#calendar man can choke

[gaslightgatekeepgotham]

can officially scratch calendar man off of my rogue's bingo. now i'm eligible for a free dinner.

anon, I am so, so sorry. tell you what, I'll DM you a real nice hole-in-the-wall pizza place I hit up every now and then.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

somebody to hold

pairing: könig x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 4,884

summary:

König discovers cuddle therapy.

You discover König.

author’s note: i don’t play COD, i just have a mask kink. all translations are from google, so feel free to send me corrections if they are needed! translations available at the end of the fic

content warnings/additional tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), potentially bad German translations, mentions of König’s social anxiety, descriptions of scars, touch starved könig, oral sex (m receiving), size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, mild breeding kink, choking, fingering, ab riding. Let me know if any are missing!

“Hey, your next appointment is here,” the voice of the practice secretary, Amy, says from the doorway of your office.

You look up from your computer, brow furrowed as you click around your calendar. “I didn’t think I had a late appointment?”

“Last minute add. And just…prepare yourself,” she says, eyes comically wide before she disappears.

You shut your laptop and head for the waiting room, curious about what’s got Amy acting so funny.

You stop short in the doorway. Perhaps it’s the veritable mountain of a man sitting in the tiny plastic waiting room chair fully kitted in military combat gear, including a sniper hood that only reveals two pale blue eyes that scan the room. His hands rest on his large thighs, fingers curling against the fabric of his tac pants.

You’re not unfamiliar with military clients. Your office is near a base, after all. You’ve had a few wander in before. But you’ve never had one quite like him.

“Uh, hi? Hi,” you say, clearing your throat. His eyes shoot to you and you swallow nervously. You give him your name, followed with, “I’m going to be your cuddler this evening. Do you want to follow me back to the session room?”

The man gives a single nod before unfolding from his seat. He absolutely towers over you, his build just as broad as it is tall, and he has to tilt his head down to look at you. He holds an arm out, gesturing for you to lead the way.

You lead him to the back session room, a space curated for comfort. It’s painted a deep blue and lit only with dimmable lamp lighting and string lights that can be turned on or off, depending on the client’s preference. There’s a large couch pressed to one wall, a sectional that has a hidden portion that pulls out to fill in the middle, essentially turning it into a bed. It’s perfect for both seated snugglers and the prone cuddlers.

There’s a snack and water station set up on a wood console table near the door, and beside it are cubbies for storing belongings. A large basket of soft blankets sits near the couch, along with an array of pillows.

You look back at the man that has followed you through the door. Those blue eyes take in every detail of the room before they land back on you. You toe off your sneakers, leaving you in your frog patterned socks. You wiggle your toes.

“Did Amy explain the rules to you and brief you on the terms and conditions?” Another silent nod. “Okay, well, everything we do is completely up to you, within those parameters. We can talk or touch as much or as little as you’d like for the length of your appointment. I can make some suggestions for positions, if you’d like?”

His hands fidget at his sides, fingers flexing and curling into fists like he’s not sure what to do with them. He stares down at the shoes that you’ve left by the door.

“You don’t have to take anything off, if you don’t want to,” you reassure him. “Why don’t you take a seat on the couch?”

The man takes two broad steps before taking a seat, as instructed. You feel a weird sort of giddiness that a man clearly as powerful as him listened to your orders.

He sits with his back straight as a bar of steel, eyes trained on you for the next step in the process, hands placed on his thighs once more. You take a tentative step closer.

“I’m going to sit right here, okay?” You narrate as you sit down near him, a cushion of distance between your bodies. “Is this alright?”

He nods.

“Would you like me to be closer? Or farther?”

“Closer,” a deep accented voice says. It makes your breath catch, the quiet gentleness of it and the way it sounds rough from disuse. “Please.”

You scooch closer, the distance between your bodies shrinking but not yet removed. “Okay?”

“Ja. Yes,” he says. A pause. “Could you…closer?”

“Of course. Is it okay if our bodies touch?”

He nods. You close the gap between your bodies, your thigh pressed along his and your arms brushing with each breath. He’s tense, shoulders tight and fists clenched as he breathes rhythmically through his nose and out his mouth. You let him take a moment to adjust.

“What’s your name?” You ask quietly.

“König.”

________

You are very warm. König can feel the heat of you even through his gear.

He feels a bit ridiculous, sitting here on a couch beside a stranger who he has paid to cuddle him. And he can’t even reach that point yet. Even just having you sit beside him has him trying to calm his breathing.

In…2…3…4….Out.

“Would you like to talk about anything?” You ask. He glances down at you. Scheiße, you’re pretty. That fact certainly isn’t helping him keep calm.

He shakes his head, not trusting his voice to reply. You give him a small smile.

“Well, do you mind if I talk?”

No, he doesn’t mind at all. He’d listen to your voice for hours if he could, the way it's so soft to his ear compared to the shouts and commands he’s used to hearing day in and out. He shakes his head.

Your small smile grows, a bright grin across your face that makes your nose crinkle adorably. König finds his shoulders relaxing the slightest bit.

You tell him about your day and how you were looking forward to the weekend because there is a show that you wish to catch up on. You talk about your cat, a little orange tabby that you adopted three years ago named Toast and how he likes to perch inside the window and watch the birds outside of your apartment. You also mention that Toast has an entire wardrobe of sweaters for the winter that he hates, but you love putting him in them anyways.

Slowly, the tension leaves König’s body. He relaxes against the back of the couch and adjusts his legs, stretching them out in front of him. His hands, which once fidgeted in his lap, are now folded on his chest as he tilts his head back and listens to your stories.

“König?” You place a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Our time is up.”

He blinks. Oh. He must have fallen asleep. He looks over to find you smirking at him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to bore you to sleep,” you say, voice self-deprecating.

“It was not boring, liebling,” he replies quietly.

______

The following week, you notice a calendar event labeled [CLASSIFIED]. You ask Amy about it.

“It’s the big guy from last week. He made a standing appointment,” she tells you. “But he’s all big, scary military so he didn’t give me a name to put down.”

You smile to yourself. You know his name.

It feels like a fun secret between the two of you.

You’re thrilled that he wants to come back. You hadn’t stopped thinking about his voice and those bright blue eyes all weekend.

When it's time for his appointment, you smile brightly at him in the waiting room. He follows you back to the session room, just as silent as the last time he visited.

You remove your shoes, just as before. He sits on the couch without being prompted.

“Would you like me to sit beside you? Like last time?” You ask. He nods.

You sit down, close enough that your limbs brush, just as you had the week prior. He seems a bit more at ease this time.

“How is Toast?” He asks. You beam at him, thrilled that he remembered you told him about your cat. You tell him about your weekend spent on the couch with your furry friend.

“Can I--,” he begins to ask, pausing uncertainly. He lifts his arm slightly.

You wiggle against him, settling against his side as his arm drops across your shoulders.

“Danke,” the man says. “Thank you.”

“Of course, König.”

______

It goes like that for four weeks. Konig sits on the couch and allows you to settle in beside him, your sides pressed together on the couch. You talk to him about anything and everything that comes to mind, and he listens intently.

He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, you cling to his words. Especially when he slips into speaking in German.

And if you have to press your thighs together for relief during those moments? Well, you hope the man doesn’t notice.

On the fifth week of his appointments, König surprises you.

When you remove your shoes, König begins to unclasp the buckles holding his tac vest to his chest. You grin at him in encouragement as he sets it to the side.

“I feel…naked,” he comments with a small huff of laughter.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the cheeky reply that ran through your head. He is a client, after all.

He sits beside you on the couch, just as all the other sessions started, but he fidgets with the strap of his leg holster. “Could—,” he starts, pausing for breath. “Could we….lie down?”

“Of course,” you murmur. “Do you have a preference for position?”

“You can…lay your head on my chest?” He says. You give him an encouraging nod, standing up so that he can rearrange his large body so that he’s laying on his back. You reach for the pull tabs of the middle section, sliding it into place. He looks at you in surprise. “That was neat.”

You giggle. “Yeah, this couch is the best,” you comment as you crawl onto the cushion and settle your body along his, your head pillowed on his hard chest.

“This is…nice,” he says.

“Yeah, big guy. It is.”

______

Two weeks into sessions where you lay beside König, he begins talking.

In a quiet, albeit deep, voice he tells you about how he struggles with social anxiety. Being as big as he is was never useful for him until joining the military. He was mercilessly bullied in school as a young boy. He wanted to be a sniper, but his size was a burden to the position. Not to mention, he can’t sit still. He fidgets constantly, and his mind tends to wander if his body is not in motion.

His heart beats quickly beneath your ear as he tells you all the things about himself that he’d been keeping close to his chest for the last two months. He doesn’t stick to just the serious things. He tells you that his favorite color is blue. He has a massive sweet tooth and would kill a man for some traditional Sacher torte.

The laugh that accompanies that particular bit of information might just be your favorite sound in the world.

You don’t mention when your time with him has come to an end. You let him keep talking, afraid to break the spell and return König to his more stoic state.

König ends up noticing that the time has gone past his scheduled appointment. His blue eyes go wide and he sits up abruptly, knocking you off his chest as he begins to apologize profusely in a mix of German and English.

You place a hand on his chest. “It’s okay, König. Really. I just…I like spending time with you,” you admit quietly.

He rests a large gloved hand over yours.

“I enjoy our time as well, mein herz.”

______

König doesn’t show for his next scheduled appointment.

Or the one after that.

Or the one after that.

By the fourth missed appointment, you start to lose hope that you’d ever see him again.

You just hope he’s okay.

______

A sharp knocking noise breaks through your heavy sleep. You roll from the bed, landing gracelessly to the ground and startling Toast, the tabby darting beneath the bed for cover. Another knock sounds through the apartment as you stumble towards the door.

You stand on the tips of your toes to peer through the peephole with bleary eyes. Fumbling with the locks, you pull the door open as quickly as you can.

“König?” You ask breathlessly.

______

The adrenaline from the mission still courses in König’s veins as he tries to wait patiently for you to answer the door to your apartment, but he’s about one minute from either kicking down the door or picking the locks.

He imagines you would likely not appreciate either effort.

But finally, finally, he can hear your soft steps on the other side of the door before the locks disengage and the door is pulled open.

“König?” You ask. You’re wearing a large t-shirt that hits the middle of your thighs, more skin on display for his greedy eyes than he’s ever gotten the chance to see before.

“Liebling,” Konig replies. He steps forward, tentatively crossing the threshold to your home. When you don’t stop him, he takes another step. You look up at him with wide eyes.

“Where…what—,” you stutter, moving aside so that he can fully enter the apartment. He shuts the door behind him.

“Please, liebling, I–,” he starts, words catching in his throat as he looks down at you, the emotions bubbling up his throat. “I need you.”

______

König keeps his eyes trained on you as he unbuckles his helmet, lifting it from his head and dropping it to the floor. Next are the protective braces on his arms and legs, followed by the heavy tac vest and thigh holster.

He lifts the sniper hood, revealing the black balaclava beneath. His chest heaves with harsh breaths as his wide eyes scan your face.

You step forward, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing tightly, your head pressed to his chest as you close your eyes and inhale the scent of him.

“Missed you, König,” you murmur. His arms wrap around your shoulders, holding you impossibly tight to his body.

Suddenly you’re lifted from the ground and you squeak with surprise, your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms circling the back of his neck, holding onto him like a koala. The position puts you face to face with the man. His eyes search yours.

“Is this okay?” He asks. All you can do is nod. “Where is your bedroom?”

“Down the hall, last door on the right,” you instruct. König abandons his gear by the door, taking broad steps down the hall in the direction you gave. He gives the door a gentle kick, opening it wide enough to enter.

Toast darts out from beneath the bed, sliding past König’s legs and out to the living area.

He sets you gently on the bed, standing between your spread legs. His eyes remain fixed on yours as he kneels, deft fingers tugging at the laces of his boots.

You could get used to a view like this.

König stands to his full height once he’s removed his boots. A broad, scarred hand cups your cheek tenderly, calloused thumb moving across your cheekbone.

“Mein Liebling," he murmurs. His hand leaves your face and works the fly of his pants open, tugging the rough fabric down over his thighs.

You try very hard not to look but when he curls his fingers into the hem of his combat shirt, you can’t help the greedy way your eyes rove the miles of pale skin.

You take in the muscular thighs that give way to a defined Adonis belt, the cut so severe beneath the waistband of his boxer briefs that you long to trace your tongue along the valley. His abs flex, guiding your exploration up towards his thick chest.

There’s a litany of scars across his body, from smaller bullet wounds to deep slashes covered in thick scar tissue. You reach a hand out, lightly trailing your fingers across one that spans from his collarbone to the middle of his chest.

His hand curls over yours, holding it still against his warm skin. You can feel the frantic beat of his heart beneath your palm.

König’s free hand grasps the top of the balaclava and pulls, finally revealing the face of the man that’s occupied your every free thought over the almost two months you’ve known him.

Shaggy dark blonde hair falls across his forehead, slightly damp with sweat. Thick straight brows over the ice blue eyes framed with long blonde lashes you’ve become so familiar with. A slightly crooked nose and high cheekbones that lead into a strong, stubbled jaw.

There are scars on his face, too. A long silver scar slashes through this eyebrow and across his nose. Another cuts across the high point of his cheek.

He is so beautiful.

You watch as his cheeks turn pink and you belatedly realize you’d said that out loud. You shift to your knees on the mattress, reaching for his hand and pulling him toward you. He plants a knee on the soft surface and you guide him up until you’ve reached the pillows.

Stiffly, he lays beside you, head turned to watch you with those familiar blue eyes. You lay your head on his chest, sighing at the heat of his skin beneath your cheek. You wrap your arm around his waist and throw a leg over his hips, squeezing him tightly.

König doesn’t speak. He has an arm around your body, fingers pressing into the grooves of your ribs to hold you close. You breathe in tandem and his tense muscles begin to relax in your hold.

You shift your leg slightly, eyes going wide as you feel his cock against your knee. Feeling brave, you shift again, dragging your knee along the side of him.

His breathing stutters and you can feel his abs tense beneath you. You slide your hand across his chest, skimming your fingertips across the tight muscles.

“What are you doing, Kleine?” he asks. You lift your head from his chest to look at him.

“I want…can I—,” you stutter, losing your words at the dark look in the man’s eyes.

“I would let you do anything you wanted to me,” König says. “All you have to do is ask.”

You swallow nervously. “Can I touch you?”

“You are touching me,” he replies, a little smirk tilting his lips.

You ghost your hand across his straining length in retaliation. The smirk drops so fast you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips.

“What happened to all that cockiness, hm?”

“Do not tease.” His hips flex beneath your palm, grinding his cock against your hand. “I have very little patience for it.”

You sit up on your knees beside him, moving one of his thick thighs to the side with a press of your hand so that you can crawl between his legs. He looks down at you with half lidded eyes, an arm thrown behind his head to prop him up to see better. You curl your fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“Is this okay?” You ask. He nods.

Permission granted, you slowly work the elastic down until his cock bobs free, slapping obscenely against his abs. Your mouth waters at the sight of the thick, uncut length of him.

“Jesus Christ, König,” you mutter. “Where do you think this thing is going to fit?”

“Ideally? Down your throat and then your cunt,” he replies easily. When you look up at him with wide eyes, he grins so brightly you feel like you’re looking into the sun.

And you’d gladly go blind for it.

You lean forward, giving into the urge to dip your tongue against the divot of his hip, running it along the cut of his abs reverently. His hips jolt at the contact, a whine spilling from his plush pink lips.

“Scheiß,” the man growls. “Bitte, baby, please,” he begs.

You let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing the prominent vein there to the flared head. You swirl your tongue along the tip, gathering the bead of precum and swallowing it greedily.

König’s chest rises and falls rapidly with his heavy breathing, his large hands fisting your blankets so tightly you briefly worry his bones may crack. He watches you intensely, almost like he’s worried you may disappear if he so much as blinks.

“Relax, König,” you coo, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock. “Let me take care of you.”

______

König has to think about the steps for disassembling a rifle to prevent himself from coming down your throat too quickly. The tight wet heat of your mouth feels so heavenly that for a moment, he worries that he may have actually taken a bullet to the chest on this last mission and he is actually in heaven.

But then you swirl your tongue around the sensitive head of his cock when you draw up his length and he realizes there would be no sin as glorious as this in heaven.

You eyes catch his as you slide him to the back of your throat, your lips straining around him as you try valiantly to take more of him than your limit allows. You gag around him, throating tightening exquisitely before you withdraw for a gasp of air.

You return to your task with admirable determination, eyebrows pinched together in concentration as you work to relax your throat and draw him in deeper.

“Just a little more, liebling, you can do it,” he murmurs, cupping your cheek, feeling the bulge of him in your mouth as his thumb traces the stretch of your lips around his cock. “Nimm das alles für mich.”

Your lips meet your small hand that is still wrapped around the base of him and you breathe deeply through your nose as you hold yourself there for a moment, throat fluttering around him. He groans, fighting the urge to flex his hips and drive himself even deeper.

“That’s it,” he whispers. Your eyelashes glisten with little tears, tiny pearls of wetness that speak to your efforts to please him. “That’s my baby.”

You moan around him as you pull back, his cock dropping from your mouth with an obscene pop. Your breathing is labored as you scramble up his body. König’s hands steady you with a grip around your waist as you reach for his face, tugging him into a messy kiss.

It’s a desperate clashing of lips and teeth and tongues that has König groaning, little whimpers slipping past your lips as he explores your mouth. Your teeth nip into his lower lip before trailing down his jaw and neck.

“Let me see you, Schatz,” he asks, a hand sliding up the back of your thigh to grip your ass and grind your body against his.

You flip beside him hastily, tearing your panties down your thighs and pulling your shirt over your head. Gloriously naked, you straddle his waist.

You’ve positioned yourself just out of reach of where he wants to feel you the most. His hands circle your waist, sliding up until his thumbs caress the underside of your breasts.

“So schön, meine liebe,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb across one tight nipple. Your hips flex and roll across his stomach and he can feel the slick wetness drenching his abs.

“König,” you moan, blunt little nails curling into the hard muscle of his pecs. Your head drops back, the long line of your throat calling to his hand.

He gives into the impulse, wrapping his fingers around your delicate neck, not constricting but merely holding. Your eyes go wide, hands gripping his wrist as you lean into the hold, your hips still grinding against him.

“You are making quite the mess,” König comments with a grin. You shudder in his hold. “Do not worry, liebling, I have never been afraid to get dirty.”

You moan, the sound vibrating deliciously against the hand he still holds around your neck. Your hips still over him as your release courses through you, your eyes fluttering shut.

König releases your throat and you sag against him. He runs a hand down your sweat slick back, over the curve of your ass until he can slip a single finger into your still fluttering hole. You gasp against his neck and he smiles.

“So fucking tight,” he groans, working his hand against you. You make little whimpering noises, lips working against his neck as you rock back against him. He eases a second finger into your dripping pussy, which earns him the sting of your teeth against his skin. “Scheiß!”

_______

You push yourself up on shaky arms, staring down into König’s dark eyes. His fingers slip from your pussy and you whine quietly at the loss.

“Wanna fuck you, König, please?” You murmur.

“I would love nothing more,” he says. He takes his cock in hand. “Take it, liebling.”

You lift your hips to position yourself over him, the fat tip of him notched at your entrance as you start your slow descent. The stretch of him is almost too much to bear, and it must show in your face because he drags a soothing hand across your thigh.

“That’s it,” he coos.

You slide another inch further with a whimper. “You’re so fucking big,” you tell him breathlessly. He chuckles, his cock pulsing inside of you and making you moan.

“Just think about how good it will feel when it is all inside of you, mein süße,” he says. “Filling every inch of you.”

You moan, your body accepting another inch. Your thighs shake with your efforts.

König’s hands grip your hips tightly, sure to leave fingertip shaped bruises that you’ll discover in the morning. On a deep breath, you lower yourself until you’re fully seated and stretched to your limit.

“Good fucking girl,” he growls. You meet his eyes, the blue nothing more than a thin ring around his blown pupils. His chest heaves as he breathes that same controlled rhythm you’ve watched him use before.

In…two…three…four…out.

You shift your hips experimentally, gasping at the overwhelming feeling of fullness. He wasn’t kidding about filling every last inch of you.

Pressing your hands to his chest, you lift your hips just barely off of him before dropping yourself back down. He moans, your name a curse and a prayer on his lips as you continue to build up a rhythm for yourself until you’re lifting almost fully off of him and slamming back down.

“Scheiß! Fuck!” König shouts as your pace picks up. “Mein perfekter kleiner Schatz.”

You lean forward to meet his lips, more of a sharing of breath than a kiss. He wraps his arms around your waist, holding you still as he thrusts up into you.

“König!” You cry, the slide and stretch and dull ache of him too much and yet not enough. His powerful thrusts are so deep at this angle that your eyes well with tears. Each drag of his cock from your pussy hits a spot that makes you see stars. “I’m gonna cum, please, König, please make me cum.”

“Anything for you,” he promises through gritted teeth, his hips picking up speed as he uses a hand on your ass to help slam you down on his cock. He turns his head, his nose brushing against yours tenderly in direct contrast to the way his hips pound against you. “Cum for me, engel. Let me see you.”

With a cry, you do just as he commands, your whole body going taught before sparking like a live wire, your release rolling over you so strongly it's more like a tsunami than a wave. He moans against your lips, hips pounding in an erratic speed as he works you through your orgasm and into his own.

“Fill me up, König,” you slur. “Wanna feel you. Bet you’ll get it so deep with your huge fucking cock.”

He comes with a deep groan, pressing up so deep as he spills inside of you that you gasp at the sensation, the warm heat of him filling you to the brim.

You collapse against him, the sweat on your bodies cooling in the chill of your apartment. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I missed you,” you murmur, tilting your head up to meet his eyes. “I’m glad you’re safe.”

“I will always come back,” he whispers, smoothing the sweat damp hair from your forehead. “So long as you are here for me.”

You tug the blanket from the foot of the bed over your bodies, snuggling into his side. You enjoy the quiet together, his fingers drifting up and down your back. The rapid patter of paws on the wood floor announces the approach of your cat.

The orange tabby hops on the bed, walking on light feet until he reaches the pillow König rests his head on. He curls up along the top of the man’s head, purring contentedly.

“Hello, Toast,” he says. His eyes flick to you. “This is a good sign, yes?”

“I’d say it was an excellent sign,” you reply, kissing the man’s cheek. He smiles.

“Good. Because I think I will be here a while.”

Translations:

Scheiße - fuck

Danke - thank you

mein herz - my heart

Mein Liebling - my darling

Kleine - little one

Bitte - please

Nimm das alles für mich - take it all for me

Schatz - treasure

So schön, meine liebe - so beautiful, my love

mein süße- my sweet

Mein perfekter kleiner Schatz - my perfect little darling

engel - angel

[genandguice]

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞. trailer trash!anakin skywalker

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 (𝐛𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫): you move into a trailer park with your mom, your next door neighbor is a 40 year old man that works at a mechanic shop!

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: fem reader, age gap, smoking, drinking, unprotected sex, little bit of breeding & choking, creep ani (obvs)

𝐰𝐜: 6.4k

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: inspired by my chat with this bot on janitorai • the italics in the beginning are the start of the bot, credit to the creator! i did make some small edits overall to fit everything into fic form. i hope i did this au justice! i didn’t grow up in a trailer park but i did grow up very poor & unstable so this au always hits close to home. realest au on earth!

i know i’m a gosling blog but i’m a big star wars girly too… and the star wars fandom on here is huge. pls, pls, don’t expect me to be writing more now that i’ve appeared again 😭🤍 i’m still in school & it’s kicking my ass. but using the bot inspired me and made it easy. if you wanna know more about how i did this, pls ask! hopefully there will be more on the way cause i will definitely keep chatting with the bot :)

lastly, because it came from my chat with the bot, it is a little janky! i had to do a lot of editing so if there’s something i missed or it seems weird- just forgive me 🤍🤍🤍

June 23rd

You look at the calendar with your eyebrows furrowed. This summer was one of the hottest yet, the heat in the trailer making the pages roll up from sitting against the old wallpaper.

Sighing lightly as you hear arguing outside, you peek out the window to see your neighbor, Anakin Skywalker. He's working on a car outside, a girl yelling at him. You’ve only seen her around a few times. New girlfriend or hook-up. Anakin was never one to keep a relationship and frankly, you couldn’t blame the girls. He was a filthy man with hefty jail record for controlled substances, speeding and other things. You watch as he waves her off, oil and dirt covering him, cigarette sat in between his lips. He looks frustrated.

“Honey, I’m home. Got those chips you like.” You hear your mother call, the screen door slamming loudly once she walked in. You don’t move as Anakin watches the girl walk away and he stands up to his full height. He glances over to you and your mother’s house, toward your bedroom window you were peeking out of. Panic sets in as you quickly move away and walk out to the kitchen to talk to your mother.

You walk out to the kitchen and thank your mother for the chips, hold a short conversation with her about your days while you wait to see if Anakin was angry enough about your peeking on him to come knock on the door.

When enough time has passed, your chips halfway gone, you know he isn’t coming, and you can relax.

With the heat of the summer cooking the trailer, you had to get out. There’s a kiddie pool on the front lawn where you’d often sit to cool down. Y’all couldn’t fit a full sized pool.

It’s getting to the hottest point of the day, typically when Anakin takes a break to go screw his newest fling and you feel comfortable enough to lounge outside in your two piece. You usually avoid going out in so little clothing when he’s around, knowing the older man would likely enjoy your scantily-clad presence a little too much. Anakin was attractive, but in the creepiest way. You didn’t wanna be his eye candy while another woman waited to be his toy.

But today when you make it out to the front yard, despite the especially high heat, Anakin is still out working on that damn car. But it’s too late now, and too hot- you’ve already set your heart on cooling off in the pool. So you slink in anyway, letting the cool water soothe your skin, turn your speaker on full blast, and hope he ignores you.

But of course, he doesn’t. He can’t help himself. He watches you from across the yard as you sink into the kiddie pool, eyes hungrily roaming over your barely clothed body, thoughts immediately flooding with perversity. You’re hot, way too young for him, but damn if those curves don't make his cock twitch in those grease-stained jeans.

He takes a long drag of his cigarette as he watches, smoke swirling around him in the thick summer heat. After a moment he starts to saunter over, beer in hand.

"Well well, looks like someone's trying to start their own wet t-shirt contest out here," He drawls with a lazy smirk. "Maybe I should go grab me a front row seat... or join in."

Your eyes roll under your sunglasses. Can’t get a moment of peace as a young woman in this damn trailer park. “Nobody wants to see your tits, Skywalker,” You say, keeping your eyes on the sky. He stinks, like sweat, beer, and cigarettes, but it’s a familiar smell; welcome, almost likable. Almost.

“Did you come over here just to creep on me?”

He lets out a low chuckle, taking another swig of his beer. "Why would I settle for a peek when I could be getting the full view?" He asks, eyes boldly raking over your nearly naked body. "Besides, I think we both know you like the attention. Why else put on a little show like this, hm?"

Setting his drink aside, he plops down on the grass beside the pool, letting his legs dangle in the cool water.

"Hot as balls out here. Hope you don’t mind." He glances over at you with a cocky grin.

You grimace as his feet contaminate the pool. Part of you wants to recoil, but the water feels too good, and you don’t want to give him an even better view of your body.

