moisture beginning to gather at the corners of those steely eyes, you couldn’t stop that same heart from manifesting the slightest bit of hope within your soul.

But until you earned the chance to apologize, you continued to drive.

...

You honestly should have seen it coming, but the anxiety threw you off your game just a little bit.  Just enough.

You honestly think you would have been alright with it all.  It wouldn't have been easy, but you could have accepted the fact that the semi truck over your right shoulder blew through the light as if it were merely a suggestion.  You could have dealt with the whiplash of the impact and the pain and the damage and the medical bills.

You could have dealt with it all.

If only the passenger seat was empty.

(My sincerest gratitude to @worldsover and @braaan for reviewing this piece, this fic wouldn’t be anywhere near where it is now without their help.  Also, much love to @okaylikesmomo, @capslocked, and @majorblinks.  I wouldn’t have finished this without your support.)

[itsnevercasual]

Look Into His Angel Eyes

pairing: harry styles x zoologist!youtuber!reader

summary: harry takes his niece to the san diego zoo, and you just so happen to take care of the animal she’s obsessed with. koalas.

warnings: zero knowledge of zoology LMAO, not edited, a few curse words

—

harry had expected a lot more fuss when he went to a very famous, very popular zoo. he expected at least someone — one person! — to notice him or recognize him.

nobody had even given him a second glass.

those kids movies were right. change your har (put on a beanie) and wear sunglasses (because even if it was a little chilly, it was bright), and you were a whole different person!

well, until gemma’s little girl, rosie, who was usually a gem and the best kid ever, started crying. over what, you may ask?

she demanded they find the koalas.

granted, she was only five, but.. he was still worried people would see him and recognize him.

when he had graciously offered to drive rosie to san diego to go to the zoo because gemma simply didn’t have the time, he forgot it was a public, normal people zoo.

so, he asked someone where the koalas were (and then four more people after that on the way there, all of which informed him that he better hurry if he wanted to catch the koala talk, which was supposedly a big hit for some reason), and made his way to the other side of the zoo.

who the hell made this place so big?

—

you’d been living in san diego for five years, since you were eighteen. you’d been working with the koalas at the san diego zoo for that same amount of time.

18 and fresh out of high school, you moved far, far away from your horrible hometown and even more horrible people, and went to san diego to both go to college for zoology and work your dream job.

well, technically, it was an internship at first, but still!

like most little girls, you were obsessed with animals. however, instead of dogs or some other basic animal (though, koalas are still pretty basic, you suppose), you were obsessed with koalas. and then, it never went away.

your mother tried anything to talk you out of it, into a safer career path, she’d say. more secure.

well, fuck secure because you were about to go talk to little kids who were just like you when you were younger and feed a baby koala.

you had also started a successful side career as a youtuber. you made regular videos like vlogs and hauls and whatnot, and also educational videos about koalas. some of your vlogs were at work, such as today.

“so.. we have jess here to record as i do a koala talk. and.. it is officially 1:30, so let’s go!” you exclaim, handing your coworker, jess, the camera.

you pushed open the door (more like gate) and walked out. there was a fairly large crowd today, including the cutest little girl with a pink dress on right in the front row.

you set the crate (don’t yell, it’s a big crate. and it’s simply to take them from their exhibit to the talk area, which is a distance of maybe 50 feet) down on the wooden table.

the talk area was pretty much their enclosure, but instead of a glass wall, it was open and the kids could see better.

you opened the crate and slowly coaxed the bears out. you’d only brought two today. mila, and her baby charlotte (you always called her charlie, though).

once they were out and climbing on the branches, you turned to the crowd.

“hi, guys! my name is y/n, and i’m basically in charge of the koalas here! who here has been to one of my talks before?”

a few hands raise.

“good! well, today, we have a new guest… who remembers what was happening with mila last talk? was anyone there?”

one little boy raised his hand.

“yes, the.. little boy in a blue shirt?”

“jackson!” he told you.

“jackson, sorry. what was going on with mila? for everyone who doesn’t know, mila is that big one right there.”

“she was— she had a baby in her tummy.”

“she did!” you respond enthusiastically. “and a few months ago.. four months ago, actually, she had her baby! who wants to meet her?”

all the little kids screamed me! me! me!

you laughed, “alright, let me grab her.”

you walked over to mila, petting her head as you slowly took charlie away.

“hey, mila.. can i take her real quick?” you ask as if she can hear you, before speaking to the crowd. “mila and i have a special bond, if you ask me. she had her baby right around the time i had mine. so we are both new mothers,” you laugh. “but, anyway! i’ve been with mila since she got here, so she really trusts me. which is why i can easily just..”

you grabbed charlie off of mila, and put her on her shoulder like you did your baby.

“so, everyone, this is charlotte, but i call her charlie! now, i have a very special job for one of you.. but i need someone who will be very careful, because charlie is still a delicate baby.. can anyone hold her for me while i feed her?”

and finally, the adorable little girl interacted. she started jumping and raised her hand.

you walked over to the fence separating you from the crowd, crouching to be eye level with her. “and who might you be?”

“rosie!” she responded. and oh, she had a baby voice and she was british.

“rosie! well, do you think you can hold her for me?”

“yes! yes, please!”

“alright, we’ll get you and dad back here—“

“ehm.. uncle..” her uncle, not father, responded in a british accent.

“oh, sorry! you and your uncle back here. and what’s your name, rosie’s uncle?”

he hesitated, before— “harry.”

your brain slowly put two and two together as you glanced at his tattoos.

harry styles.

“oh, i see,” you respond, “well, let’s get you guys back here!”

you opened the gate they were thankfully standing right in front of, and they walked into the talking area before you shut the gate.

you led rosie to the center, crouching down to her again.

“alright, we’re gonna do this in a funny way. can you stick out your arm for me?”

she did.

“i’m gonna put charlie on your arm, alright? she’s gonna wrap herself around it, and her claws might scratch you, but it’s fine, yeah?”

“yes, ma’am!”

“aw, you’re so polite. alright.. charlie incoming!”

you slowly adjusted charlie to curl around rosie’s arm.

“it tickles!” she squeals with a laugh.

“yeah?” both you and harry — harry styles — respond at the same time.