“Coming out here to cool off on this ‘hot as balls’ day is puttin’ on a show for you?” You scoff at him as you push your sunglasses on top of your head. He’s persistent, you can give him that. But irritating. What is it with old men that think being an asshole is attractive? Although, it did sort of work on Anakin…

"You’re right, maybe I'll have to show you a real wet t-shirt contest. Bet I can make my shirt cling better than those tiny triangles you're calling a top."

“If you wanna get in my pants old man, one-upping me ain’t gonna be the way to do it.” You press the ‘volume up’ button on your speaker, but his persistence knows no bounds.

"Old man?" He scoffs, sitting up to shoot you an indignant look. "I'll have you know I'm in my prime, sweetheart. And trust me, I don't need no cheap tricks to get in any girl's panties." He stands up and start stripping off his shirt, revealing his tattooed, muscular chest and arms.

Your jaw clenches at the sight of Anakin shirtless. His body is prime, and tattoos… were your weakness. But there was no way you were gonna let him know that.

He flashes you a wicked grin before diving into the shallow pool, still in his jeans. Water splashes everywhere, soaking you in the process.

Also, you had to remind yourself, he was still gross. Reminded to you by his gross words, and his obnoxious splashing, crashing your pool time.

"My bad," He responds to your grumbles of frustration with a shit-eating smirk, not sounding apologetic in the slightest.

"You gotta hell of a mouth on you, though, girl. Those talkin’ lips might get you in trouble," He teases as he settles into the water. "One wrong word and this 'old man' might just have to teach you some respect."

“Teach me some respect?” You let out a full, genuine laugh with your words as you reach behind you to the nearby table which held your own cigarettes. “Coming from the convict? Is that supposed to scare me?”

He narrows his eyes at you as you laugh, not finding his threat the least bit funny. "Convict? I've done my time. Last I checked, that makes me a changed man." He reaches out to snatch a cigarette from your hand, placing it between his own lips. "Besides, I think we both know you like a little danger. Why else would a classy girl like you be slumming it in a shithole like this?"

He lights the cigarette and takes a long drag, blowing the smoke in your direction with a smug smirk. "Face it, babygirl, you're drawn to me. The bad boy mystique, I get it. But I'm the one in control here. And right now, I wanna see more of that smokin’ hot body..." He grabs your wrist and yanks you closer to him in the pool.

You instinctively try to tug yourself away, but his grip is too strong. Being this close to him does things to you that you’d rather not come to terms with, but he forces you to.

“Jesus, you’re filthy!” You exclaim, and pray he doesn’t notice the way your thighs squeeze together below the water. “Gimme my cigarette,” You hiss, hoping to change the subject and ignore the rest of it all.

He leans in closer, face inches from yours as he takes another drag. "Filthy is kinda my thing, sweetheart," His blue eyes bore into yours, voice low and tempting. "And trust me, I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not watching."

Slowly, he brings the lit cigarette to your lush lips, tracing them teasingly. "Want a taste?" He purrs, pressing his body against yours in the cool water. "Or are you too much of a good girl to indulge in a little sin?"

You can’t help the way your chest heaves as your arousal grows, and what’s worse, you can’t avoid Anakin knowing, the small distance between you causing your tits to brush against his chest with every heavy breath. His words are dangerously persuasive, and his eyes only emphasize it all.

But you remember yourself, the good girl you are, the smart girl you are, and find a way around his teasing in more ways than one.

Your tongue slides out seductively, catches his eye, and the end of the cigarette. The wetness of your tongue allows you to pull it between your lips, steal a drag and blow it right back into his face. You slide it to the side of your mouth to speak, hoping your voice comes out stronger than it feels. “Don’t you already got a toy waitin’ to be attacked?”

"Oh I got plenty of toys," He smirks, undeterred as the smoke billows around you. "But you're a whole new level of fun, baby.”

His hands slide down to grope your ass, pulling your hips flush against his. You can feel his hardening length pressing against you through his soaked jeans. "Forget about my other girls. Right now, it's all about you and me," He growls, nipping at your ear. It’s disgusting, but it’s intoxicating, enough for you not to notice you were giving in.

Abruptly, he stands up, scooping you into his arms. "Let's take this inside where we can have some real fun, shall we?" He carries you towards your trailer, ignoring your protests. "Unless you'd rather I fuck you right here where everyone can watch..."

You let out a shaky exhale at his filthy suggestion of exhibition, and mentally curse yourself.

Your hands grip the sides of the trailer door, legs subconsciously tightly clung around his waist to keep yourself up. The two of you are dripping on the concrete steps, your nipples are hard and poking through the fabric of your bikini top, both due to the change of temperature and your arousal.

“My mom… she’s inside. She’ll beat your ass, Skywalker,” You say, still trying your best to resist, despite its growing futility. You won’t be one of those girls that Anakin Skywalker gets the best of so easily. Even if the feeling of his rising erection against your own sex is making your mind swim. “You’re older’n she is.”

"Pfft, your mom's a sweet lady. Barely a challenge," He laughs as he kicks the door open, strolling into the trailer with you still around his waist. The familiar scent of old newspapers and stale cooking greets you.

Anakin’s eyes roam the cluttered space, and spot your mother sitting in the only comfy chair. She looks up at the two of you, an eyebrow raised.

"Hey, Patty," He calls out, tossing you onto the only clear space on the couch without even bothering to look. "Got a little present for you."

She huffs and shakes her head, barely amused.

"Mind your manners, Anakin," she admonishes. He winks at her before striding over, topless and wet, settling onto the arm of her chair.

"Y’all got any vodka, Pats? I sure could use a shot to cool off," He asks, smirking over at you, his gaze hot and hungry, unphased by your mother relaxing right beside him.

Your shocked eyes shoot daggers in Anakin’s direction the whole time, pissed at the way he spoke to your mother so casually, pissed at his boldness, pissed at your mother for allowing it, and pissed at yourself for finding him so goddamn sexy for it. You let out an angry grumble under your breath, snatching a towel from the laundry piled beside you on the couch and wrapping it around yourself, finally somewhat shielded from his predatory gaze.

“‘Course we got vodka. Don’t waste my time asking me stupid questions, Skywalker.” Your mother snaps at him in that calm, motherly way, and now your infuriated gaze is aimed at her. Since when were they so friendly with each other?

“And that little present better be a fresh ounce of pot, not my half-naked daughter.” She drawls, practically paying him no mind, eyes set on the TV. That explains it.

“Anakin,” You cut before he can speak again, voice sharp. “Don’t you have a guest, and vodka in your own home?” You say, making your way to the kitchen to fix your own drink. You’d need it if this was how the rest of the day would go.

He chuckles at you, and turns back to your mother with a taunting smirk, "Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm fresh out. I'll make it up to ya though, promise."

Patty rolls her eyes, but Anakin can see the glint of amusement in them.

"Just ‘cause I'm her mama don’t mean I cain't recognize a lustful look when I see one," she addresses him, referring to her daughter. "You oughtta keep an eye on her, Ani. Seems like she can't stay away," She teases, puffing on her cigarette.

"Oh, I'm workin’ on it," He says, eyes meeting yours. There's a challenge in his voice, daring you to deny him—or worse, wanting you to.

You get the vodka and grab two glasses, pouring the clear liquid and watering it down. The ice clinks loudly as you return from the kitchen. Anakin watches your every move, his cock hardening again, the scent of your arousal lingering.

You set the drinks down on the cluttered coffee table, grabbing your drink and leaving Anakin to fetch his own. Your face grimaces when you notice what you’re pretty sure is an erection forming in his wet pants again. What an old creep. But you wonder what it looks like.

“Have fun with Patty, Anakin,” You tease, walking down the hall toward your bedroom with your drink.

Your mother shakes her head in amusement as Anakin follows you down the hall.

"Hey now, don't go teasin’ a grown man like that," He calls out, quickly grabbing his own drink and following you to your bedroom.

He leans against the doorframe, watching hungrily as you turn to face him. The vodka burns going down, fueling the fire in his veins and his eyes. "Why don’t you sit that purty little ass down on the bed and we’ll talk about why a good girl like you is looking at me like that," he takes a step closer.

The flush in your cheeks derives from a combination of frustration and arousal that’s gone on much too long, and you’d had about enough of. Anakin had a big mouth, but he was little more than a tease. You were barely more than half his age, and he seemed to be all bark and no bite, just having fun trying to get a rise out of the little girl in the trailer next door.

You down most of your vodka, the burning in your body beginning to mirror his. The sexual tension was palpable between you, but you were starting to think he didn’t really have the intention to quench it.

“Make me.”

A low growl escapes him at your defiance. With a sudden burst, he’s on you, crowding you against the closed door. "I'll make you, alright. I'll make you beg, babydoll," He promises, lips brushing against your ear.

Suddenly, he catches your mouth in a hungry kiss. His tongue dances with yours, seeking and finding entry to explore the depths of your mouth. His hand slides up under the towel to squeeze your breast, finger rolling over your nipple.

Anakin tastes like vodka, beer & cigarettes, so filthy, so deviant, so wonderfully intoxicating against your mouth. It’s hard to hold back your moans as his quick hand touches you, but you do your best, knowing your mother was only down the hall.

Your hand searches wildly behind you for the doorknob, the two of you bursting through the door and into the bedroom. You manage to break away from him and take a few steps back, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you take in the sight before you.

Those blue eyes, wrinkles formed at the corners, that evil smirk on his mouth, that muscular, tattooed chest still dripping from the pool, the erection straining against his pants. You set your glass down on the dresser and wonder how you ended up here, with this filthy, disgusting, irresistible old man standing in your bedroom, ready to wreck you, bikini bottoms growing sticky over it.

He stalks towards you, eyes burning with lust. "Still trying to play hard to get?" He backs you up until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. "I think we both know how badly you been wantin’ this."

His hands make quick work of your bikini top, tossing it aside to palm your soft breasts. The grin that rises across his face is almost sickening, like a devious child that had just opened a gift and found it filled with fireworks. The way it lights you up is sicker.

Leaning down, he runs his tongue over one pert nipple before drawing it into his mouth to suck hard, groaning at the taste of your skin. This time you can’t help a moan from breaking past your lips as his mouth assaults your breast.

His other hand slides into your bottoms, calloused fingers stroking your slick folds. “Fuck. You're wet as hell," He mumbles, more to himself than to you, pressing two fingers inside your tight heat.

You’re already seeing stars as his thick, expert fingers work their magic on you, roughly stroking every sensitive, gushy spot. Your hand rushes up to cover your mouth and hold back my pathetic sounds as you unravel.

His fingers thrust into your pussy, his thumb rubbing messily against your clit, ruthless in his pursuit of your pleasure. "Tell me you want this," he demands, nipping at your neck as his fingers work on your clit, steadily building your arousal. "Tell me you want Anakin Skywalker to fuck you into these sheets."

His cock strains so hard against his jeans, the sound of the denim creaks as it stretches under the weight. He wants to see you squirm and beg, desperate for his release, desperate for the release he promises to give you. The filthy, experienced older man teaching you the best sex of your young life.

You can’t resist anymore, not with his fingers inside you, driving you wild. Already he’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced; pleasure clouds your mind, makes you forget everything except how badly you want him.

You breathe heavily as you work up the words he demands, small whimpers leaving your throat as you try to speak. “A-Anakin,” a sharp exhale, then a gasp, then a whimper. “I want you.”

A slow, sinister smile spreads across his face as your needy plea reaches his ears. "That's what I like to hear, baby girl," He purrs, withdrawing his fingers and making quick work of his jeans and boxers. His cock springs free, hard and heavy, piercing glinting in the low light.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him. It’s a reaction you would’ve stifled if you were in your right mind, but had no capacity to hide right now. His cock was thick, and pierced, unequivocally like nothing you’d ever seen before. It seemed downright heavy. It was hypnotizing.

"Get on the bed and spread those legs," He commands, giving his cock a few pumps as he watches you. "Time to show ya what a real man feels like."

Unintentionally, you ignore his command, closing the distance between you and dropping to your knees before him. It’s even thicker up close, plain intimidating, but you can’t stop your tongue falling wide out of your mouth to taste him, painting the underside of his cock head with your drool.

He grunts as your tongue laps at his cock, one hand shooting down to twine in your hair. "Ah fuck, yeah," He sighs, helping your head bob on his dick. "Good girl, take it just like that, get it nice and wet for that tight little cunt."

The stretch in your jaw is substantial, and it turns you on to no end, struggling to take his thickness down. He tastes like metal and sweat and it’s so good.

The piercing catches on your bottom lip and he hisses in pleasure, grip tightening in your hair. "Goddamn, girl, that mouth is good. Gonna make me bust down your throat if you keep that up."

But he wants more. Needs to feel your cunt gripping him, sucking him in. With heavy reluctance, he pulls your head back and tugs you to your feet, all but throwing you on the bed.

"On your hands and knees, babydoll. Ass in the air," he demands, giving your ass a sharp smack. "Time to put that pussy to work."

You whimper at the sharp sting on your ass, shocked at the way it sends surges through you.

This time you obey his commands, turning onto your hands and knees, naturally arching your back in a way that draws Anakin in like a moth to a flame, giving him a prime view of your curves and holes, hearing him shudder and cuss behind you.

You bury your face in the mattress to conceal your whines at the coldness of his piercing teasing your clitoris as he slides the head of his cock through your wet folds, pussy clenching in anticipation of the stretch he was gonna give.

"Hope you're ready, baby, cause I ain’t gonna be gentle,” He warns, wrangling your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he pushes into your entrance.

With one hard thrust, he buries himself inside you, and the sound in the room is immediately obscene, your screeching into the mattress at the brutal stretch, his groaning and fussing over your tight heat, the rhythmic beat of his hips slapping against your ass.

"Take it, you lil’ tease. This is what you want, ain’t it? To be split open on my big cock?" He reaches around to fondle your tits, twisting and pinching your nipples as he rails you.

“Ahh, fuck!” You cry into the mattress, the magnificent assault on your cunt rapidly reeling you toward your orgasm. Anakin was incredible; huge, relentless, stretching you wide and filling you to the brim. He fucked you like he invented sex, metal of his piercing stimulating that sensitive spot deep inside you with each perfect snap of his hips.

He groans as your pussy clenches around him, grip on your hips tightening, undoubtedly leaving bruises. "Fuck, you feel good wrapped around my cock." He moans, thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his release. "Gonna fill this tight cunt up, make you fucking mine-” Not a promise, but a prayer. You can feel him getting close, twitching inside you, pounding into you faster and ramming into that deep, spongey spot.

His hand snakes down to rub tight circles on your clit, rapidly reeling you toward the edge. "Cum on my cock baby, let me feel you milk me," He commands, slamming into you one last time before he stills, grinding his hips against you with a deep growl, spilling rope after creamy rope of his seed deep inside you, forcing you hollering, trembling, & convulsing through your orgasm.

“Fuck, yeah,” you hear from behind you, a weak, high pitched moan escaping your throat as you feel the flood. The sensation quenches a deep thirst you’d waited too long to address.

Your poor cunt aches in the sweetest way as he pulls out, stings as he spreads your cheeks to gawk at his seed leaking from your hole.

"Look at that,” He drawls, slowly dragging his fingers through the mess and pushing it back inside. “So fucking hot.”

He gives your ass a wet kiss, jiggles the fat in his hand, and then flips you over onto your back, settling between your legs. "Think you can handle round two, little girl?" He asks, cock already hardening again at the sight of you debauched on the sheets beneath him, cum painting your thighs.

The feeling of Anakin’s cock hardening on your stomach makes your heart rate pick back up. It’s a little frightening: wasn’t it unusual for any man, let alone a man of his age, to snap back so quickly?

In your short moment of lucidity, you begin to worry. Anakin had fucked you without a condom, cum inside you, and now dared to do it again. The last thing this man needed was to knock up some young girl, and the last thing you needed was to be knocked up by the seedy old man in the trailer next to yours, but that’s right where y’all were headed.

But your brain is wiped when his hand wraps around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your pulse jump, and you’ve lost the will to care all over again. Filled with his cum, threat of having this scrub’s baby over your head, and you don’t care. Poor cunt pathetically swollen and throbbing from the first round, but you don’t care. You want him again and again.

You can’t muster the words, all good sense fucked right out of you, so instead you look deep into his beautiful blues and nod with a pleading look in your own eyes.

He grins wickedly, cock twitching against your stomach at your agreement. "I knew you’d be a good one," He praises, positioning himself at your entrance once more. With a gentle push of his hips, he’s sinking back into your pussy, groaning at the feeling of his cum squelching around his shaft.

His lips find your neck, biting and sucking as he finds a pace, headboard slamming against the wall with each powerful thrust. "Gonna ruin this little pussy," He swears, hand tightening around your throat.

"Gonna make you mine, fuck, my own personal little cocksleeve."

His hand on your throat heightens your pleasure and leaves you seeing stars, both from the pleasure and the constriction on your oxygen. The new position allows you to see him, that beautiful face, his robust body, the way his abs flex as his hips snap into yours. From this position he can see your tits bounce as he pounds into you, the way your eyes roll back as the waves of pleasure crash over you.

Anakin slides in and out of your cunt with ease, thrusts lubed with his lingering cum spilling around you. It’s obscene, but so, so good.

“Ah, Ani,” your legs wrap tight around his waist, hold him deep inside you, nails dig into his back. “F-fuck you feel so good,” you gasp.

"Fuck yes, take it, take my cock like the good little slut you are.”

He releases your throat to grab your hips, angling them up to hit that sweet spot inside you with each pass. "Gonna fill this pussy up over and over, make sure my cum takes. You'll be swollen with my seed, doll. Round with my baby. Fuck, the thought of you, all knocked up, tits leaking, begging for more..."

He can feel his release building, balls drawing up tight, full and heavy with another load.

The flood of air, his filthy fantasies, his fucking expert cock driving into your raw, freshly-fucked cunt with otherworldly precision leaves your ears ringing as your orgasm rips through you. The entire world fades into black, tears prick at your eyes, electric contractions take over your whole being. And when you come back to the light, you’re begging.

“Fuck, Ani,” You squeak, “Please, please, please, cum inside me,” You plead, hijacked by a sudden desperation for the older man’s baby.

His eyes darken at your desperate plea, teeth grit as he feels his own orgasm ready to burst. "Fuck yes, gonna pump you full of my cum, make you fucking drip with it," He pants, hips stuttering as he erupts. "Fucking take it, take it all, just like that," He rambles, grinding his hips as he empties himself inside you.

Finally spent, he collapses on top of you, cock still twitching in your heat.

Your legs are shaking, pussy clenching at the aftershocks, overflowing your shared fluids. Your vision is blurry, throat parched, completely and positively wrecked. Strained sighs echo out of you, chest rising and falling heavily, pressing your bare breasts into his chest.

He presses sloppy kisses along your neck, your collarbone, tasting the sweat on your skin. "Goddamn, baby girl, that was intense.” He sighs.

“You’re tellin’ me,” You breathe out. “I can barely see.” You confess with a lazy smile, still yet to fully come back to your mind. You let out a pained sigh as you try to adjust under his weight, needing to stretch and soothe your sore limbs.

With a grunt, he rolls off of you, cock slipping from your abused hole with a wet sound.

"You did good, baby. Took my cock like a champ," He praises, running his fingers over your hair. "But don't think we're done yet. As soon as I'm hard again, I'm gonna flip you over and take you from behind. Fuck you so hard you forget your own name."

He leans in, eyes carefully observing you, and captures your lips in a filthy kiss.

"Gonna keep you in this bed all fucking night.”

You let out a heavy breath as you adjust to lay on your side, facing Anakin, placing a hand over his colorful chest. “I don’t know how you do it, old man. Even most men my age can barely cum twice, let alone be waiting for the next round after that,” You laugh, eyes lit up bright in your post-orgasm glow.

Anakin laughs too, and it’s nice. Unlike his usual laughter, snide and sarcastic, but honest.

His hand finds your ass and gives it a firm squeeze. "Years of practice, sweetheart.” In truth, the thought of you, young and eager, so responsive to his touch, is enough to keep him hard and ready. "Besides, I got a lot of lost time to make up for. Gotta make sure I ruin you properly, make it so no other man can ever satisfy you like I can."

He rolls on top of you once more, half-hard cock nestling against your thigh, resuming the feather-light kisses on your neck. "Ready for round three, baby girl? Gonna fuck this pussy so good, you'll be feeling me for weeks.”

The sound you let out is a mix of a sigh, a laugh, a moan, demonstrating your blissful exhaustion. “I don’t think I can take another round, Skywalker. I’m swollen enough as is.” You grip his biceps, resisting the urge to take his cock in your hand. He’s too fun to play with, but you can’t take the risk of turning him all the way on again, not when your cunt was already beginning to ache.

He groans at your rejection, cock jumping against your thigh. "You sure, doll? I'm not nearly done with this sweet little cunt," He mumbles pitifully into your neck.

But he can hear the exhaustion in your voice, feel the way your body trembles beneath him. Reluctantly, he rolls off of you, propping himself up on his elbow. "Alright, baby girl, you win. But don't think for a second that this is over. I'll have you again soon enough."

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss, tongue lazily tangling with yours.

You moan into his mouth, gripping his bicep to ground yourself. One of your legs lifts to drape across his hips, pulling yourself in close to him. You were beginning to like the feeling of being held in his arms. It was ironic how such a dangerous, predatory man had managed to make you feel so safe.

You pull away to speak, eyes falling to the mattress. “I don’t really want you to go yet,” You admit quietly. You fought him for a long while, and now, like a stupid little girl, you didn’t want to let go.

He smiles at your confession, hand running soothing patterns on your back. "Didn't think you would, baby girl.”

Carefully, he gathers you into his arms, rolling onto his back and pulling you to lie on his chest. "Rest for a bit. Let me hold you," He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. It's a rare moment of tenderness from him, but something about you brings it out.

You crane your neck up to look at Anakin from where you lie on his chest.

With the late afternoon light peeking through the window, his eyes are illuminated. He’s breathtaking, showcasing the experienced he’d gained over the years, but also maintaining his youth. You still hardly knew the man, up until now he’d only been your annoying neighbor, but… He wasn’t as bad as you thought. Sweet, even. It made your heart melt. Who knew Anakin Skywalker was like this behind closed doors?

You reach over him to the nightstand to grab a cigarette. As the buzz envelopes your brain and my body, you sink into Anakin’s arms without a care in the world, kissing the colors dancing across his chest. Let this old man wreck you.

He watches you through heavy-lidded eyes, taking in the sight of your curves, the sheen of sweat on your skin. You look thoroughly fucked out, debauched, and it's a sight he could get used to.

His fingers trace idle patterns on your back as you relax against him. He kisses your head again, repeating the uncanny, saccharine gesture, breathing in the scent of sex and nicotine.

Your brain reminds you of something Anakin had said earlier, in the midst of his pursuit.

“D’you really think I’m living here for fun? Cause I like danger and bad boys?” You ask him with a laugh, voice thick, low, seductive with your exhaustion.

Anakin chuckles, sound rumbling through his chest. "Baby, I don't care why you're here. All that matters is that you are," he says, a hand sliding down to grab your ass. "Couldn't ask for a better view’n watchin’ you prance around in them tiny little bikinis.”

He sucks in a breath through his teeth as he grips you, jiggles you, pulls you closer. “Fuck, the things I’ve imagined doing to you…”

A small smile tugs at your lips, as a mixture of excitement, but also disappointment, courses through you at his words. You didn’t really expect him to actually care but… you didn’t think he’d be that blatant about it, fresh after fucking you. He doesn’t actually think about you, he doesn’t actually want to know you. You were a toy to him. And it… hurt. And you didn’t know what to make of that, yet. Where once there was a warmth fueled by laying beside him, there quickly became an emptiness.

You had to remind yourself Anakin was no good, he’d probably make a terrible partner realistically, and you knew this. But it never feels good to be actually sexually objectified. Although, objectively…. having sex with Anakin felt really good.

Here, with Anakin, lay the newest dilemma in your mind, body, and soul.

“I’m sure you’ve imagined more than enough to keep me busy,” You say as you start to sit up, giving Anakin a long kiss on the cheek, before clearing your throat. “I should really get cleaned up.”

He frowns, hand tightening reflexively on your hip. "Stay," he urges, almost angrily, in a tone that makes your heart freeze, ready to jump into fight or flight, waiting for the moment his characteristic sourness is turned toward you.

But Anakin just doesn’t like the feeling of you leaving, even if it's just to the bathroom.

But he notices the distant look in your eyes, the way you're already pulling away from him emotionally.

Fuck, he thinks. I should've known it was too good to be true, that a girl like you wouldn't stick around for a washed-up old ex-con like me.

He calls your name, voice softer than he’d ever heard it himself. "Don't go. Stay with me, just a little longer."

Your eyebrows knit together as Anakin’s soft tone takes you off guard, the way he nearly pleads with you to stay. It’s uncanny, but the way it makes your heart ache is even worse. He was starting to be a true mystery. “Um, okay,” you whisper, somewhat softening back into his side, heart still racing as you toe the line between danger and safety, dangerously thin in Anakin’s presence.

Still marinating in your confusion, something makes you take his arm and pull it close over you, gently stroking his skin. It was as if something reached out & told you he needed the comfort.

You lay there together for a while, holding each other in silence, feeling each other out. It’s nice, being in the arms of a strong, older man. Especially Anakin’s. You find solace there, you have to admit. You think he must have, too. You had to practically tear him off you and throw him out the door to get him to go home.

And as soon as the door shut behind him, you were wrecked, like a piece of your heart had walked out with him. But you held it together. Anakin was surely not the kind of man who wanted a little girl clinging to him every minute. You would be patient until you saw him again.

The door clicks shut behind me as I step out into the fading evening light. I can still feel the lingering warmth of your skin on mine, the soft curves of your body imprinted on my memory. Fuck, I didn't want to leave. Didn't want to let you go.

But I knew I had to. Couldn't let myself get too attached, too vulnerable. You were a kid, barely more than a baby, and I was a fucking mess. A criminal, a drunk, a man with a past so dark it would break you if you knew the half of it.

So I forced myself to walk away, each step an act of willpower I didn't have.

[jeonride]

even on my last birthday

SUMMARY; in which, you decided to have a tattoo on your shoulder as his birthday gift. and wonwoo loved it as much as he wanted to grow old with you.

FEATURING; wonwoo x afab!reader

GENRE; fluff, established relationship, office romance au, manager!wonwoo x secretary afab!reader, non-idol au, Seokmin mentioned as a cameo, smut (MINORS DNI)

WARNINGS; dacryphilia, dollification, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, praises, use of pet names, mentions of food & eating, mentions of cheating, mentions of tattoos, and being tattoed.

WORD COUNT; 5 K

NOTES FROM KALA; i know his birthday has passed A MONTH ago but well- i have this on my draft for too long so i decided to post this as my 800 folls celebration! (and also, this was my first fic ever). enjoy! <33

inspired by song; last birthday by valley

jeonride's masterlist / join the taglist here !

The 17th of July.

The man named Jeon Wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows when he saw the date on his calendar. Today was his birthday, but unfortunately, he forgot about it. Eventually, that was the reason why his fingers keep flipping through the pages of his agenda book.

"Meeting? Dinner with colleagues?" he murmured. But it was already 07.00 pm and all employees in the office already went home. Remaining himself in his personal workspace, Seokmin- the head of the division that has to work overtime because of the additional work from him, and the janitor who was still passing by.

Soon, the sound of three knocks on his workspace door filled Wonwoo's hearing. He looked up while adjusting his glasses. Said, "Come in." in a voice too low, but still loud to be heard. After that his head was back down, still looking for what was on the agenda on the 17th of July, not realizing who entered his room.

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you.”

The soft singing of 'happy birthday' filled his ears. Wonwoo clearly knew who it was. His face lit up as he looked at you - his fiancé, looking gorgeous, wearing a black backless dress while holding a chocolate-flavored birthday cake, Wonwoo's favorite since childhood.

Wonwoo reflexively gasped, his expression one of surprise. He couldn't believe that July 17th was his birthday. The number 27 candles glowed on the cake's surface.

You walked closer to him, and Wonwoo took the initiative to get up from his chair, heading towards you. Your smile was fixed, looking so sweet that Wonwoo felt that your smile alone can relieve his burden for the whole day.

“Happy Birthday, Schatzi.” With that, you reached the end of the song. Wonwoo smiled at the petname, schatzi. It was from your favorite novel that you read to him. Where the main character called her lover schatzi.

You watched how Wonwoo closed his eyes immediately, as he clasped his hands together. His mouth chanted wishes, containing all the good things in the world for him, his family, and especially you. Then he opened his eyes again, with his cheeks puffed up with air- blowing out the number 27 candles. You cheered, happy and assuring whatever Wonwoo wished for.

Your face moved closer to him, planting a soft, affectionate kiss on his pink lips. “I wish you health, wealth, and a happy life with me as your wife.” You whispered between the kiss, his minty breath was fanning your lips.

Then slowly his lips formed a smile before he let out a small laugh at your words just now. His two sturdy hands pulled your waist to get closer. “Thank you, love.” He replied. “I even forgot my birthday. Glad you came to celebrate it.”

He caressed your cheek, “You’re the one who always remembers anything about me.”

You rolled your eyes at his words, chuckling. “So stop being careless with everything around you.”

"Can’t help it, I know what’s my priority."

“So our wedding isn’t on your priority list?”

Wonwoo's gaze at you became softened. his forefinger moved to ruffle your hair, tucking the strands behind your ear adorned with a glittering earring. ”You know that’s not how it works, darling.” He pinched your cheek. “I care for you. I care for us.”

“Then come with me. I'm tired of taking care of everything by myself. It's also tiring to deal with people who keep asking where is the groom? Why he isn’t with you?”

Your words made Wonwoo laugh. "I'm sorry, I'm really busy these days. I'm focusing on getting promoted so that our family in the future can live comfortably."

You nodded, understood about it. You knew you couldn’t complain when the only thing he wanted was your happiness and the comfort of the two of you when you finally get married and live with him. Jeon Wonwoo had always been mature, all the problems regarding the future of the two of you had been planned very well. You were lucky because you managed to become a woman who won his heart, since two years ago.

You put Wonwoo's birthday cake on his desk and smiled as you saw the sign that read 'Mr. Wonwoo Jeon, Manager' prominently displayed in front of his desk.

“When will you be promoted to CEO?”

Wonwoo shook his head, “I don't know yet. Hopefully, it will be sooner. Wish me luck, okay?"

You nodded softly, “But I want to be your secretary.”

"Your father will be angry if I take his secretary." Wonwoo's mischievous expression appeared. He knew you craved to be his secretary so badly. Well, who didn’t? You bet every woman in the office wanted just the same, to be working in front of his desk and take a glance at his face while he was busy working and typing. What a sight to see in the middle of a tiring day in the office.

“Well, I’m sure he will understand if you’re the one who takes me away from him. You knew he was cheating with his secretary.” You sighed. Still hurt a little every time you remember about it. “I don’t want that kind of thing to happen again in my life.”

Wonwoo's gaze seemed to be as sympathetic, also he felt bad for making you feel sad by telling him about the problem that happened in your family in the past.

“Love, I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s fine. They’re all fine, now. As you can see.”

Wonwoo reached out to hold your hand and embodied kisses to the knuckles of your fingers before kissing the engagement ring.

“I want to spend my days with you.”

You chuckled immediately at his sudden confession. “What? It’s rare for you to say that kind of stuff.” And Wonwoo could feel his cheeks heat up.

“I mean- you said you want to be my secretary and I’ll happily have you as my secretary through my whole career.” He seemed a little shy about it. You couldn’t help but smile, then run your fingers to stroke his hair that was still gelled. He changed the topic to, “Let’s eat the cake.” to divert his shyness.

Okay. You agreed, didn’t want to tease him because you knew, things would turn upside down very quickly. You will feel so small in his presence as he reciprocated your teasing with intimidating domination. And nonetheless, your stomach felt hungry because you haven't had dinner yet either. The chocolate cake you gave looked really good but of course, you felt bad to eat the cake. It should be Wonwoo who takes it first. 

“Wait, the knife’s in my bag.”  You turned around, heading for the chair in front of Wonwoo’s desk where you had carelessly placed your sling bag because you felt uncomfortable wearing it. That's when, Wonwoo got full access to stare at your bare back, where your right shoulder was reddish in color and a new tattoo was clearly imprinted there. His lips formed a smile in a second. He liked what he saw. Then his strong hands pulled your waist, successfully making your body land in his lap.  

Wonwoo noticed you were surprised, and you wanted to protest because you intended to get the knife in the bag. But Wonwoo just couldn't resist his curiosity about your new tattoo. He blew gently on the surface of your shoulder, making you feel goosebumps. Wonwoo grinned as he noticed your body started to stiffen just from his warm breath. 

“What’s this?” his voice lowered, as his fore finger pointed at your shoulder which was adorned with a tattoo of water lily, his birth flower. ”Water lily?”

Your breath hitched at his touch. “Yes, water lily. Your birth flower."

 “I know, doll.” He chuckled. "It's just..." A second after he was approaching to your bare shoulder again, he returned to blowing his warm breath while giving a few kisses at your new tattoo, then licking it in the most sensual way. "Love it. Fucking in love with this beautiful water lily tattooed on your skin."

Your smile got wider as he praised you. You felt an explosion of happiness in your chest because it took a lot of effort to have a tattoo. But because Wonwoo had one, you also got the feeling to have a tattoo as his birthday gift, thinking he would like it and glad he did.

"Is this my birthday gift?" he asked lowly, right into your ear. You could sense that he was smiling.

You nodded softly, as you were his good girl. "Yes, all for you."

"Oh, doll." he cooed. He kissed your tattoo once again, but this time with his mouth opened, spreading wet kisses across your bare shoulder. You could feel how his saliva made the surface wet. You started to tense up at the pet name, doll.

And the way he gave you open-mouthed kisses, it tickled you. But also sent shivers down your spine. You squirmed under the slightest touch of his lips.

"My doll, being so pretty for me."

You whimpered, those words that slipped away from a-very-fucking-handsome-man-named-Jeon-Wonwoo made your cunt dripping with your own arousal. He knew for sure his words would do something to your body. His lips formed a light grin.

Your breath caught again when Wonwoo landed his big hands on your thighs. his movements were slow, but sure and made you shiver. Wonwoo lifted your black dress slowly. From your knees, then up to your upper thighs. Exposing your skin that felt so soft under the touch of his cold hands. He did all that while whispering, "My precious doll, all for me."

"Wonwoo-" you released a whimper, moving uncomfortably as you feel Wonwoo's hardening cock on your ass.

You started to stutter, "I'm starving. You know, not because I want to eat you- but because the cake I bought for you looks so delicious."

Wonwoo who heard your words laughed. Instantly his lustful urges were restrained for a moment, because then he could actually hear your stomach rumbling, demanding to be filled.

The man embraced your body, manhandling, also flexing how strong his arms were. he turned your body position to face him. He wanted to see the sparkle in your eyes that looked exactly like a doll.

Oh, you were really such a doll in his eyes. With lips that looked so soft and your rosy cheeks because you were embarrassed by feeling hungry at this kind of moment.

"My poor babydoll." he cooed. "How long have you been hungry?"

"Please-" you unconsciously begged. Didn't know where you got the idea. Making Wonwoo's left eyebrow raised in curiosity, "Please what, doll? I don't understand."

"I-" you pointed at the chocolate cake you brought earlier, untouched. "Please let me eat the cake first, i know it's yours i bought it for you but can you please let me eat it?"

Wonwoo's chest warmed up, to him his fiancée's behavior now was so cute and adorable. It made him admire your face more than in the past days.

"So polite." he praised. "I've really taught you to beg well."

Your cheeks heated up, and you decided to look away but Wonwoo's forefinger immediately grabbed your chin, forcing you to look back at him. "Look at me. I said that you have to be confident in front of me."

You gulped. "Okay. Okay. Understood. I just feel kinda embarrassed.. you know."

"It's normal, baby. I'm fine with your stomach rumbling, it's cute tho." he laughed again. And before you hit his arm, he continued with, "Alright, alright. I'm going to feed you, don't you worry."

You nod enthusiastically as Wonwoo grabbed up your bag, took out a cake knife from inside, and started to cut the cake in pieces that you liked, not too thick and not too thin. He really remembered everything about you well, especially when it came to serving food.

Wonwoo smiled too when he saw your face so beamed. His heart melted every time you smiled, even though he never expressed it verbally. He expressed that he loved you through his actions, by covering you with his expensive black coat when it rained, clutching your waist tightly when the train was crowded with people, helping you with chores and cleaning the apartment, and also doing aftercare with care and tenderness. You were grateful that you were loved by a man like him.

You, on the other hand, were ready to open your mouth. Thinking Wonwoo was going to feed you. But as it turned out, he was stuffing pieces of cake into his own mouth, making you frown at the sight.

"Woo, i said i'm sta-"

And Wonwoo, interrupted you with a soft kiss. The chocolate cream on Wonwoo's lips felt on your senses, making you move to suck his lips harder and rougher, also demanding. Successfully making Wonwoo's stomach tingle, as if butterfly wings were fluttering in it until he chuckles in a low voice between the kiss.

Wonwoo thought you must be really starving by now, so starving that you've lost control of yourself. You were starving for food, also starving for Wonwoo's touch.

So Wonwoo didn't want to tease any further. He chose to open his mouth, and you followed along. Wonwoo's tongue placed a piece of cake on the surface of your tongue, so the piece of cake that was previously in his mouth moved into your mouth. That was Wonwoo's way, of feeding you. And you didn't mind.

Wonwoo moved away for a moment, giving you time to munch on his birthday cake.

"How is it?" Wonwoo asked as his thumb wiped away the chocolate cream stain at the corner of your lips.

"Sweet." you didn't reply much. You were busy chewing and marveling at the taste of the cake. So sweet and soft on the tongue, it's appetizing. You think you could even finish the whole cake by yourself.

"Still starving?" he asked.

"I amm. Please just keep going,"

"I don't understand. Clear instruction only, doll."

You sighed. He was such a tease. Loved to hear your filthy thoughts out loud. "Please feed me, with your mouth. Want to taste the chocolate cream from your lips."

Wonwoo seemed satisfied by your words. It was fun to hear you begged to him. Reminding him to who you belong- and it was always him. Also felt like a booster for Wonwoo. Your begs feed his ego and it sparked a fire inside his chest.

So he continued to feed you the chocolate cake from his mouth, you let out soft hums in approval every time you taste the sweet cream all over your tongue. He held the back of your neck, wanting to kiss you deeper while you were sucking his lip clean from the chocolate cake. Slowly, the 'feeding you his birthday cake' session became breathless, and Wonwoo didn't even give you time to munch the cake slice. He was more than ready to devour all of you, to be drunk in a hot kissing session while you were still trying to eat his cake properly.

"Woo-" you whined. "Can't keep up."

"That's okay, doll. Slowly."

And how could you slow the movement of your kiss when all he did was kiss you and moan into your mouth lustily when you accidentally gave friction to his boner? Even the way of his breathing started to be shaky. You knew he needed more of you.

He slowly placed his two fingers on your lower lip. Staring at your puffy lips that were glistening with saliva. His stare was getting darker as he watched how your chest breathing up and down heavily, how your cheeks turned all red, and the way you were staring back at him with doe eyes, he could feel his cock twitching down there.

"Suck," he commanded.

You did as he asked, put his two fingers in your mouth. Sucking his fingers and licking the fingertips teasingly. Wonwoo found himself couldn't breathe properly, he even swallowed hard his own saliva while managing to keep the eye-contact with you. The warmth of your mouth made him unfocused, and how you made his fingers wet with your saliva. Lowkey imagining his other body part to be sucked and licked by you like this.

"You're getting so much better at sucking my fingers, doll."

Your reply came out mumbled, but Wonwoo caught your words perfectly, all while he was tilting his head to read your mouth. "Getting better because of me?"

You nodded swiftly, as Wonwoo starts to move his two fingers inside your mouth, he slowly moved them back and forth, in and out. You focused on sucking his fingers without breaking eye contact with him, which makes the air in Wonwoo's personal workspace even hotter and more stifling. Wonwoo nimbly untied the tie around his neck, making him feel like he was suffocating. You wanted to help him untie the tie, but he shook his head lightly while smiling weakly. As if he were signaling, 'you don't have to do anything besides sucking my fingers like a good girl.'

Wonwoo also moved his waist, grinding against your clothed cunt. The low moan he released made the inside of your body burning. Wonwoo sped up his hand movements, eager to make you choke on just two of his fingers. There was always a sense of pride every time he managed to make you choke and cry. Oh, Wonwoo loved to see how your doe eyes flow crystal clear tears. He would happily kisses every drop of your tears or even, licks them.

Wonwoo noticed how your saliva was rolling down his knuckles, and it made your cheeks even redder just because a stare full of lust from his eyes. His fingers moved in and out even faster, impatient to see you choke. You yourself didn't realize what Wonwoo was trying to do. Until a few moments later, you choked because his fingers hit the tip of your throat. Your tears were immediately melting, running down your cheeks, smearing the mascara you're wearing.

"Oh, doll." he teased. "Did I hurt you?" he asked with such a fake innocence. Because in the end, he grinned triumphantly as your tears even began to fall down your chin. Wonwoo quickly kissed away each and every teardrop visible to his peripheral.

Wonwoo has already picked up the tissues on his desk when you finally realize what he was been trying to do. You felt a little annoyed, and punched him lightly on the shoulder, yet Wonwoo just laughed as he slowly wiped away your tears with the tissue, simultaneously cleaning the stains from your smudged mascara.

"I'm sorry, doll. But you look so pretty when you cry..." his voice that was already low, dropped another octave. Wonwoo's hands rubbed your sides this time, you could feel how cold his hands were. Wonwoo did have cold hands, which can always put you back in control of yourself, regardless of how hot your body was right now. He was even good at calming you down when anger got the best of you with the gentle strokes of his cold hands on your shoulder.

"Mean. So you like to see me cry, huh?" you acted as you were annoyed, while your hand sneakily making its way to the belt Wonwoo was wearing. The black leather belt that he always used to wear to office.

But Wonwoo of course could sense the gentle touch of your hand on his belt. "Ah, ah." he reprimanded. "I still have things to do, we can't do it right now, doll."

"You must be kidding me. You already worked 11 hours already, Woo! How come there are still a lot things to do?" you weren't angry toward him, though. You were just worried. Yet his facial expression changed when you rised your tone a little bit higher in front of him.

"Did you just yell at me, doll?" His grip on your waist tighten, more firm. As if he were expressing that he didn't like what you just did.

"I didn't, Woo. I was just worried about your health. I'm sorry,"

"You're worrying about me?"

"Of course! You always work like there's no tomorrow to finish your assignment."

He chuckled, "Sweet doll, worrying about me." then played with your hair softly. "If you said so, guess I'll take a few minutes' break from now on. Let's just do something, anything fun on your mind?"

Oh, it was the way of him asking anything fun on your mind? when his hand traveled up to your panties, toying with the waistband. He knew what he was doing, and yet his eyes gleamed like pure innocence even though his lips couldn't hold the urge to smirk. How could someone manage to look like that on the same time?

His face continued to move closer, then his pink lips kissed your jawline, all while his forefinger started to rub on your clit. You bit your lip, didn't want to release any whimper or soft moans but Wonwoo made it harder, his other free hand now gently squeezing your breast. Now his kisses going down, to the crook of your neck. Kissing, licking, and marking. He didn't care about your neck being full of hickeys. He planned to cover you with his expensive black coat on the way to the parking lot, though.

You were stammering and found it difficult to speak. "Wonwoo, stop—"

"And why do I have to stop?"

"Because you said you're busy! If you're just teasing me right now, then please, stop."

He shrugged. "Well, I am busy. But I didn't mean it until the moment I can't have fun with you."

And with that, your hand was going back again to his belt. Urging him to do the thing that you already had in mind for thirty minutes now. "Then open this,"

Wonwoo laughed, this time with his eyes beautifully closed. His hand then grabbed yours, gently removing it from his belt. "But I also said that I only take a break for a few minutes, doll. This won't do only in ten or twenty minutes, right?"

You surrendered, nodding limply. Wonwoo just smiled as he realized how disappointed you were that you won't be fucked anytime soon. "We can still have fun, doll. Don't be pouty like that," his finger played with the corner of your lips that were indeed, pouting.

"But I want to ride you..." You said in a half-whisper, still feeling the embarrassment in your chest to say it out loud.

Wonwoo had no problem with you speaking in a half-whisper whenever you were feeling shy. He took the opportunity to bring his face closer to your lips and to look closely at your blushing face. "Yeah? You want to ride me?"

You nodded shyly, fingers toying with the button of his shirt.

"Ride me, then." Wonwoo invited, giving permission. And your eyes widened at his words. Oh, this is going to be a dry-humping session, then. You were a bit uncertain about Wonwoo's decision this time. Because usually, he wouldn't get enough of just rubbing his hardening cock against your clothed cunt. He was a bit insatiable. You both had done a challenge where there was to be no intercourse during the movie-watching session together. It became a soft dry humping session, where Wonwoo whispered words of affirmation and validated you, how perfect you were for him. But still, eventually, he felt it was not enough and you end up having sex with him in the middle of the movie.

Wonwoo's hands were ready to hold both sides of your waist, and then he moved your waist back and forth, urging you to ride him. All while when he was spreading his legs so that the hardening cock on his pants can be felt on your clit which is still wrapped in panties. "Now ride me, doll."

You got closer to Wonwoo's body, and he kissed your forehead softly. Embracing your body with his warmth, with all his love that overflows for you. You wrapped your hands around Wonwoo's neck and started rubbing your clit against his cock. He felt so hard, and you could feel the way his cock rubbed against your cunt perfectly even though you both still had pants on. You let out sighs and moans, and Wonwoo responded by gently stroking your bare back, then saying, "I got you, doll. I got you."

"Wonwoo-" Your breath got caught in your throat. "Feels so good-"

Wonwoo mumbled in reply, his hand wiping at the trail of sweat that was on your forehead. "Want me to help you?"

Then he helped you by pounding his hips hard, sending tingling sensations all over your body through the hard friction from his erection. Wonwoo watched how your mouth opened, your eyes shut, and your rosy lips let out a sigh of the pleasure Wonwoo gave you.

The air around you felt hotter and you felt dizzy from the stimulant Wonwoo was giving you between your legs. Your hips were also constantly moving, back and forth, seeking more friction from Wonwoo's boner. And that action earned a low grunt from Wonwoo, he complimented how good you were at making him feel like he was up in the clouds. "Just like that, doll. Oh, fuck."

Wonwoo's right hand pinched your hardened nipple, because your breasts kept bouncing in front of his eyes, activating the desire inside his mind to grab your breasts and squeeze them roughly until a high-pitched moan was released from your pretty mouth. "Ah, Wonwoo!" You were no longer care to hold back your moans even though you know, your voice might be heard from outside of his personal workspace.

Wonwoo didn't think about that either, focusing on pursuing his pleasure. And when Wonwoo's long fingers played with your nipples, twisting, and then pinching them, you started to cry. The stimulants that he gave to you were too much. Tears formed in both of your eyes, like the clear lakes Wonwoo would dive into.

You always looked so enthralling to him, even when you were crying. Oh, he was even proud when the pleasure he brought to your body could make you cry and call his name as if Wonwoo's name was the only thing you knew because you don't get exhausted of saying it over and over between your moans and whimpers. As if his name was a spell that could make Wonwoo do more to satisfy you.

Wonwoo knew you were close, from the way your chest rose then fell, and the way your breathing got heavier. Your moans sounded louder and 'noisier' when you felt your orgasm was coming, Wonwoo already knew that attitude of yours. His eyes stared at your face with lust. Your expression that was full of pleasure made his cock twitch in his office pants which felt tighter now.

"Are you close, doll? I'm-" Wonwoo couldn't finish his sentence because you hid your face in the crook of his neck, biting the most sensitive area of ​​Jeon Wonwoo which of course no one else knew but you. Wonwoo's grip on your waist tightened, while your own hands pulled Wonwoo's hair, messing with his hair and he didn't mind that at all.

"Doll, fuck-" his breath hitched as you were sucking on the sensitive area of ​​his neck. "My babydoll, I want you to always be mine," he whispered between his heavy breaths, sending butterflies to your stomach as you felt the familiar knot on your abdomen.

"I'm yours, Wonwoo. Always yours to take," you replied, and your tone became softer. Then you looked up at him, only to stare at his face, and found the explosion of affection for you from his dark brown eyes.

He cradled your cheek, and you leaned in for his touch while chasing your orgasm. "Feel like you're about to cum, doll?"

You whined and gave him a nod as an answer while bouncing on his erection even harder and faster. He groaned, "You like this, aren't you? I can tell you're so close, doll."

Wonwoo was right. Soon, your orgasm hit so hard, that was even dripping out to your inner thighs. Your panties were all soaked, and Wonwoo's office pants also got wet because of your orgasm. Wonwoo grunted at the sight of it, and he came right after you with his mouth hung open, calling your name in the deepest tone of his voice that made you shiver.

You were trying to calm yourself down, and so did Wonwoo. His way of breathing slowly got calmer when you gave some soft squeezes on his shoulder. He looked down at you, smiling, with his heart bursting out of love for you. He kissed your forehead, while gently stroking your hair. "Thank you, y/n."

You flashed a smile at him. "You are welcome and once again, happy birthday my love."

His face beamed at your words. He was so happy to have his 27th birthday spent with you. And he was hoping, deep down in his heart, you would always be there, be the one who always remember his birthday and will not get bored to spare him some of your time just to be with him on his birthday night. He would love to always age up with you beside him, to always have you sing him 'Happy Birthday to you with your angelic voice.

He would love to grow old with you.

"I'd love to turn one year older with you in my arms, love. Please always be by my side, even on my last birthday."

© jeonride 2023. please do not copy, translate, plagiarize, or repost any of my writing anywhere ! all rights reserved. pretty divider by @benkeibear !

[thecapricunt1616]

Pearls - (c.b. one-shot)

𝓢𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓹𝓮𝓽 (𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 𝓑𝓣𝓒): “Baby! Happy birthday- I’m sorry I musta woke you” he comes over, hugging you to his chest and kissing the top of your head “I got coffee all ready for you” he said and led you over to your usual spot at the island and setting down your mug, pouring you a cup and grabbing your favorite creamer from the fridge. It was creamer he made for you, fresh toasted hazelnuts and Indian vanilla beans that he made sure to take a few home whenever the restaurant got them imported. 

♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pearls are associated with feminine energy, intuition, and nurturing qualities. Some say they can enhance a woman's natural grace and elegance, and connect her with her inner femininity. Also, In many traditions, pearls symbolize love, wisdom, and inner beauty. They are often exchanged as gifts to express deep affection and admiration. ♡ Summary: It's your birthday, and your man pulls out every stop to show you just how much he loves & worships you in every way. ♡ W/C: 4,600 ♡ Posted Date: 06/06/24 ♡ A/N: Hello! This is for my darling love @carmenberzattosgf - everyone say ' HAPPY BIRTHDAY DIRTY OLIVE MARTINI!!! ' RN!!!! She truly is the love of my tumblr life, I hope you enjoy this my sweetest moot!! I hope you also had a wonderful wonderful birthday. For all you folks that have asks rotting away in my inbox (STILL) i'm sorry :( I am still working I promise, But special days like this only come once per year we have to celebrate while we can! I hope you all enjoy this in the meantime :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT - Incl. but not limited to *ehehem* *cracks knuckles* ; Cockwarming, Spanking, Praise Kink, Choking (hands & arm), (kinda) bondage (it’s just gift ribbon so not really? But still restrained), Daddy!kink (this is mostly for dirty olive martinis reading pleasure & no one elses really in mind, kay, it’s martinis birthday, but you can read it if it’s yours - anywhore, if you don't like the d word SCOOT ALONG) it can be avoided though im not obnoxious w/ it, heavy cavity inducing fluff & aftercare, lowkey sugar daddy!carmy, Fem!/AFAB!Reader, R has long hair, No use of Y/N, Fem!Pet names (Babygirl, Sweetheart, Babe, Baby, Princess, Good Girl, Bunny/Kitten ETC), Established relationship, Unprotected PIV sex, Creampie/Breeding kink, & Other BDSM themes.

♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡

365. Another 365 days had passed, and you were another year older. Another year wiser and all that. It wasn’t usually a day that was out of the blue extraordinarily different then any of the other 364 days of the year, but Carmen made sure that now that you had been official for just about 8 months - it was a day to remember. 

He had this day marked in his apple calendar from the day you’d told him, which was your second date. He felt a bit … creepy doing that so soon. But he just brushed it off as telling himself he was bad with numbers, you were the first person to bring him out of his years-long dry spell, he’d seen you more then once, and didn’t just hook up and dip afterwards, so he figured if it did go anywhere, it couldn’t hurt to make sure it was documented. 

But the day had come, and Jesus fucking Christ was he nervous. He felt stupid for being nervous, you would probably laugh if you knew he was nervous. Tell him to cut it out, that it’s not that important - to which he would give you one of his little laughs. He had big plans for the day, which started with the day off of work, but him getting up at 5 am anyway to make you a gourmet Michelin starred breakfast in bed. 

He tried being quiet as he could, but so many years screaming (and being screamed at) in a commercial kitchen, and all the clanging of pots and pans - his hearing had been a bit dented. So you did wake up to the pleasant smell of coffee and bacon, and came out to see him standing there shirtless making some kind of caramelized French toast. “Shit” he hissed as he touched the pan on accident,  shaking his hand momentarily before continuing as he always did. 

He didn’t water burns anymore unless they bled, it was just a waste of time to him otherwise. “I’m surprised you still have tattoos on your hands” you said, causing him to jump a bit, startled, and turn around to face you, dropping his spatula on the island 

“Baby! Happy birthday- I’m sorry I musta woke you” he comes over, hugging you to his chest and kissing the top of your head “I got coffee all ready for you” he said and led you over to your usual spot at the island and setting down your mug, pouring you a cup and grabbing your favorite creamer from the fridge. It was creamer he made for you, fresh toasted hazelnuts and Indian vanilla beans that he made sure to take a few home whenever the restaurant got them imported. 

“I told you you didn’t have to do anything baby it’s just another day” you said and he mixed it up with a spoon, tapping it on the rim before dropping it off in the dishwasher. 

“That’s bullshit baby you know it- it’s your day, should be a national holiday” he joked, setting another piece of the home baked brioche bread in the vanilla caramel custard mix he’d whipped up with heavy cream and setting it in the pan, sprinkling some cinnamon on top. 

“Mm right. The national day of me where everyone has to bring me presents, and you have to cook me my favorite food. Is that-“

“Your creme brûlée French toast princess, it is” he finished for you and flipped it. The smell was mouth watering. You saw on the counter a bowl with buttery white fluff in it and knew he must have made the whip cream for it too. 

“How did I manage to land the best boyfriend ever?” You muse, taking a sip of your coffee he made you that was perfect per usual. He always made sure to memorize just how you like your food and drink, among other things about you that you were sure to come later. 