“alright, i’m gonna grab her bottle! stay here!”

you ran over to grab it, and while you were shaking it so it was ready, you felt something wrap around your leg.

“hi, mila!” you exclaim to the koala wrapped around you.

you carefully walk back over.

“i’m gonna feed her for a minute, and then i’ll let you and your uncle try, yeah?”

“okay!”

you started feeding charlie as you spoke again.

“so, the reason we feed charlie instead of having her feed from her momma, who is clinging to my leg, is because charlie was born a little early and needs a little more nutrients!”

you talked a little more about koalas and their behavior before rosie wanted to feed her. and after a few minutes of that, you glanced to harry.

“you wanna give it a go?”

“sure, why not,” he shrugs.

“charlie seems pretty cozy.. so, i’ll give you mila. she’s a little heavy, though.”

you bent over and took mila off your leg, handing her over to harry.

“hold her like a baby on your hip.. it’s kinda like a.. odd hug! a koala hug, if you will. i’ll grab her bottle.”

you ran over, and when harry began feeding her after you returned, he asked a question.

“so.. why do y’feed mila? i know charlie’s a baby and all, but..”

“that’s a very good question! so, mila is getting a little old, and she was also brought to us injured. that, paired with giving birth four months ago, we just have to give her some more electrolytes… her bottle is actually just white gatorade. we tried green, but she hates it. she’s very picky.”

“well, that’s cause y’gave her green.”

“hey! who has the degree here? yeah, shush.”

“yes, ma’am,” he laughed.

—

once the talk was over, you told rosie and harry to stay back.

you let charlie and mila climb about the branches while you spoke to them.

“i just want to make sure you both are alright with being in a video.. also, you need to wash your hands.. jess should be back with the sanitizer soon.”

“can i ask what video?”

“oh! right, sorry. i’m a youtuber, and i sometimes film my talks to publish and whatnot. i’ll blur your faces, of course. i blur everyone in the crowd’s faces for privacy reasons, but i figured you’d be.. more.. concerned about that than most.”

“you know?”

“i mean.. voice is a giveaway.. i also follow gemma’s instagram, so i recognized rosie,” you shrug. “but anyways, you’re good with the video?”

“yeah, of course.”

you then turned to rosie to answer her bajillion questions about koalas until jess came back with the hand sanitizer.

“so, just use a lot of this, and you’ll be good,” you explain, putting a few pumps into each of their hands.

once they were all clean of koala germs, you told them they were free to go.

rosie ran forward, but harry lingered.

“thank you,”

“oh, yeah. of course. i figured you wouldn’t want koala germs—“

“no, i mean thanks for giving rosie that opportunity.”

“oh! of course. i love seeing little kids who love them as much as me.”

“she’s bloody obsessed with the things.”

“mm, yeah. they’re easy to love. word of advice, don’t shoot her love for them down. it doesn’t exactly work. i mean.. look at me,” you laugh.

“i will keep that in mind,” he smilez. “what was your name again?”

“y/n.. y/n l/n.”

—

a/n: enjoy

[tinyluvs]

❥ watermelon ˚ rafe cameron

❥ summary: rafe gets home from work & just needs his girl. ❥ warnings: oral (both receiving), fingering, unprotected sex! general contents of smut! minors do not interact! ❥ authors note: i’m a slut for soft!rafe :) 3.3k ❥ pairing: soft!rafe cameron x fem!reader

the swing seat on the upstairs balcony of the cameron house sways where you sit on it, your head leaning against the rope holding it up. a slight breeze passes through your hair and you bask in it, enjoying the fresh air over your face and neck. the transition between spring and summer is a beautiful time of year in the outer banks

a bowl of watermelon balances on your thighs and you pick a piece from the bowl before looking out over the garden. you notice the flowers in full bloom and lush trees standing tall, leaves rustling gently as the breeze passes through them. the balcony also gives a gorgeous view of the water, sun reflecting off of the ripples as boats full of kids pass by in the distance.

your attention gets turned back to the garden when a car rumbles up the drive, you smile and stand from your seat, moving to lean on the balcony. the range rover comes to a stop in front of the house and your boyfriend steps out. he looks up at you with a squint, his sunglasses left behind in the car before rushing forward into the house

his footsteps draw closer as you step back into your bedroom, dress shoes dragging against wooden stairs. rafe appears around the doorframe, “hey angel,” he breathes out a sigh, something between happiness and relief, like seeing you is the best part of his day.

“hi handsome,” you reply softly, shamelessly letting your eyes rake over his appearance. his hair has grown out from the buzzcut, tousled and messy from his hand running through it. the buttons on his white button down are still neatly in place though his tie has been pulled loose underneath the collar, his sleeves are rolled and pushed up just under his elbows.

you watch as he drops his bag and phone onto the bed and then he’s stepping into your space, wrapping strong muscly arms around your waist and back, his head dropping into the crook of your neck. with him standing at a whole six feet and two inches you raise up onto your tiptoes to slide your arms around his neck, “how was work?” you hum when you feel him pressing his lips against the top of your shoulder

“same as usual,” he replies and stands up straight, looking down at you. moving your hands to cup his face you stroke your thumbs over his cheeks, his eyes flutter shut as his head grows a little heavier in your hold, “don’t wanna talk about it” he manages to mumble before you pull him in for a kiss

he kisses you three separate times, like he always does and then kisses you softly, slowly. your bottom lip slips between his and he sucks gently on it, trapping it lightly between his teeth. your hands slip down his neck, over his shoulders and then down his arms until your hands meet his at your waist, fingers tangling together almost immediately.

rafe pulls you closer, kissing you a little harder before stepping away, lifting one of your joined hands over your head. you spin under his arm with a small giggle.

“pretty girl” rafe sighs when you turn back to him, his eyes flicking up and down your body. you look down at your flowy cotton shorts and vest that ends just under your ribs before frowning up at him, “none of that”

gentle fingers smooth out the line between your brows and then his hands settle on the tops of your arms. you roll your eyes playfully at him when his eyes flick down to your chest. you rise up, pressing your lips to his again

his hands fall to your waist and you feel him smiling against your mouth, “what?” you giggle, breaking the kiss slightly. he hums but doesn’t answer, pressing his lips firmer against your own, his teeth briefly grazing over your bottom lip.

rafe bends, one of his arms tightening around your hips. he stands to his full height, picking you up swiftly, his free hand sliding around your thigh, never breaking the kiss once. your arms wrap loosely around his neck as he turns to the bed.

he holds you over the bed while he kisses you, only pulling away to drop you down onto the bed. you bounce, your back hitting the soft mattress. he stands between your legs where they dangle over the edge of the bed

“you taste like watermelon” he sighs, looking down at you. you run your tongue over your lips, nodding when you lick over sticky watermelon residue, “tastes nice”

“i’m glad,” you whisper and push yourself up onto your forearms. he loosens his tie futher before pulling it out from under the collar of his shirt. he drops it onto the floor before he leans down over you, his forearms either side of your head

rafe brushes his nose against yours, his thumbs stroking against your hairline. you bring your legs up, knees knocking his ribs, his shirt rustles slightly. he kisses you once and then places open mouthed kisses along your cheek and jaw, using his nose to push your head to the side slightly, the skin on your neck gets quickly peppered with kisses

his hair tickles your cheek and a breathy giggle escapes you, your hands tangling into his hair immediately. rafe grazes his teeth along the side your neck before sucking gently, putting a stop to your giggle as it dies in your throat, changing to a soft whine

rafe nips your neck once, pulling away slightly to see you gasp, a spot on your neck turning a pretty shade of pink. spurring him on by bucking your hips up against him, he groans and attaches his lips to your neck again, sucking deeply, causing your back to arch off of the bed. he pulls away, watching blood rise to the surface under your skin and his spit, he wipes the sheen off of it with his thumb and kisses it once before standing over you again

you pout slightly at the loss of contact, staring up at him with soft eyes. tightening your knees against his hips you pull him in, trapping him there, “i know, m’not going anywhere” he reassures with a hand on your thigh. his fingers trail up your leg and then up your sides, pushing your top up

your nipples perk up from the breeze blowing in through the open balcony doors and rafe wastes no time, swooping down to kiss over your soft tits.

your hands fly into his hair again, a soft whine flowing from your mouth when he starts to suck, pulling your nipple into his mouth, his teeth grazing your skin. his free hand moves to your other tit, squeezing and pulling gently to elicit soft pants and moans from you

rafe ruts down against you, his hips rolling, pushing his clothed cock against your pussy, your thin shorts falling to the side leaving your panties on show. “oh god” you moan when he bites down on your nipple, he smirks against your skin and swaps his assault to the other side, brushing his thumb over your spit sore nipple.

soft moans, both yours and rafe’s fill the room, his muffled by your tit in his mouth. he rolls your nipple between his teeth, slowly biting down harder, enjoying the way you whine, head tilted back and pushing into soft sheets. he hums when he removes his mouth from you, happy with the way your tits look pink and almost sore

his lips are soft, spit slicked, when he kisses you again. he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip and your mouth falls open, letting him in immediately. fumbling with the buttons on his shirt you manage to get it undone, sliding your hands up warm skin and muscle to push it off his shoulders. he hovers over you, reaching behind himself to pull his shirt off, letting it join his tie on the floor.

with a harsh roll of his hips, the zip on his trousers catches your clit through your panties, you shudder out a moan when wetness floods from your cunt, sticking fabric to your sensitive folds every time he pushes down against you

a string of spit hangs between your lips when he pulls away, both of you panting softly, lips swollen and red. “rafe,” you whine under his gaze, bumping your wet cunt against his clothed cock, “please touch me”

“i’m getting there, baby” rafe hums, his tongue licking over his bottom lip, “you’re going to be the death of me,” he groans after and you follow his gaze to the damp spot on the front of his trousers. you open your mouth to mumble an apology but you get cut off, a whine replacing your words when he presses his thumb against your clit

he stands back up, looking down at you with soft eyes and a smile. you tilt your head at him, trying not to ruin the moment by moaning, doing everything in your power not to concentrate on his knuckle pressing against your clothed hole

“pretty girl” he repeats his earlier comment, smiling wider when your cheeks heat up. your hips wriggle against your will and he breathes out a chuckle, his hands moving to the waistband of your shorts.

rafe crouches down at the end of the bed while pulling both layers of clothing down your legs. large hands settle on the back of your thighs, pushing them back to spread you open for him. your cunt dribbles and he groans, his finger sliding up your slit immediately.

crying out loudly when he bumps your sticky clit, you reach down, your nails digging into his tanned shoulders when he starts to trace up and down your pussy. he teases your hole, barely pushing his finger into you before pulling out, staring up at you to watch your tits sway as your back arches away from the mattress

broad shoulders press into the back of your thighs as he leans in, kissing your clit before delving his tongue between your folds. you keen, pulling on his hair when he wastes no time, eating you out messily and loudly. the sound of him sucking and licking, lapping at your wet hole filling the room

his nose bumps against your clit and he growls against you when you shuffle, pressing your cunt further into his face, “tastes so good,” rafe whines and your jaw drops open at the neediness in his voice, a warmth starting to spread in your stomach, embarrassingly fast

he wraps his lips around your clit and starts to suck at the same time he pushes a finger into you. “fuck baby,” you pant, chest tightening. he slides in and out of your sloppy cunt a couple of times before adding another finger, pushing in deep

the coil in your stomach starts to tighten when he curls his fingers, pushing into your spot hard. his tongue flicks at your clit, timing it with his fingertips rubbing deep inside of you. he mumbles against your cunt though you can’t make out what he says but it vibrates harshly through you, causing you to clench around him

a stream of, “oh god’s” fall from your mouth as you get closer to your orgasm. you pull on his hair and writhe beneath him, his free hand moves to hold your hip down. you struggle against his hand and he huffs, throwing his forearm across your waist, forcefully holding you down, “fuck” you whine

his fingers slip out of you temporarily and you suck in a harsh breath, your cheeks puffing out when three fingers push back in, “angel,” he pulls away to mumble, his lips and chin shining with your slick, you moan in reply. “i need you to come, can you do that for me?” he grits his teeth, angling his wrist just right to push you even further to the edge

“yeah” you pant, your brain switching off as you’re not even sure what you’re saying yeah to. heat burns from your stomach to your cunt and stars start to sparkle behind your eyes as the coil starts to snap, “o-oh, fuck, yes” you squeak