It wasn’t long before there was a plate being set in front of you with bacon and eggs and amazing looking French toast that was fucking filled with strawberry filling when you cracked it to cut it, you didn’t even know how the fuck he did that. He brought the dishes to the sink, rinsing them between nibbles of his own naked French toast. 

That was how it usually went, he cooked, then insisted on cleaning, after he made you a perfect and beautiful plate of food that was so stunning you hardly could handle eating it, all while he was nibbling the leftovers or the ‘failed portions’ he called them. You still enjoyed yourself, the food was so delicious how could you not. After you’d finished breakfast it was all up to you how you wanted to do your day. 

You were already over the moon he had taken the day off to be with you, so for now in the early 8 am sun you were sat out on the balcony, smushed together on a sun chair. His arms were wrapped securely around your back as you just sat, enjoying each other's silence. It was so nice to have him this way. 

“Do you want your gift now, or later?” He asked gently, continuing to drag his fingers up and down the length of your back. Your head popped up, fuck. The sun made his eyes impossibly blue. You didn’t think eyes could be that blue until you met Carmy. He was stunning, absolutely gorgeous. Like he was carved from stone. He always got all blushy when you told him that, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose doing that sweet pink you loved so much. 

“You got me a present?” You asked, happiness lacing your tone. You did tell him specifically you didn’t want or need anything, that you’d be beyond happy if he could just get the day off of work and spend it with you, and so when he told you he would be able to do that -  you were over the moon. 

“Maybe- I might have made reservations for dinner, too. So, how about that present sweetheart?” He asked and a smile curled on your lips. 

“You’re a sappy bear” you teased and kissed his lips lovingly before getting up, taking his hand with you and he followed leading you to the bedroom. 

“I love spoiling you, what can I say?” He reached under his side of the bed, pulling out a black and white bag from under his side of the bed that made you gasp a bit when you read the font. 

Chanel?

“Carmy- Carmy this is really-“

“You don’t have to wear it, if you hate it. It’s vintage, I called in a few favors with a friend I made in my time in Italy when I was doing some shadow work in the pastry side of things. It’s uh, so it’s the 97’ spring collection” he took out a black dress bag and your heart thumped against your ribs. You hadn’t ever owned something so high end before - let alone vintage. 

“So it’s kinda reflective of the more business chic look? I guess, that’s what she said was popular at the time” he unzipped it and you watched as he peeled back the fabric to reveal a stunning black dress with pearl buttons that were breathtaking. 

“Oh- Carmen” you whispered, stepping forward and touching the soft but thick fabric, it was stiff, nearly perfect. This wasn’t…a thrifted piece “Carmy who’s dress is this? I- I mean… you got it second hand, right?” You look at him, fingers grazing over one of the smooth buttons 

“No- no babe it. Yeah, this is…I guess you can call it one of a kind? They never put it into production not…not enough companies bought the design I guess, it’s been worn by one model one time baby, for like 10 minutes. It’s practically new-“

“That’s not-“ you shook your head “I don’t care if it was thrifted that feels kind of stupid to say, but you mean that I’m the only one to have this dress? Like…like, where did you even get it?” You questioned and he chuckled a bit. 

“I didn’t. I just got to see the photos of it, well- I didn’t have the time to go to the retired fashion house with my friend and look but she FaceTimed and I picked from what they had in your size. You don’t like it? Shit…” he muttered to himself looking back at the dress and you could practically hear the negative gears turning in his head

“I fuckin love it” you inturrupted and took the hanger from him, walking over to the mirror “holy fuck I’m like-“ you giggle “I’m look like I’m straight out of gossip girl- can I try it on? No! No. Later. Later- what time is our reservation?” You turn to him and he smiled at your enthusiasm. 

“It’s at 6- but you have other gifts not just that one baby” he took a box from the bag as well as a smaller box. 

“More-“ your jaw drops, walking over to the bed. You see the ribbon tying the bigger box together and bit your lip to contain your grin at your less than pure ideas. “I think you gave more than just the gift in the box” you undid the big luxurious bow, the tendrils of ribbon cascading all the way to the floor. There was plenty of it to use for activities later. 

“Is that so?” He held you from behind, chin on your shoulder as you flipped open the lid of the box, tugging open the tissue paper and gasping. 

“Are those-“

“More pearls” he held up the bag, by its handle, tugging off the dust bag to reveal sleek crocodile leather and a ‘Chanel’ logo clasp you could have only dreamed of when you were younger. 

“Holy fucking shit” you held it in your hands, nearly feeling like you should be wearing gloves because of how beautiful and precious the bag was. “You remembered that” you said as you thumbed over the pearls on the handle and he huffed a chuckle, patting your hip. 

“I try my best to remember everything I can about you, it’s kinda my job now” he kissed your cheek “so…y’like it?” He questioned. You were in shock, really. You didn’t even want to breach the thought in your mind of how much it might have costed him, over a birthday - just one day, just your day. 

You knew Carmy was fairly frugal, the man didn’t even invest in an extra dresser to store his beloved jeans in, until you moved in, of course. When you moved in - his apartment became much more alive in a literal sense and emotional one. You had put up artwork you’d found on your trips together to thrift stores, he told you that you had an eye for it, and of course he found you the cutest outfits in return for your decorating skills. 

You had found a total of 3 bear ash trays, 5 bear coffee mugs, a Smokey the Bear T shirt (he only wore it to bed since apparently, you teased,  he was too ‘cool guy’ to wear a printed shirt in public), a set of fourteen bowls, cups, and plates that were printed with what you both assumed was the California state bear  because there was absolutely the California state flag on one of the serving platters - but it was… hand painted? You both laughed until your ribs hurt when you found it, because what the hell was it doing in Chicago? Plus, the bears looked so silly. They became your favorite plates, the very ones you had your breakfast on a few hours prior. 

“No - I..I love it. I love it - I can’t believe you remembered my birthstone.” You said gently, looking at the beautiful gold clasp. You opened it, to see the embossed stamp inside ‘made in Italy’ your heart fluttered at the sight. “I love you” you turned around and hugged him tight. He rubbed your back, enveloping you in one of his big warm hugs, his strong arms rubbing over your back and he kissed your neck gently. He hadn’t shaved yet today, so his stubble scratched at your jaw as he kissed down, over your shoulder. 

You still hadn’t changed out of the velvet robe he’d gotten you a month or so ago, he loved that robe. He saw one just like it while you were snuggling In bed one night. It was hot pink, juicy couture. Something one of Natalie’s friends he crushed on would have worn back in 2005 at a sleepover. He had hunted all over the internet for it until he found it, $90 on depop but he bought it anyway since he’d absolutely scoured the sleepwear section at every thrift in Chicago for it, no dice. 

He tugged the shoulder down, kissing over the bare skin gently before resting his nose in the nook of your neck and holding you close. “I love you bear, so much” you manage to say without sounding as tear filled as you were. “You treat me so special” you sniffled a bit, pawing away your tears quickly so he wouldn’t have to see them. He hated seeing you cry. Even when they were happy tears, it made him want to cry - and he hated crying. 

“Open y’last gift- well, second t’last we’re picking up the last on the way t’dinner” he pecked your lips sweetly and urged you to sit on the bed, setting the small box in your palm and kissing your head. “Open baby. I think you’ll look amazing” he said as you untied the box and tugged it open to reveal 2 stunning mother of pearl earrings encased in gold. 

“So- they’re vintage. Like everything else, cause I know you like it more like me y’know - quality and all that shit. But, ok so” he picked one up and showed you “they’re from the 80s, but I thought the gold was super fuckin sick. So I got em- didn’t realize they were clip on- and I called them and the lady said that was the style? Er whatever? And that they’re heavy, so it’ll be more comfortable for-“

You interrupt him with a kiss, taking the box with fumbling hands and putting it to the side, cupping his cheeks. He hummed gently into you, his hands finding yours and giving them a light squeeze. You pulled away after a few moments of intense kissing, mostly tongue and teeth and small moans coming from the both of you. You pant softly, eyes flicking down to his now red kiss bitten lips before looking back up into his ones that you could only describe as resembling his birthstone. 

“I want you to tie me up, and fuck me like you own me, that is what I want for my birthday afternoon” you toss the ribbon from the purse box at his chest and it flutters down into his lap to which he watches it and looks back at you. 

“That seems like something I should get for my birthday and that’s not for 2 months. But okay - can’t tell y’no on your birthday” he untied your robe and tugged it off, brows raising when he realized you didn’t even bother to put on panties after last nights activities. “Fuck-” he mumbled, kissing down your neck and gently nipping at the tender skin. His mouth sent trails of fire down to the pit of your core, mouthing over you in a way that made you whimper beneath him prettily. 

“Need you so bad daddy” you laid back, hair splayed over the pillow beneath you. The way his eyes raked over your naked frame would have made you insecure if it had been any other hookup you had before him. With Carmy it was different, he was observing you, trying to decide which part of you he wanted to worship first - taking his time with you was his favorite thing to do. It was never mean, never teasing, but moreso savoring the moment, he savored every single second he had of you this way like the first time, every time. 

“I gotchu babygirl” he kissed down your chest, tongue swirling and dancing over your sensitive skin, while his warm palm - so warm, so - so warm, so warm that if you were made of sugar you’d be melting into him - well, you might as well should be considering how pliant you were to his touch - was kneading at the plush fat of your thigh as he ravished your top half. “So soft” he muttered into your skin, sucking little bruises into the flesh of your breast. You watched him, mumbling soft praises into each part of you as if he was telling each body part of yours individually how perfect and meant for him they were. How you were so, so beautiful. Flawless, that was a word he often liked to use. It honestly made you blush, but over the months it made you much more confident in yourself, the negative voices you heard in your mind were usually replaced by his real voice of praise. 

“N’smell so good kitten” he nuzzled his nose in the hill of your cleavage, inhaling. “Mmm- how’d I get so lucky t’have you, hmm? Such a pretty girl wanting to spend her special day with me” you smiled at that, your cheeks felt like they were on fire, so did your cunt- clenching and clit twitching at every praise. He knew what It did to you, how wild it drove you. 

“I ask myself how I got so lucky every day, take care of me so good” you took his wrist, moving his hand needily towards your pussy that was basically crying for attention at this point “please take care of me daddy” you said gently, voice wanton and needy. 

“Oh, princess, f’course- already so wet f’me huh?” he ran his fingers through your folds, earning a pretty moan out of you, your head falling back to the pillow in bliss. “Always so responsive t’me, so well behaved” he mused, easily finding your clit and rubbing light circles over the swollen nub. Your hips buck at the contact, a whine peeling from your lips absentmindedly and hand reaching up to roll your nipples between your fingers as he kissed down your sternum, and ribs, and stomach, trailing down to where you were needing him the most.

“S-so wet” you breathe, spreading your thighs wider to make room for him. 

“God- I could spend the rest of my fuckin’ life between these legs” he kissed the same plush of your thigh he’d been pawing at earlier, spreading your nether lips with his fingers and just admiring. “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen- jesus” he leaned in, his mouth finally making contact with your warmest part, licking a stripe up with the pad of his tongue. The feeling of the pressure as he padded his tongue over your throbbing, sensitive bud, could only be explained as something otherworldly by the way fireworks sprayed behind your closed lids and back arched to the sky. “Taste even better” he mumbled, it was barely audible but you absolutely felt the sensation, as it caused your hips to grind against his face and other hand that wasn’t stimulating your nipples to find the back of his head and essentially ride his face from the bottom.

You felt his tongue lapping at your entrance, before lapping back up and kissing at your clit - basically making out with your pussy, it felt so incredible your brain felt like it could melt out of your ears. “H-holy fuck” you babbled, tugging at his hair in a way that made him groan. He wasn’t exactly a masochist, but he’d told you before he loved it when you left scabs on his back for a week and when you tugged his hair so hard that it hurt the next day it made him hard thinking about it- so you made sure to give him that whenever he made it possible. 

“Yea? Like that daddy?” you breathed, you loved this game you got into. You were there to serve, he was there to praise, the perfect duality for your mixture of kinks. 

“Always so good princess, y’know exactly how t’get me off” he placed a wet, intemerate kiss on your thigh, his chin leaving a print of your glistening creamy arousal and making a click noise at the soaked contact. The action made you clench, which in turn made him smile into your heat, nudging the bridge of his nose against your clit in the way that made your hips thresh beneath him. He chuckled into you, the vibration causing a pathetic whine to leave your lips. “Jumpy bunny, mm?” he mused before continuing

Your jaw fell slack orgasm closely approaching as his middle finger broached your entrance and he sunk in to his palm, curling his finger in a come here motion, as if he was beckoning your orgasm - and It was working. Each brush of the pad of his finger against your sweetest spot made a sweet whimper leave your lips. His lips attach to your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue against it like there was no tomorrow. Your spine arched to the sky, and his other arm came across your hips, holding you firmly in place. Since you could no longer wriggle away from the heavenly stimulation - you resorted to pathetic whines and cries. 

“I-I’m cumming- ohhh- oh daddy- fu-fuuuuhuuuck- shit- ah!” you squeak, mind going fuzzy and thighs quivering as unbeknownst to you you soaked your shared sheets, little hums and ‘oh’s’ stuttering from your lips. 

“Always takin’ me so good, mm babygirl? Even on your day” you came back to him grabbing your hips and rolling you over, looking over the hill of your shoulder as his knee held your thighs down and he grabbed the at least 4 feet of Chanel printed ribbon tugging your hands behind your back and you clasped your fingers into open-fingered fists due to your manicure Carmy always made sure was no more then a week old, smiling to yourself as you mushed your cheek against the mattress while you pull your knees underneath yourself to support your upper half. “Y’lucky Mike forced me into that year of cubscouts” he muttered as he tied a decently tight reef knot into the ribbon. You giggled a bit considering the memories he told you about that year of his life. His dad was the ‘den dad’ which was his ultimate demise as his dad thought masculinity was the end all be all - so made Carmy be the first kid to kill a rabbit during their hunting exercise. But, the other memories were quite funny of him getting lost in a canoe, his first time grilling a hot dog over a fire and setting it (and a tent) on fire, you both got a good kick whenever he talked about it.

Like Richie, which was unsurprising since he was basically his second older brother - Carmy loved to tell, and retell - and retell - stories about his beloved older brother. You had figured it was because of just how much he missed him. In between getting lost in your thoughts of why you loved your boyfriend so much, you felt a sharp smack on your ass. “Answer when I talk t’you, you know the rules” he said and you whimper at the sting to which he leans down and kisses the offended cheek, thats new.

“S-sorry Daddy- I didn’t listen, please- m’sorry, say it again” you beg, looking back at him while laying on your shoulder, eyes pleading. 

“M’only gonna be nice cause its y’r day. I said, D’you want me t’stretch you out or you want another?” he brought his dominant hand to your clit, middle and forefingers pinching the pulsing nub between and tugging it back and forth with a small click, click your wetness introduced with the motion. 

“No- no- stretch me, I want it hard” you plead, wiggling your ass towards him pathetically “Want bruises daddy” you begged and he bit his lip harshly, the already red abused flesh going white with the action. 

“No - Maybe when we get home, m’not leavin’ y’black and blue before a dinner like this, the food’ll be too good f’you to be whining ‘bout it hurtin’ n’wantin’ t’come home” he spanked you rough enough to leave a stinging mark. You whimpered at the force of it

“Ok- okay- yes sir” you agreed, “N-need your cock. Please- “ you begged. He tugged you up by your wrists, carefully of course, supporting most of your weight by your ribs with his forearm and his hand trailed up your body, finding your neck and gripping just hard enough for that yummy, light feeling to grace your head. Natures high. 

“Yeah kitten? Need it? Say it again, I love hearing you beg” he tightened his hand, a small smirk coming to your lips. He always gave you exactly what you needed. 

“Pl-please, Daddy, Need you so bad- need your cum - please” he brought his lips firmly to yours, swallowing your moans as he pushed inside of you, just his tip causing you to shudder in pleasure and whine into his mouth. He squeezed your throat harder, fucking up into you relentlessly. His heavy balls slapped against the meat of your ass, kissing along your hairline as he went on an expedition to chase your next orgasm. If anything, the man was determined in bed. 

“Yeah? Need me t’fill this pretty pussy up? Yea?” he growled in your ear, smacking down on your left cheek with his other hand as he continued. You fell slack against you, not minding he was holding you by the throat and fucking up in to you like a sex doll, it felt good to be used, by him anyway.

“Fill me- please fill me up daddy- Need it- n-need your cum” you whined out. Your voice didnt even sound like yours anymore, it was horse, fucked out, needy, whorish. “So bad- so bad daddy” you added. He grunted, his forearm replacing his wrist and pulling you back as he buried himself to the hilt. He was grunting, and whining, and moaning in a way that made your cunt squeeze his cock like a vice. You gasp as he started instead of thrusting in and out, pulling his hips up and down - bringing a sensation that was making you dizzy with pleasure.

Blood roared in your ears, your g-spot was being assaulted by his tip in such a way you thought you may die from how good you felt, and his hot, raspy moans and praises about how wet, and warm you felt, along with how your pussy was sucking his cock inside - you could have died right then and it would have been more then a satisfying death, and life considering all the joy you’d run into since you’d started seeing Carmy exclusively. Without warning, you soak the sheets and Carm’s thighs. 

The noises you were making were straight up pornographic, and that wasn't lost on Carm either. The orgasm that washed over you - you swore was nearly drug-like - you’d never done them, but you swore the full body orgasm that washed over your being was something akin to a fentanyl high. It was so good,that when you came to - you were untied, and Carmy was coaxing the straw of your lilac colored Stanley bottle to your lips. “Drink, hmm princess? Y’shakin, and that was a big mess, need y’water” he cooed, gently stroking your hair with his other hand. 

“Hmm?” you sit up, a bit afraid of how much time had been lost, that had never happened before. “What - wh-what happened?” you asked a bit worried. Carmy pulled you back to his chest, kissing your temple. 

“Baby, princess, shhh- shh- here, have some water mm?” he coaxed and brushed your sweat stuck hair from your skin, bringing a relief to your boiling hot neck. You finally obliged and took a big gulp, looking up at him with worried, but trusting eyes. “S’only been 10 minutes, y’were shakin then you closed y’r eyes f’r a bit, s’ok, y’r okay sweetheart” He assured and grabbed your hairtie from your wrist, carefully tying up your hair. 

“Thank you f’takin care of me” you mumbled, resting your cheek on his sweat-sticky chest, as perv-like as it was enjoying the scent of your mixed arousal in the bedroom and rubbing your hand over his chest lovingly.  “S’my job angel, Happy birthday baby girl”

[carmenized-onions]

Chicago's Kindest | Blurb #02 - Good.

logline; sometimes you just need to hear someone else say it.

[!!!] series history; not a new chapter!! but like, it's fun, and it's better than the nothing you've been getting, eh?

portion; 2k, just over.

pairing; A platonic Rich & Chip fic, for the boys

tasting notes; a pepper of hurt? a bunch of comfort? I'd describe it as fluff, I think.

possible allergies; this blurb is AFTER the next chapter coming out whenever it comes out (Chapter 16). So. Get into that grindset man. there's a fun thing in this hinting at a fun thing to come !! so!! have fun!! You should definitely read the other chapters in the series before this!!

Not a new chapter baby I'm sorry! But I was noodling around this idea, and I think perhaps you may like it. Should blurbs go on the masterlist? Idk.

When you finally tell Richie he's a good dad, it's when both of you least expect it. Mostly because you weren't trying to tell him at all that day. 

It's January. About a week before the Taylor Swift concert. About a week into back to back to back reservations. Richie’s been burning the candle at both ends— He always gets tipped well, so it's not like it's not worth it. He's fucking Richie. He's the go to. He's good with people. ...Right?

Richie might care too much, might write himself in the schedule too much, might cover for wait staff at a moment's notice too much, might do research on guests in his off hours too much, might push himself to be present at every waking moment too much.

He wishes Carmen noticed, he's certain Carmen doesn't. 

He's taking two personal days for the concert. How dare he? He wouldn't do it under normal circumstances, but his sweets takes priority. 

Carmen, his Highness, will certainly notice time-off before anything else. Fucker.

To make up for it, Richie's working a double shift today. And he's made a ten-page pamphlet on all the reservations and details of the guests that'll be coming in while he's gone. He's good. He's Richie. He's a really good manager, a stellar host, fantastic with people. 

Is he a good dad? 

Probably not. Because he scheduled his make-up hours and didn't think to double check his custody hours. Deadbeat. God, fuck you, Carmen. 

It wasn't entirely his fault. Tif asked if he'd want the extra weekend since something about wedding planning came up. And he did, he always does. More time with Eva is good time with Eva.

And usually he's very good at plugging that into his calendar but he got the call at a very busy time on his shift and he just said yes before actually putting it in and then forgot— Who remembers anything that happens in a phone call? She should’ve sent him a summary email—it got away from him, suffice to say. Then Tif texted asking ‘Hey, when are you coming to pick her up?’ and then suddenly he's the bad guy? Deadbeat. Bad dad. Richie Bad News. Fucked accent. Fuck you, David. Fuck executive chefs all together, just write them all off. 

He called around asking any and everyone if they could take Eva off his hands for just a couple hours, but Richie hasn’t really had many connections since his one connection kicked his bucket. The rest of his connections work the same hours as him, at the same fucked establishment as him. 

Well, that’s what he thought, until he complained about this to you over the phone, first thing in the morning, before he’s set to pick up Eva. 

“I could take her.” The words are lovely and jumbled. He can hear you shovelling scrambled eggs into your mouth. “Could just make Lu cover bar, he’s been wanting to test drive alone anyways.”

Excuse Richie, but he’s always been one to look a gift horse in the mouth. It’s a habit. “Isn’t the whole point of test driving to have someone watching you?” He wishes he was eating eggs too, but again, candle’s on fire. He’s choking down a Kashi bar and attempting to be happy about it.

“Meh.” Is all you reply. Meh. “He’s a talented ass chef, he can handle making some fuckin’ cocktails without me over his shoulder.” 

Even still, he’s got to work out all the kinks. “Carmen’s gonna be pissed.” But you both know, while he’ll have a less than stellar day without you, he will have a fucking awful day without Richie. 

“He will live.” There’s a moment of silence, as you finish chewing down your last few bites of breakfast. “…Would you please give me the gift of some long overdue Eva time, Rich?”

And when you put it like that, when you put it like he’s actually the one doing you the favour… Eva is dropped off at your place an hour before he has to clock in. It’s a touch hurtful how excited she is to spend a couple hours with you instead of him. 

“It’s the return of the champ!” But he gets it, as soon as they arrive, and you’re out front on your stoop ready to throw fake punches at Eva like a boxing coach. “They said she’d never be back in the ring folks—” And picking her up. “But here she is, better than ever, ready to face any and every challenger! E-E-Eva!”

Easy for anyone to get excited at the idea of hanging out with you. He wishes he could join in for even a few minutes, but it’s not in the cards— Nor today’s packed schedule. Rich promptly and tiredly runs over everything you need to know for the day, leaning against your doorway as Eva runs around in your apartment. 

“Full of energy today, get ready to be ever so slightly annoyed because she will not stop playing the why game today.” 

“Hm.” You hum, not the least bit annoyed by the idea. “I played that a lot too, I think. It’s simply karma.”

There’s a sigh of a smile on Richie’s face. God he looks burnt out. You won’t prod, though your worried face does plenty on its own. “Can I make you a coffee or somethin’ before you head out, Rich?” 

“No, no, it’s good.” He’s quick to shake his head, straightening up off your door. “I’ll get Copenhagen to make me somethin’, test drive, y’know?”

“A’right.” All you can do is shrug. “I will feed her the normal foods at the normal times, make her take her two naps, and we will be mostly screenless, if we can help it. But I think I fuck with Bluey more than she does, so…”

“I owe you.” 

The reply is off the cuff, “No you don’t, just bring me back a dead plate or somethin’.” 

Richie smiles and nods, but there’s a hesitation to it. And whether you notice it, or he even notices it himself, he’s not sure. But as you close the door, you peek it open, noticing something. You surprise the man, when you suddenly reach out and lightly slap his neck. You scratch at scruff that isn’t there, smiling. 

He lined up his beard. Richie listens. Even when he doesn’t want to.

“Good man.”

You close the door with a smile, like you didn’t just blast open his brain. You know what to say even when Richie doesn’t know what he wants to hear. And all he wants to hear is good. Good job. Everyone sees the work you’re putting in. You’re valuable. 

“What the fuck— Richard, no surprises—” “Shut the fuck up, shut the fuck up, of course surprises—” “It’s gonna make a mess—” “If Chip were here, you wouldn’t have a problem—” “Well she’s not here, isn’t she? She’s at home taking care of your kid—”

“W—Woah-holy-shit—” Syd has to elbow her way between Carmen and Richie— And a pinata— To break up this fight. “Way too personal too fast, straighten it the fuck up, Chef.” 

She rubs her chest with her fist, and Carmen returns it, after a deep breath. A thousand yard stare towards no one, as he apologizes— Well, he never really says it, but when he says, “My fault. I’m hot.” He means sorry. 

“You need… A second?” Sydney gestures over his general form. “Want to take your ten?”

“Five. Smoke break. Thank you, chef.” And he’s off. Double entendre. He’s always off, when you’re off. 

Syd turns back to Richie. She replaces you as union rep, when you’re off. She doesn’t ask questions, she doesn’t refuse Richie and his pinata, she doesn’t say, ‘Good idea, Richie, Fantastic research on the couple at table sixteen, Good job finding out that they met at a chocolate museum in Brussels as teenagers on separate school trips. It was all worth it, and you’re so valuable.’

She just says, “I’m not cleaning it up.”

But no skin off his back, he shrugs. It’s not meant to be a thankless job, but it is. “Fair enough.” And he puts on his brightest smile, grabs a bottle of champagne off of your shelf, and puts on a fucking show. 

When he’s finally finished, Richie does remember to grab you a dead plate. Well, more specifically, he grabbed a dead plate and then Carmy asked if it was for you, and when he said yes, the stupid loverboy fuck made him wait as he made you— And only you, a star worthy dinner. Yuck. 

He ate your original dead plate in the meanwhile. Richie texts you all this, sending terribly unflattering photos of Carmen during the whole cooking process. You laugh, over text, and tell him you’ll leave the door unlocked for him— Despite as bad an idea as he thinks that is, he just texts back a thumbs up. 

And when he finishes the exhausting day finally, and drives over to your place, and opens your door with one hand, tupperware in the other— He grimaces, as he can overhear his wonderful daughter playing the extremely aggravating ‘Why?’ game, with you, in the kitchen.

He quietly closes the door, not wanting to cause too much of a commotion. Neither of you seem to hear him, so he’s able to listen in. 

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why can’t I use the knife?”

Richie watches from the archway, just peeking slightly. You’re cutting carrots as a late night snack for yourselves. Your back is turned to him and Eva’s sitting on the kitchen counter. She’s not really letting the bowl you’re tossing the carrot sticks in get very full— She’s dipping them in ranch and eating them pretty immediately. 

“Because you might get hurt.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve got little hands, and this is a big knife.”

“Why?”

“Because weirdly enough, big knives always seem to be the cheapest at my grocery store— I really don’t get it.”

“Hm.” She kicks her legs in the air, thinking of her next line of questioning. “Why are you watching me tonight?”

Because Richie’s forgetful, a bad dad, a typical deadbeat divorcee with half a brain— 

“Because I love you. Duh.” Well, of course you have to say that. 

“Why?”

“Because you’re a good egg.”