“there you go,” rafe drags out the first word, fingers working while you ride out your high, “so fucking good,” he mumbles to himself before licking over your clit once. his fingers slip out of you, strings of come keeping them connected together. you come back around, pushing your head up just in time to see his tongue darting out over his fingers

he stands up and your eyes dart to his crotch, erection still pressing against his trousers. you sit up, head still foggy with the post orgasm haze. your fingers trace the outline of his cock and he hisses, head tilted back to the ceiling. slowly you pull on his belt, metal clanging when it comes undone. you pull the zipper down even slower, looking up at rafe as you unpop the button last.

you look a picture, soft, watery eyes, pink cheeks and swollen lips. honestly, he could come there and then, in his pants. his trousers fall down his thighs, revealing his boxers. you bite down on your bottom lip as your thumb slides over the dark spot, pre come leaking through the fabric.

hooking your fingers under the thick waistband, you pull, keeping eye contact with your boyfriend. he moans when his cock springs free, dangling just over your face. he’s big, long and thick. the tip is angry, red and dribbling, pre come beading and threatening to drip. you stick your tongue out and lean forwards, collecting it before it goes to waste.

“oh, shit,” rafe groans, deep and low, his hand cupping the back of your head. you look up at him and nudge your head back against his hand, giving him permission. he guides you forward, the tip of his cock brushing against your lips.

a whine falls from your mouth as you part your lips around him. his hips roll forward, forcing his dick into your mouth, his hand on your head keeping you there. you swirl your tongue around him, tracing the vein on the underside of his cock and he grunts, hips stuttering involuntary

his fingers tighten in your hair and you breathe through your nose, knowing what’s coming next. he pulls you back until just the head spreads your lips open and you start to suck, moaning when warm pre come floods your mouth, “so good,” rafe whispers breathlessly.

slowly he pushes you back down his length, your eyes water when he hits the back of your throat and you frown slightly, realising he’s not even all the way in. “it’ll fit, don’t worry,” rafe smirks slightly, looking down at your wet eyes

nodding you breathe through your nose, letting him push you down until he’s snug in your throat. he rocks back and fourth, gently fucking into your warm, wet mouth and your eyes stream, your throat closing around him, attempting to push him out.

your hand leaves his thigh, reaching for his balls. rolling them softly between your fingers causes his cock to kick in your mouth, twitching violently as his hips shift forwards, “oh god, your mouth” he growls, pulling you off of him completely. spit and come leaks from the corner of your mouth and you heave, filling your lungs while tears run down your cheeks

“please” you whisper, your hand wrapping round the base of his dick. you squeeze gently and his head tilts back. your tongue lolls out of your mouth and you flick under the tip before dipping against his slit. humming to yourself, you suck him into your mouth again.

in your free hand his balls start to draw up, tightening in your grip, “fuck angel,” rafe moans loudly, his chest shuddering, his abs clenching. you slide along his length, dribbling around him as your mind clouds. the hand that was wrapped around him drops, your fingers dipping into your own wetness, circling around your clit

both of you moan, desperately, as warmth starts to spread in your stomach for the second time. rafe grits his teeth, sucking in harsh breaths as his fingers tighten in your hair again, “fuck,” he drags the word out, “oh god, oh go-, baby, no, fuck” he rambles, pulling you off of him, his dick slipping out of your mouth.

before you can whine he crowds into your space. he steps out of his trousers and boxers and moves in between your legs, “wanna come inside you,” he mumbles, dragging his lips lazily over yours, tasting himself on your tongue.

the tip of his dick parts your folds, dragging up to your clit and then back down. loud sticky sounds fill the room and your back arches at the same time he rolls forward, his cock splitting you open in one deep thrust.

“oh fuck, rafe!” you cry, a hand tangling into his messy hair, another going to his back. nails scratch at his muscly back when he pulls back and you’re sure you draw blood when he rolls forward, tip bumping your cervix, filling you to the point you can feel it in your chest

clenching around him makes him pant, his head dropping into the crook of your neck. he sucks and bites over your skin between groans and moans that line up with yours. your cunt drips, wetness slipping down to soak his thighs and the sheets beneath you

the veins on his length drag against your walls and his balls slap against you as he pounds you into the mattress, deep, harsh thrusts that stretch you open around him, moulding your pussy to fit only him.

rafe hovers over you, his hands scrambling to find yours. his fingers tangle with yours, bringing your hands back to the bed, pinning them down either side of your head. he holds your hands so sweetly while he fucks you, “such a good girl, my girl” he moans against your damp cheek

“yeah,” you whine, brain failing you as it turns to liquid inside your head. your hips rut off of the bed, meeting his thrusts in the middle with a filthy slap. your tits press against his chest, your nipples dragging over solid muscles which makes you shudder

“come on baby, need you to come for me” rafe starts to ramble when his dick twitches inside you, he’s as close as you are, “need you to come around my cock, tight little pussy, was made just for me,” he grunts

pinching your tongue between your lips you start to nod your head, words being places by moans and whines, “m’close,” you manage to get out. his hips grind against yours and you tighten, coil beginning to snap, “come with me,” you whine

rafe growls, his fingers squeezings yours, “yeah, fucki- come for me, i need it, i'm coming,” he pants and it sends you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him like a vice, “take it, take it all” thick ropes of come splash up your walls, his cock kicking and his body shuddering against yours

your stomach burns, stars still shining in your vision while your cunt pulses, sucking him further into you and keeping him there as your bodies give out. he collapses down on top of you, his hot breath fanning over your sweaty skin. you let go of his hands and wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close, “i love you,” you whisper, kissing his cheek

it takes him a minute to register what you’ve said, “i love you too,” he replies softly, pushing himself up over you again, “so, so much” he kisses you three times again, sweet and short kisses that make you smile against him. he hums appreciatively, “you still taste like watermelon”

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

[missannwinchester]

Good girl (Joel/Reader, nsfw)

Joel Miller/Reader

Rating: E

Summary: Joel’s friend invited him to his peaceful resort by the lake. His stay there turns out not as peaceful as Joel had hoped when it turns out he set his eyes on the only woman in the resort that should be off limits.