“Why?”

“Because your dad— And mum— Made you into a good egg.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a good dad.”

Oh. Thank God for Eva asking on his behalf, “Why?”

“Because he’s good.” You say it like it’s so simple, mind still focused on cutting carrots, like you’ve said something as easy as describing the weather. 

“Why?”

“Well— I dunno, that’s like asking—” You put down your knife to pick up what’s left of your current carrot. “This carrot, why is it a carrot?”

“...” Eva can’t help but laugh as she answers, “Because it’s a carrot!” 

“Exactly! It’s a carrot! It just is a carrot! You can’t ask a carrot why it’s a carrot— It’s just a carrot!” You chuckle in return, putting the carrot back down to chop it once more.

You shake your head as you answer, “You can’t ask why Richie’s— Why your dad is good. He just is. He’s good.”

If he were still alone in his car with his Kashi bar wrappers hearing this, he’d probably be crying into your tupperware.

But he’s here, so, can’t.

He takes a step into your kitchen— “Th—”

Immediately, you shriek, stepping in front of Eva as you turn around, knife in hand. No coherent words come out of you, just screaming, thinking you’re about to pay repentance for leaving your door unlocked. 

He almost drops your tupperware, holding it up in what is either defense or an offering. “Not a third time, Christ, please God?!”

At least he knows that in a time of crisis, you can go to bat for his kid. 

At least Richie knows his best actively alive friend thinks he’s a good dad; thinks he’s good.

At least Richie will think of your words instead of any execs first, in his head. 

yippee!!!

one day i'll write romance for this guy, one day. maybe.

anyways. sorry for my absence!! i cannot say it will improve my loves. don't worry, we're still finishing CK, it has just REALLY gotten tossed down the laundry list. No one reads these, but, life updates:

Got a new job! In my industry! I'll be working part-time hours there, so I had to talk to my current job about going part time--- And they let me!! Lowkey was hoping my ass would get fired so I'd have more time for you and more importantly, the next thing i'm gonna write about. Alas. We ball.

NOT a we ball moment, PARENT GOT THE BAD DISEASE!!! (fuck cancer!!!) Send sweet thoughts psychically, but not through actual message or asks or anything because i DO hate talking about it, but yknow. that's taken up obviously: most of my time lately!!

so many parties in october man. having our housewarming party next weekend. yes i know it's weird to be normal in this state but that's sort of how life is. we have to keep going?? crazy .

anyways. Hopefully once I start my new position, I can have a concrete schedule for writing. But until then! I'll probably write you short blurbs whenever inspiration hits, so send in requests man!!

Not to be stupid but requests and just talking about writing instead of the big bad evil in my life will do WONDERS for my mental stabilty!! so come yap in my inbox about CK and make me write about it.

love you!!! bed time for me now jesus chrsit.

[sreyaya]

late night drabbles, Part VII

part VI, Just Better

Part VIII, Deep Slumber

A Heart Filled Again

Norton Campbell x F!Reader NSFW

Content Warning: 0.6K words, Perv!Norton, implied oral (giving), riding him<3, just a drabble-ish fic, MDNI

(A/n: love the thought of perverted Norton being obsessed, written out of PURE HORNINESS)

smut under the cut!

Norton had always been a secluded person, a man who kept his thoughts and feelings locked away from the world, the unfortunate chain of events in the mines with his colleagues had scarred him afterall. But everything changed when you came into his life. Your warm welcome with open arms broke through the walls around his heart, filling the emptiness within him, making Norton feel like he can maybe try again.

When you two finally hit it off, It all felt fulfilling for him. The first time your mouth took him whole, your tongue swirling and choking on his massive size, tears streaming down your face as he penetrated your throat, it was a feeling he would never forget. The way you clamped around him, your snug pussy gripping his length, the wet folds and tight walls enveloping him completely, it all left him pussy drunk. Even in the days that followed, all he could think about was you above him and the way you rode him ever so sensually, your body looking captivating as ever, heck, he never thought he'd do it with someone like you.

Norton soon learned he had to endure weeks without you, your busy schedules clashing and filling days in your calendars to the brim. It frustrated him to no end, to the point where he'd often find himself fisting his cock during every spare moment he had. Failed kites with multiple hunters, early rocket chairs, and missed magnetic pulls were all due to how warm your skin felt against his calloused hands, his hands gripping the dips of your hips, the memory of your plump breasts bouncing gently as you took him from below. Nights passed with Norton having to close his eyes, picturing you taking him once more, going as further as stifling his moans with his own hand to avoid waking anyone in the manor with his loud frustated cries.

Whenever Norton caught sight of you outside of your busy hours, he couldn't resist observing the way you innocently smiled at others, oblivious to how lewd you'd look when you're being penetrated. He remembered how your bangs sticked to your forehead, damp with sweat, and how your ears blushed a deep telling crimson. The image of your eyes rolling back in pleasure as you took him, your wet lips swelling each time you bit them in whilst taking his cock. Your tousled hair, all scattered up, completed the irresistible picture that played endlessly deep in his thoughts.

And finally, your sultry moans, like music to his ears, enveloping his mind as he jerked himself off to the memory of them the most. The way your moans were all carried out, his name repeating loudly in his head while your hips moved against him. The amount of his love juice that had been wasted while finishing to you, hoping you'd be the one to clean up his mess. The sticky strings of white all stuck on his hands as he feels his member grow again with the thought of you replaying once more.

And Oh, the sight of his face when you finally mentioned you're free for the weekend, a small moment together. In the same night, you'd wear your favorite dark olive matching set, perfectly complementing his attire. Your gaze was filled with desire as you teasingly palmed his growing bulge through his pants. How could you drive him this wild? Your innocent eyes seemed to pierce straight through him, straight to his little fragile heart.

You better bet you have yourself prepared tonight as he is planning to use every inch of you, taking you raw and trying out every position imaginable for him. He needs to see that blissful fucked-out expression of yours once more, willing to do anything for it even if it's the last thing he would do. Perhaps he'd fuck you senseless until his dick was the only thing you could think of, or better yet, the only thing you could ever scream for<3

[missmarveledsblog]

Flumpy (Jake seresin x reader ) part 13 18+

summary : when mav can't make it to her birthing class well she has four partners in stead proving once more she lucked out when she came to san diego . jake finally home from deployment and he can't believe how he manage to get most beautiful woman to be his .

warning : fluffy , goofy smutty fun slight insecurity this is an 18+ part so minor do not even peek , grammatical errors and spelling mistakes oral (f! receiving) , pregnancy sex , p in v soft sensual sex , slight choking like barely

previous part

  She could see it on calendar clear as anything only two more weeks til her man was home being able to have him there was something she was truly counting the seconds for . one part of her just wanted to hug and cuddle and just have him  by her side and well the other part wanted to stay in bed and never leave . thing she never expected to rise as much as it did was her sex drive it was to point she felt it was almost driving  her insane. Her toy never been recharged as much and one stage she honestly thought maybe she was turning into a nymphomaniac .  the bump was truly bumping  . the swell of her belly was something she couldn’t get over she would rub the coco butter over her stretched skin . some days loving it other day not so much especially when javy called her a tiger and spent two hours apologizing when she cried over it  . To say it wasn't either of  the two's finest moments to say the least .  she did make a friend though she and lila met up more even after the class  getting decaf coffee and reminiscing of times when they could do stuff  . Mav unexpectedly Was popular In the birthing classes which honestly was surprising  although both were slightly traumatized after seeing one of the women's Home births It was probably honestly the first time he’d  seen his daughter so speechless  for a what seemed to be well that hole dau til they reach hard Deck And penny asked how it went she only looked Down at her  own parts and shuddered . 

She went into work happy a smile wide on her face As she walked Into the hangar  luke had big smile on his face completing and eagerly waiting to show her what progress  .  task she had given him knowing it will be better to visually learn head she was right .  each component put together almost perfectly and slight pride of being the teacher in situation she was even more happier.    The guys even cheered him on making the smile big and dopey . 

“ hey mini mitchell   look at you being an excellent teacher” fanboy cheered. 

“ you know that will only work til  i get married “ she mused . 

“ well i can call you jekyll and hyde cause that will only last til  the pregnancy is over” he shot back . 

“ you know i can make it look like an accident but i love your grandmother too much “ her eyes narrowed. 

“ his grandma?” 

“ i made her my abuela’s   churros  and i made her chili she used to make so now she loves my abuela and her food “ mickey rolled his eyes . “ even though i made it” he added . 

“ you nearly burned own the kitchen last cooking night and your out here making chili and shit “ javy chuckled . 

“ well you never mess up abuela garcia’s food “ he winced . 

She stood in like resting the tray on her stomach another added bonus to the pregnancy thing she found  as she was able to hold the tray of food thanks to bumpy although she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of well actually liking the nickname .  lunch and rest of the day going great she was ready to face the snobby women of her birthing class least her dad would keep them distracted . some where ok but well other still bitches who looked their noses down at her hell she was half tempted to rent a limo and show them what was what . she still wore jakes shirt and shorts knowing in it way was bringing him to the class .  she walked in the door waving to them  and yet they look like she was straggler for the street ready to steal their overpriced mats and water bottle  til she felt the ding her of her  phone pulling it out she seen her dads text . 

“ meeting can’t make it sorry kiddo x”

“ oh this is going to be great “ she huffed already texting into the groupchat to get the chili ready . walking over to a tired lila and luke she felt so stupid standing alone .  

“ weres your dad?” luke asked. 

“ meeting stupid navy “ she grumbled sitting ignoring the others that where watching her . 

“ that’s what the chili text was for “ he nodded already putting the pieces together as he pulled his own phone out.

“ is everyone ready “ the teacher called and everyone cheered . 

It was fifteen minutes in and it was already partner time so they could go through the exercise  and here she was the lone loser as they snickered as the teacher headed her way and shit it was highschool all over again .  til the door swung open and she seen the four guys she spent two month and two weeks with and  once again they came to her rescue. 

“ sorry we’re late  the building around her look the same” javy winked as he walked over . 

“ can i help you gentlemen … with anything” her teacher almost drooled at the sight of her new found brothers. 

“ we’re here with our little sister ma’am .. aint that right “ bob smiled. 

“ the adorable one is right “ she smiled maybe even tried to keep the tears at bay . 

“ well then please be seated with … your sister?” she chuckled nervously almost tripping when she walked back to the top of the class.

“ beat that michelle i got four helper and you just have your husband” she stuck her tongue out at one of women. 

Yeah suck it” fanboy joined in . 

“ thanks for letting us know” javy whispered to luke.

“  my favourite mentor was needed it “ he smirked. 

“ A+ kid “she cheered as everyone looked at her  .  “ sorry continue please” . 

She couldn’t image it  if she was told this was going to be her life well she wouldn’t have believed them . amazing friends that would spend their afternoon in a birthing class so she wasn’t alone , matter of fact they done beyond helping her making sure she was ok , she wasn’t alone   even though it was hard missing jake they made it easier to deal with knowing she was held up by friends no by brothers that constantly proved she  hit the jackpot coming to san diego .

He wanted to go home , he wanted his girl , his flumpy the one he  missed sleeping beside every night  ,  the  one he ate nearly every meal . hell he was even looking forward to meeting peanut and anyother animal she taking in if she did take anymore in .  honestly it could be a full blown zoo and he’d be happy once she was . he also wanted to be there for her 6 month pregnant and he was barely there  . granted the she found out at ten weeks so those times weren’t his fault  and  of course when he does find out he’s on ship for three months. He seen what she was like everytime he seen her and the swell of her stomach on the screen or in the care packages she would send those honestly drove him wild . she was most beautiful woman even in  rough shape from when was thrown off her bike and now pregnant round with his child .  he’d fuck his own fist picturing her under him , kissing down her …

“ hey man your drooling” rooster called snapping jake seresin of the sinful sound of her moaning out of his head.  

“ ain’t drooling god this thing is taking forever” he huffed  the day he was waiting for the one he was going to be able to see his girl  the day he was coming home . 

“ he’s right although i think this deployment sucked more with her pregnant “ nat whined . 

“ and we al have partners waiting … hey look at us being adults “ rooster chuckled .

“ who would of thought the hard deck hound dog would be settled like this “ nat teased. 

“ yeah even i didn’t see that coming but hell if i had to wait decade celibate for someone like y/n shit i would” jake shook his head. 

“ we’ve just one more hour and we’ll be home hell i can’t wait to see her myself “ rooster chuckled . 

She was excited checking over the dress  she wore something similar to the one  she wore  the first time she ever seen jake  although he did say shit she hated him for  but didn’t last long . she checked over her make up and hair bunch of times too  . saying hello to lila who was the same nervous wreck as she was .  she stood with ruby and kyle the three waiting for their partners they missed dearly . ruby took her first deployment like a champ although she did work through most of it . kyle understood what it was like doing a couple himself but he was like a chid on christmas waiting for nat . then she looked down at her phone seeing jake message saying they would be their soon   and she saw the boat coming  it made her heart swell and thankful for the invention of waterproof makeup  which would be put to the test today in more ways than one if she had her way .   it was almost agonizing waiting for the boat to dock and when it did she moved through the crowd completely excitedly to see him . three months apart felt forever as she watched each man and woman passing by. 

“ hey flumpy” was all she heard looking up her cheeks felt like they would spilt with how wide they  stretched  their he stood looking like sin at sea . fuck he looked bigger and his hair grown out it  made her mouth water and go dry all at once as she rushed through more of the grounds before crashing into his arms . those muscle  arms bigger and yet  warmer as he lift her in his arms  as she cried kissing every part of his face .  he barely put her down when they reached the truck instead placing her on the hood kissing her tenderly barely even taking in the sight of her  just to have her in his arms and when he did stand back his eyes looking down at the bump  , the swell of her stomach he filled her it had a lump forming in his throat when he leaned down kissing the clothed skin . 

“ my babies” he smiled looking up his own tears forming in his eyes . god how was he so lucky  looking at the woman he fell so hard for  and his future child still baking away . “ my beautiful girl “ he almost growled attaching his lips to his  and groan falling from his lips as a whine fell from hers. 

“ hey your in public “ a voice coughed out as they pulled back . 

“Roo” she squealed hoping down hugging him tightly for him to pull her back .

“ my little sister all knocked up “ he sniffled .  

“ jesus took that long for it to sink in “ she giggled. 

“ no it just more real” he hugged her again before jake pulled her back only for another to pull her from his hands . 

“ oh my hotstuff “ nat hugged her tightly once again jake pulling her to his side hand  rubbing up and down her side before going straight to her stomach. 

She stood trying to think straight , trying to listening  to her friends wondering how to even function and yet she felt like her brain was turning to complete mush and then she used her condition to her advantage   as she began yawning and moving her legs criss cross.  

“ hey you ok “ jake asked softly . 

“ tired and need to pee and i’m hungry “ she said softly. 

“ trust me lets let her get home and rest “  kyle chuckled pulling nat  away  . 

“ i will be home in afternoon … tomorrow “ rooster called as ruby pulled him away and jake was opening door of car for her putting the belt on her yet he caught it the way her legs clenched and the look in her eyes .

“ oh you little tease “ he groaned kissing her lips softly only for her to whine when he pulled back. 

“ peanut is having a sleepover with my dad so you will meet him tomorrow “ she was almost breathless looking over the man she loved so much and also wanted to tear apart in one go. 

“ good i’m excited to meet him but i’m more excited have you all to myself” he winked kissing her cheek before turning the key in the ignition . 

One thing she loved and hate about jake was  well he was a tease . his hand on her knee moving up and down as she was sure she would soak through the chair with the building need  .  the way her breathe hitched when she felt his hand slipping further up her leg under her dress  . she was wearing a new set of lingerie wondering if he would like it then she was thinking of when she saw herself in the mirror her body was changed so much in the three months she was gone , more stretch marks then what she had before  things were bigger before he left and the insecurity was creepy in like it was having a battle between the need for him and the need to hide herself from him .   she watched  the one story home as jake told her to wait   before he opened the door , unbuckling the the belt and lifting her like it was nothing  shouting a hello and good bye to mrs wilson before shutting the door . he carried her to the sofa sitting on the chair and holding her in his lap. Lips crashing to hers  , her hands moving to through the longer hair on his head her hands giving it a little tug eliciting a moan spilling from his lips making her wetter than she thought she could be and yet that insecurity that biting away making her movement slowing down and tears slipping down her check . 

“ hey baby whats wrong” he pulled back his eyes looking up in concern at sudden shift. 

“ i’m sorry i’m not the same as i was before and if it  too much i understand  if you don’t wanna” she sniffled . 

“ darling i am so lost right now” . 

“ i got so fat and my body” she whispered afraid of speaking louder . 

“ well for one your body is beautiful anyway so hush that …. Can i “ he asked pulling at the hem of her dress  to which she hesitantly nodded.  She lifted her arms as it fell to the floor  he took it all in hell he must of died and went to heaven it was the only way he could explain it . “ this is a work of art and look at this baby is it new” he asked pulling the straps of her bra the red lace  the cups that barely covered anything. 

 “ i got it during the week” she shyly nodded. 

“ good god  look at you look at my beautiful girl  , my future wife and mother to my baby god  maybe i should keep you like this so full of my child , these tits fuck look at them “ his hands rising up her sides before he cup  her breasts a soft whimper spilling from her lips as she felt his fingers pinching and teasing the clothed nipples making her hips buck and her back arch .  “ so sensitive my poor baby must of been hard huh?” he pinched her nipple once more before he pulled the material from her body completely . she crashed her lips against his needed to fell him closer , almost crushed against her as he moved putting her laying on the sofa  kissing down her  jaw , down her neck licking and nipping the skin god she was even more responsive to his touch , whining and  then he was begging him to do something touch her .   light kisses against the tops of her breasts  til she felt the swirl of his tongue on  twirling around the nipple  , sucking and biting that had her squirming   then he was going lower kissing the stretch skin on her stomach loving the scent of the coco butter hitting his nose .   kissing along the  top of the red lacey panties she looked like a present all wrapped up for him and him alone .  she barely register the sound of material  being ripped from her body not when the air hit her soaked folds. 

“ she is crying for me huh ? oh my poor baby look at mess you made” he cooed finger teasing up and down her soaked pussy. 

“ need you jake please .. oh fuckkk “ she cried feeling the heat of his tongue  gliding up  and teasing hitting her clit before doing it again and again. Already she was brainless her hand shoot to his head  , hips bucking  chasing his tongue as she cried for him not to stop . jake could eat pussy it should of been a crime to with how good he could make her a puddle  .   all her focus was all on him and how he was making her feel  to point every thought in her head  insecurities and all gone .  she could feel it tighten and wind up  she could swear pulled apart til it was all to much her back arching feeling his lips wrapping around her  clit  as her orgasim crashed and snapped . her legs clamping around his head as she almost screamed his name . her thighs clamped on his head and yet he didn’t care lapping up her realized like it was the source of life on his tongue.  

“ damn you i’d rather spend three months in between these legs  hell my meal here are better” he winked wiping her slick from his face and yet she was looking at him pupil completely blown and blissed smile that hell more hunger. 

“ my turn” she giggled sitting up only for him to grab her neck making her gulp and even more turned on as he leaned down . 

“ Darling you taste all you want later but now i need to bury my cock in this pussy” he almost growled as he pushed her laying down again his hand still on her throat and the dark irises so blown her eyes almost looked black . heaven it was alway heaven when he pushed his cock into her awaiting cunt .  her velvet walls stretching and clingying to him in a big to never let him go , filling her to a point of that satisfying fullness she never no one but jake could provide .   the hand the was around her throat slipping around the back pulling her up . his movement slow at first savouring the feeling of being home . hearing the cries, moans and whimpers that feel from her mouth and straight to his ears how he went three months without this was beyond him . taking in how her now even bigger tits bounced with each stroke  , how his movements got faster and faster  the hand hold her hips sliping down as  he began massaging her  clit making her almost making her brainless as she began chanting his name like it was only word she knew . the way she almost explode and her walls clenching and pulsating around his length to point all that could be heard was skin slapping and moans and groans fill throughtout the room . she felt it the way his strokes began to get sloppy the way she could fell , anticipated it and the loud groan of her name as he filled her up and his head on her chest both sweating painting messes over the sofa.  

“ welcome home “ she croaked out her throat raw from how he had her screaming in pleasure. 

“ i ain’t leaving it again” he sighed happily lifting up to kiss her softly pulling out  he stood lifting her off the sofa . 

“ what , were we going “ she yawned. 

“ shower  and bed gonna need to get some rest cause we got a lot of making up to do “ he chuckled spanking her bottom making her yelp as she kissed him on their short trip to the bathroom . 

part 14

taglist : @harrysgothicbitch @djs8891 @darksparklesficrecs @sarah-bear706318 @emma8895eb @katiemcrae @eleventhdoctorsangel

[ladylooch]

Listen I know it’s not November but could you write something about reader trying to get Nico to fail No Nut November?

A/N: Challenge accepted, Nico. 😈 This may be my favorite smut I have ever written.

Word Count: 1.0k

Hand on the Bible, you promise the day wasn’t meant to start out this way.

Nico is behind you, fucking you hard as the headboard slams against the wall. You push back against the covered wood, moaning loudly to the ceiling.

“Right there.” You beg him, choking on your moans as he grips your hair, keeping your head tilted back. He loves the way he can see the outline of your features. Your forehead quivers, eyebrows furrowed, nostrils flaring. Your teeth stab at your bottom lip, trying to hold back. “Uhhh.” You finally let lose. Nico pounds harder, thighs clapping against your ass.

“Fuck, you’re going to be so worth it.” He groans. 

But that’s now. Not how this all started.

You were in the kitchen, making yourself a cup of coffee in one of Nico’s t-shirts. The shirt completely covered you just to the edges of your butt cheeks. You walked around like this all the time. You didn’t think anything of it.

Nico came out of the bedroom at the smell of waffles. He shoves his wild hair back from his face, coming to the island where you are pouring more batter into the waffle maker.

“Hi Disney Princess.” You smile up at him, tilting your face for a kiss.

“Good morning.” He croaks, voice coated in sleep. His hand finds your opposite hip with your other side pressing into him. His fingers splay out under his shirt, holding your thigh and fiddling with the waistband of your panties. “Why aren’t you wearing pants?”

“I never do in the morning, unless it’s snowing.” 

“Yeah, but you know what month it is.” You glance at the calendar, seeing today’s date as November 6th. No Nut November can kick rocks in your book.

“Why are you participating in this?”

“Dougie brought it up as a team thing.”

“Easy for him to say, he doesn’t have a girlfriend.” 

“I think his justification is that makes it harder… no pun intended.” He chuckles. 

“You have waiting puss in your bed every night and his bed is empty… and he thinks that is harder for him?” Nico snorts at the word puss. 

“Babe.” He taps your ass at the filth. “Make it easier on me.”

“No. I don’t want you to participate in this!” You laugh, checking the waffle. It needs another minute. “This is a sad month for me. I may slip into a dickless depression.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

“You say that, but are you actually putting money to it?”

“Yeah, the whole team is. Losers have to pay more.” 

“So, if we have sex you’re going to admit that to the team by contributing more to the pot.”

“I am a man of honor, baby.” He nods, picking up your cup of coffee and taking a sip. “And I wanna brag about you too.” He hides his snicker in the cup. You narrow your gaze at him. 

“You better not be talking about that.” You insist, opening the waffle maker again. “That’s between me and you.”

“I did tell Woody your mouth is like a vacuum cause it sucks my soul out.” He covers his face with his hand. “I was so drunk in Vegas last month.” 

“You shit!” You laugh hard, using a fork to take out the waffle. Honestly tho, you’re proud of that. “What did he say?”

“Marry her.” You toss your head back and laugh harder.

“See I knew I liked him. Confirmed favorite.”

You walk across the kitchen to grab plates for both of you. They are a bit high for you so you have to get on your tip toes.

“Oh my god.” Nico moans behind you. His shirt has pulled up on you, exposing the see through backs of your panties. He admires the perfect curve of your ass before squeezing his eyes shut. 

“What do you think about No Nut November now?”

“What if I don’t… nut?” He questions. 

“You can’t.” You know immediately if he slips into you, he’s not going to be done until he leaves a puddle inside of you. 

“I think I can.” 

“Okay. Let’s go.” You take his shirt off, leaving it on the kitchen floor. Nico follows you fast.

And that is how you got here. 

With his cock buried to the hilt as he fucks you, telling you how worth it this is going to be.

You lay down on your stomach, then wrap your calves around his thick thighs, bucking back into him. Nico’s hand wraps around your stomach as he goes aggressively silent. The sound of your skin clapping together fills the room as you work him over. His hand slides down from your stomach, fingertips rubbing your clit to get you clenching him tighter. Your body curls inwards as he starts to thrust deep into you again, awkward, jerky movements that hint at what he is about to do. 

“Come on, Neeks. Fill me.” You beg him as he leans forward to connect your back with his front.

“You.. fuck. Babe!” He groans as he comes inside of you. You follow him, pushed over the edge by his uninhibited moans as he coats your walls. You clench him deeper with each pulse of your orgasm, milking him for all he is worth. Nico collapses onto your back, staying buried inside of you, balls resting on the back of your thighs. You reach around, running your fingers along his spine in encouragement. 

“Happens to the best men, baby.”

“You said that on purpose.”

“Yeah, I wanted you to fail.”

“You pay my fine then.” 

“No, it’s probably 20 grand or something outrageous you rich people decided.”

“It’s like 5.” Nico kisses along your shoulder. 

“I’ll pay you back in blowies.” 

“Sold!” Nico chuckles, rolling out of and off you to settle on his back on the bed. His hand comes to your ass, giving it a gentle pat, then resting there calmly.

“Let it be know, on the record with the New Jersey Devils locker room, that Nico Hischier made it 6 days into No Nut November.” You high five yourself with a snicker. Nico sighs, eyes closed with a blissed out smile on his face. 

“Worth every fucking penny.” His hand slaps your ass hard, filling the room with the distinct sound of a job well done. 

[ja3hwa]

Day 11 : Impregnation - Seonghwa

「Tilte」 : I want It

「Word count」 : 1.4k

-> Genre: Smut, Fluff

Paring: Husband!Seonghwa x Wife!Reader

[Warnings] : Switch dynamics. The reader is in charge for this one hehe. Subby-ish Seonghwa. (He's whinier than anything else) breeding kink, unprotected sex (Don't do this unless you want kids) Dirty talk. Bratty reader & Seonghwa. Making out. Hwa breaks readers underwear (woops). Pet names. Honeymoon romance. Newly wed and all that. If I missed something let me know ♡

February Filth Fest Event Day Calendar

Seonghwa is begging again. He wants children. He’s brought it up in the past and you’ve always brushed it off with a hearty no, saying you both weren’t ready for that type of commitment. Not right now anyway. But this time is different. He’s stopped mid-kiss to look at you in the eye and asked the question.

“Can we have a baby?”

Your throat runs dry. You couldn’t care for a kid, not now when your lives have just only begun to settle down into the first day of your honeymoon, which started straight after your chaotic wedding. But yet you couldn’t help feeling a tingle brew in your lower gut. The desperation in his eyes made your thighs squeeze together. The choked whimper in his words filled your need to please. And how could you possibly say no to your newly wedded husband while staring directly into his beautiful loving eyes? They swim with lust…. you were at a loss.

“Anything for you, my Love,” you whispered facing your body fully to him, having discarded your phone onto the side dresser while you were deep in thought.

His eyes brighten like he has just heard the best news in his entire life. He’s on you within seconds, kissing you deeply and caressing your sides. You moan into the kiss, grabbing either side of his head to hold him in place. His touch sends shivers down your spine and goosebumps across your body. You have never thought of it because of your precautions but just thinking about him going in raw gets you wet. You shift a hand down between your legs and start to rub your clit with two fingers. But a hand quickly stops you.

Seonghwa pulls away and looks at you. “Let me, please,” he begs.

He looks and sounds more desperate than you feel. This man must have been earning for ages. And now he’s finally getting it. He’s just a sloppy mess. You push him back onto the bed, his eyes on you the entire time. You climb on top of him and sit on top of his crotch. You grind down a little, feeling him grow in his pants a little. His hands grab your waist quickly, but you have other ideas. If he’s been wanting this, he’ll have to earn it. You grab his wrists and he lets go with loose fingers. Pinning his hands above his head, you suddenly feel the thrill of being on top. Looking down on him and seeing the desperation upon his delicate features. His mouth is parted and he’s breathing heavily already. It’s truly a sight to see that turns you on.

“Now if you want this, you’re going to have to ask nicely,” you whisper in his ear.

A moan is pushed from his lips as you grind down again at his lack of response. “Please,” he begs. “Let me.”

Satisfied, you let go of his hands but tsk, “Keep them there,” You ordered with a fake tone of dominance, at this point you sounded more cheeky and light-hearted, but neither of you cared. He keeps his arms above him but his gaze is all over you. You can feel his neediness rubbing against your clothed core. Shuffling down, you begin to undo his belt and pants. You stop every time he moves and wait for him to fall silent again. After a solid five minutes of playing this little game of tug and pull, you shuffle his pants off his ankles. His cock is fully erect and leaking. With a grin across your face, you sit on his thighs, placing your soft fingers down his waist. He flinches slightly but keeps his mouth shut.

“So you want kids?” You chuckle.

“Honestly,” he admits, “I couldn’t care less about that right now.”

“Oh, okay.” You reach over to the bedside table and open it. “I’ll just wrap you up then.”

“No!” He shouts and grabs you away from the table. “No,” he says more softly.

You laugh and pat his cheek. “You’re sweet. But do have to grab the lube.”

He smiles widely and toothy as you reach for the bedside table again, grabbing a small bottle of lube out. You slick up your hand and finally begin rubbing his dick. His hips buck up slightly and he suppresses a moan.

“Let it out, honey,” you whisper.

He exhales harshly and his arms move slightly above him. You stop and squeeze the base of his dick. He chokes on a moan but another escape and oh my, it sounds heavenly. Why haven’t you done this before? This is another side of your husband you haven’t seen. You move up on your knees and push your nightie up your thighs with the hand that was on his dick. You reach between your thighs and move your underwear to the side not wasting any more time with taking them off. With the lube on your fingers and the wetness coming from you, two fingers slide in easily. The pleasure zips through you and makes you hunch over Seonghwa. You finger yourself above his dick, breathing into his neck.

“Keep your arms up there now,” you moan. You meant it to come out as an order, but opening yourself up over him is doing something to you you never thought would.

“Please, I just want to touch you,” he pleads.

“We can stop if you want.” You plant a kiss on his lips. “Or we can keep going.”

He shakes his head frantically. “Please. I just want to fuck you,” he pants.

You kiss him again with more want and bring your free hand to comb through his hair. Then you reach down and grab the base of his cock to line it up. He moans into your mouth as you slide down halfway onto him. You pull away gasping. You want more.

“You can touch me,” you say but it comes more out as a whine.

His hands whip forward and grab your hips. He’s a mess right now and you’re loving it. You bob lightly up and down on him, feeling him rub up against you, sending prickles of pleasure up your spine. He guides you down slowly with each thrust until you’ve swallowed him to the base. He let's you sit there, taking his full length in for a moment before you decide to move on your own accord. You shift your hips upwards with your hands planted on Seonghwa’s stomach before moving downwards. You set a rhythm for yourself but soon enough he’s thrusting up into you. You’re gasping and moaning on each time he drives you down on his cock. You get lost in the moment and pick up the pace to chase your own high. You fall on top of Seonghwa and he wraps one of his arms around your waist while the other snakes down to grip your panties.

"I'm sorry." His words were quick and so was the sound of a snap of fabric. Did he literally just rip your underwear? "I'll buy you more." 

"You better." You choke out a moan as he throws the broken fabric somewhere in the room. He brings his knees up and begins thrusting up into you from another angle. It sends a thrill through you that has you moaning louder. You’re both a mess and all of the teasing and playing hard to get suddenly didn’t matter anymore.

“I’m- I’m gonna-” He pants in your ear. He holds onto you more tightly as he buries his face into your neck. With a few stuttering thrusts, you feel him release inside of you. And oh god just the hot sensation of being filled up sends you over the edge as well. You squeeze down tight around him and you can already feel some of his cum dripping down his cock, leaking out of your hole. After the high end, you slowly bring yourself up, his cock still inside you, letting his cum stay deep inside you. Collecting yourself, you glance to see Seonghwa grinning up at you with a glowing smile. It brings a smile to your face as well even though you don’t know why he’s so ungodly happy.

“What?” You ask, stroking his chest with one hand.

“I hope it’s a girl,” Is all he says. That earned him a light slap on the shoulder. 

-

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[halfetirosie]

🐚 Important info from the [Mirage of Scales] PV! 🐚 (Reaction post)

1) This Oceanic Decor goes HARD!!!!! 😍

Fun fact about me; I often draw plants that are sorta remixed from how they are in reality. For example; a giant flower whose stem is actually made of tree bark (aka a literal flower-tree), a cactus with a huge rose instead of a typical cactus flower, plants sprouting feathers instead of leaves, etc.

So, a detail like coral in flowerpots is the type of whimsical shit I LIVE for, and it makes me really happy!

And that wall carving tho---it's so damn intricate! It gives me Mayan Calendar vibes!

2) Ooooo, interesting! I suspect Yakumo's intimacy rooms will have something to do with pearls this time?

Also, I couldn't quite figure out what those papers were at first, but judging by the top-left illustration of a spoon + the top-right illustration of a spoon mixing things in a bowl, I think it's a recipe!!!

Maybe we'll get to see some classic Yakumo-cooking action!

:D

3) FOX SPOTTED!!!! 🎉🎉🎉

For a second I thought that this was a hidden accurate-portrait of Fox Form Kuya, but then I realized that the white fur on its tail was on the wrong side. 😢

4) The lil' animations keep getting better and better! 😲

Yaku blowing a bubble towards us makes me feel some type of way...

Idk man, it's just SO FUCKIN ENDEARING....

MY HEART.....😭😭😭

5) 🚨🚨🚨PRETTY THIGH ALERT!!!🚨🚨🚨

6) Yakumo's hair really is GORGEOUS in this SSR...

(((Insert joke about my love of long-haired fantasy men)))

Nah but, aside from it's length---the way his two-tone hair is braided together is pretty as hell!!!

I feel like you can barely see the coral-red (lol how fitting for this event, CORAL red) part of his hair in its usual SR style, but this SSR shows it off especially well.

7) THE MILF ENERGY IS STRONG WITH THIS ONE...

😳😳😳

What can I say? Purple is my favorite color, and I've always been a sucker for fire-type Pokemon.

THIS BITCH IS TOO MESMERIZING...

It's not fair!

8) 😬 OH NO....

HE'S NOT GONNA BE EXTRA-TOXIC AGAIN, IS HE???

Come on, now... We just had an event where he was extra toxic. I REALLY don't want another one; at least, not this soon. 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️

And I don't say this because Kuya's hand is on Eiden's neck. Choking might not be my thing, but even if it happens in this intimacy room, I wouldn't find it upsetting.

It's because the combination of Kuya's hand on his neck + the voice line telling him "try not to die in such a banal manner" feels threatening to me, and that isn't very sexy. 😔

[kepamount]

everytime

part 2 to best mistake !

universityjock!mason x cheerleader!yn, loosely based on everytime by ariana grande - smut, a little bit of fluff if you squint

word count: 8.1k+

warnings: exes au, very toxic dynamic, mason is a level 1000 dickhead, threat of physical violence (y/n almost throwing a vase at mason’s head), misogyny, strong language, unhealthy possessiveness, explicit sex, unprotected sex, public sex, exhibitionism, teasing, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, degradation and praise (we love duality), pussy slapping, he uses her underwear as a gag, squirting, hair-pulling, spanking, spitting, choking, overstimulation, i think that's everything but pls lmk if i missed something!

a/n: hello my tumblr girlies! yes, ik it's mason's birthday, but we're all getting a gift today, which is some dirty dirty smut lmao, i really hope you all enjoy! x

‘Come in!’ Coach calls a moment after I knock on his office door, and I turn the handle carefully, peering into the room before I step in. Coach is sat behind his desk, eyes focused on his laptop, and Mason sits on the windowsill with his phone in his hands, lips quirking up into a smirk when our eyes meet. He’s wearing a pair of grey Nike shorts (the ones that used to drive me wild) and a loose white t-shirt, a thin chain around his neck and a backwards cap on his head. God, he’s sexy.

‘Fashionably late,’ Coach observes as he looks at his watch. ‘I’m sorry, Coach. I… lost track of time,’ I say weakly, and Coach raises an eyebrow. ‘Is it raining outside?’ he asks drily, referring to my damp hair, and I let out a little sigh. ‘I had a shower. After the gym,’ I add as an afterthought, and Coach gives me an impressed nod. Any mention of people using the gym that the sports department spent a large portion of their budget on last year, Coach is happy. ‘Never mind. Ten minutes isn’t too late, I suppose. Take a seat, y/n,’ he says, motioning to the seat opposite him on the desk, and I sit down.

Mason stays perched on the windowsill, his eyes sparkling with mirth as they focus in on how I adjust my shorts. I suddenly feel exposed, in just a pair of cycling shorts and a cropped ribbed tank top (they were the first clothes I could find after I jumped out of the shower), but then I remember both of the men in this room have seen me in much less. Coach has seen me in the skimpiest cheer kit to ever exist (we had to redesign it a couple years ago because someone’s tit popped out while we were performing) and Mason has seen me completely naked, spread-eagle in his bed.

‘Okay… I have another meeting with the head of the sports department in 20 minutes, so I’ll need to leave in 15. Thankfully, there’s not too much I need to get through – the two of you can discuss everything else without me,’ Coach says, eyes skimming across his notepad, and I feel my eyebrows furrow together in confusion.

‘Without you, Coach?’ ‘Yes. I trust that the two of you are mature enough to come to your own decisions without me holding your hands along the way. You can talk things over together, and fill me in when I get back from my meeting. Is that okay?’ Coach asks, Mason’s eyes flitting to mine, the boy leaving it to me to answer. ‘Yeah, Coach, that’s fine,’ I say, the man nodding before he begins talking through his notes.

Most of it is pretty boring. Mason and I will need to do a health and safety training course so that we can lead practice/training sessions without Coach having to be there, so we discuss when the best time is for us to book it in, Mason and I bickering because our schedules don’t quite match up.

We set up a joint calendar so that Coach can add in matches as and when he plans them with other teams, so that Mason and I can put in practice and training sessions, and so we can plan our monthly meetings (and remember them so no one shows up late like I did today).

We move on to fundraising events, Coach saying that we will need to coordinate the football team and the cheer squad so that all of us are at the fundraising events together. Mason’s suggestions are ridiculous – a kissing booth at the uni fair, a swimsuit car wash, a wet t-shirt contest – but he calls my ideas boring – a bake sale or a raffle at the uni fair. Coach eventually intervenes with our arguing to tell Mason we won’t be doing any of his ideas, and he’ll have to compromise with mine, the boy sulking as I smile smugly.

And then Coach checks his watch, realising he’s gonna be late to his next meeting, and so he disappears, saying he’ll be back in around half an hour. As soon as the door falls shut behind us, Mason wiggles his eyebrows at me with a stupid grin on his face, making me shoot him a dirty look.

Since Mason and I fucked in the changing rooms a couple weeks ago, my head has been a mess, mainly because I haven’t been able to get him out of it. After I ended things with him, I missed him but I stayed strong, promising myself I wouldn’t ever go back to him, either sexually or romantically, but now that I’ve given in once? I don’t trust myself to resist him if he tries anything again. I’ve managed to hold out since that day, despite his several advances during practice and parties, but we’re alone now, and it’s gonna be difficult.

‘I still think we should do a wet t-shirt contest,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Well, you’re an idiot. We’re not doing that, Mason. It’s… backwards, and degrading.’ ‘I thought you liked being degraded,’ he grins, and I just stare at him deadpan, the boy laughing.

‘Fine, no wet t-shirt contest. But your ideas are so boring, y/n.’ ‘A bake sale is, like, the go-to fundraiser! We can all get together and bake brownies or cupcakes in the uni kitchens. And us girls can sell it all on match days as people are arriving! We could do other stuff as well. Bulk buy sweets and chocolates and popcorn, and sell it all in cute little cups. People will pay anything for a bit of food at half-time,’ I appeal, and he doesn’t say anything for a few moments.

‘That’s not a bad idea,’ he admits begrudgingly, and I grin proudly. ‘See? That’s one thing we can do. And we can do a booth at the uni fair. Maybe not a raffle, but a… dunk tank! The football team can do, like, 20 minutes shifts, and people can pay to throw tennis balls at the target. And we’ll make sure the target moves or something, so it’s harder!’ I say excitedly, Mason looking sceptical.

‘Why the football team?’ ‘Because none of us cheerleaders should have to go in a dunk tank,’ I say, my nose scrunched up in disgust at the thought. No girl should ever have to be in a tank of water that the football team have also been in. ‘Fine, whatever. Dunk tank sounds good, the boys’ll be down,’ he says, and I clap my hands together in excitement. Things are starting to come together.

‘There’s easier things we can do, as well. Like… you guys always throw a trillion parties every year at your house. Maybe for, like, Halloween, you can charge for entry. Just a fiver, but that’ll add up. Not all of our fundraising has to be super time-consuming,’ I say, and he nods in agreement.

‘Yeah, that’s a good idea actually. We can say that you have to pay a higher fee if you don’t dress up,’ he suggests, and I’m impressed. He’s finally being sensible. ‘That’s a really good idea!’ ‘What else can we do?’ he asks, and I think for a moment. ‘Don’t you think that’s enough? Selling food at every home game, a dunk tank at the uni fair, and the Halloween party at yours,’ I list off, and he lets out a little laugh, getting up from the windowsill and sitting down in Coach’s chair.

‘You’ll be wanting to do as much fundraising as you possibly can,’ he says cryptically, and I look at him questioningly. ‘What do you mean?’ ‘The sports department are cutting cheer funding,’ he says, looking like he’s barely holding back his laughter, and my eyes widen.

‘What? They’re cutting our funding?’ I demand, and he nods amusedly. ‘After all that money they spent on the gym last year, they can’t justify letting you girls spend so much money on your pretty bows and your skimpy skirts,’ he says, and I just stare at him in disbelief.

‘They cut our funding three years ago, so we stopped getting backup uniforms and started paying for our own safety shorts. They cut our funding again two years ago, so we stopped hiring our own bus for matches and started getting on your guys’ bus or driving there ourselves. They cut it again last year, so we started paying towards our uniforms. They pay half, we pay half. What else can we possibly do to save them more money?’ I ask, voice faint with shock.

‘That stage you guys hire at the end of the year. How much does that cost?’ he asks with a small smile, and I feel my mouth drop open. ‘We need that stage. If we want to pose any kind of threat at Nationals, we have to practice on a stage. The one year we didn’t was literally catastrophic. If we don’t practice our routine on a stage, we’ll have no hope of placing,’ I say, and Mason leans back in Coach’s seat, looking endlessly amused. I want nothing more than to slap him.

‘You need to prioritise other things. How will you compete without any boys on the squad? You need someone to throw the girls around, don’t you?’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘There are some very strong girls on the squad. We have plenty of bases for our stunts. But that’s not relevant. I’m not giving up that stage, Mason. We have to hire it if we don’t want to humiliate ourselves at Nationals.’

‘Don’t tell me. Tell Coach, or the head of sports. I’m sure when they hear how important it is that you have your stage to prance around on, they’ll give you all the funding you need,’ he grins, and I have to slide my hands beneath my legs so I don’t throw myself across the desk and punch the shit out of him.

‘You’re such a dick. You think your football is so much more important than cheer-’ ‘Who stands on the sidelines, singing and dancing, and who runs around the pitch, scoring goals and winning trophies? You tell me, y/n,’ he says smugly, and I let out a humourless laugh.

‘The fact that we cheer for you doesn’t make you any more important than us. You guys literally come to Nationals to support us.’ ‘Oh, yeah. That’s why we’re there. Nothing to do with the hundreds of pretty girls in their cheer kits,’ he says drily, and I take a deep breath, my anger only being fuelled further by my jealousy.

‘You know how much cheer means to me. And you’re sitting here, fucking mocking me-’ ‘Babe, relax. I’m not mocking you. I’m just joking. You know I respect cheer as a sport,’ he says mildly, and I fix him with a hard look.

‘Our funding has been cut, and you’re sitting here laughing about it. How is that respect? Admit it, Mason. None of you give a fuck about our sport. You don’t, the rest of the team don’t, Coach doesn’t. The entire fucking department couldn’t care less about us. Coach didn’t even have the fucking decency to tell me himself,’ I say bitterly, and Mason raises an eyebrow.

‘He would’ve told you if you’d had the decency to show up on time,’ he says pointedly, and I roll my eyes. ‘He still could’ve told me. Cut funding should have been the top of his list. But instead, he started with talking about a fucking health and safety course,’ I spit out. ‘Health and safety is still important,’ Mason grins. ‘You’re a fucking twat,’ I say flatly, taking slow and deep breaths to cool my temper so I don’t ruin his season with an injury.

‘Shows up late, doesn’t apologise, and then sits here insulting me,’ he observes amusedly, and I give him a blank look. ‘I did apologise.’ ‘Not to me. You said sorry to Coach, but he’s not the only one who had to wait for you,’ he points out, and I don’t say anything, just staring at him. If he’s expecting an apology, he’s not getting one.

‘It was ten minutes,’ I say simply, and he lets out a little chuckle. ‘Ten minutes is a long time, y/n. There’s a lot I can do in ten minutes. You would know that, angel,’ he grins, and I raise an eyebrow, ignoring the butterflies in my stomach. ‘Delusional much? You never made me cum more than once in ten minutes,’ I say, and his lips quirk up in amusement. ‘I wasn’t talking about sex. Dirty mind,’ he says beratingly, and I roll my eyes, both of us knowing it’s a lie.

‘But now that we’re on the subject…’ he begins, and I let out a little sigh, readying myself for his bullshit. ‘Who were you just with?’ he asks, and I give him a puzzled look, my stomach turning nervously. ‘What do you mean?’ I ask, and he narrows his eyes at me.

‘I spent the last two hours in the gym. You weren’t there,’ he says amusedly, and I cringe internally at being caught out on my lie. ‘You must not have seen me.’ ‘I might not be as intelligent as you, but I’m not that stupid. You weren’t there, so don’t pretend you were. Even if I hadn’t been in the gym today, I wouldn’t have believed it. Your workouts are pilates in your apartment. You hate the gym,’ he says firmly, and I roll my eyes. ‘Okay, fine, I wasn’t there. That doesn’t mean I was with someone,’ I say, and he grins like a predator watching his prey fall into a trap.

‘You only wash your hair in the mornings, because you like putting oil in it overnight,’ he says, reminding me of how well he knows me, and I sigh internally, trying to think of a lie. ‘I only put oil in my hair every other wash now. So that doesn’t mean anything,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow.

‘Okay, fine. Maybe that’s true. But you only wash your hair every three days. Your hair was fresh this morning when I saw you with Steph and Isla in Starbucks. So why have you washed it again on the same day? You would only ever wash your hair in an evening or on the same day as another wash if you’d had sex and you were all sweaty,’ he says, looking immensely proud of himself for working it out, and I stare at him, wondering if I should tell him the truth or keep denying it.

‘Just tell the truth, y/n,’ he says amusedly, and I let out a little sigh. ‘Fine, okay, yes. I was with someone,’ I say, a victorious look on his face. ‘Who was it?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m not telling you.’ ‘Why?’ ‘Why would you even want to know?’ I ask, and he grins at me. ‘Because I want to know who thinks it’s okay to fuck my ex-girlfriend,’ he says, and I stare at him in a mixture of amusement and disbelief.

‘Thinks it’s okay? It is okay. People other than you are allowed to fuck me. I’ve slept with several people since we broke up-’ ‘Yeah. Jude from your tutor group. Ruben who used to live next door to you – he fucked you a few times, I’ve heard. Marcus, the engineering student who graduated last year. Dec, who’s on my course, by the way. You should have known I’d find out about that one,’ he says amusedly, my mouth falling open more with each name he says. How the fuck does he know this?

‘Did I miss anyone?’ he asks, and I’m too shocked to speak. ‘Didn’t think so,’ he grins. ‘You… how did you find out?’ I say faintly, unable to believe what I’m hearing. ‘People talk. Well, most people talk. I assume none of them talk to you anymore,’ he says with a contented smile, and I just blink at him, everything making sense now.

‘You told them not to talk to me anymore?’ ‘No. I just… spoke to them, and they chose not to speak to you anymore, based on those conversations,’ he says simply, and I burst out laughing. ‘You threatened them? They can’t possibly be scared of a skinny little white boy,’ I say through laughter, and he just raises an eyebrow, getting up from Coach’s seat and walking around the desk.

‘I didn’t threaten anyone. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s because they’d rather be friends with the captain of the football team than sleep with you,’ he says lightly as he perches on the front of the desk, a small gap between us, and I just shake my head at him. ‘You’re fucking ridiculous.’

‘Maybe. Or maybe I just don’t like people touching what’s mine. So tell me who you were just with and-’ ‘Hold on. You don’t like people touching what’s yours? I’m not yours, you dick. In case you’ve forgotten, we’ve been broken up for quite a while now. I’m well within my rights to sleep with whoever I want,’ I say slowly, emphasising every word so they get into his head, and he just laughs, looking down at me with an amused grin.

‘You’re not mine?’ he asks, and I just blink, completely confused. Am I missing something? ‘No, Mason, I’m not, as you’re well aware,’ I reply, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘No, babe. I’m well aware of the opposite. I think you’re always gonna be mine, whether you want to be or not,’ he murmurs, and I shake my head incredulously, unable to believe what he’s saying.

‘Mason. I’m not yours. You can’t remove every boy that I sleep with from my life. We’re not together,’ I say, voice soft with disbelief, and he lets out a noise of annoyance, like I’m purposely being dense. ‘Us being broken up doesn’t matter. I don’t like you being with other boys, just like how you don’t like me being with other girls,’ he says as though it’s obvious, and I roll my eyes.

‘Don’t try to deny it. You still get jealous like I do, and we both know it. You even hate the mention of other girls. Literally just a couple minutes ago, when I said about us going to Nationals to watch all the other cheerleaders there, you looked like you wanted to kill me,’ he points out as an example, and I remain silent, just looking up at him with an irritated gaze.

‘Since we broke up, I haven’t been able to pull a single cheerleader from this university. None of them will entertain me-’ ‘That’s probably not a fact that you want to go around advertising,’ I say amusedly, and he just gives me an unimpressed look before he continues. ‘I used to be able to pull them when we were still together-’ ‘Yeah, I know.’ ‘-but now, I can’t. Why is that?’ he asks pointedly, ignoring my sarcastic interjection, and I raise an eyebrow.

‘Maybe it’s the same reason I can’t pull a single boy on the team,’ I reply lightly, and he lets out a little laugh. ‘So you admit it? You told them to stay away from me?’ ‘I never had to tell them. They just know,’ I say mildly, and he just nods amusedly.

‘If you weren’t mine, we wouldn’t be doing what we’re doing. Stopping each other from pursuing relationships. Getting jealous at just the mention of anyone else. Laying our claims on each other to scare everyone away. But we are doing what we’re doing, which means you are mine. Just as much as I’m yours. We’ll always come back to each other, angel. Every time,’ he murmurs softly, and I hate the way my heart flutters in my chest at his warm gaze down at me.

Our eyes remain locked together as he waits for me to speak, the room filled with an expectant tension. After a long silence, I take a deep breath and say, ‘Help me stop them from cutting our funding. You’re the football captain. They’ll listen to you more than they’ll listen to me.’ He stares at me for a moment before his lips curl up and he shakes his head.

‘After the conversation we just had, you’re thinking about funding?’ ‘I care more about my sport than I do about my love life or sex,’ I say pointedly, and he rolls his eyes, leaning back on his hands and spreading his thighs very slightly, his dick on my eye level. It takes every inch of my willpower to keep my eyes on his.

‘Clearly not. You showed up late to a meeting about your sport because you were too busy getting dicked down,’ he says drily, raising an eyebrow and waiting for a response. I can’t think of one other than it’s your fault for making me so horny which is a pretty shit comeback, so I don’t say anything, a victorious smirk appearing on his lips at shutting me up.

‘Tell me who you were with,’ he demands. ‘Help us keep our funding,’ I reply simply, and he lets out an amused sigh before hooking his feet around the legs of my chair, pulling it closer with minimal effort. My body is caged in between his legs, my face so close to his groin that I feel my skin heating up.

He leans down slightly, our faces close enough that I could count his eyelashes if I wanted to. I avoid his strong gaze and he grabs my chin, turning my head and tilting it back so I’m forced to meet his eyes. ‘Tell me who you were with,’ he repeats slowly, fingers pressing into my jaw, and I realise what he’s trying to do. Does he really think he’ll be able to get me all worked up and then hold out on actually doing anything until I tell him who I was with? He must know that I’m much better at these games than he is.

I lift my hands to rest on the tops of his thighs, dangerously close to his groin, and his gaze falters for a moment, clearly surprised by my boldness. ‘Help us keep our funding,’ I say again, voice low and breathy as I let my hands slide inwards towards his bulge. He raises an eyebrow, not amused at my unwillingness to let him get his way, before titling my head back ever further, my neck fully exposed to him.

I’m forced to stare at the ceiling as he leans to burrow his head in my neck, deeply inhaling my scent before exhaling slowly, his breath making my hair stir and goosebumps appear across my skin. He presses soft kisses to the juncture between my neck and shoulder, lips curling up in victory when I let out a gentle sigh. ‘Tell me who you were with, angel,’ he says, words muffled on my neck, before he sucks at my skin, sending a pleasurable shiver through me.

I keep one hand sat atop his thigh, nails digging into his skin slightly, the dense muscle flexing beneath my palm at the painful contact. The other hand I move to sit atop his bulge, cock already hardening under my touch, but I keep my hand slack, the lack of pressure making him let out an irritated noise,. ‘Help us keep our funding,’ I respond, his breath catching in his throat when I start to glide my hand back and forth, fingers barely brushing his hard-on.

His hand tightens on my neck, pads of his fingers pressing in and cutting off my airways very slightly, my eyes still trained on the ceiling of Coach’s office. He pulls me to lean towards him, his head moving into my view, and he uses his other hand to force my lips apart. I already know what’s coming, watching as he gathers up saliva in his mouth and spits it into mine, my underwear flooding. ‘Tell me who you were with, y/n, and I’ll agree to help you keep your funding,’ he bargains as I swallow down his spit, and I roll my eyes.

I grip his dick suddenly, the quietest noise sounding low in his throat as I palm him through his shorts. I wrap a hand around him and tug at his length gently, the friction of his clothes rubbing against his cock making him let out a shaky breath. ‘If you agree to help me keep our funding, I’ll tell you who I was with,’ I reply, voice slightly raspy because of how tight his hand is around my throat.