Warnings: super cheesy, all over the place, dad’s best friend, age difference, slightly rough sex, outdoor sex, nsfw, dirty talk

Joel drove through the forest, the asphalt road leading him straight to the resort. He took a sip of cold, gas station coffee, slowing down as the road became full of potholes. He could smell the fresh scent of pine trees as the wind flew into the car through open windows. Despite wearing sunglasses, Joel squinted each time the sun appeared between the trees. He was driving to his friend’s resort to spend one week in a place with small wooden cabins, a huge lake, boats for rent and no reception and he couldn’t be happier. He desperately needed vacation, and talking to another human being, who happened to be his old buddy, seemed like a dream.

He parked his car, drank the rest of the coffee and got out of the car, taking his black duffel bag from the backseat. He looked around and smiled at the trees swaying in the gentle wind and turned, facing the nearby lake, trying to adjust his eyes to the brightness of the sun dancing in its reflection. He stood like that for a while, inhaling the scent of the forest, before he decided to go check in. He headed for a cabin with a huge ‘reception desk’ banner and took his glasses off as soon as he went inside, standing face to face with the prettiest woman he saw in a while. Not that a hermit like him saw women often, but still.

“Hello,” she greeted him quite cheerfully, but she was clearly surprised to see him.

Joel smiled at her, almost automatically forgetting about his usually gruff demeanor towards new people.

“Hi,” he said, rather sheepishly.

If he had to speak from experience, clerks in places like that were usually awkward middle-aged men, scrawny college frat boys or older women who always flirted with him.

“Did you have a reservation?” She asked, suspecting he hadn’t.

“Uh, no,” he responded. “I was hoping you’d have free cabins by chance, I’d like to stay for a week,” he blurted out and looked into her bright, beautiful eyes. He didn’t mention that he had just talked to the owner of this place or that he was promised ‘the best cabin there was in the whole resort’.

“Lucky for you, there are two cabins available for one week, one right in front of us, by the parking lot and my personal favorite, hidden a little further behind the trees, right by the lake, but it’s got a con and it costs twice as much as the parking lot one,” she explained, not breaking eye contact, staring into his dark eyes with fascination.

This man was extremely handsome, well-built, very broad, and his eyes? His eyes were truly something else.

“I’ll take that personal favorite of yours,” he smiled and took out his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans, forced to stop staring at her for a while.

She took a piece of paper and bit her lips when she reached for a pencil.

“Is anyone joining you?”

“No,” he said, leaning against the counter as she wrote something down.

“Breakfast included? Costs just extra 4 dollars per day.”

“I think so,” he retorted and she wrote something down again.

“So, when do you want to check out? Wednesday next week?”

“That’s right,” he nodded and she took a calculator and told him the price.

“I need to take a look at your ID,” she said and he complied, giving her the document.

“Okay, welcome to the resort, Joel. That’s the key, and here’s a map you can use to find your cabin or,” she said, sliding the map and key across the counter, “or I could just walk you there,” she suggested trying to sound breezy.

See, she had always been a good girl. Sunday school, do as she was told, good girl. She went to a good school, met a good man, got a good job, rented a good apartment, lived a good life. A good school she didn’t choose, with a good man she didn’t love and a good job that made her want to die in a good apartment that didn’t feel like home.

“It’s a little far, that’s all and… all the trees look kinda the same, but… well, you have a map,” she babbled, trying not to sound stupid.

“I’ve never been good with maps,” he smiled at her before he took the map and purposefully looked at it upside down, making her chuckle.

“I better walk you then,” she told him.

They walked for about five minutes through the forest, avoiding the small, crowded beach by the lake. The path was very narrow so Joel walked a few steps behind her. She could almost feel his eyes on her tight jeans shorts and she took a mental note to check out his bottom as well.

“How far is the cabin exactly?” Joel asked curiously.

“A little further,” she said. “You know, if you could read that map you’d know it shows an estimated time that you need to get from your cabin to all the important places? Like the breakfast lounge, boat rental or the reception desk,” she told him and slowed down a little, as the path became wider and now he could walk beside her.

“Interesting,” he admitted and eyed the map, quickly reading details about breakfast and how long it takes to go to the restaurant. “So, are you needed at the reception desk or can you show me around?”

“I can, no one's scheduled to arrive today. You were lucky I was even there when you showed up,” she told him and smiled at him playfully.

“Lucky indeed,” he smiled. “When you’re not there, what do you do all day?” He wondered.

“Well… that’s your cabin,” she announced and gestured to the pretty little house. “And as for what I do, I guess I mostly sit on a pier,” she laughed and Joel looked at the map.

“16 minutes that way,” he said, pointing his finger at the forest.

“Wow, you got better at it so fast,” she joked, but then she bit her lip hesitantly. “Actually, this one is not on the map,” she confessed quietly, as if she was telling a secret.

“Oh,” Joel sounded intrigued and waited for her to elaborate.

“We could go there if…” she sighed.

“If?” He prompted.

“If you promise me you’ll never go there without me. It’s mine and mine only,” she said quite sternly, looking at him with confidence.

“I promise, scout’s honor,” he responded without hesitation.

“Alright. Go, leave your bag, I’ll wait,” she promised and Joel went to the cabin and tossed his duffel bag inside carelessly and almost ran back to her.

His heart had been fluttering ever since he saw her, he figured it would stop after a while, but it was probably gonna be a longer while.

Fifteen minutes later they were standing on a pier. It was surrounded by water and reeds.

“Isn’t it awesome? We can see the lake, but the lake can’t see us,” she said with a grin. “I love this place,” she told him.

“I can see why,” he muttered, taking a deep breath, looking at the beautiful landscape surrounding him.

“Tourists never come by here, they stick to the other side of the lake, so it’s very peaceful,” she told him.

“And the view’s nice,” he said, looking straight at her and she smiled, suddenly a little shy.

“Yeah, especially when you actually look at the view,” she blurted out, pointing at the lake.

“Well I don’t know, I like looking over here,” he confessed, his body turned towards her. “You’d make any view better,” he whispered, but gave her space in case he read the signals wrong.

She turned, facing him with a smile dancing on her lips. She took a tiny step forward, getting closer to him, but not closing the gap between them, leaving him some room to decide what to do next. He also stepped forward, now standing in her personal space, their bodies almost touching.

“Does this line always work?” She wondered out loud, looking up at his face.

“Well, it seems to be working this time,” he responded and reached out to grab her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers, his other hand touched her hair, which was as soft as he expected, tucking them behind her ear as she leaned into his touch making his boxers even tighter now than a second ago. “What about your line?”

“What do you mean?” She asked unsurely.

“About the secret pier?” He clarified. “About how no one can see us.”

Her free hand traveled up his chest to rest on his shoulder and she knew it would be a horrible time to mention that she had never done anything like this before, not on this pier, nor anywhere else. The only sex she had was with her lousy ex fiance and for that she should have got an award for the best actress in a live action short film because she always had to fake it. So here she was, having her very first summer fling with an older guy and she had never been so aroused in her whole life.

“Seems to be working this time,” she smiled.

Joel leaned down and kissed her, slowly but surely and she responded, parting her lips, letting his tongue slide in. He tasted like something sweet and vaguely familiar and she gasped softly as his tongue explored her mouth. His hands were on her back, pulling her close and hers were wrapped around his neck, fingers playing with hair at the back of his head. His lips left hers and she was disappointed for a second before she felt them on her neck.

“Are you gonna tell me your name?” He asked, focusing his actions on her jawline.

He frowned when she tensed, grabbing his T-shirt, lightly pushing him away, but not letting him go. She told him her name.

Her grip on his T-shirt was quite strong considering her size and Joel could see how aroused she was. She pulled him towards her and kissed him deeply, dominating the kiss. He pushed his leg between hers, his hand on her ass, pulling her closer to him. She grinded against him and he hummed when he pressed his erection at her hip. She gasped into his mouth and pulled at the waistband of his jeans. She had never felt like this before, like she could come right there, dry humping him.

Joel unbuckled his belt and took off his jeans as she did the same. Her shorts fell on the pier and she felt a little self conscious. She tugged at the waistband of his boxers, pulling him into a kiss, his hand immediately found their way to her ass, squeezing it and slapping it very, very lightly, just enough to make it bounce. She sucked on his neck for a while before she pushed his boxers down and felt his fingers sliding under the soft material of her panties, pushing them down her smooth legs. He brushed his finger against her wet folds, sliding it in slowly, his thumb on her clit. He finger fucked her slowly, adding another digit while kissing her shoulder. She moaned at the sensation and slid her hands under his T-shirt, exploring his back. She was on the edge, waiting for him to just lightly, lightly push her.

“Hop up?” He suggested, reading from her uncertain expression that she might have some doubts.

“Um… up… you mean…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you ride me, sweetheart,” he promised and she nodded, wrapping her hands around his neck, waiting for him to pick her up.

When he did, she squeezed him with her legs, kissing him and sucking on his lip. She noticed that he was insanely strong, it seemed like she didn’t weigh anything to him. One of his arms snuck under her leg and pushed her a little higher and the other positioned his cock right at her entrance. He supported her butt lightly, as she slowly lowered herself on his thick shaft. Her walls stretched around him and she let out a quiet moan when she heard him groan. She felt his eyes on her face and she looked at him, rolling her hips, making him gasp into her face. Encouraged by him, she started riding his cock, squeezing him tightly with her thighs. He dug his fingers into her hips, almost painfully as he grunted when she lowered herself again, but his touch quickly softened again. He was helping her up and down, but he had to stop himself from straight up ramming her down on him.

“You can hold me like before,” she whispered. “I like how strong you are,” she told him and she felt his fingers digging into her flesh greedily and she heard a low growl as he closed his eyes to prevent them from rolling back. 

“You like it rough?” He guessed and she realized she does actually like it rough. “Fuck, you’re so damn sexy, he growled.”

His confession gave her a boost of confidence that she needed, their pace was now relentless, the soft moans she made were driving him crazy, he felt like he could explode any second. He knew she was close, because her whimpers were becoming louder with each roll of his hips. She was gripping his T-shirt tightly, holding onto him with shaky arms and she wondered how he could do it, standing so straight up. He broke the sloppy kiss and licked the side of her neck, then nibbled on it softly. She moaned, a little ashamed of herself as she had never actually moaned during sex before. Without thinking, Joel brushed his teeth against her skin, scratching it.

“Fuck, sorry,” he apologized quickly when her legs jerked around him, knowing it must have hurt and he leaned to to kiss that spot better, but she whimpered loudly and dug her fingernails into the back of his neck, making him think that he misread her reaction.

“Did you like it?” He asked, already sure what the answer would be when he felt her teeth brush against his skin shyly, not enough to even leave a mark.

He guessed it might have been her first time and he hummed, trying to encourage her to use her teeth.

“Yeah,” she moaned quietly in response and Joel felt her timidity.

He noticed that her confidence decreased the moment she took her pants off, but he didn’t mind, knowing that if this went well he would have more time to rock her world again during his stay.

“It’s okay sweetie, I like it too,” he assured her and did it again, letting his teeth leave a mark on her shoulder. “Do you like it when I talk?”

“I do,” she admitted, not slowing down.

“Fuck yes,” he groaned and found her lips and his tongue slid in to start a sloppy kiss.

She started panting and Joel leaned down again to bite and suck on her neck and the second his teeth pinched her neck she came with him buried deep inside her. Her walls pulsed around him and he came too, rolling his hips into her one last time. He held her through her orgasm as he focused on not letting his knees give out as he panted loudly. She stopped squeezing him and let go of his T-shirt as she hummed contently, kissing him on the neck, on the hickey she had left on his soft skin. He helped her off his cock and he carefully put her back on the pier. He kissed her softly, his tongue gently brushed her lip. She smiled and pulled her shirt down to make it a little longer. She looked around in the search for her underwear. Joel got the hint and found his boxers while she was busy putting on her shorts. He winked at her with a smile while putting on jeans and she smiled back, comforted by his face expression.

“It was… very nice to meet you, Joel,” she said.

“My pleasure,” he muttered under his breath.

He came to face her again and his eyes traveled down her neck where she had a red mark left by his teeth.

“Well, it seems like a good start of a mindblowing week,” he whispered hopefully and she looked at him finally, nodding her head. “We could do this again tomorrow.”