‘You’re so fucking stubborn,’ he murmurs, releasing my throat and leaning back on his hands again, clearly enjoying the way I’m touching him through his shorts. So I stop, a dark look appearing on his face. ‘Clearly I get it from my ex-boyfriend,’ I say pointedly, leaning back in my seat, and he only looks angrier at me mirroring his actions.

We stare each other down, his face like thunder while I can’t hold back the small smile on my lips. He’s the one at a disadvantage here, because his anger about not knowing who was inside me a little while ago is consuming him, more than any anger I might have about funding, and we both know it. It’ll kill him to leave this room without finding out.

‘You might want to take care of that before Coach gets back,’ I say into the tense silence, motioning to his hard-on creating a tent in his shorts, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘You can take care of it if you’re so concerned about it.’ ‘I’m not concerned. Just think it’d be quite embarrassing.’ ‘Almost as embarrassing as the wet patch you’ll be leaving on that chair when you stand up,’ he drawls in response, eyes flitting down and noting how my thighs are pressed together.

‘I can clean a wet patch. You can’t hide a boner, especially not in those grey shorts,’ I observe, and his lips quirk up amusedly. ‘You noticed the shorts? They always were your favourite,’ he says, as though I need reminding of how feral I used to become at the sight of him in those shorts, and I roll my eyes. ‘Of course I noticed them, baby. So thoughtful of you to dress up for me,’ I grin, and I can tell from the way his smile slips for a moment that his masculinity is threatened at my mocking.

Before I can even register what’s going on, he’s on his feet, lifting me out of the chair and sitting me down on the desk where he just was before sitting himself in the chair. I might be the one looking down at him now, but I definitely don’t have the advantage anymore, the look on his face and the set of his shoulders telling me he’s far too pissed off to let me keep having my fun.

He doesn’t waste any time, spreading my legs and cupping my core, fingers gliding up and down the crotch of my shorts in a way that makes my body ignite. ‘I’ll make you regret being such a little bitch, y/n,’ he vows in a soft voice before sliding his hands up my body and slipping beneath my tank top, pulling it up and over my head before dropping it down onto my desk, my boobs jiggling with the movement.

‘Braless? Fucking slut,’ he murmurs, pulling my shoes off before his hands come back down to my cycling shorts. I lift my hips so he can pull them down my legs, and I keep myself elevated so he can pull my underwear down too, but he grips at the fabric between my legs instead. His biceps flex as he rips it completely, exposing my wet core to the room.

‘I swear to God, Mason, I’m gonna fucking kill- oh, god,’ I begin ranting, cut off when he presses his thumb down onto my clit. ‘Kill who, angel? God?’ he murmurs amusedly before he ducks his head down between my legs, licking a slow stripe across my folds. I bite down on my lip to stop any more noises coming out, but I can’t help myself as he continues licking at me lazily, like he’s doing it more for his own pleasure than mine.

‘Oh, fuck,’ I moan, pushing off his cap and sliding my hands into his hair as he attaches his lips to my clit, sucking harshly, before his teeth gently scrape across the bundle of nerves. My back arches up, cold air hitting my hard nipples, and a loud moan of his name escapes my mouth. My nails scrape across his scalp as he swirls his tongue around my clit, my thighs closing around his head so tight that it must hurt.

‘Who were you with, y/n?’ he asks, like a dog with a bone, not giving me any time to think before he pokes his tongue inside me, my mind going blank as I let out another loud moan from low in my throat. ‘Answer the question,’ he growls before delving his tongue back inside me, my walls fluttering around it.

‘Doesn’t it bother you… that your tongue… is inside a pussy… that was fucked… by another guy… less than an hour ago?’ I manage to force out between deep breaths and soft whines, and his eyes flit up to meet mine, dark and stormy with rage. 1 point to me. He leans away from me, landing a harsh slap across my core, the shock of the pain making me gasp, but my gasp is cut off by a moan when he pushes two fingers inside me.

‘Fucking slut. Who were you with?’ he demands, eyes trained on my face as I whimper pathetically at the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of me, barely able to hold his eye contact. ‘Someone with a dick bigger than yours,’ I say in a strained voice, just about managing to get my words out before he rubs at my clit with his thumb, forcing a moan of his name from my lips.

‘Liar. Who were you with?’ he asks again, but I’m too focused on the pleasure rolling through my body in waves to muster up any sort of response. He removes his fingers from inside me and slips them into my mouth, my own arousal coating my tastebuds as I lick them clean. He ducks his head down again, tongue flicking across my clit, and I let out another loud moan, head thrown back and back arched painfully.

‘If you won’t answer my question, you’ll shut the fuck up,’ he spits out, grabbing my ripped pants and stuffing them into my mouth before pushing me down to lie across the desk. I feel Coach’s papers against my bare back and suddenly realise that my ex-boyfriend is eating me out in the football coach’s office, with the door unlocked.

Before I have any time to dwell on how dangerous this situation is, he pushes three fingers into me, my back lifting up off the desk and tears filling my eyes. He doesn’t waste any time, thrusting his fingers in and out of me fast enough to fill the room with obscene squelching and choked moans from deep in my throat, muffled by my underwear in my mouth. I can taste myself on the material, the filthiness of it making me gush around his fingers. The desk is probably covered in my arousal.

I thrash around on the desk and it must irritate him because he lifts my legs up over his shoulders, my heels resting on his back and thighs on either side of his head. He sucks at my clit whilst keeping a steady pace with his fingers inside me, and I bury my hands in his hair, pulling his face closer to me.  

He chuckles softly, warm breath fanning across my skin and making me shudder. When his fingers curl inside me, I clench around his fingers, unconsciously trying to push my thighs together, pressing them into his head. He doesn’t relent though, tongue flicking across my clit, fingers stretching me out.

‘Close already?’ he asks amusedly, so used to my body that he knows when an orgasm is approaching, and I can’t help myself from taking the underwear out of my mouth to respond with ‘still sensitive from the last guy.’ He freezes, my response taking him by surprise, before his eyes blaze with fury. ‘You’re gonna regret running your mouth,’ he warns me before thrusting his fingers into me again with renewed energy, a loud moan falling from my lips.

The knot in my stomach tightens as his tongue swirls around my clit, fingers bringing me closer and closer to orgasm. I can’t stop the moans and whines that escape my mouth but the sounds Mason’s making are much worse, his mouth slurping and his fingers splashing my arousal. My fingers are still tangled in his locks, thighs pressed tightly around his head and heels digging into his strong back, but none of it seems to concern him, the boy completely focused on making me cum.

‘Fuck, Mase, I’m… I’m so close,’ I whimper, the submission in my voice making him instantly soften. ‘Come on, baby, cum for me. Cum on my fingers like a good girl, y/n,’ he murmurs against the skin of my inner thigh, the praise pushing me even closer. He curls his fingers inside me, sucking my clit between his lips, and I see white, mouth falling open as my orgasm hits me.

I black out for a few seconds, the pleasure in my body too much for me to handle, and when my vision finally clears, mind finding its sanity again, my body falls slack, head back on the desk and chest falling and rising with exhausted breaths. I manage to lift my head to look at Mason, and I get the shock of my life when I see that his face is wet, skin glistening.

‘Did… I just-’ ‘Yeah, you did,’ he replies, tone soft with shock, and we just stare at each other for a long few seconds. ‘Fuck. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,’ he murmurs, taking my hands into his and pulling me upright, gripping my jaw with a strong hand to bring my face closer. He presses his lips to mine, my own taste on his tongue, and I moan softly into his mouth at his hands digging into my waist as he kisses me fiercely.

He breaks apart from me after a moment and stands up, the tent in his shorts making my stomach clench. ‘Turn over, angel,’ he prompts, and I lift myself up shakily before turning onto my front, body pressed against the wood of Coach’s desk. ‘Can you lock the door?’ I ask, hearing him chuckle softly. ‘Starting to hurt my ego, babe. I wanna show you off, and you’re trying to keep me hidden.’ ‘I’m trying not to get caught naked on Coach’s desk with my ex-boyfriend inside of me,’ I reply drily, getting more laughter in response.

‘It’s fine, he won’t be back for a while. You’re just gonna have to be quiet for me, so no one else comes in.’ ‘Just lock the door.’ ‘It doesn’t have a lock,’ he replies, and I groan in irritation. ‘We don’t have to fuck, angel. I can go without it, and you should be able to as well. Unless the guy you fucked earlier was shit,’ he murmurs, lifting one of my legs to rest on the desk, exposing my dripping wet core to the room.

‘Say the word, babe, and I’ll stop. If you’re so worried about being caught,’ he says, grin audible in his tone, and I roll my eyes. He just wants me to beg him, like he tried to get me to do last time – he’s so transparent. Before I can decide what to say, I feel the head of his cock running up and down my folds, my walls clenching in anticipation. The contact stops suddenly, cold air on my core making me shiver, but then I feel his lips press against my shoulder blade, kissing a slow trail down my back.

‘Have you ever squirted for another boy, angel?’ he asks quietly, and I toy with the idea of telling him that yes, I’ve squirted for every other guy I’ve slept with. ‘No,’ I respond truthfully after a long pause, putting him out of his misery. ‘Have you ever made yourself squirt?’ he asks, and I respond with another ‘no.’ ‘That was your first time?’ ‘Yeah.’ ‘Fuck,’ he curses, lips in the dip of my back, hands on my waist.

‘Wanna make you squirt again, babe. On my cock instead of my face this time. So much that it goes everywhere, angel. Want the room to smell like you,’ he whispers against my skin, making me moan softly, and he loses any composure he may have had before that point. I feel his cock between my legs again, head pushing against my folds, and I feel myself moving back, desperate to feel him in me.

‘You want it?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘Words.’ ‘Yes, Mase, I want it,’ I whisper, my words followed by silence for a long few seconds. ‘Who fucked you today?’ he demands, and I let out an irritated groan. ‘Seriously?’ ‘Yes. I’ll speak to Coach about your funding. No, fuck that, I’ll even fund your stage myself if I have to. Just tell me, y/n,’ he demands, and I want him so bad that I give in.

‘You have to promise me you won’t do anything.’ ‘I promised you I’d help with funding – don’t add other conditions.’ ‘Mason, please,’ I whine. ‘What would I do anyway?’ ‘He’s on the team, and I don’t want you to, like, bench him or whatever.’ ‘He’s on the team?’ he demands angrily, and I sigh. ‘Mase, please,’ I say again, and he’s silent for a few seconds. ‘Coach chooses the team so I can’t bench anyone.’ ‘Mase.’ ‘Fine, I won’t do anything. Just tell me. It’ll kill me not to know,’ he pleads.

‘Conor,’ I whisper, and he’s silent for a long few seconds. ‘Okay.’ ‘Mason-’ ‘Babe, it’s fine. I won’t do anything,’ he murmurs before pushing all the way into me, both of us cursing in unison. ‘Oh, God,’ I whimper, Mason giving me time to adjust, the sound of my deep breaths the only noise in the room. His hands roam across my body soothingly, sliding over my hips and squeezing my bum self-indulgently.

‘Stop clenching, angel,’ he breathes out, clearly struggling to stay composed, and I try my best to stop my walls fluttering around him. ‘You can move.’ ‘Sure?’ he asks softly, my heart melting which makes me want to slap myself. This guy is a Level 1000 dickhead, and I’m getting butterflies while he’s got me bent over Coach’s desk. I need to seriously self-evaluate.

‘Yes, Mase, please,’ I murmur, and he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, making me moan loudly. He doesn’t hesitate any longer, hammering into me with enough force to make the desk creak, just about audible over the continuous moans escaping my lips. ‘Fuck, Mase, feels so good,’ I whimper, his hand coming down on my ass in a slap that makes me gasp, the gasp cut off with a moan when the head of his cock hits my sensitive spot.

‘Such a dirty girl, y/n. Someone could walk in any second and see you getting fucked by your ex-boyfriend on Coach’s desk, and look at you. Moaning like a desperate little slut,’ he says, voice strained with the effort of keeping his fast pace, punctuating his words with another harsh slap. He wraps a hand around my hair, tugging it and keeping my head bent back an at uncomfortable angle, my moans projecting around the room.

‘Still so tight, baby. Conor can’t have fucked you very well,’ he says cockily, both of us knowing full well that the female anatomy doesn’t work that way, but I’m too fucked out to correct him, just about keeping myself from passing out at the intense waves of pleasure rolling over my sensitive body.

‘How would he feel if he knew, babe? If he knew you were getting fucked by your ex-boyfriend less than an hour after being with him? He’d think you’re a dirty fucking slut, wouldn’t he, angel? And he’d be right,’ he says between broken breaths and soft groans, his cock dragging against my walls in a way that makes my legs shake.

He’s relentless with his thrusts, pounding into me like it’s what he was made for. The sounds of skin slapping together, wet squelching, heavy breaths, creaking wood and my high-pitched moans fill the room – it sounds like someone’s playing porn on full blast through a speaker. It’s filthy, the way he fucks into me, pulls my hair, slaps my ass and talks so dirty it’d make even a prostitute blush. I’m embarrassingly close to another orgasm, and Mason knows it – I can practically feel the cockiness radiating from him.

He releases his grip on my hair, my head falling forward, and I moan pathetically when he begins rubbing at my clit harshly, his other hand pressing hard into my waist. ‘Ah, fuck, you feel so fucking good,’ he groans, my walls clamped down around him, making him have to put in so much effort just to be able to move. My body slides back and forth on the desk with every thrust of his, and my mind is completely empty of everything but him and his dick.

‘Fuck, Mason,’ I cry out, eyes watering, and he slows his pace slightly, giving me a brief reprieve. ‘You okay?’ he murmurs softly, rubbing my back comfortingly. ‘Mmhmm. Need you, Mase,’ I whisper through deep breaths, pushing back into him as tears run down my face. ‘Baby, you’re crying, and you still want me to fuck you?’ he laughs, sliding an arm beneath my body and pulling me up so our bodies are pressed together, his cock still inside me.

He keeps one arm wrapped around me, hand grabbing my tit whilst the other hand slides down my body and stops between my legs, fingers brushing my clit. He starts fucking into me again, thrusts slow and passionate now, and my head falls back against his chest. My knee is still up on the desk so he’s going so deep, deep enough that it feels like he’s brushing against my cervix.

‘You gonna cum for me, angel?’ he murmurs against my ear, fingers drawing circles on my clit as he fills me up perfectly, and I just moan in response, prompting a soft laugh from him. ‘Is my pretty baby close? Gonna cum on my cock, y/n?’ he whispers into the crook of my neck, my eyes fluttering shut as the knot in my stomach tightens and I let out a string of unintelligible gibberish.

‘Come on, y/n. Cum for me, angel. Wanna feel you cum around my cock, baby,’ he murmurs, moving the hand at my boob to my neck instead. The moment he tightens his fingers on either side of my throat, I hit my high, moaning his name loudly as my eyes roll back.

He rubs fast circles at my clit to get me through my orgasm, and as soon as my walls loosen around him, he’s pushing me back down onto the desk, hands tightening at my waist as he begins thrusting into me furiously fast to reach his own orgasm. I whine at the overstimulation, aftershocks making my body shudder along with the way he fucks into me, and he lets out soft moans and grunts. His cock twitches inside me and I know he’s close, clenching around him hard to keep him buried deep inside me.

‘Fuck, I’m gonna cum, y/n,’ he groans, hands clamped down on my waist bruisingly tight, and I feel his release fill me up, the boy moaning lowly as he thrusts into me slowly and erratically. He pulls out after a few seconds, the empty feeling making me shiver, and the silence that settles over the room makes the reality of this situation dawn on me. We just fucked on Coach’s desk.

‘You okay?’ he asks, sounding slightly sheepish, and I nod, pushing myself up off the desk on shaky arms. He gets some tissues from the box on the desk, sitting me down and cleaning me up with careful hands. I’m exhausted, trying my best not to knock out as he cleans all the sweat on my skin, smoothing down my hair with light fingers.

‘Want me to help you put your clothes back on, baby?’ he asks softly, and I suddenly remember that we’re not together anymore, and for good reason. Yes, he looks unfairly hot now, with messy hair and flushed skin, but it’s not a good idea to let him get close again, because I’ll probably fold and let him back into my life, and my heart can’t take all that pain again.

‘No, I can do it myself,’ I say, more harshly than I intended, and he reacts visibly, surprise on his face. He quickly masks it with an irritating smirk as he hands me my shorts and top, tucking my ripped pants into his pocket. ‘You’re such a fucking dick for ripping my underwear. That’s two pairs of pants you owe me now,’ I mutter as I pull my clothes on and slip my feet back into my shoes, collapsing down onto the chair once I’m done. He's looking at his reflection in the window, running a hand through his hair before putting his cap back on.

‘You’ll be able to buy yourself two million pairs of pants with all the funding you’re gonna get,’ he says serenely as he opens all the windows, airing the room out so it doesn’t smell of sex. I start tidying Coach’s desk, hoping he doesn’t notice if anything’s out of place.

‘What, you think you’re gonna be able to persuade Coach to give us extra funding instead of cutting it?’ I ask drily as he sits on the windowsill again, and he grins at me. ‘No persuasion necessary. The uni’s given the department double the budget we had last year, so your funding’s gonna be double this year what it was last year,’ he says, my confusion slowly ebbing away into pure rage.

‘What did you gain from lying?’ I say through gritted teeth, his smile growing even more. ‘We both know the answer to that, angel,’ he responds, and I shut my eyes to keep myself calm, taking deep breaths. ‘You’re a fucking twat, Mason,’ I say after a long few moments, reopening my eyes to see his shit-eating grin. ‘If you hadn’t been late to the meeting, y/n, you wouldn’t have missed Coach talking about the budget. So it’s your own fault really,’ he says, and I see red.

When Coach walks in, I’m milliseconds away from throwing the vase on his desk at Mason’s head. ‘y/n, stop!’ Coach shouts, rushing over and taking the vase from my hand. ‘Did you see that, Coach? She was about to physically assault me,’ Mason says with a grin in my direction, Coach shooting him a look. ‘You probably deserved it, Mason.’

‘Coach! She could have wrecked my face,’ Mason whinges as Coach sits back down behind his desk. ‘Anything that happens to your face from this point would be an improvement,’ Coach replies drily, and I fail at stifling my laugh, Mason crossing his arms across his chest with a sulky look on his face. ‘Right, well, at least the two of you didn’t kill each other while I was gone. You may have been about to, but you didn’t, so I consider it a win,’ Coach says amusedly, Mason and I shooting each other dirty looks.

‘Why are the windows open? It’s freezing,’ Coach says, and I hesitate to answer, Mason doing it for me. ‘y/n was feeling hot,’ Mason says, and I try not to react visibly to his horrendous lie. I’m in shorts and a crop top – why on earth would I be feeling hot? ‘Oh, okay. You’re not ill, are you, y/n?’ Coach asks, and I wrack my brains for an answer. ‘No, Coach. It’s just… that time of the month,’ I say quietly, instant regret on his face.

‘Okay, sorry for asking. Let’s carry on with the meeting then. What did you decide on for fundraising?’ ‘We argued about it quite a bit, Coach, but y/n eventually agreed to the wet t-shirt contest.’ ‘Shut up, Mason.’ ‘You shut up.’ ‘No, actually, both of you shut up. To think you were ever in relationship. How did you manage to stand each other?’ ‘I ask myself the same question every single day, Coach.’

[petersprincesss]

Security Measures

It’s been a long time since I wrote anything… but I decided IM BACK BABY!

It felt like it was time for some good old fashioned smut. I really went back to my roots with this one. I still personally prefer to refer to this character as Peter Ballard, and that’s gonna be his name in the fic. I apologize if that’s not your thing, but you don’t have to read it 🫶🏻

Genre: Porn with minimal plot

Rating: so crazy explicit lmao. Minors please leave 💞

Tags: dom!Peter, sub!female!, bdsm kinda?, edging, fingering, orgasm delay, orgasm denial, dubcon? kinda?, choking, hitting, hair pulling… all that good stuff

As always, I appreciate any and all feedback. You know I love to hear you, baby 🙏🏻

Hawkins National Laboratory was going to be the biggest story in my journalism career. Like many children in this area of Indiana, I had grown up hearing all kinds of rumors, stories and conspiracies surrounding the mythic brick building in the woods.

Being a casual column writer for the Indianapolis Recorder gave me access to plenty of information, but most of it felt so mundane compared to what I might be able to uncover in the source of all my childhood nightmares. Through my boss, I was able to secure an interview with one Dr. Martin Brenner, the supposed mastermind behind the madness. The only question now was whether or not I would learn the truth.

Parked outside of the structure, it felt no different than those creepy campfire tales my friends and I had swapped in our youth. This time, however, I knew I was going to go inside. I was going to settle fact and fiction.

I smoothed out my smart pencil skirt and clutched my notepad and two pens close to my chest (I had to have two, just in case one ran out in the middle of the interview, but I had tested them both twice before leaving the house). My modest high heels clicked against the pavement before stopping at the tall glass front door. I took one final deep breath before pulling it open.

The lobby was beyond what I was expecting. Panels of sleek, dark wood lined the walls, and a kind-eyed brunette woman sat behind a mahogany desk with a warmly lit lamp set atop it.

“How can I help you?” She spoke, folding her fingers together and resting them on her appointment book.

“I have a two o’clock with Dr. Brenner,” I replied. I could feel my knuckles turning white around my notepad.

The young lady glanced down at her calendar before tapping twice on my name.

“You’re right on time. I’ll buzz you through the main doors. Go down the hallway and go through security. They’ll guide you from there.”

“Thank you so much,” I responded, already making my way around her desk towards a set of hospital-like doors. She pressed a button behind her desk, sending a buzzing ring throughout the lobby, followed by the click of the door’s lock. I swung it open and entered a lengthy hallway lined with sterile white tile.

Scents of various disinfectants stung my nose as I rushed down the corridor. My watch read twelve minutes before two, and I prayed whatever security measures I had to clear wouldn’t take long.

Around the hallway’s corner stood a second pair of doors with a metal detector and X-ray machine before them. A slender, blonde-haired man dressed in all white stood patiently with his hands clasped in front of his belt next to the machinery.

“Hi, I have an appointment with Dr. Brenner,” I sputtered, paying no mind to the orderly as I set my belongings on the conveyor belt into the X-ray.

“Just remove your shoes, jacket and anything in your pockets,” his gentle voice instructed me.

I followed his orders, sending each of my items into the machine before I stood tall in front of the metal detector. The spotlessly clean man mirrored my stance on the opposite side. Our eyes met for a second before he silently raised two fingers and motioned me towards him with them. I felt a sting of intimidation rush through me as he locked his eyes on me while I stepped forward. My heart skipped a beat when the metal detector beeped.

“It’s okay. Step out and try again,” he commanded, his eyes still motionless.

I did as I was told, stepping backwards and then forwards. The metallic chime rang out once more.

“Are you wearing any jewelry?” He questioned, tilting his head slightly.

“None at all…” I trailed off, touching my earlobes, fingers and neck.

“…Any I can’t see?” He spoke softly.

My eyes shot up to his, half offended by the question, “No.”

“One last time, then. Raise your hands above your head this time.”

I repeated my action, raising my hands as instructed. As predicted, the machine buzzed again.

“I’m going to have to pat you down. We’ll step into the security office for some privacy, okay?”

“Excuse me?” I spat, feeling my eyebrows raise with my temper.

“You don’t have to,” he smiled kindly, “you can always leave.”

I wished in my heart that he was joking, but I could tell he was deathly serious.

“Fine,” I spat, shaking my head in disbelief.

“You can put your shoes back on,” the orderly spoke gently. He picked up my blazer and notepad for me as I slipped my feet back into my heels impatiently.

“Let’s get this over with,” I sighed.

“Right this way,” he gestured into an open door. I walked in before him, nervously kneading my knuckles.

He set my items on a sterile steel table and turned to face me as I glanced around the office. The walls were the same bland tile, nothing on them except for a clock, which read ten minutes before two.

“Please hurry, I don’t want to be late for my meeting,” I pleaded, feeling the rising urge to tap my heels.

“You won’t be, I promise,” a cheeky smile spoke, “I’m Peter by the way.”

“Great, nice to meet you Peter. Let’s go,” I hurried him, not bothering to introduce myself to the security guard orderly that I would never see again.

“Arms out, feet shoulder-width apart,” he instructed. I obeyed yet again.

His palms clasped around the top of my right thigh and began to slowly pat inches at a time down my leg.

“You don’t have a female security guard to do this?” I huffed.

“I’m afraid not. The only women here are the nurse and the secretary,” Peter sighed. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at the response.

Once down to my ankle, he raised his hands to check left leg, but the tip of his thumb grazed me where I was most sensitive, causing my breath to hitch. I prayed he hadn’t noticed as he worked his way further down.

“Nothing yet…” he reported once down to my foot.

A lightbulb went off in my head. My IUD. I had a copper birth control device in my cervix. Could that have set off the metal detector? Surely copper couldn’t trigger it. But what else could it possibly be? I knew that I genuinely had nothing, but how could I tell Peter that without proving it?

Peter began to pat down my right arm, from shoulder to wrist, before moving to my left.

“Listen, I swear I have nothing. I’m just a journalist…” I began to bargain.

“I actually do believe you, but it’s just laboratory protocol,” Peter grinned. His eyes shone a bright blue even in the dingy fluorescent lighting, and I felt a twinge of happiness that at least he was a gentleman.

“The metal detector indicated something at waist level, so I’ll need to examine there further. Again, you may leave at any time.”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly through my nose.

“Okay. Let’s get it over with.”

“I’m just going to slide two fingers into the waist band of your skirt, okay?” Peter informed more than he asked.

“Okay,” I nodded with a deep breath.

As he had narrated, his slender index and middle fingers from each hand slipped into the top of my skirt next to my hip bones, resting atop the hem. As I exhaled, the pressure on his knuckles decreased, the warmth of them abandoning the crisp caress of my blouse.

“Just going to slide them around to the back now,” he gently described his action. As promised, those slim fingers slithered around my hips towards my spine.

With his arms around my waist, I paused to glance at his sapphire eyes, preciously surveying his work. A breath left his lips and cascaded down my chest just as he lifted his touch from my body.

“All looks well, but I’m afraid that means I still have searching to do,” Peter sighed, clasping his hands in front of his belt buckle.

“This is ridiculous,” I fumed, “look, it must have been a fluke. I promise I just want to go to my interview and then leave.”

Peter’s doe-like eyes blinked innocently as I ranted.

“I believe you, miss, I really do. Unfortunately, it’s not my decision. You may either continue, or leave the facility,” his honeyed, overly calm voice stated.

“Fine. What next?” I asked, placing my hands on my hips.

Peter cleared his throat as his eyes darted to the floor between us before responding, “I’ll need you to remove your skirt so I may assess what’s underneath.”

“Assess what’s underneath? What are you, a fucking cop?” I protested, my voice growing in volume with each syllable. Peter didn’t bat an eye.

“You’re welcome to leave at any time, but this is protocol,” he assured me, “I’ll turn away while you undress.”

I thought back to all the time I had spent dreaming about being able to interview Dr. Brenner. The countless nights of sleep I lost staring at my ceiling dreaming about what I would write and what questions I would ask. Was I really going to back out now? Could I just chalk this up to one of the things a girl has to do to fulfill a dream?

I silently nodded and Peter turned on his heels to face the door.

The parting of the zipper was the only noise in the uncomfortable silence. I shimmied my skirt off my hips, allowing it to pool around my ankles before picking it up and grasping it timidly at my waist. The cool, sterile air brushed across my bare backside, sending a wave of goosebumps up to my neck.

“Okay,” I spoke shakily.

The orderly turned back to me and immediately placed his hand on my skirt. I allowed him to take it, kneading my fingers anxiously with nothing left to protect my modesty.

Peter crouched curiously at eye-level with my panties. I felt like a common whore standing before the stranger in nothing but my undergarments and high heels. Of course, today was the day I had decided to wear garters instead of regular pantyhose, which only amplified my bashfulness.

“Could have been these,” he noted, slipping his index finger beneath one of the nude garter straps holding up my stocking, snapping one of the metallic clasps against my thigh.

I felt my heart rate increase dramatically beneath his touch. Blood rushed to my core, causing a noticeable temperature increase between my legs. The visual alone of golden blonde locks kneeling before me was enough to create a knot in my abdomen that grew harder and harder to ignore.

The orderly tsked and shook his head, “I think that’s too small of an amount of metal. It must be something else.”

My palms began to grow clammy as I debated telling him about my contraceptive. 


“Could there be something… inside you? A medical device, perhaps?” Peter asked, his eyes shooting up to mine from between my legs. I had to tell him now.

“Yes,” I spat out, feeling my stomach turn, “I have a copper birth control device.”

“I see…” he trailed off, shifting his gaze to the floor.

“That’s it. I know that’s all. I was just scared to tell you, I had this crazy idea that you would have to confirm it or something.” I blurted, vomiting my words all over him.

A silence grew between us, and Peter’s choice not to disprove my absurd theory became increasingly worrisome. Finally, he rose to his feet, returning to his polite stance with his hands held above his belt.

“I”m afraid that actually is the case,” Peter finally confessed.

My head fell back as I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes imagining what exactly this process might look like. I glanced back at the clock on the wall. I had seven minutes left.

“You better be fucking fast,” I voiced sternly, turning back to those blue eyes.

“Not a problem. Remember, you may leave at any time,” he reassured me.

I nodded as he gestured towards a padded table lined with parchment-like paper, beckoning me to lay back across it. I relaxed back against it, closing my eyes as the orderly shuffled over and stood patiently next to the table.

“Would you like to remove your undergarments, or would you prefer I work around them?” He asked cordially, as if any of this process was anything less than crass.

“I’m in a hurry, just do what you have to do,” I instructed, closing my eyes and clasping my hands above my stomach.

His fingertips wasted no time snaking under my panties and pushing them aside. I exhaled slowly as his warm touch glided over my pussy.

“Breathe for me,” he guided. On my next inhale, he slipped a finger inside me.

Something between a pornographic moan and a wince escaped me, and I found myself biting my lip to prevent more from following it.

“You’re doing such a good job,” that silvery voice cooed.

A twinge of shame crawled from my stomach to my chest as I realized that I was already dripping wet from the interaction. Something about his maintained innocence -everything from his crisp white uniform to his “this is strictly protocol” attitude”- ignited a craving I didn’t know I had. Whatever it was, I knew it was going to make me miss my interview.

“Okay, I think I feel the string,” Peter remarked, shifting his body to give his arm a better angle.

I felt his finger begin to slide out of me when I jolted my eyes open and gripped his wrist assertively.

“Are you sure?” Was all I could managed to spit out.

I lessened my grasp on his wrist and relaxed slightly, “I mean. Are you positive? You don’t need more time?”

“I’m fairly certain, I mean…” he trailed off, clearly missing the memo.

“Peter,” I finally spoke his name, “I think you need to check more thoroughly.”

“Are you sure? You’re going to miss your interview…” those blue eyes batted at me, and suddenly I wasn’t the one feeling so bashful.

“Fuck my interview,” I moaned, guiding his middle finger up to join his index inside me.

“Oh my,” Peter’s voice dropped an octave and those precious blue eyes shifted infernal.

“Please?” I urged, shifting to allow him better access.

“I don’t know,” he falsely contemplated, sinking two fingers into my pussy as he spoke, “are you going to be good for me?”

I choked on a moan rising in my throat before closing my eyes and nodding rapidly. Peter clicked his tongue, uncertain of my answer. I squeezed my eyes tightly and allowed my chest to relax. The grim, florescent light suddenly felt warmer as his slender fingers thrust into me.

“Jesus,” he remarked, slowing his pace, “tightening up on me already, hmm?”

I whined a vague response, bucking my hips against him. Wordlessly, Peter grabbed my leg nearest to him and swung kit over his head so it rested atop his shoulder and stepped forward, forcing my back to arch to accommodate him. Whimpers flowed freely from me as he quickened his pace, and I couldn’t help but open my eyes to look down and take in the sight of his fingers sinking into me.

With his free hand, he reached up and snatched a fistful of hair at the crown of my head and jerked forward, “That’s right, watch my fingers fuck you.”

Whimpers fell into wanton moans, and Peter switched to using his middle and ring finger, curling devilishly where I needed him most.

“Shit, Peter, I’m going to c-“

Before I could even speak the words, the orderly removed his touch entirely from my pussy and released his grip on my hair. My leg slid off of his shoulder, hung carelessly off the edge of the table. Dumbfounded, my misty eyes searched for his. Peter stood motionless, watching me with no readable expression on his face.

Once I had managed to find my breath a little, he spoke, “Are you done?”

“What? No, I was about to and you-“

The back of Peter’s hand landed a heavy smack across my cheek as he leaned in close to whisper, “Are you done being a needy bitch?”

Holding my stinging cheek, I gazed up at him in erotic trepidation.

“Y-yes,” I whispered, not even convincing myself of my answer.

“Good,” he praised, creeping his hand back to my pussy, “let’s continue.”

My panties were pushed to the side once more, and my body lurched forward onto Peter’s fingers as they writhed back into me. He leaned over me, placing his free hand at the base of my neck and whispered in my ear, “I knew you were fucking dirty the second you walked around that corner.”

I felt myself grip him tighter as he accused me, enthralled with his whorish perception of me.

“Fuck, I’m so glad you had to search me, Peter,” I panted, squirming beneath him as his grip on my neck grew stronger.

A sinister chuckle crept from his throat, “I know, baby. Almost like it was meant to be, hmm?”

His question would have felt more ominous if the orgasm that I was fighting against wasn’t growing stronger by the second. I writhed beneath him harshly, now with the intention of staving myself off until Peter was ready. I spread my legs further for him, wrapping my right calf around his waist to give him direct access. My toes curled against the inside of my shoes as I struggled to pull him closer to me.

“Please, Peter, I can’t hold it back much longer,” I squealed, my vision blurring as I starred up at the bleak white ceiling tiles.

“What’s that? Are you begging me to let you cum?” Peter mocked, slowing his pace ever so slightly.

I nodded intently, feeling my chin brush against his knuckles.

“Almost. I know you can hold out just a little longer. Can you do that for me?” He positioned his face just inches from mine, tilting his chin up so he still looked down upon me. Appearing pathetic no longer mattered to me, I just wanted him to grant me release.

“Yes,” I told a half-truth. If he quickened his pace in the slightest, there would be no more waiting.

The stern grip on my throat vanished, his hand now working its way to the collar of my blouse. Without breaking eye contact, Peter effortlessly undid two of my buttons, leaving my sternum and the center of my bra exposed. Nimble fingers pushed the cup of my bra to the side, leaving half of my chest fully exposed. He traced around my nipple slowly at first, sending a shockwave sensation through my abdomen. As my pleasure peaked higher and higher, Peter’s lips swapped with his fingers, sucking teasingly at my flesh.

“Christ, I can’t- I have to-“ I stuttered between breaths.

“Go ahead. Let me hear you cum,” Peter permitted.

My leg’s grip on his waist doubled, and in my senseless passion, my hands clawed at his shoulders and across his back, finally releasing myself upon him. A stream of curses and lustful whimpers echoed through the overly-hygienic office, mixing flawlessly with Peter’s determined grunts as he pushed himself. Peter lifted his head from my chest as my climax began to fade, a bead of sweat falling from his furrowed brow to my sternum. His sapphire eyes bore into mine as the two of us panted back and forth.

“Taste yourself,” Peter commanded, sliding his fingers out of me and up to my tongue. I obliged, pleased at how his scent mingled with my taste. Pearly white teeth smiled approvingly at how eager I was to fill his request.

“I have a confession to make,” the orderly informed, bracing his weight on his palm, now resting next to my head.

“Yes?” I replied, slipping his fingers out of my mouth and holding them delicately between my own.

“I always set off the metal detector when pretty girls come through.”

[lokischocolatefountain]

Unveiled || Chapter 1

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: PG 13 for violence. Subsequent chapters’ ratings may vary

Word count: 1.7k words

Summary: Saving a life was noble. You didn’t expect applause or praise for it. But kriff it would be nice if you weren’t treated as the scum of the Earth for it.

A/N: Gonna make this the SADvent calendar instead of the advent calendar. At this point, I have to admit that I won’t be posting everyday. But I’ll still post when I can. When I have internet and am able. Lot of shit happened. My friend and I got fucked over in three different cities in a very short period of time. We were humiliated in Venice, robbed by an intentionally dysfunctional system in Riyadh, and almost sexually exploited in New Delhi. It’s a round the globe horror story. But some good things happened too- we made friends through our shared trauma and I got to meet my internet friend I’ve been moots with for a loooong time. So in true fanfic writer fashion, here’s a fic I’ve been writing posted during some of the most difficult days of my life

“Go!”

He screamed loud enough to break through the sounds of the intensifying battle. You ignored his heart-wrenching screams and dragged him with all your strength, your own weapon slung over your shoulder and reachable should you need it to defend the wounded Mandalorian. You were a warrior, trained through years of life or death battles. It was why you were sent to the Mandalorian covert on Navarro to train with them. But this was an impossible one. Even for you. Even for the man you were dragging past enemy combatants using your own body as a shield.

You settled him against the walls of the cave you’d dragged him into. You reached into your armor and retrieved the bacta patches you had with you. You took a look at the patches and then at the large gash on his neck that went up who knew how far. The hope you had for saving his life dwindled. But you couldn’t give up. The motto of your teachers back home rang loud and clear in your head.

No soldiers left behind. No life collateral.

“Not s-safe. Not safe you— Listen to me,” he choked out as you leaned in close and inspected his wound.

“Shut up, Din! Shut the fuck up!” You spat as you retrieved more medical supplies from your pouch. You’d done this many times in training. You could do this. You could fucking do this!

“My helmet…” he whimpered too soft to be audible if you weren’t so close to him.

“It’ll be okay, Din. I got you,” you reassured as your brain finally comprehended the exact risk he was in and you knew what you had to do.

“This is gonna hurt at first, alright?” You warned more than asked as you inserted the needle. It was the last thing you did before he lost consciousness in your arms. The last thing you did before making the big mistake that would change the course of both your lives.

———

“Din.”

He looked up at you from his bed, resting after a long session in the bacta tank. You imagined him underneath the helmet, the only face you knew in the covert other than that of the children who were yet to take the creed. His features came to memory, bloodied and bruised and at the edge of life itself. His strong nose, his messy black hair and blood. So much fucking blood. That he was alive at all was a miracle.

“Din?” You called again when he did not respond.

“Why are you here?” He asked, his voice stoic, emotionless as it came through his helmet. It was how it always was. Something about wearing a helmet filtered out part of the humanity of voices. But there was something about the way he spoke this time that was chilling to you.

“I…I just wanted to see if you’re doing well.”

He snorted, turning away from you as though your mere presence disgusted him. Rage boiled through your veins as pain shot up through your legs as a reminder of the blow you’d taken in the process of saving his fucking life.

“You know what? Fuck you, Din. I know you’re hurt and shit, but you have no right to speak to me like that.”

“Get out. Right now. I don’t want to see your face ever again.”

You flinched at the way he spoke. The coldness of his voice and the words themself. You turned away from him and walked out of his room, bearing the pain in your leg as you trodded on to your own room. You didn’t expect him to thank you. No, that was not why you saved his life at the risk of ending your own. But you didn’t expect him to behave so appallingly either. You raked through your addled mind for clues on what you could possibly have done to deserve this. Did you say something before the battle? No, it couldn’t be. You’d exchanged few words before battle and he was…nice. As amiable as could be for a man who spoke in grunts and sighs more than he did words.

You crashed on your own bed, whimpering when the act shot another piercing sensation throughout your body. It did nothing to alleviate your anger for Din, reminding you of what you’d done to yourself for him. For someone you thought a friend until now.

On a strange planet, fighting for space and acceptance, Din was one of the first people to be amicable to you. Well, you took his grunts and sighs as a sign of friendliness. For all his stoicism and his beskar like facade, he never did snap or show signs that he wanted you to fuck right off. So you stuck by. Stuck by when training, when you ate your meals and he sat by listening to your idle chatter. Stuck by when he took a hit and needed saving.

Perhaps he had a concussion.

That should be it. For a man clad fully in beskar, he had a soft heart. Never did he speak to you or anyone else in the harsh manner he just spoke to you. You shivered as images of his dark messy hair and blood so dark it matched returned to your mind. His closed eyes and his limp body collapsing on you as you attempted to remove the shrapnel that has somehow gotten underneath his helmet to his skull. A sharp pain shot through your leg again and you let out a cry. It was a mess pop emotions. You were happy it did not hurt as much as it did on the battlefield yet annoyed that your body was outside your control.

You jumped, both from the pain and from the opening of the door. You looked up, hoping to find the nurse droid that visited you every now and then to check your vitals. The gleaming gold helmet on a tall, strong stature told you that this was no small visitor. Despite all the beskar and the strong shoulders that carried an entire covert, she was very human.

She said you name, in a way that was gentle, calming, yet told you that she could be relied on.

“Did we win?” You managed to ask through the spasms of pain.

“We did,” she said, stopping in front of you. “You did well, warrior.”

You snorted. “I succumbed within minutes of the battle.”

“You did. So did a few others. That does not make you any less of a warrior. You were valiant.”

Despite disagreeing, you nodded. You were in no mood to start an argument with the leader of the community that was housing, feeding, teaching, and caring for you. No matter how much you disagreed with their way of life.

“So, do you visit everyone who got a little scratch of their leg?”

“I do, yes. But my visit is not just to check on your wellness.”

“Oh?”

“You saved one of ours. Din Djarin.”

You said nothing, feeling too embarrassed to acknowledge it even though it was true. It would sound too much like boasting if you accepted. In poor taste in your dismissed it. It was best to take a sip out of the mandalorian pog soup and remain silent.

“Do you know what this means for his future?”

You tilted your head as you considered her words. What the kriff was she expected to say to that? What if it was a rhetorical question and you’d just acted like a womp rat in the snow about it?

“You removed his helmet, soldier.”

“To tend to his wound,” you quickly interrupted. “You— you didn’t see what— you weren’t there! He would’ve died if I hadn’t done that,” you sputtered, shaking your head in disbelief of the implication in her words. The Mandalorian were quite strict about wearing their helmets. Once a child took the creed and wore their helmet, they would never take it off again. But there were exceptions. Right? There had to be. Receiving emergency medical help had to be one of them.

“I know.”

You waited, not for long, for her to proceed. For her to reassure you that it did not count because you had no other choice but to remove his helmet to save his life. With no words coming from her, you shot up from the bed, pain be damned and dragged yourself to where she stood.

“He would have died!”

“I know,” she said, more sternly this time.

“Go on then, tell me how you are going to punish him for the audacity to be alive.”

“He became an apostate the moment his face was seen by a living thing.”

“An apostate?”

“He has strayed from the way and will be cast out from the covert. He is Mandalorian no more.”

You shook your head frantically. That was some bantha shit! “No. No, no, no. No,” you sputtered. “That is not fair. Look, it’s not his fault. He was unconscious when it happened— when I did it,” you said, thumping your chest. “He didn’t do anything wrong. He told me to go away. He was ready to die. Kriff— you can’t— This is not fair,” you screamed, your voice breaking at the cruelty of it all.

“This is the way,” she said in a manner that was too cold for you to consider calm.

“Oh, for void’s sake, spare me the kriff about the way. What kind of way of life is it to cast someone out for being alive?” You spat, all your reservations about rudeness and your sense of cultural relativism flying off into a blackhole.

“There is only one way for him to remain in the covert and he rejected the proposal. Said he could not possibly do that to you.”

“What is it? Does the way ask for a human sacrifice? Is that what it will take to keep him from being excommunicated from everyone he knows and loves?”

“I understand you think us barbarians, soldier. I will discount it on account of your efforts to save one of our own. And for how you have protected us. There need be no blood. Only the establishment of a riduurok so that he will have been seen by the only being he is permitted to show himself to.”

“What is a riduurok?” You asked, even though you had a sinking feeling about it.

“Marriage.”

.

.

.

Masterlist

[cloverdaisies]

➸ GINGERBREAD MAN ︶꒷꒦︶ ๋࣭ ⭑

DAY 1 OF TBZ ADVENT CALENDAR ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 {🧣 } ➸ description: a late night stroll through the xmas markets with boyfriend!younghoon, carols being sung in the distance, the smell of freshly baked gingerbread men and children building snowmen nearby; the feeling of christmas. ⋆⁺. ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

➸ member: younghoon x you ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚.

➸ genre: fluff ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚.

➸ word count: 800 approx. ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚.

⋆⁺. ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

♫ it’s beginning to look a lot like christmas, everywhere you go… ☕️ ₊❅⋆ ⛸️ ♫

Snow fell from the sky above like soft stars drifting down to the ground, glistening over the pavements as a choir all wrapped in wooly scarves sang songs of a traditional christmas with ruby red noses and jovial smiles. The bakers had lined up goods from christmas cakes to mince pies, as small businesses brewed hearty soups and sold hot chocolates to a crowd smothered in whipped cream and marshmallows.

You looked up at Younghoon, the cold air nipping at his cheeks making them glow with a shade of rosy pink as his eyes lit up with the rows of fairy lights reflecting his dark brown iris. He’d noticed you staring, turning to look at you with a smile and a laugh - his breath turning to a white smoke in the cold air.

“You put that whipped cream to shame.” He poked fun at you admiring his features, squeezing your hand in reassurance as he made the horrendous joke.

“That is possibly fighting for the worst thing you’ve ever said.” You choked on your words in shock, at just how appalling his jokes were, despite you secretly loving how cheesy they could be.

Younghoon quickly took a diversion spotting a particular small cabin-like stall amongst the rows of similar builds, selling snow globes that lit prettily. He tended to have an eye for things that were sentimental, littering your home with decorations that reminded him of your favorite times together.

“We can put this on the mantelpiece.” He smiled at one that depicted father Christmas and his reindeers flying soundly above a small village - when he shook it the houses lit up and snow whirled around the scene.

“We can!” You laughed at how cute the gesture was, he took so much pride in the mantelpiece above the log fire where he’d bought expensive frames for all your pictures and placed them all neatly divided.

Once he’d bought everything pretty he could find from each stall, picking out everything you’d looked at twice - despite you telling him not to. He took your hand and brought you to the small café that had been set up. There was a wood burner fire set up in the corner next to two armchairs, where you both sat with hot chocolate warming your hands around the sides of the ceramic material.

“So I was thinking, home alone 1 and 2 when we get back in?” Younghoon asked causing you to look up from your prettily decorated cup, you couldn’t help but noticed the dot of whipped cream sat on his nose and giggle. He looked at you confused, before you reached across to wipe it off as he chuckled in embarrassment.

“I think you’re the one that’s whipped now pal. Anddd… absolutely.” You both laughed at the joke before letting a comfortable silence fall across the scene, as you both looked at each other across the table.

He looked at you across the table with a smile, his hair parted in perfect curtains and his smile lighting up the entire room with a pure kind of joy that couldn’t easily be replicated. The blues sounds of Frank Sinatra filled the room, the blissful lyrics filling the cozy room. Everything was just perfect this year, he was perfect.

He leaned across the table gently gesturing a kiss on the lips, reminding you of how unrescuseably in love you were with him. Younghoon was your place of safety, your feeling of home. As the snow feel around you, the room filled with laughter and joy, everything just felt as if it froze in time - for just a moment as your lips touched his, light as a feather it was if the sound of a camera snapping in your mind preserving the memory forever.

At home you’d build the Christmas tree and listen to all the iconic festive tunes from over the decades, as Younghoon swayed and hummed along to the music - not forgetting to lift you up so you could put the star on the tree. You’d watch both the good home alone movies and cuddle warmly beneath the blankets until you both felt sleepy and eventually fell asleep sprawled out across the couch as the credits rolled in the background. It was moments like these that made Christmas so special. He made everything so special.

⋆⁺. ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ︶꒷꒦︶ ₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚

a/n: hello festive daisies! it’s been a while since i’ve written some absolutely disgusting fluff & writing this made me feel so warm stg deserving of day 1 of my tbz calendar! ik very short but if im gonna survive 24 days this what we’re going for <3 enjoy!!

[tropes-and-tales]

I’ll Make it Up to You

Day 16:  Bath/Shower Sex (Nick Amaro x F!Reader)

(For the 2022 Kinktober event offered by @the-purity-pen​​.  The original post and calendar/list can be found here.  So very, very late because I had other things I needed to do.)

CW:  Established relationship; (shower sex; hand job) 18+ only.

Word Count:  1416

Nick comes home in a bad headspace:  long shifts working a series of date rapes at Hudson, another case failing in front of a grand jury.  He just wants to collapse into bed and try to sleep, but he hasn’t seen you in days, has only fallen asleep beside you for a few stolen hours before he had to be back to work.

You’re on the couch when he gets home, and he sheds his coat and shoes before coming over to kiss you.

“My wayward boyfriend,” you say with a soft smile.  “To what do I owe the pleasure of finally seeing you at a semi-reasonable hour?”

“Caught the bad guy, and my grand jury fell through.”

Your smile drops, and you press your lips together in a sympathetic frown.  

“What can I do to help?” you ask, and you reach out to take his hand in yours.  “Did you eat yet?”

“At the precinct.”

“Want me to put the game on for you?”

Nick squeezes your hand gently, shakes his head.  “Nah.  I just need to shower and then maybe we could go to bed?”

Your smile returns, and you kneel on the couch, stretch towards him, your neck craining to kiss him again.  “Sounds like a plan.”

*****

It’s immediately obvious that Nick needs sleep more than anything, judging by the three deep, jaw-cracking yawns he makes when he’s just stripping out of his clothes.  His eyes water at the force of each yawn.

Though you’d never say it….the man looks awful.  His complexion has an unhealthy cast to it, and he has deep circles under his eyes.  There’s a spot where he missed shaving that morning, and a second spot where a cut has only just healed.  He hasn’t been eating right, and he certainly hasn’t been sleeping.

As much as you’ve missed him, it wouldn’t be fair to make him stay awake when he needs hours of good, quality sleep.

And yet, you’ve missed him terribly.  

So you split the difference and wait for him to climb into the shower, and then you join him.

If there’s one thing about Nick that genuinely irritates you, it’s how he never takes care of himself…and how he scoffs when you try to take care of him.  You guess that it’s a symptom of his upbringing—his father was no treat, and he grew up under the usual patriarchal bullshit that taught him men don’t need care.  Or maybe it’s just his work—detective work is usually thankless, and working with special victims is extra rough.

“What are you—” he starts to ask when you peel back the shower curtain, but you cut him off with a quick kiss.

“Hush, Nicholas.  Let me take care of you.”

If you get irritated by his lack of self-care, you do love how much he enjoys being babied and cared-for, when he finally gives in to it.  Nick Amaro, resident tough guy:  he practically purrs like a big cat when you lather up and help him bathe, kneading your fingers into his knotted back and shoulders.

When you help him shampoo his hair, you scratch your nails into his scalp, and the man groans like he’s being tortured…but then he wraps his arms around you, pulls your naked form to him, and you can feel how aroused he’s gotten despite the soul-deep exhaustion he must feel.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he mutters against your ear.  “Let me rinse off—”

You cut him off again, this time by reaching down and grasping him—lightly, but it’s enough for him to choke against the rest of his words.

“Shhh.”  You tilt your head towards him, and he kisses you.  You break away a moment later, shift your head.  Kiss the side of his neck, kiss under his ear where the hinge of his jaw is.  You lay a gentle trail across his collarbones, pressing your lips in the divot of his throat.

“I want to take care of you,” you whisper against his wet skin, and you grip him more firmly, give him an experimental stroke with your hand.  He huffs out a frustrated breath against your head.

“I won’t be able to….shit, if you make me come now, I won’t—”

You tilt your head again and gaze up at him, offer him a soft smile.  “You can make it up to me later, Nick.  Let me take care of you now.”

He doesn’t answer—he just huffs another frustrated sigh—but he presses his hips forward into your hand, which is answer enough.  You shift a little, find firmer footing in the slippery shower.  You wrap your free arm around his shoulders, lay your hand on the back of his neck to hold him against you.

Then you shift your other hand against him.  You get a better hold of him and begin to deal him languid strokes.  You bend your head to watch:  the flushed head of his cock slipping between your clenched hand, the tip wet and leaking. You swipe your thumb against it, use the slickness of his pre-cum to lubricate the stroking and twisting of your fist.

“You can…harder,” he groans after a moment.  “Harder.  Please.”

You oblige him with a grin.  You were never a natural at hand jobs, always too gentle, too afraid of being rough and hurting what seems to be a sensitive part of the body.  But you squeeze Nick harder, nearly enough to encircle his thick cock with your fingers, your fingertips almost touching the tip of your thumb, and he hisses praise in your ear at the sensation.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” he mutters, and his hips find the rhythm of your hand, meets you thrust for thrust.  “Feels so good.”

You keep going.  You huff out a breath, a low moan when his hand reaches down to grasp the curve of your ass, but you don’t stop stroking him, twisting your wrist so that the bend in your hand where your fingers meet your palm run along the sensitive underside to his cock.  You can sense him unraveling—his shallow thrusts lose their cadence, and his breathing takes on a ragged quality—so you grip him harder.

He comes a moment later:  a hoarse fuck spilling from his lips, the hot spill of his cum spurting over your hand, up your wrist, across your belly.  He digs his fingertips into your hips, hard enough that you may have bruises, and he chokes out your name as he finishes, then calms.

You can feel how relaxed he is now.  Your hand on the back of his neck—you can feel how the release, the hot water of the shower…it all helped to loosen the tight knot there.

It doesn’t stop him from feeling guilty, apparently.

“I could live a thousand years and still not deserve you,” he grumbles against the side of your head.  He shifts his hands, settles one between your shoulder blades and the other to the back of your head, cradling you gently against him.

“I like the thought of you living that long and trying though.”

“Hmmm.”  He moves a little, presses a light kiss to your temple.  “How about I start with a date night tomorrow, huh?  Take you out for a nice dinner, maybe some dancing…”

“I like the thought of that too.”

Nick pushes away from you a fraction, just enough so he can peer down at you, those earnest brown eyes of his almost pleading.

“You take good care of me, mi alma,” he says.  “I’ll make it up to you.”

You purse your lips at him and he kisses you.  When you part, you tell him with a smile, “that’s just what good girlfriends do, Nick.”

You turn away from him then, so you miss the way his expression turns soft, turns maybe a bit introspective.  If you would have stayed facing him in this moment, he might have cracked—might have blundered out a half-assed proposal, might have mentioned the ring he had picked out.

But you turn away and reach for the washcloth and soap, so Nick has a beat to get himself under control.  To stick to the original plan of proposing in a month’s time, though he’d be happy to be married to you now, to drag you down to the courthouse and make you his wife now…because you take care of him, and he wants to take care of you too.