“You know where to find me,” she reminded him with a smile.

“Will you walk me to my cabin?” He asked.

“Totally,” she said and started walking awkwardly towards the forest.

It all happened so fast, she wasn’t even sure if it was real. 

“Actually, I was… I was hoping to meet the guy who owns the place, would you tell him I checked in when he comes back?” Joel asked.

“Yeah,” she nodded, just then thinking of her father. “Can you maybe not mention to him the…”

“The warm welcome?” He chuckled. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“I’m actually kind of supposed to sit at the reception desk all the time,” she confessed. “If anyone asks, you got to your cabin all by yourself.”

“Sure thing,” he promised, not thinking much about it.

He leaned down and grabbed her butt. He gave it a firm squeeze and pushed her forward a little, and taking advantage of her initial shock, he kissed her passionately.

“I’ll find you tomorrow,” he promised and let her go, walking slowly towards the cabin.

“You better,” she muttered and bit her lip as she tilted her head, looking at his ass as he walked through the long grass.

A couple of hours later, she was sitting behind the reception desk, reading one of the old books she had found in one of the drawers. She turned the page, bored out of her mind and she glanced at her phone to see what time it was. She sighed loudly and threw the book at the counter. She got up from her seat and walked up to the window. She sighed one more time and pressed her forehead against the cold glass. Her dad was supposed to be at the resort in the evening and even though he hadn’t precised when, she was getting impatient. The reception was horrible so there was no use in even trying to call him. She locked up and headed towards the lake. The sun was setting, painting beautiful colors in the sky. She took her shoes off and walked into the lake, trying to ignore the screaming children who were running next to her. The water was quite cold, so she stopped after just a few steps, wiggling her toes in the sand. She could no longer see the sun as it hid behind the trees, but she enjoyed the colors dancing in the water. Despite the commotion, she heard a car engine and she turned her head to see her father’s truck on the rickety road. She walked out of the water slowly and picked up her shoes, walking lazily towards the parking lot. She saw her dad's silhouette from afar, she guessed he was holding something in his hand, probably his phone. He waved at someone and she heard his laugh. She smiled, glad that after all those years her dad was still excited to run the resort. The staff loved him and it was nice to watch as he joked around with them. Trying not to step on anything sharp barefoot, she walked slowly and carefully, avoiding the pine cones, but she was already right next to the parking lot. Involuntarily, her gaze followed her dad and that’s when she saw something strange. Her dad was hugging… Joel. Her dad was hugging Joel. She stopped and blinked a few times. Sure, she saw that guy one time, but she was certain that was him.

“You finally showed up man,” she heard her dad’s cheerful voice. “That calls for a celebration!”

“Definitely!” He responded and the men finally let go of each other. “I brought booze!” He said, handing his friend a paper bag.

“Let’s get you drunk like that time in Wichita!” Her dad cheered.

“I don’t remember ever being in Wichita,” Joel protested with a frown.

He turned around, motioning Joel to come with him and that’s when he saw his daughter and he greeted her with a smile.

“Hey,” he started, walking up to her, “that’s my old friend Joel, I met him way before I met you,” he laughed and she hoped she managed to hide how horrified she was.

She quickly glanced at Joel and for a second, his eyes met hers and he gulped, then, as if nothing happened he put a perfect poker face on.

“Joel, you must have met my daughter,” he said proudly. “Did she show you around?”

“She gave me a map,” Joel said quickly, faking a smile.

“That’s my girl!” His friend laughed. “Let’s go grab a bite, tomorrow I’m gonna take you fishing, Joel! See, we have this secret pier, it’s not on the map…”

The end

Thank you for reading :)

~Ann

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  SWEET KANSAS HONEY

SUMMARY : invited by her friend to a bee farm, but Dean wasn’t invited to their cute day out. Dean gets pouty… and, ya know, horny.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : lavender mcclenic (oc), athena fonseca (oc)

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), phone sex, dirty talk, sexting, voice kink, masturbation 

WORD COUNT : 1.5k

A/N : jamies elsewhere song title. this fills the free space square on my @jacklesversebingo card. lavender is based off of my best friend (athena is based off her gf) we have fictional plans to live on a farm, and have a tunnel connecting our houses LOL xxx

“Ah, this is exactly what we said our future would look like,” Y/n grinned, fixing the sunglasses on her face. She turned to face her friend, who did the same, walking towards the little shed where they could change into protective gear.

“Not really,” Lavender laughed, “you’ve got a boyfriend you love with all your cheesy heart. We don’t have a tunnel under our house like we said we’d have,” she listed, playfully. Y/n rolled her eyes and kicked the door open gently, sliding her foot along the bottom of the door as she stepped in before Lavender, looking around curiously. 

“Well, at least we’re still here, on a farm, makin’ money,” Y/n grinned, letting the door shut once her friend was inside collecting the white suits for them to slip into. Y/n placed her phone on the wooden table inside, the walls decorated with tools, and other items she didn’t know how to use. 

She changed quietly with Lavender, lifting the white suit over her regular clothes. They looked up at the same time and bursted out laughing for no reason at all. They were both bad at emotions, at least at saying them out loud, but Y/n had a feeling that laughter was a wordless I missed you. The phone on the table buzzed and Lavender looked over curiously when Y/n didn’t look. 

“It’s that boyfriend of yours,” Lavender teased, “you were so against dating, remember that?” Y/n shook her head and laughed, making sure she was ready to leave as Lav finished up.

“Whatever. So were you,” she dismissed, grabbing her phone with bare hands at the text notification with Dean’s name. She smiled, but she didn’t open it, and Dean sent another message. Her smile got wider.

“We grew up then,” her friend suggested, walking towards the door to open it with her back. 

“Sort of, I still like bees and honey,” Y/n told her, taking her own gloves before following her friend out.

“And I still think we should build a tunnel connecting our two houses. There’s plenty of land. I’d… do anything for you,” Lav hesitated with the last part, her cheeks turning pink. 

“Lav… that’s sweet, but-”

“The offer stands. Five years, or tomorrow—until we lose it all.” Lavender waved her hand to dismiss it and walked faster to avoid the embarrassment of being, well, loving. Dean texted her once more and she groaned softly. Either it’s an emergency or Dean’s just trying to get her attention. 

“I’m gonna…” Y/n trailed off and Lavender turned around and tilted her head at her friend. She lifted her phone and shook it. 

“Yeah, go, before I embarrass us both and keep saying sappy shit like that. I need a cleanse,” Lavender grunted, meeting her girlfriend who had the honey collecting tools on standby.

“Me too,” Y/n smiled, then turned around to check Dean’s messages. 

dean : Good morning, sexy, it’s been fifteen hours since I last saw you and I’m bored. So bored. How did I go through my childhood without you? :((

She laughed softly. 

dean : I woke up early and I was so cold because you weren’t sleeping next to me. 

Liar. He wears socks, pyjama pants, and a Henley to sleep. He’s the one who provides the warmth. Of course, he was just trying to be cute. And it was working. 

dean : I did a whole bunch of chores though. I cooked. Took Miracle out for a walk. Cleaned our room. And the Dean Cave. But I’m done now.

She smiled as she imagined him doing all of that. He’s undeniably adorable. He knew that. He knew how much he meant to her. She saw three speech bubbles appear, so she waited for his next message. 

dean : Oh. Hi, baby. I see you’re reading my texts now. I just want you to know… I’m picturing you coming home with a whole bunch of honey. And guess what? I’m licking it off your body. Yummy. 

She bit her lip as heat bloomed across her face. 

me : Good morning, handsome. I miss you, too. You’ve finished doing all that? Why don’t you watch a movie now? Read one of those books you’ve been wanting to read. Go to that bar that serves your favourite nachos, boys’ night out. I’ve got loads of suggestions if you run out. 

me : Also, you weren’t cold, but that’s cute. 

me : Second also, you can’t text things like that when we’re not together… very naughty, I don’t appreciate it. X

She saw the speech bubble again and she bit her lip, looking across at Athena and Lavender laughing together while they scraped the panels for honey. She smiled at them and missed Dean even more. 

She didn’t expect to see a photo. Not one quite like the one Dean sent. 

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, looking back up. She clicked the photo anyway, a smile growing on her face, and arousal dampening her underwear.

Dean was in the shower. 

Of course he’d take his phone with him. Of course he’d take the chance to get off. He had a high sex drive. He was daring. Unafraid. And he knew how hot he was. Especially all naked and wet. With his body all taut and flushed pink from the heat of the water. With his face distorted in delicious pleasure as he touched himself, his lip plump and trapped beneath his cute teeth. With his hand wrapped tightly around his cock. 

dean : I fig read what you seny 

She laughed softly. And decided to call him instead. He picked up instantly. She heard the water falling against tile and skin before she heard his heavy breaths or his husky voice. 

“Dean,” she whispered, her cheeks on fire.

“Hi, babe,” Dean moaned and she gasped, her stomach twisting with excitement. “I was expecting a text, a photo, not a phone call, but, uh, I appreciate it.” She shook her head, listening closely to the loud, lewd, sound of his wet hand moving quickly along his cock. 

“You’re jerking off?” She blurted out, looking up at Lavender and Athena who were waving her over impatiently. She smiled at them and nodded, putting her finger up. 

“Mmm, my morning’s been good, too. Well, kinda, thanks for asking, beautiful,” he replied sarcastically, moaning occasionally as he spoke. Her clit pulse and she squeezed her thighs to stop the discomfort of her arousal. 

“Dean…” She moaned, but there was a hint of hesitation that he picked up on. He groaned. 

“I’ll hang up, but please, text me something dirty so I get at least a bit of reality in my fantasy,” he begged. She heard him swear quietly and then he laughed breathlessly. 

She closed her eyes and thought about what to do. What to say. He sounded so hot, groaning and moaning her name, pumping his cock through his fingers faster and faster. 

“Dean,” she purred. He hummed softly, distracted by his pleasure. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” she instructed, smirking when he groaned long and loud. “I want to hear you, baby. Fuck, I wish I could see you. I wish I had you in my mouth right now so I can swallow every ounce of your cum.” Dean cursed loudly, brokenly moaning her name as he came.

He panted into the phone and she bit her lip, waiting patiently for him to recompose himself. 

“Ah, fuck,” he murmured and she lifted a brow curiously. “That was hot, baby. We should do it often. Like… even when you are here. I’ll be in the dungeon and you can be in the garage,” he laughed softly to himself and she rolled her eyes. “I miss you. I know it hasn't been that long and that I’ve been sleeping for a majority of the time… I guess I’m just not used to being alone anymore. Without you. I’m sorry for interrupting your time with your friend.”

Her smile softened. “I miss you, too, Dean. And it’s okay… I’ll be back Sunday evening. That’s tomorrow, by the way,” she teased and Dean laughed shyly.

“You didn’t say yes or no to my idea,” he reminded her. 

She smiled. “Of course it’s a yes.”

“How about tonight? Can we set up a time for it?” He asked excitedly, then the water shut off, and she heard his wet footsteps, then the soft sound of his towel. 

“Yes, I’ll text you,” she breathed out. “Now, stop doing… whatever it was that turned you on, and get some proper work done,” she laughed, putting one glove on as she prepared to go with her friends.

“I… just got horny suddenly when I was taking a break. I was reading… ya know, All About Love,” he hesitated. 

“What? Why?” She laughed, but she knew him well, and she’d read the book. “Stop thinking of me. It makes me wet,” she pouted playfully and he laughed again. “And next time you take a break, don’t touch your dick… Until I tell you to do so,” she added with a grin.

“I love you.” She could hear the smile in Dean’s voice, the open and shut of doors. 

“I love you, Dean,” she responded lovingly. She could hear him breath softly and hum shyly, a whispered bye, and she hung up. 

“Wow, you just throw around the L word, now, eh?” Lavender teased as Y/n walked closer to them, ready to join them. Y/n laughed sarcastically and Athena giggled. 

“Shut up,” Y/n grumbled, playfully snatching the tool in Lavender’s hand to help them out.

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles @ohnosy @juicyballsworld @angelbabyyy99 @girls-alias @impala1967rollingthroughtown @kezibear

or follow @deanbrainrotlibrary for fic notifications

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

dean’s 45th birthday celebration masterlist

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO DEANBRAINROTWRITINGS 

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform