#could i try to tough it out and push through a little? i mean i guess but that takes effort and energy and i don’t wanna
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gyudons · 1 year ago
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despicable
updates as of 22 oct
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Travis Dermott knew that he would draw attention with his actions in the Coyotes’ home opener against the Anaheim Ducks at Mullett Arena on Saturday. The Arizona defenseman just hoped that the spotlight might shine on the issue that he was addressing, not on him.
“You don’t really want to go against rules that are put in place by your employer, but there’s some people who took some positive things from it,” Dermott said. “That’s kind of what I’m looking to impact.
“You want to have everyone feel included and that’s something that I have felt passionate about for a long time in my career. It’s not like I just just jumped on this train. It’s something that I’ve felt has been lacking in the hockey community for a while. I feel like we need supporters of a movement like this; to have everyone feel included and really to beat home the idea that hockey is for everyone.”
“I won’t lie,” said Dermott, who is playing on a one-year, two-way contract. “From the outside, it’s easy to see that I’m putting my career on the line for something. I definitely went through some emotional ups and downs that night, not regretting anything by any means, but I’d love to have maybe done a couple of steps a little different by making sure that everyone was aware of what was going on before I did it.
“I don’t want to put my teammates or my coaches or my GMs or the equipment managers in any kind of bad light when it’s their job to kind of look out for something like this happening. It was definitely something that I did just by myself and was prepared to kind of deal with whatever repercussions the league decides to push towards that. I’m not going to back off and say that this battle is won, but we’re going to find better ways to do it.”
As Dermott noted, LGBTQ+ inclusion is an issue that he has supported for a long time. Without getting into specifics, Dermott said the issue is personal for him because it impacts people close to him.
“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t shed tears about this on multiple occasions,” he said. “So yeah, it’s something I’m definitely very passionate about.
“I’ve met a lot of people that from the outside, it looks like they have everything going right in their life and they have a smile on their face every time they talk to you. But sometimes when we get closer to people and get comfortable enough for them to open up to you, you can see that there’s some pretty dark stuff happening to some good people. It doesn’t take too many times encountering something like that for it to really change someone.
“I’ve been blessed to have some of those opportunities put in front of me to really change my view of what being a good person means; what being a good father and a good example and role model means going forward. You really see how people are hurting and it’s because of a system that maybe no one’s intentionally trying to be malicious about, but until you’ve really had that first-person experience seeing people hurting from it right in front of you, it’s tough to kind of take steps.”
It would be a surprise if the league handed down any sort of punishment. The optics alone would add to the public relations damage that the original ban created. Even so, Dermott reiterated his desire to bring the entire franchise into the fold before he takes similar actions in the future, but he also made it clear that he will not be silenced on the topic.
“It’s not like I’m shutting up and going away,” he said. “I know more questions are going to be coming. We’re just going to be as prepared as we can be to just spread love. That’s the thing. It’s gay pride that we’re talking about, but it could be men’s health. It could be any war. It’s just wanting world peace. Everyone’s got to love each other a little bit more.
“Like my parents said growing up, ‘How awesome would it be to be the guy that people look up to?’ That’s what really hit home when I was a kid, especially from my mom. You want to grow up and be that guy. You want to be the guy that’s having the impact on kids like NHL players had on you. If they had been racist or bigoted, that’s going to have an effect on you.
“With how many eyes are on us, especially with the young kids coming up in the new generation, you want to put as much positive love into their brain as you can. You want them to see that it’s not just being taught or coming from maybe their parents at home. They need to see it in the public eye for it to really make an effect.”
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thetrinitytest · 1 year ago
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i have covid
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prael · 1 month ago
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Chemistry
Jenna Ortega x male reader smut [Commissioned fic]
Masterlist word count: 9,196 Kofi(donations/commissions)
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"You know that's not my thing, right? Why even bring this to me?" You throw the papers down on her desk and they spill over the wooden surface.
"Did you even look it over?" She sighs, holding out her hands for you to take them back, "This could help you break out of the R-rated mould you've found yourself in."
"Look it over? You know this isn't my genre."
She rubs her forehead as though she's stressed, "Look, we all have to make concessions, right? It's a few months of filming and a lot of money."
"It's fucking romance," you dismiss.
She raises her voice in response, "It's your fucking career."
"What's that supposed to mean?" You push back, and she's taking a glass from the shelf behind her desk and emptying the whiskey within it in one practised motion. She's keeping her cool and taking a moment to simmer down by cleaning up the papers. The silence tells you as much as her words could. She's trying to help you like she always has.
She says, "You know what it means. You're no George Clooney. You're no Vince Vaughn. One trick ponies are rare. You gotta work on your range."
You stay quiet, clenching your jaw because you can't argue. This is what she does: tells you what you need to hear instead of what you want to hear. She's tough love and always has been. Took you under her wing and at times carried you to where you are today, so who are you to question her judgement?
"Did you ever stop to think 'why'?" She asks before taking a drink. "Why would I bring you a part that I know you're going to hate?"
You cross your arms, remaining silent as you stare at her. She smirks before answering her own question.
"Because I know who they're eyeing for the leading actress. Jenna Ortega. You know she's all the rage these days. Netflix deals and music videos. She's fuckin' viral and she's fuckin' money. Her name is gold so I want you on her fuckin' hip." She takes another sip, watching you absorb the information she's feeding you with an unrelenting stare.
She always gets like this, all the foul-mouthed excitement is enough to convince you that she really believes what she's saying.
"Alright. Got a pen?"
-
Pre-production is... well, it's different. It all feels a little foreign to you, right from the off with the script reading, because it's obviously such a different vibe than anything you're accustomed to. It's all so light and breezy and a little comical. You don't do comical.
There's no deep-seated angst, or hatred festering below the surface of your character, rather he's kind, loving, funny, a little bit of a klutz. It's a long stretch from the characters you usually play—murderers, drug dealers, car thieves. Now the viewers are supposed to like you?
Most days on set aren't that far outside of your comfort zone though—you don't think. You go through the motions like you always do, take direction and talk to the production crew, and keep it cordial and civil with the cast, especially with Jenna. Up until now, your characters have had a few brief scenes. It's all coffee shops and public parks, pretty places with lots of wide shots and lingering looks in the script, and you aren't sure how comfortable you are with it.
"Camera two," The director calls and you and Jenna take up position.
You grab her hand, and her smaller fingers curl around yours instinctively, holding on tight. She smiles at you and says softly, "Just like we talked about, okay?"
You nod and rub your thumb over hers to ease her nerves. There was this awkwardness for the first few days that has gradually eased away, the two of you talking more often. Not work stuff, which might have been smart. Just small talk. About food and places you've visited, TV, and bands, it kept things light and amicable.
"Quiet on the set."
Silence falls, and your heart rate speeds up. Your breathing is a little laboured as you wait.
It's the first time you're supposed to kiss her and somehow it doesn't feel like just acting, not really. Acting for you is fighting with some rogue cop or soldier, all stunted rage and brute force. Or you're stalking someone through the dark streets at night, the cold metal of the gun in your hand biting at your skin while you focus on nothing but landing a kill shot. There was never anyone looking at you the way Jenna is right now.
She's biting at her bottom lip, hazel eyes peering through impossibly long lashes to stare at you. You've been told this scene is important because it's a bit of a catalyst for the rest of the movie. She's looking at you, you're looking at her, and then when they call 'action' it's supposed to be one of those moments where fireworks erupt and the earth moves. That's what they want; a connection.
"Action."
Jenna bites her lip and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, glancing up at you nervously. She's so much more practised than you, so much more effortless with putting on her act. All you have to do is smile and lean down to meet her lips. That's all there is to it, as the director says: just like that, perfect. But you want him to call cut. To say it's too staged, or the lighting is bad, or that the location isn't right.
No such luck.
You move slowly like she needs to be savoured. Of course, you've been coached, there's stage direction in your head in addition to her hand on your forearm.
Your lips brush hers tentatively, once, twice, and you tilt your head a little further to bring her closer. Close, but still not quite... until she breaks character and giggles into your mouth.
"I don't think you're supposed to be laughing," you joke, and there's an eruption of frustration from the other side of the cameras at a ruined take. You aren't bothered though, and neither is Jenna by the looks of it. She's half hiding her face against your chest and grinning like an idiot.
"I'm sorry," she says weakly, pulling away. "It's so hot in here."
She fans herself and starts pacing, while the director calls out, "What the hell was that?"
You wave a hand, "Sorry, my bad." You try to take the blame. "Can I get five minutes?"
The director sighs and gives in with a shrug. "Five minutes!"
"Really, you don't have to—"
"It's fine," you explain quickly, before turning to the line producer who just happens to be passing, "Hey, can someone cool her down? Maybe some water?"
"I'm fine," she tries to argue.
"You're flustered," you tease.
"You were doing this thing with your eyes. I don't know how to explain it. It was kind of intense, I had to laugh," she laughs again, and it's an easy, airy sound, the kind that soothes, and you decide that you like hearing it.
"I was? Damn," you sigh, running a hand through your hair.
"I know this isn't usually you're thing, I'm guessing it's your first kiss on camera? Just relax. It'll be nice," she shrugs, clearly far more sure of herself than you.
-
You're deep into the filming now. You think you're selling it, this whole relationship thing, making it seem natural as well as making the people around you believe that the chemistry is there. The weirdest thing of all is that you really enjoyed kissing her. Or, at the very least, you haven't minded it thus far. You don't know if that's the right feeling to have, there's no guidebook for this—not that you've read.
Off the set, she's nice, she's friendly and eager to get to know you. Maybe it's weird that she's trying too hard, maybe she just wants to work as seamlessly as possible. Regardless, it seems to be helping, because now, when it's your turn for coverage, you're more than happy to lean in and capture her lips. She's gotten bolder and so have you, to the point where she runs her fingers through your hair and kisses you back, so when 'cut' finally comes and the mood is broken, it takes a few moments to reorient yourself to the real world.
It's easy, you decide.
Now, the two of you have been joking about today for a while. She's been running this rhetoric of how excited she is for the car scene.
You remember your first read of the script and how this part had you almost cancelling the gig. So, sitting here in the backseat, with cameras fitted all around you and Jenna in your lap, is just a reminder of the monumental shift from where you were then to where you are now.
"Just ignore them," Jenna instructs and kisses you lightly. "Do whatever feels natural." She's echoing the words of the director, though from her they're much more relaxing to hear. You kiss her, her body languid and warm, pressed flush against yours. The touches you feared come so naturally now as you put a hand on her waist and trace her ribs, dragging her shirt up a little bit more with each pull.
There's something rather enticing, you must admit, about putting hands on her slender waist, even if it's under the watchful eye and strict instructions of the camera. Especially when her tongue does that thing where it flickers past her lips and finds your own. Fuck, she's good at this. There's no other word for it.
There has to be a call for a 'cut' coming soon, right? It was supposed to be a brief make-out, so says the script, but they don't seem too interested in stopping either of you anytime soon. You've heard that it's normal, to feel aroused while filming, but it certainly doesn't feel right. The fear is seeping in the longer this goes on; fear that Jenna will feel exactly what you're scared she'll feel.
But those short jean shorts she's wearing while sitting atop your lap, hips flush with yours, tend to elicit some automatic reaction, whether you want it to or not.
"Alright, cut! Great work everyone. Break for fifteen!" The director yells, the tension snapping immediately as Jenna rolls away, giggling.
She says something to you, you don't catch what as you blink in her direction, but she's already climbing out of the car, bending forward ever so slightly to give you a tantalising show of her ass before shutting the door behind her.
A few minutes later you've made your way to the drinks trailer for some much-needed water, that's when there's a tap on your shoulder and the unmistakable strawberry scent that accompanies Jenna hits your nose.
"You look a little shocked, is everything okay?" She has this wry smile on her face that turns your stomach a little bit.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you respond stiffly, cracking open the water bottle and taking a long drink. You nod towards her and state, "Good work out there."
"I should say the same to you," She's closer than before, the tip of her shoe bumping against yours as you stand with the picnic table at your back. "You're a natural. And the boner? Nice touch," she mocks.
She's far too cavalier for your liking right now, and more than a little brazen.
"Don't look so freaked out. No one is going to say anything. It happens all the time, don't worry."
"Do you just have a thing for humiliating me, Ortega?" It's a thing the two of you have been doing for a few days, the fake sternness and the use of surnames, like you're pretending to be angry with each other.
"What if I do? Are you going to go file a complaint?" She sings, tracing her finger down the centre of your chest.
"Watch it, Ortega," you respond half-heartedly, and she steps a little closer.
"How about you keep the boners to a minimum from now on though. It's distracting." The smirk on her face grows only more devious before she winks and then turns away, vanishing into the crowd and leaving you alone and in need of a very cold shower.
-
On-screen chemistry is the single most important thing in a film like this. If you don't make the watchers believe that the two of you are madly in love, then it's all pointless. You're getting good at this, playing this game, this new facet to your role. You think about the warmth of Jenna's kiss and her fingers curled around the nape of your neck; the feel of her in your arms.
Each take gets harder to finish. Make no mistake, it's not that the kisses are a problem, in fact, they're actually a little too easy.
You're both laid in a bed, under the covers, you're on your back and Jenna is half-draped over you. Her hair is a purposeful mess and there's lipstick on your neck. The implication is clear, the two lead characters hooked up for the first time, and you're simmering in the morning after, caught by your character's phone ringing beside you on the side table.
Jenna is quiet, watching the sheets twitch every time you move. You can tell that she's thinking by the furrow in her brow and the way she bites on her lip. The cameras are rolling and you need to answer the phone. There's no one on the phone, of course, that gets added in post. For the purpose of the scene, it's your ex-girlfriend who can't quite let you go.
"Why do you keep calling me?" You look weary like your heart is about to give up. The line is silent, but you know the script. "I don't care if you're upset with me, it's over. It's done. There's nothing left to say."
Jenna props herself up on one elbow, facing you with her dark eyes, her tousled hair falling over her shoulder. She is, in a word, mesmerising, and it feels wrong to turn your face away from her, even to add more angst for the camera.
"I'm hanging up," you continue, staring back at her.
Jenna pushes her hand under the sheets and balls it into a fist. She hovers it right over your crotch. Her character is supposed to jack you off while you're on the phone until you manage to hang up. That's what's supposed to happen.
You fake a gasp as her hand begins to move. When she bites down on her lip in response, it's the hottest expression you've ever seen. You swallow hard and your cock gives an honest twitch that feels as though it catches her attention for a fraction of a second. Her eyes widen and flick to the source of the movement, her jaw clenches and it brings you an almost unwanted satisfaction.
Each fake stroke presses down onto the growing ridge of your hardening cock, but neither of you breaks character or even dares to break eye contact. You keep up with your lines, and the strain in your voice is all too real, "I don't care how torn up you are about this, me and you are finished."
The ache in your muscles builds heat prickling under your skin, setting you on fire. You tighten your jaw in response as a means to control yourself. Only for Jenna to do the unthinkable. She lowers her hand and glides it down the length of your hard cock before wrapping her hand around it.
What's she doing?
She grips tightly, and even though there is a pair of underwear separating the two of you, it's still her. For the first time in the duration of this shoot, you drop out of character completely, staring at her in utter disbelief. What are you supposed to do in this situation? You can't just say something, it's going to get you both in trouble.
She strokes you beneath the bedsheets in tandem with the scene, so no one else has a chance of knowing. So, you keep talking, murmuring some fake dialogue and struggling with every word.
"It's—mmh," you turn your head, squeezing your eyes closed and steeling yourself. This is madness, utter madness. The throb of your cock only worsens the longer her hand keeps sliding, stimulating. It's a hellish limbo. "It's not fair for you to harass me like this, delete my number will you?"
This is the point where the ex-girlfriend realises something is wrong. In the script, she's figured it all out. She recognises the whimpers in your voice, and you're supposed to deny it. But Jenna won't stop touching you, pushing down harder, applying more pressure and using the full length of your erection as her playground.
Your breathing is heavy and strained. You try to clear your throat subtly, "No, no I'm not with someone right now." You glance at Jenna who grips tighter and smiles devilishly. "You have no idea what you're talking about. If you think, for even a second—"
You try your best to focus on your performance, but with the physical distraction, all your carefully practised lines start to fall apart, coming out jumbled. Jenna is rubbing harder, stroking faster, and her hand feels so good around your cock.
This is the point where your ex shouts, and you finally hang up the phone and drop it onto the floor, kissing Jenna fervently.
"Cut!" The director calls. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect."
Suddenly, the two of you are apart. A rush of cold air floods the space between you. Reality checks in again, reminding you that this was not in the script.
"You good?" Jenna asks, and you nod back. She looks proud of herself, the cheeky little smirk that crosses her features is all too telling. A reminder of just how insufferable she can be.
"What was that?" You lean closer and whisper, trying to make sure that the rest of the cast and crew can't hear you.
"That was acting." She responds confidently.
The director interrupts by calling your name and saying, "Alright, next scene. Going to need you under the covers. Prepare the phone call."
Now it's this whole role reversal, Jenna's character gets her own phone call from her own ex. That's the concept at play here. Meanwhile, you're down between her legs. The script says to 'mimic oral sex' which sounds... so much easier than it actually is.
Aiming to ignore the whole ordeal, or at least your conversation and what it could mean, you duck down beneath the sheets to prepare. She's lifting them up and watching you get into position. She's spreading her legs, while a team of assistants adjust the sheets over you to dress up the shot.
Looking up at Jenna under the sheets, through the darkness and at the apex of her thighs, this feels so wrong. She's... pretty. No. You stop the thoughts in their tracks. This isn't a time to indulge. You're filming a movie, playing a role. In reality, this is your job. There's a script, there's a purpose.
Still, the whole situation just feels so strange.
"Action," the director yells.
As per the script, Jenna drops the sheet as the phone rings. Now it's just you and everything below her chest, trapped under a blanket. Your hands are barely hovering near her thighs, and revenge is on your mind. If she can toy with you, you can toy with her.
So you hold her spread legs, grip them firmly just as you hear her answer the call, "If you want to grovel, then go ahead and grovel. Just remember the last time." Jenna's voice is perfect for her character, and just as it's always been, full of attitude and feisty. She's passionate, especially when it comes to putting her acting on display.
Alright, 'mimic oral sex'... first it's kissing. Lightly placed, right at the top of her thigh, little pecks to tease and taunt. You feel the slight tremble beneath your fingertips as she attempts to carry on the faux conversation. They said you shouldn't touch her. They said she shouldn't touch you.
But you feel the heat coming from her. You're mere inches away, and sure, there's the cotton thin fabric of her underwear blocking the way, but even still you catch the barest hint of her scent—sweet and musky. You grip her thighs more intensely and press your lips against the fabric.
"It was one kiss," Jenna continues, and her voice betrays her now. A subtle tremor that undermines how put together she had seemed moments before. It's enough to have you smirking.
You roll your tongue over the shape of her through the fabric, testing your limits. There's only so much you can get away with, but you'll push it. Push it as far as you can, this is the bed she made.
Jenna rolls her hips towards you, and, of course, the cameras can't see this, all they can see is her on the bed holding the sheets and pretending to talk to her ex.
"It didn't mean anything..." She tries again and fails, a breathy moan forcing its way out and revealing the growing pleasure, the need growing in her voice. She has to place her free hand over her mouth as you continue to taste her, your tongue working over her panties with no hesitation, all rhythm and no breaks.
You continue, running the flat of your tongue over her, flattening the damp fabric against her cunt, and you feel her throbbing. It's undeniable, the way she tenses under your grip and shifts ever so slightly, each slight movement an obvious clue towards her struggling with maintaining her composure.
It's not difficult to hear the change in her voice. The shake and strain of each breath only grow worse the more your tongue curls against her panties. Sure, you haven't yet come into contact with bare skin, but simply knowing just how enraptured she is by the teasing, is enough.
You can't help the slight chuckle that follows, and why would you? This whole performance is starting to become very personal, and when you squeeze her thighs, and apply pressure until it's enough to bruise, you can hear the soft mewl as she fights her way through a rather passionate phone call.
"Why don't you just fuck off?" She hangs up the phone and throws it to the side. In a moment, the same hands are wrapping around your head and dragging you close. As if there was any space left to separate you. "Oh god yes!" she moans out—it's all the script. The scene is supposed to continue until there's a fade to black. No one needs to know that the moan is real.
At the very least, she tries to contain herself. Though her hips swaying, and bucking rhythmically against your face say something very different. And the heat radiating from her core is undeniable. The cotton of her underwear sticks to her so heavily, clinging to the slight folds and wrinkles. Enough to get a good idea about what's going on behind it. That there is indeed a welcoming, quivering cunt that might benefit from an enthusiastic tongue.
Jenna's groans take on a noticeable tempo. "Don't stop, don't you dare stop. Fuck. Yes!" Her words are spilling out messily. For a moment, her responsibilities seem to vanish. She's abandoned her character and resorted to feeling your tongue against her pussy with such ferocity that, were it not for your hands pinning her down, she might have suffocated you in that tantalising heat.
As the cameras continue to roll, with filming still going on above the sheets, the pace only grows hastier.
You're aware of your heart rate spiking, the sudden realisation, the knowledge that someone might be onto the two of you, that you've crossed the imaginary line that exists between the bedroom scene. With the flicker of your tongue, that line gets a little more blurred.
And Jenna seems to be in no hurry to stop either. What was supposed to be just acting becomes a carnal need. Her hips wriggle frantically against your gyrating mouth.
"Cut!" Comes the much-needed command, and you rip away from beneath the sheet.
Jenna's chest heaves, her thighs tremble and her toned stomach tenses. You struggle, forcing back the burning desire to claim her, devour her, kiss her senseless.
It's just acting.
-
Filming goes late into the night, as it so often does. Jenna has a series of scenes with the supporting cast, and you're only there to support them. Still, you make sure to keep watch from the sidelines. She's beautiful when she acts, all passion and fire. That's another reason you're so drawn to her. Everything is so easy for her, flawless. Talented little minx.
Hours after sunset, you stop by her trailer to check in, like you so often do.
You knock, and seconds later she peeks out of the door, saying, "What? What did I do now? Oh, it's you." The harsh greeting melts away into relief, and you grin at the reaction.
"Damn, maybe I'll go then." You make a gesture to turn away, and Jenna grabs your wrist and pulls you inside with all her strength.
"Are you stupid?"
"Me? No, the very definition of sanity." You laugh and follow her further inside. It's bigger than your own, with a seating area and everything. Not that you can focus on the surrounding amenities. Because her black, lace thong is the only thing she's wearing, and, for a second, it leaves you speechless. It's impossible not to stare at the way her round little butt perks out behind her.
Jenna asks, "Like what you see?"
"What happened to your clothes?"
"My clothes are fine, I'm in my trailer aren't I? Nothing strange about relaxing like this." She says as she saunters off, the golden curves of her back highlighted by the single lamp she has lit in the corner. She stands in her kitchenette, bare back to you, pouring herself a glass of red. Her thong contrasts starkly with the honey colour of her skin. She stretches an arm back, and half glances over her shoulder.
"I can feel you staring, you know?" Jenna says, pausing for a moment while the cogs turn in your brain. After a while, there's no point in resisting. So, you close the distance between you, stand behind her, and embrace her thin waist.
"Am I bothering you?" you question, pressing closer.
"Only a little," she leans back into the touch. "But that doesn't mean stop."
An unseen force guides you. Perhaps it's those thoughts that came to mind when you were holding her, on set. What would happen if you just got to know her better?
Your mouth feels so dry from the nerves, but you drag a hand up the length of her waist, over her taut stomach, before cupping her breast. Jenna closes her eyes and hums in response, and when your palm rubs against her bare nipple, her mouth falls open.
You sink to her ear and bite it gently while catching her nipple between two fingers, which elicits a sharp gasp from her lips. You pull her firmly against your chest, and her back presses to your shirt. Fingertips brush her belly, stroking from hipbone to ribcage.
"I figured we had a little unfinished business. Remember?" You kiss her earlobe and grin, fully aware she can't see the expression.
"It did seem to me like you were quite close to being finished," she teases. Your fingers curl and squeeze the swell of her breast, earning a groan. "Tell me. How was my performance?"
"Could use some work," you mumble, kissing the side of her neck. Jenna's breath shudders when your teeth drag against her throat. She sets the glass down, freeing her hand to rest on your forearm. Holding, or perhaps holding on, you can't tell. Either way, it's an invitation to keep going.
"You think so? Looked to me like it was the best performance you had ever seen—ahem—felt."
You chuckle in her ear. All the while, her breathing becomes a little heavier. She even reaches a hand back, curling fingers in your hair to make sure your mouth remains on her. It sends an alarm bell ringing in the back of your head, a warning, a red flag, a stop sign. But what if you don't?
"I'm not like my character," she whispers. "She's all romance, nice dates and lovey-dovey shit."
"No?" you whisper.
"No," she says sternly. She twists under your grasp to face you. Your hand lands on her hip, and before she's looking up at you with her lips parted, she murmurs, "But I do enjoy being eaten out."
This time, Jenna pulls you down into the kiss. The sweet pout of her lips draws you in. She tastes sharp, like the wine, but her mouth is warm and inviting. You take her bottom lip between your teeth, and she moans, her painted nails scraping through your hair. You feel her hands fumbling, then the thud as your pants fall.
"Fuck me," she breathes the command when your palm finds the swell of her breast again. She's pushing you back, guiding you across the room, pinning you onto the arm of her couch. She lifts her knees and presses it between your legs. She pins you there and continues to kiss you, harder, rougher.
She grabs the collar of your shirt, and then the buttons begin popping. The air brushes your chest making you even more aware of the insanity unfolding in her trailer. As she unravels the rest of the shirt, Jenna pulls back, standing up with a cocky smile on her face.
There's not a chance to speak, or even comprehend, for that matter. She puts her palm on your bare chest and forces you back. You crash into the cushions, and the next thing you know, Jenna swings a knee over your head.
In an instant, she's hooking her thong to the side, then taking a handful of your hair and sitting on your face. Your hands move automatically, gripping her thighs, pressing thumbs into the soft, ample flesh. Your tongue brushes across her pussy, and the feeling of your tongue flicking across her makes Jenna let out a beautiful, quivering moan.
Her scent intoxicates. It's divine.
With strong hands, she leads your movements, grinding forward against your mouth. Daring, unashamed, desperate. She's just as much an animal as she is a woman, and that realisation makes your body tense. You part her tender folds with your tongue and taste the warmth of her nectar, causing Jenna to keen.
Her cheeks grind against your lips as she quivers atop you. Her sighs alternate between delighted huffs and breathless moans. As long as you're licking, the sounds keep coming. If anything, they grow stronger and more desperate. She won't hold back, and it makes your head spin, your focus becoming a singular, dizzy blur.
Her juices coat your mouth, slicking your chin and running down your throat. She tightens her grip on your scalp as if trying to punish you. But really, her actions only draw you closer. The taste of her makes you drunk, and not the kind that comes with a hangover in the morning, no. But the kind that makes the rest of the world and its expectations dissolve, leaving just the two of you in the remaining silence.
Jenna's pussy is a beautiful thing, you realise. Swollen and dripping, deliciously wet. It's a tempting treat just begging to be toyed with. You tongue her clit, rolling it back and forth. When you get just the right spot, a tremor passes through Jenna's frame, a hard squeeze of your scalp, as though it had been scalding her.
"Fuck, so good," Jenna groans. "Keep going. Just like that."
More noises pour out of her and splash into your ears, exciting you in a way you've never been before. And the little shimmies she gives you aren't unpleasant, or unwelcome, far from it. Those subtle dances send waves through you and make the motions of your mouth automatic. Your tongue can't get enough. Neither can your hands. You bring them higher, taking her firm ass, sinking fingertips into her plush, round cheeks and pulling her onto your face.
The movement makes her laugh. "Look at you, so excited. Hungry, are we?" You stroke your tongue up the length of her glistening wet cunt, and Jenna twitches on top of you. Her delight returns, a cry of joy and want. "Go on, eat it. Eat that fucking pussy."
The muscles in her abdomen tighten. Sore and taught, every part of her shivers and shakes, twitching and fluttering with your movements. She cries out in ecstasy, as driven mad by your tongue as you are by her taste.
Her thighs clamp around your head. You can feel her begin to writhe, twisting left and right as the pleasure rages through her. She can't control her hips, keeping them glued to your mouth and twitching violently.
Jenna cums, and her juices flow into your mouth. You drink the reward of your handiwork, as her words become hazy murmurs. An erratic pattern of curses and blasphemous platitudes. As if singing all her highest praises.
When she stands, her legs wobble with the aftershocks of an orgasm, but her posture says there are still things she wants, things only you can give her.
It takes seconds. Jenna's thong is on the floor and then she's pulling at your waistband, tugging them down until she has your cock free. Her nails scratch along the length of your length and her palm settles around it.
"Fuck, you're so hard."
Jenna strokes your shaft and gives it a playful squeeze. You watch the heat shimmer and roll around in her eyes as she sizes you up, and the way your cock gives a stubborn and needy twitch. She seems to like that, too.
When her eyes go lidded and she lowers her head down, opening her mouth and slipping her tongue across the head, you almost can't comprehend how good it feels. Your spine tightens, everything goes rigid, and you're left without a shred of control over your voice. That seems to matter not at all to Jenna.
"Hold on," she slips the head of your cock between her lips, just barely, and smiles around it as she smears your precum across her tongue. Before she looks up, meeting your eye, and then forces her head down further, wrapping her warm, wet mouth around as much of you as she can manage. You both gasp as her tongue sweeps along the underside, and you see her cheeks puff out for a moment, then relax once she settles into a rhythm.
It feels amazing, un-fucking-real. Jenna is bobbing her head up and down. Blissful moans leave her with every pass, and the lust-fogged look she gives you should be illegal. Wet sucking and slurping fill the trailer, drowned out by her hums of adoration. Each one sends vibrations shuddering through your cock.
You thread your fingers in her hair. It's a token act, your control as she moves means nothing. In a blink, she's sucking the length of you down to the very base. She struggles a little when you hit the back of her throat, but pushes through, going again and again, deeper and harder each time. Tears threaten in the corners of her eyes. Still, she won't stop.
"Jenna," your voice is thick and strained. "I'm going to—"
A few more passes of her hungry, slippery mouth have you finally toppling over the edge. If she has any intention of pulling away, the temptation or aversion isn't potent enough for her to react. She kisses and slurps, bobbing feverishly, drinking your spurts of cum and caressing your length with her soft, swollen lips.
Jenna stays with you in her mouth, breathing heavily, the look of satisfaction on her face intense and perverse. She takes her time to gently nurse the last pulses from your erection until you're twitching and overstimulated. Only then, and after a minute longer, does she finally concede and pops her mouth off your cock.
The emptiness it creates feels too much like a loss, and yet, all you can do is stare at her, heart hammering and unable to feel anything past the aftermath.
Jenna perches herself on the coffee table, her legs pressed together and angled to the side, letting her hair fall over her bare shoulders. With one hand, she cleans her mouth and smiles at you.
"I guess this puts a line through unfinished business, huh?" She laughs a little. "Long day tomorrow, best get some sleep."
Then just like that, you're half-dressed, watching her slip off to the tiny bathroom to clean up. A few minutes later the trailer door swings shut, clicking behind you.
Outside, the night air is cool and bitter. It snatches the warmth away from the memory of her touch.
-
They're saying it's going to be a success. Critics have reviewed the project already, including early screenings, and private showings. The reception is very positive. That's great, you know it is, and everything is piling up and coming to a close now. All that's left is one last night, the premiere itself, the main event. This will determine the fate of the film, whether it's a runaway hit, a fantastic start to awards season, or a straight-to-streaming disaster.
"Been a while," the voice behind you says and you turn to see Jenna at your shoulder. She looks exquisite, elegant, and alluring in her gown.
"Understatement." You take the time to look her over again. It was only a couple of months ago you saw her naked and had her on your face. It feels so distant, and almost like a dream. Maybe it is, given how quickly she went cold afterwards.
"Red carpets aren't really my favourite thing. It's... all overrated, isn't it?" She sighs.
"Yeah, you told me."
"I did?"
"At the party, on the last day of shooting. You said, and I quote, 'I hate red carpets, everyone is so fake.'"
She rolls her eyes and laughs. "I must have been drunk."
"You were very drunk," you confirm. "Remember? And you were doing that thing with your foot."
Jenna tenses. "I did, didn't I?"
It was a few hours into the party, and most everyone was way too drunk to even make sense. You found yourself sitting down, trying to stop your head from spinning the way it was. Then she came and sat across from you. Apparently, she'd been drinking more than usual, given the wide-eyed look she had when she'd approached.
"You're handsome," she told you and flashed a drunken smile.
"You're drunk enough to say that to anyone."
"You're smart," she leaned closer, and even in the darkness of the room, you were mesmerised by the way her tanned skin contrasted with the tight, white dress. "You're talented. I'm glad they cast you." She runs her foot from your ankle, along the inside of your leg.
Her toes met your knee. You think you stopped breathing as she traced circles on your inner thigh. You looked up at her face, and she was smiling, a devilish one that said she knew exactly what she was doing.
"You smell so good. Like coffee and mint. It's infuriating." Her shoe slid higher, pressing against the crotch of your pants, and she frowned. "No reaction. Maybe you're shy? Oh, wait."
She pulled her foot back and then bent to the side to reach down under the table. After a few seconds and a few confused expressions, as she fiddled with something out of sight, her shoe fell to the floor. Jenna slid the sole of her bare foot between your legs.
"That's better, right?"
She sat up straight and clicked her tongue. You couldn't believe it. Barefoot, hair down, smouldering gaze and curling her toes against your crotch. It was a lot for you at the time. She smirked, shifting again and sipping a glass of champagne before putting it to the side.
"So, how has it been? This whole romance thing?" She stepped closer with her toes and her heel pressed over your cock, digging in slightly.
"I hated the idea of it. Didn't want any part of it. But being here with everyone has made me change my mind. I've done well."
She started to rub the underside of her foot faster, creating an overwhelming amount of friction. And her smug, smiling face wasn't helping your cause at all. Then she leaned closer, so her chest was bunched up and exposed. She teased the top of your cock with her toes and rested her chin in her hand.
"I think you just have to accept it. Learn to enjoy it. It helps that everyone was so nice to work with."
"Was I?" she asks with a flirtatious lilt, pressing her toes harder against your stiffening cock. "Was I particularly nice to you?"
You choke out a laugh. "You don't need me to tell you that you're nice to look at. But you don't need me to tell you you're more than a pretty face either."
"Do me a favour, undo your trousers."
Now? Really?
"Seriously? Here?" You're sure your voice was shaking.
"Now or never."
The pressure in your loins was undeniable, and you went to work unzipping and undoing buttons. Discreetly you pried them open and pulled down your underwear. Your cock sprung free, and you sighed in relief.
She rested a hand on your arm. It was surprisingly comforting. Then she pressed her foot down to angle your cock against her instep, slipping her soft, warm skin up and down your shaft, barely rocking it back and forth.
"That's better." She smiled sweetly, teasing the head with her toes. "You were nervous." She circled the tip of your cock with her big toe. "That first day of filming, you were so worried about messing up."
"Well, yeah. New role, new movie, no way of knowing."
"Hindsight is always 20:20, but you worry too much. Don't spend so much time thinking about what can go wrong, focus more on the things that can go right."
"Like this?"
"Like this," she grinned as she spoke. Her foot pressed harder and moved faster, stroking you up and down and you did everything you could to keep a straight face as people walked by. Each with an innocent conversation, unaware of what was going on beneath the table. "Besides, you did alright."
Alright. Not great. Not good. Alright.
It's about as much of a compliment on your work that Jenna has ever given you verbally, though you wondered if the foot on your cock is indicative of anything.
"Thank you. I, uh, appreciate the feedback."
"We make a good team." Her eyes narrowed as she focused on getting you off and her top lip stiffened. "Solving problems. Improvising scenes." Her foot kicked up a gear, in a blur, up and down, faster and faster.
"Jenna, I'm—"
"Great on-screen chemistry. Great off-scene chemistry." She pushed you right over the edge with her sole on the underside of your cock. The look on her face said it all. A smile so wide as she felt you twitch against her, throbbing, shaking, and pouring cum right over her skin. "Though you are rather easy to manipulate, aren't you?"
She shot you a wink as she cleaned her foot with a tissue. "See you around."
That image has been burned into your head for a long time since then, though you work to shake it out of there while walking the red carpet. It's all camera flashes and the chore of being paraded in front of them. You follow her lead, and she meets the press with the very embodiment of what they'd want—grace, charisma, flair and passion.
You answer a few basic questions that can't reveal anything interesting or new. Something about keeping the magic, and hopefully breaking it when you win a bunch of awards. Wouldn't that be nice?
"Where do you think this opportunity takes you after the film is released?" one interviewer asks.
"Obviously, any opportunity to work with other amazing talents is an honour. I don't know when, if, or what the offer will be, but I'm certainly happy to be working again."
"And if you had the opportunity to work with Miss Ortega again?" It's a question that she overhears, and she throws you a look over her shoulder.
You try not to stammer. "Of course, if I was fortunate enough, I'd take it. She's... unparalleled."
-
This has never been your favourite part, it might even be the worst. Sitting through your own premiere, watching your own work, it's like a long, self-aware nightmare. It's a natural reaction, but that's little consolation, particularly when you know what scene is coming next. It's some over-complicated form of torture to watch yourself get a handjob on the big screen. Everyone's watching. Including Jenna, sitting next to you.
This is the cavalcade of self-humiliation.
To your surprise, Jenna reaches over to slip her fingers between your own. It's the gentle and comforting squeeze that's accompanied by a sly smirk from her when you glance in her direction. Her eyelids lower and an undeniable tension builds between the two of you. She leans in to whisper to you.
"About last time..."
You smirk. "Am I supposed to know what you're talking about?"
"The ending was abrupt, don't you think?" Her teeth catch on her lip, and those sinful eyes narrow.
"A little."
"Follow me."
Jenna stands up without waiting for an answer. Being in the back corner of the screening makes it fairly easy to slip out after her. When you reach the corridor leading to the bathrooms, Jenna looks you over and smirks.
"Tell me," she laughs out the words as she brushes a few strands of hair out of her face and pins you against the wall, "How often do you think about that night in my trailer?" She pushes up onto her tip-toes, wraps an arm around the back of your neck and pulls your ear to her lips. "Don't lie to me, I know you've thought about it."
Her tone is a familiar temptation, and you've missed it. The sensual inflexion in her voice winds its way through every bone and tendon until it's there, inside and immersing you in the raw carnality that Jenna makes you feel. "All the time."
"Me too." She pulls on your wrist, leading you again and heading for the bathroom. You let her, and she pulls you into a cubicle with her, closing and locking the door behind you. "And how many times have you got off imagining it, picturing it." Her hands stroke along the front of your trousers, and the button pops open in her fingers. You don't even get to reply before she says, "Yeah, me too."
There's something perverse about hearing her say that. Something lewd in the way she smiles at you and peels down your trousers and underwear and instantly slumps to her knees. There's no teasing, no showmanship, nothing but blunt hunger, naked and fierce.
"You're beautiful," you whisper, and her eyes dart up, and her lips pause just as she's about to take you. Her hot breath spilling over the tip of your cock.
"Shut the fuck up," she laughs. Her gaze narrows. She sinks her wet, warm mouth down onto your length, swallowing it bit by bit. When the head touches the back of her throat, she giggles as her eyes water.
A moan involuntarily slips out. Your hips buck forward. Jenna's tongue is like velvet, rolling around the tip of your cock, then enveloping your shaft. You can't help the thrusting. It's automatic, primal, a natural response to being encased in her intoxicating mouth.
Jenna looks up at you, cheeks hollowed, eyes wide with anticipation. She pops her mouth off your swollen cock with a wet noise, and immediately, her fist closes around it, jerking you. She smiles. "Wanna do it?"
"That's how you're going to ask?" You scoff, leaning against the cubicle wall, a slight grin pulling at your mouth. "Is the art of seduction really that dead?"
"Well, forgive me if I don't quote poetry at you and cover myself in rose petals," she says as she climbs back to her feet and places her hand on your shoulders. She guides you to take a seat as she jokes, "Poetry bores the shit out of me."
It's almost too fast when her slim hands lift her dress up to her waist. She watches your face, her teeth pin her lip as she reaches down to hook her panties to the side. She slips a finger inside her already dripping pussy. You throb, hard as a rock, when her hand withdraws and she's reaching up and pressing the gleaming digit against your mouth.
You taste her wetness, licking your tongue against it. "Fuck," you growl, the urge to have her, devour her, ravage her takes you.
"You want it?" Jenna sways her hips and bites her lip. Her tight little body was made for sinning, it's plain and simple. You can't resist touching her, teasing your hands up the back of her thighs and around the ample curve of her ass, then pulling her onto your lap.
"Want it," you breathe the words against her lips. Her hand settles around the base of your cock and drags it across her slick pussy. She sighs into your mouth when your thumbs dig into her hips. That's an invitation to slide inside her.
Then you fill her. Her lips seal onto yours, her eyes flutter closed, and a sweet, deep, hungry sound of satisfaction leaves her. It's a sudden rush, everything about this situation, here and now, is a euphoric madness.
She looks incredible above you, her round, firm tits straining against the dress fabric, beads of sweat at the hollow of her collar and the heat in her eyes. Perched on top of you, Jenna rolls her hips forward, grinding against your lap, coiling that hot, wet flesh around your cock.
"God, your cock feels so fucking good," she gasps as she rides you, the way she moves her hips, the wild shifts and squeezes of her tight cunt around you bring the knot in your stomach already. You buck up into her and a ragged cry tears from Jenna's throat.
You seize her hair and kiss her, swallow her cries and moans, her gasps and whimpers, drink every little sound she makes and lose yourself in the rocking grind of her hips. You're both animalistic now. Her with her bouncing, grinding and needy fucking. You with your digging fingertips and the pounding of your crotch against her. It's filthy, it's unhinged.
"This might be the last time we—"
"Shut up," you interrupt.
"Last time we do this."
"Shut the fuck up," your hands dig into her waist, pulling her down and plunging your cock deep.
"Tell me," she says breathlessly, slamming her hips to meet your thrusts. "If we end this right here, is that good enough?"
"Fuck no," you hiss the words. You reach up to pull down her dress, prying her perky, bare breasts free and enveloping one in your mouth. Your tongue traces the nipple and you draw it in deeper. Jenna slows to a firm grind, holding your cock tight inside her before she snaps forward, locking her arms behind your head. You feel the shudder inside her, feel her clenching on you.
It's a deep, powerful moan, straight to your ears, as she cums. Pulling back and grabbing your face in her palms, forcing you to look right into her eyes. The blissful, fucked-senseless expression on her face is priceless, so is the dizzying, tightening feel of her cunt. Jenna collapses, huffing and panting, while you still hunger for more.
You pick her up and slam her against the cubicle door. It rocks under the impact. She giggles and takes a handful of your hair.
"Go on, fuck me. Like it's the only time you're ever going to get the chance."
So, you do. What more could you ever do? Is there anything more rational than drilling Jenna Ortega against a door in a movie theatre bathroom?
"Good, yeah," she wraps her legs around your waist and curls fingers in your hair. "You're getting there." She tilts her head and you claim the side of her throat, biting her neck. "If I tell you that you can cum inside, will you fuck me harder? Is that it?"
You groan into her neck, grip tightens, and you draw her body right to yours.
"If I tell you how badly I want to feel you cum, that it's driving me crazy, would that make it better?" She tightens her thighs around your waist and huffs out the words as though the effort is too much. "Go on. Do it."
The door rattles on its hinges, but you hardly even notice. Everything is her. Her body, her eyes, her voice, her. Your fingers lock around her waist, hold her tight while you pound her. The sweat-slick strands of her hair hang across her forehead, her skin glistens, and you're mesmerised by how good she looks while you fuck her.
You sink your teeth into her shoulder as you fill her. You lose control, twitching, and buried to the hilt, a groan into her skin as you twitch inside her. Cum spurts, your body shakes, her sex pulsates and clenches. She milks everything, and the next thing you know, you're falling back onto the seat, her collapsed on top of you and heaving. Gentle movements of her hips keep the sensations alive until you have nothing left to give her.
Overstimulation sets in quickly, her fingers slowly entwine with yours as you sag back against the seat, trembling and spent. The pair of you stay there, sweat-drenched, messy and grinning, sharing the tangle of soft noises in the silence.
"So, that was..."
"Pretty fucking good," she cuts you off. She rests her head against your shoulder, her hands settle on your arms, caressing you.
"That's what I would have said," you tell her, as you run your hand over her thigh and palm her ass.
"Damn. We might as well get married and drive off into the sunset." She laughs, and you chuckle with her.
"Or maybe we could just do this again sometime?" you ask with a slight grin.
She considers it. Pouting her lips and twitching them side to side. Her expression takes on a knowing edge, something mischievous as she looks you over and replies. "I'll see you around, maybe."
Now that...
That's just cruel.
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headkiss · 1 year ago
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I LOVE the idea of protective Hotch constantly having an eye out for younger bau!agent who’s literally sunshine personified and the complete opposite of him!! Do u think u could write something along the lines of that—maybe him protecting her from something or just their dynamic?
i also love protective hotch!!! tysm for the request i hope u like it baby :D | 1k of fluff, tw for a small burn!
You’d been surprised when you got a job at the BAU. You didn’t have that much faith in yourself at first. Not to say you don’t believe in your skills, but it’s a widely known part of the bureau. A lot of people wanted the job.
And then, there’s Agent Hotchner, unit chief and intimidating though you’re sure he doesn’t mean to be. You were insanely nervous at the beginning.
That was before you started, before the team welcomed you as the new media liaison after Agent Jareau became a profiler. You met Garcia and her collection of fun high heels, Reid and his never ending supply of facts, and you sort of fit right in.
Hotch became much less intimidating. A kind man who cares so deeply for his team that you couldn’t help but like him the way you do. Not to mention the dynamic that built between the two of you.
The small things he does for you that are impossible to ignore. A hand covering the edge of your desk to protect your head when you were searching underneath it for a dropped paper clip, the way he physically places himself between you and danger if he ever gets the chance.
He’s always there, protecting you in ways both big and little, and you enjoy it more than you should.
It’s even brighter on nights like tonight. Drinks and snacks at Penelope’s after a tough case. Nights when you get to call him Aaron instead of Hotch, when he smiles and laughs freely without restraint.
The beep of the oven cuts off yours and Garcia’s conversation, and when she shifts to take care of it, you stop her, “I got it! You’re already hosting, just relax a little.”
“Thank you,” she smiles, squeezing your arm as you walk by.
The smell of food in the oven hits your nose as you walk into the kitchen, humming along to whatever song spills through the speakers.
You pull the oven open, reaching in without thinking and touching the pan with your bare hand. You drop it quickly, metal clanking as it falls back onto the rack in the oven.
“Shit!” You say it loudly, and then, even louder, addressing the team in the next room, “I’m okay!”
They all laugh a little at your reassurance, and then, like they know he wouldn’t let anyone else check on you before him, pretty much every set of eyes in the room lands on Hotch.
He shakes his head and heads to the kitchen, because he would’ve gone either way.
“You okay?” He asks, finding you with an oven mitt on your non-burnt hand, reaching into the oven, and your burnt hand shaking by your side.
“Oh!” You set the pan of nachos on top of the stove and slip off the mitt, turning off the oven and looking at Hotch. “I forgot oven mitts were a thing for a second there. Burnt my hand, I think.”
He’s on you in a second, his hands gently grasping your injured arm, pushing back your sleeve and guiding you over to the sink. His hold is light, never bruising even though you know he has the strength to do so.
It’s the kiss of sunlight on skin.
Aaron turns on the sink, places his fingers under the water to make sure the temperature’s okay before guiding your hand under the stream.
“You still took out the nachos first?” He asks, even when he knows that’s what you’d do, because of course you’re worrying about everyone else before yourself.
“I didn’t want them to burn.”
You’re trying to be brave, though your hand hurts so much there are tears misting your eyes. You’re bouncing on your feet a little to try and deal with the pain.
“How bad does it hurt?” Hotch checks.
Aaron’s felt this sort of protectiveness over you ever since you started. A little younger than him, this ball of light that’s come bursting into his life. You’re always the positive one, even in the darkest situations and he can’t help but want to shield you to keep it that way.
There’s this thing in his chest that tugs and tugs when you’re around, that makes him stand next to you in any room, in front of you in darkness.
“It’s okay,” you say, though your voice cracks a little. “I’m sure you’ve seen much worse, Hotch.”
“Aaron,” he reminds you gently, “and you don’t have to pretend. It’s alright if it hurts, I just wanna help.”
The sink running mingles with the music coming from the next room, the background noise to your moment with him.
“You could bring the nachos out? I told Garcia I would, but we see how that turned out.”
“Okay, I'll bring them out.”
“Don’t forget oven mitts!”
He huffs with a smile, somehow always surprised with how easily you can turn something around. A smile on your face even with tears shining in your eyes and a hand that’s surely stinging.
Aaron carries the tray of nachos and drops them off, then turns to Penelope, “you have a first aid kit?”
“Oh my gosh! Yeah, bathroom cabinet, I can grab it.”
“It’s alright, Garcia. I’ll get it.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Don’t worry. Nothing major, I’m taking care of it.”
He grabs the first aid kit and heads back to the kitchen where you’re still holding your hand under the stream of water.
“Okay,” Aaron sets the kit down on the counter, opening it and then turning off the tap. “Let me see, honey.”
The word melts into you, sticky sweet, and you hold your hand towards him, palm up.
He starts by drying your hand with a piece of paper towel, pressing your skin lightly. His other hand is under yours, his palm against the back of your hand a painkiller in itself.
You hiss when he hits a sensitive spot, and he’s quick to apologize, his voice low and quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Almost done.”
“It’s okay, Aaron. It's not your fault I thought I was heat-proof.”
“You’re cute.”
A smile spreads over your face, your head tilted down to stare and his hands around yours. You watch him spread some Polysporin over your burn, his fingertips featherlight over your skin, soft apologies leaving him every time you flinch a little.
By the time he’s done, the first aid kit shut on the counter, you’ve both forgotten about the rest of the team in the next room. Aaron’s happy to bask in your sunshine.
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frownyalfred · 1 month ago
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Love the idea of Clark turning up to Gotham just for a little catch up with Bruce, only to be immediately followed by an entourage, most of them guys with a similar build to Bruce and Jason. They let him know that no ones going to bother him and that if he needs anything to let them know and they'll get it for him.
One of them looks suspiciously similar to the guy in the GPD wanted poster they've just walked past but that's neither here nor there.
"You wanna fuck with the Bat's bird, you gotta go through me."
Clark pushed his glasses back up his nose, trying not to visibly react. With the man's back to him, it was easier to get away with an imperfect facial expression, but he still didn't want to tempt fate. "That's -- that's really kind of you, sir. But I'm not really a bird--"
"Oh, and you're gonna be a tough guy about it all of a sudden?" the other thug asked, directing the question at the large man standing in front of Clark. "What happened to fuck the Bat, he fucked up my cousin? Huh?"
The man protecting Clark shrugged with one meaty shoulder. "Don't mean I think his bird should get fucked up too."
"We're not gonna fuck him up," the other man said. He smiled at Clark, nicotine-stained teeth shown off in the low light. "We're just gonna scare him a little bit, yeah? Just so the Bat comes and says hey."
"That's an objectively terrible idea," Clark said. The words came before he could stop them, hanging on the edge of Superman's authoritative tone. "You're just going to get hurt."
"Maybe this time," the thug said, lifting the bat back up onto his shoulder. "Maybe this time, we change things. Throw him off his rhythm. Since we got his bird, and all."
Clark would've rolled his eyes if he wasn't distantly concerned on behalf of all of them. "I'm not sure Batman is worried about me, to be honest."
The man standing in front of Clark craned his head back. "What, you have a fallin' out or something?"
"No," Clark said quickly, shaking his head. "No, I'm just saying -- I can take care of myself. The Bat won't worry, so you won't throw him off his rhythm. So you'll just get beat up again. Probably worse than before. And then I have to make a police report, and you'll be in the hospital--"
"Cripes, cool it with the threats," the man blocking Clark from the others said under his breath. He turned back around to face the group. "Beating up the bird ain't gonna help, you heard it from him."
"Not a bird," Clark protested.
The man with the bat and stained teeth pointed at Clark. "You better watch yourself out here. There ain't gonna be someone to swoop in and save your ass every time."
"And there ain't gonna be a missing Bat every time you say stupid ass shit like that," the man protecting Clark said, shaking his head. "Get the fuck outta here, Leo. You're a fucking joke, you corncob."
Leo and his buddies retreated quickly, and, after a gruff, if oddly charming, exchange, so did Clark's would-be protector. Clark waited a few minutes, just to make sure they were out of earshot, before craning his head up at the shadowed ledge of the building above the alley.
"Bird?" Clark asked loudly.
Batman stared back, the only sign of his amusement a brief flash of white teeth between his lips. For Bruce, it was nearly the equivalent of a full-on belly laugh.
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kentosblkgf · 1 year ago
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Miguel O'hara W/ camgirl!gf
Cw: mentioned masturbation, heavy overstimulation, clit slapping, size kink, and consensual recording. Pls let me know if i missed anything<333.
Miguel never saw a problem with what you did for work. Being the boyfriend of a camgirl had its perks, he thought it was great that you could work from home while he was away all the time, while always finding ways to pleasure yourself. He was all about you. You were the only thing he thought about when he went to work and while he was at work, doing tough missions. Guess what he thought about? You.
Being away from you wasn’t something he enjoyed at all. Miguel had become clingy when you two first started dating. Always wanting to be around you, provided him a different level of comfort he never thought he would know. You are just so perfect for him that he couldn’t even put the words flowing through his head in a proper sentence. He was truly lovesick. Miguel would do anything for you because he adored you. Even giving you gifts for your little cam shows.
His personal favorite was the dildo that he got molded of his cock. The shape, color, and size all matched him. He loved watching you use it on yourself, it was like a little reward for when he was away from home.
He is so in love with you it is ridiculous, so when you asked him to help you film a video… why would he say no to his precious girlfriend? “Miguel please”
Whimpering was all he could hear, you trying to push back onto his fingers.
“Hush baby, be patient.”
“How can I when you’re being so mean to me?” You pout so beautifully. Miguel made you so wet, just the slightest touch to your clit and you were already dripping gallons.
You had your ass in the air right in his smug face. His fingers slapping at your clit causing you to lose your arch.
“M’not mean baby, don’t act out just because the camera is on. Be good for me.”
You were about to cum, his words just being enough. So rugged and breathy, his deep voice not helping at all.
Miguel is finally giving you what you want, rubbing tight circles on your cunt, but you were greedy and needed more than what he was giving you.
“Miguel please, more.”
You whined.
“Todo lo que haces es rogar." (All you do is beg.)
Miguel has had enough of you being a whiny annoying brat. So he’ll give you what you want like he always does, maybe that’s why you’re so spoiled now. Practically throwing a fit while he was fingers deep inside of you.
“¿Has terminado? ¿Quieres más? Te daré más.”( Are you done? You want more? I’ll give you more.)
Without pressing on further, Miguel rises to his knees pushing down on your back and pulling at your hair so that your head is risen higher.
“Look at yourself.”
Jerking your head closer to the camera that reflected the smutty scene. You both looked so good together, him pressing against you with his wide shoulders and those bleeding red eyes.
Truth be told. You couldn’t handle him at all, he was too much for you. Too big, Too thick, just too… Miguel.
But Jesus fuck did he need to hurry it up.
It’s as if Miguel could hear your thoughts because he wasted no time, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it against your cunt. You could feel how warm he was against you practically already feeling him inside you. You were never able to fully take Miguel's size without a huge amount of prepping, but you were rushing him to fuck you.
He's sliding his other hand that was not busy rubbing his cock against your cunt against your sensitive clit. Rubbing soft circles watching your reaction in the camera lens.
"You gonna take it?"
It sounded like he was mocking you, he most definitely was.
"Promise."
That promise was all he needed to hear before he slowly pushed his aching tip inside of you. It was an angry red color, leaking heaps of precum as soon as he had pushed inside.
You already felt so full, but you didn't want to let Miguel down. You promised you could take him, take all of him.
"Deeper."
Since when was his girl so demanding, you promised him you could take it, and who is he to doubt you? If you say you can then he'll give you everything he has to give. He pushes his hip forward pressing your ass to his hips. He's so deep inside of you, that you can feel him in your throat.
"Mig- oh fuck wait."
"Don't be a liar baby."
letting out small thrusts between each word. Hushing you with his words. The time felt like it slowed as you felt his thick cock dragging against your walls. Miguel was unnecessarily big, he had always been tough for you to take. It was even harder now that you had minimal prep you could feel his tip hitting deep inside of you.
Your heavy moans were echoing throughout the room combined with his breathy grunts. You were just so wet, the 'shlick' of your cunt dragging against him was the loudest thing in the room.
Miguel's hands were on your waist pushing you back against him, trying to make you take him deeper if that was even possible. His thrusts were starting to become harsher and harsher with every push and pull of your hips.
He loved to look at you like this, slutted out and stuffed with cock that was too big for you to even handle. You took him like a champ so why would he complain? That's just not what he wanted. He wanted you crying and trying to run from the onslaught of his thrusts. He wanted you shaking and crying beneath him, begging him to ease up maybe even try the slow him down yourself by placing your hands on his stomach trying to push him away.
He would get what he wanted regardless. Let me show you.
Miguel's grip on you tightens as he pulls out of you. You're already whining as you feel empty without him inside of you.
"Hush baby." His voice was so thick with want.
He's tossing you onto your back placing his hands on your thick thighs and pushing his thumbs into the little crevice behind your knee. Pushing your legs so far back your knees reach eye level on the sides of your head before you can even blink.
"Hold your legs." Fuck.
He had put you in a mating press. One of the most dangerous positions between you two. You already knew what was coming.
"Mig- hold on. let me breathe.." you whisper to him, this position always had you in tears.
"No baby, how about you hold up your end of the deal," he says as he slowly starts pushing into you again.
"Better keep that promise."
Miguel is already bottoming out inside of you before you can even respond with an attitude. His thrusts are heavy and mean just like him. Slamming and torturing the back of your thighs.
You can feel him deep inside of you, deeper than he was before. You were so tight and warm. He could feel you tightening around him. gripping onto him so tightly he can feel every pulse of your wet cunt.
"C'mon, baby."
he whispers into your ear as his hand rake along the sides of your thighs and tease your tits before resting on your throat, tightening his palm around it. Just enough to put you in a slight daze.
Your head tossed back letting out breathy moans as he kissed your neck. God, you looked so perfect like this. Taking his cock so well.
He's pushing into you roughly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.
"So good.."
It sounds like you are whining.
"You're fucking me so good."
Your cunt is clenching around him so fucking tightly as if you didn't want him to pull out of you at all. Your hearing is going blank just like your vision. Seeing white dots cloud your vision as your stomach starts tightening.
He's fucking you into the bed harshly over and over again, his mind just focusing on you.
"Open your eyes."
You're trying your hardest to obey him but the way he is hitting inside of you just right is knocking the breathe out of your lungs.
You need a moment of respite to just be able to breathe.
"Mig- uh.. wait." Why should he wait when you could give him what he wanted?
"Open." His voice was loud and demanding.
His thrusts are getting deeper… Harsher with each word. Like he's trying to get you not to do what he is asking of you.
You force your eyes open, tears dripping down your face, fuck do you look so pretty to him. Your pretty pussy speaking so loudly to him. You're going to cum soon. He can feel it with the way you're gripping his arms, leaving the engravings of your fingernails on his tan skin.
His hand moves up to raise your head closer to his face, bringing you into a kiss, licking at your lower lip, tugging and pulling at it with his teeth. He's moaning heavily into your mouth.
The kiss drew you in just enough or you to cum. You're wriggling against him trying to tug your face away from his. Miguel's hand grips onto your face tighter whimpering into your mouth.
"Cum baby."
He's pleading for you to cum.
So you do. Letting go of the tight grip you had on him. Your legs straightened out, pushing against his chest. You're shaking as you gush around him, your body squeezing shut altogether. Can't do anything but let out open-mouthed silent moans as you can't find it in yourself to open your vocal cords and let out any audible noise. Fuck do you look good trying to get away from him only after one orgasm.
Maybe now is not the best time to be asking you questions as you seem to not be in the same universe as him. Miguel smacks your face lighting trying to bring you back down from an incredible high.
"Come back to me, c'mon."
He's waiting patiently still deep inside of you, keeping himself from moving.
"M'gonna move okay?"
You shakily nod your head agreeing with anything he is saying right now.
He pulls out of you slowly, trying not to disturb your moment of clarity.
"Where's your toy baby?" He's getting up and opening the drawers looking for his favorite toy of yours.
You don't answer him as you roll over and check the camera. No blinking red light.
This cannot be fucking happening… You didn't even click record.
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porcalinecunt · 2 months ago
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Hear me out: Jason todd with a pathetic fem criminal/thief he loves to play with involving gunplay
- heart anon ❤
𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘!
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🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 you couldn’t be a decent criminal for shit, so much so, the red hood himself has rather ulterior motives . . .
⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD X FEM! READER
° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — rough sex, semi public, slight gunplay, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, breeding, jason being a bully :<
[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ i kinda hate this lol, sorry if my writing falls off towards the end. i haven’t touched this draft in MONTHS [sobs]
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“i-i won’t hesitate!”
“yeah..threatening the guy with the ak-47..”
he scoffs, barely clutching onto the military grade weapon as if he knows you’d miss every last one of your shots from the tiny pistol you held. your shakey hands were already such a dead giveaway.
petite, timid and easy to snap in two. that’s enough to have the red hood himself laughing at your pathetic attempts to intimidate him. he almost wondered how Black Mask’s goons allowed you through just to grab a nice stash of hard drugs, most likely to sell for a ridiculous price.
“look little girl, put the pistol down and i’ll make it easier for ya. don’t gotta act all tough on me..” the barrel of the rifle faced the floor, clearly he doesn’t wish to waste a bullet on your airheaded self.
there’s my chance! you thought to yourself, rushing past the vigilante and booking it to the stairwell. a grin stretched your lips, how easy was that? and he’s meant to be the best!
as if red hood heard your thoughts, the larger figure dropped down from the ceiling right in front of you with an ear shattering thud! stopping dead in your tracks, you threw a hasty punch that was easily blocked before red hood yanked you by the wrist and threw you onto the wall next to you. not even a second went by before you felt his build press against your smaller figure. trapped.
“h-hey! let me go you prick!” you whined and pouted, trying to push your way out with no success. he didn’t even feel like another man, more like a wall.
amidst the struggle, you heard a small chuckle before the red hood succumbed to laughter. he was fucking laughing, at you. angry, you weakly elbowed him in the rib which did next to nothing. it only earned you another wheeze and chuckles from the hooded bastard.
“awe, what’s the matter? can’t fight back? is this your first crime girl?”
you looked back with an angry pout, his white eyes that were basically holes in that bulky helmet of his narrowed in amusement. an expression that admittedly, gave you a case of butterflies. the way he taunted you, laughed at you, even looked at you. fuck, you wondered if he was seeing anyone outside of fighting crime.
your facial expression must’ve shifted, as the masked vigilante tilted his head. “got something to say to me, little girl?”
his eyes widened a little after saying that, probably because of the way you began to press against his own body. whether you knew it or not, you’re practically arching, pressing your ass against his crotch. it really didn’t help that you were wearing a tight one piece that showed off every curve and shape of your figure.
it didn’t take long before red hood picked up on your intentional eye fucking, backing up to allow enough space for him to grab your hips and roam around your body. the red hood was a greedy one, grabbing and squeezing every bit of flesh he felt on you until he finally found your breasts. his hand alone covered the whole thing, that’s how huge he was. a sudden and rather harsh squeeze made you jump.
"don't be rough!" you whined as the crime lord gently massaged the sore flesh, only to give it another squeeze and forcing a yelp out of your throat. "you're mean..!"
"awe, am i? thought you were a big girl with that prissy attitude and the gaul to act all tough with me.." jason cooed in a mocking tone. even through the material of your bodysuit, you could feel him growing harder and harder against your ass. your stomach was in knots from the sheer length of this man, yet you never fessed up as his fingers found the zipper hidden in the fabric. . . .
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you couldn't make a noise, not with jason's huge palm over your slobbering mouth while his cock pistons in and out of your ruined cunt. two orgasms ripped out of you yet he refuses to stop for even a breath, or to take off that stupid helmet.
"c'mon..i know you got another in ya." he grunted, smacking your left thigh which was covered in hand prints from the earlier rounds. you weren't wrong when you called him mean earlier, the way he discarded your bodysuit to him throwing you against different surfaces like a ragdoll. now, he has you over the stair railing while he brutally fucks you from behind.
your knees buckled from the pressure as you clung onto the dirty railing for dear life, the skin on your ass a bright red from his hips slamming against it. you turned your head slightly to meet those white eyes that bore themselves into your brain, how you wish he just took it off to see who's actually fucking you mid failed heist. stupidly, you reached out behind to try and pry even a little, only for a gun cocking to startle you frozen.
"fuck you think you're doing? thought you were slick huh.."
a breathy chuckle followed, as you heard the subtle clicks of the gun inching closer and closer to your ear until the barrel was pressed right below your jaw. you didn’t know if it was fear or arousal, but nonetheless, the next thing you knew was your stuffed cunt clenching around jason’s girth like a vice.
“ohh..you like this, do you?” he started, caressing the gun against your bruised skin. the cold outer was a sharp yet welcoming contrast to the hot air that suffocated you beneath his weight. you mewled in response, practically strangling his cock the harder you clenched.
the vigilante picked up his pace, groaning in your ear as he pointed the firearm below your jaw as if you were a hostage. a strangled moan echoed throughout the stairs and your knees buckled, prompting jason to wrap an arm around your waist.
“m’gonna..m’gonna cum..please..” you sighed, screwing your eyes shut as the knot in your stomach grew tighter and tighter.
“cum f’me girl…don’t fuck this up too..” jason chuckled from the mean jab as his dick twitched against your cervix. before you could respond to his passive aggressive remark, you’re vision went white as a sudden wave of heat filled your ruined pussy. your vision blurred as jason fucked his cum deep into your cunt, not allowing a drop to slip out.
“atta girl..maybe you aren’t as stupid as i thought..”
jason tapped the gun against your thigh as he continues to move his hips against yours, not caring about the fact you could barley hold on at this point.
another round wouldn’t hurt, especially with the antics you’ve pulled today.
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© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.
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spatialwave · 6 months ago
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"𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓻"
pairing: pre-war cooper howard x fem!reader word count: 3k summary: you hadn’t expected to see a celebrity at your nephews birthday party, let alone america’s most recognizable cowboy star. luck seemed to be on your side when cooper howard’s attention landed right on you. warnings: mdni! smut, age difference, cooper eats you out!
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you and your older sister had a sour relationship, you hadn’t quite agreed with her husband’s fixation with capitalizing on a nuclear fallout. he worked at vault-tech, some entry-level position with a promise of greater things. after a few dinners of listening to him ramble about the vaults and trying to convince you to buy your place in one, you decided to distance yourself.
but your six-year old nephew had stolen your heart since he was a newborn. you would do anything for him, even if it meant sucking up your pride and going to visit your sister for his birthday.
knowing that he was a little aspiring cowboy, you showed up dressed to impress—meaning denim jeans, cowboy boots, a button down blouse and cowboy hat. you had expected enthusiasm from the other adults, but you were greeted with them all in their sunday’s best. 
this was going to be a long saturday afternoon.
you were sitting inside your sister’s house, having kept yourself away from the partygoers as you picked at the hot dog on your paper plate. a birthday delicacy.
just as you were about to call it a day and make haste for the door, you heard the sound of kids yelling excitedly outside where the party had migrated. you hadn’t been told that there was entertainment and curiosity bubbled inside you. a little peak would hurt.
just as you reached the backyard, standing up on the white-painted porch, your eyes landed on the man sitting atop a horse with a lasso spinning effortlessly around his body. of course your sister managed to hire an actual cowboy.
with a smirk on your lips, you watched with a tiny smile—eyes growing wide when you recognized the face hidden behind the hat. 
that was fucking cooper howard.
you felt your heart skip a beat as you stepped toward the staircase, looking over the sea of parents and children as the movie star put on a beautiful display of his talents. you had heard the news stories from women gossiping in your workplace, how cooper howard was going through a tough divorce with his wife… who worked for vault-tech.
it then made sense how your brother-in-law scored this gig.
speculating wasn’t going to do you any good, and you likely weren’t going to get any answers, so you pushed thoughts of cooper’s personal life out of your head and instead admired him. who cared why he was there? you were happy to be within the same vicinity as the handsome man. he was just as beautiful in-person as he was on the television screen, big pearly whites shining as he smiled.
then, his brown eyes met yours, even over the crowd of people that he could let his gaze linger on. you felt your body shiver as you both shared a long stare, feeling vulnerable under his eyes and missing it when he instead looked down at a young boy that was cheering for him.
with red cheeks and a giddy smile on your lips, you kept watching, unable to look away. even after he’d gotten off the horse and helped a few children sit atop and take them for a short little walk around the backyard.
cooper was good with the children, you found yourself unable to look away and making little mental notes of what kind of man he was. so far, he was kind, gentle and humble.
before you could indulge any further, your sister sprung up in your line of sight and left you huffy.
“would you be a darling and go into bruce’s car to get donny’s present?” she asked so sweetly, “he wanted to keep it as hidden as possible.”
“i was enjoying the show,” you grumbled, watching as cooper had started to wrap up after taking a few photos with your nephew and a handful of the other kids.
“oh, hush. here.” your sister shoved the vehicle keys into your hand, “just leave the present inside, we’ll be there in a few minutes once the entertainment is gone.”
you hadn’t even gotten the energy to call your sister out for labelling cooper as just ‘entertainment’. you just let out a sigh and followed her orders, grabbing the present out from the convertible and placing it neatly on the large stack of presents on the kitchen island.
your small gift bag was starting to look shameful compared to some of the large, wrapped boxes.
“christ,” you muttered to yourself as you let out a defeated breath.
you made way for the front door, digging in the pockets of your jeans and retrieving a cigarette as you stepped foot onto the front porch. just as you lit it and moved down the short stairs, you glanced ahead and were greeted by none other than cooper howard walking across the large driveway.
“miss,” he smiled at you out of courtesy, giving a nod of acknowledgement as he continued to lead his horse past you and toward the trailer hooked up behind his vehicle.
“hello,” you murmured, exhaling smoke from your lungs as you watched him with wide eyes—starstruck. after a few moments of watching him you mustered up the courage to follow behind him, though doing your best not to disturb the horse and get a prompt kick in the head, “mr. howard?”
the older man looked over his shoulder, hands busy guiding his horse as he stopped just outside the trailer. 
“hm?” he hummed, turning slowly to face you, that charismatic smile on his lips, “please, just call me cooper,” his voice drawled with a thick southern accent, “what can i do for a pretty cowgirl, such as yourself?”
you felt your cheeks warm up at his words, wondering if he was flirting or just being overly kind. you hadn’t met a ton of celebrities in your day, so you hadn’t the slightest clue.
“oh, i’m not a cowgirl,” you laughed softly, looking down at your outfit and then back up to cooper, “it’s my nephew’s birthday and i suppose i took the dress nice requirement the wrong way.” you managed to make cooper chuckle, a grin forming along his lips as he tied off his horse to the trailer and able to give you much of his attention. 
“well, if i got to choose, you’re definitely the best dressed today. you had me convinced that you’d be coming for my job,” he poked fun at you.
cooper howard had always been a faithful man, but barb’s betrayal was something he’d never be able to forgive. he was also a man with needs, so when a young woman approached him with a naive look in her eyes, he couldn’t help but pounce at the opportunity for some flirting. it helped with his ego, at least, having slowly deflated after needing to take on these entertainment gigs just to pay alimony to his ex-wife.
it wasn’t fair that she’d manage to take most of his assets, the money, the home—full custody of janey with very little visitation. it was brutal, but he was making it work. he’d be having the weekend with his daughter soon enough.
he could be content with you right now, in fact, he desperately needed the distraction.
“if it makes you feel better i can’t even ride a horse,” you said through a giggle, “i won’t be coming for your job anytime soon.”
a breathy laugh came from cooper as he settled a hand on his hip, “that’s reassuring,” he smiled with thinned lips, “you’d certainly take away attention from me.”
there it was again, was he flirting with you? was cooper howard actually flirting with you?
“i don’t know about that,” you spoke quietly, flicking off the build up of ash on the cigarette you hadn’t been smoking, “sorry, i’ll let you get all packed up. i’m sure you’re a busy man. i just wanted to let you know that i’m a big fan of your movies,” you tried so hard to keep a calm and cool composure, “you’re, uh… a great actor.”
“why, that’s very kind of you, miss,” cooper kept a smile on his lips as he looked over you, brushing his hands off on his brown corduroy pants and clearing his throat, “would you happen to have an extra cigarette i may be able to take off your hands? i seem to have left mine at home.”
you nodded, reaching for the pack in your pocket so you could pull one out and pass it to the older man, a smile breaking on your lips when his fingers brushed against yours.
“thank you,” he said smoothly, eyes flickering to follow your hands as you pulled out a lighter for him. he leaned forward with the cigarette between his lips, meeting your gaze as the flame lit it nicely and smoke bellowed from his lips, “you are a lifesaver, darlin’, i’m usually more prepared than this.”
“it’s no worries at all, my pleasure. really.” you took a step back from him, cheeks burning hot as you shoved the lighter back into your pocket and butted out the cigarette you had completely neglected.
“how about i treat you for a drink sometime,” he spoke, tilting his head curiously, “it’s only fair, don’t you think?”
cooper was more than satisfied to see the way you had looked so surprised, your eyes widening and lips curving into a small smile. somewhere deep inside, he knew this was wrong. you were a young thing, not much older than a university graduate, if that. cooper? well, he was at least twenty years your senior.
then, he remembered, it’s not like he had anyone but himself to please. his ex-wife had managed to get his reputation buried so deep that he couldn’t book anymore gigs, hell, not even a lousy commercial. his agent would be letting him go soon, too, he knew it.
there was nothing to lose here.
“a drink?” you questioned, “like a date?”
you were so damn endearing.
honestly, you were convinced that something had happened at your nephew’s birthday. maybe you had walked too close to the horse, and it did end up giving you a swift kick to the head. everything happening was just your wildest dreams as you lay in a hospital in the deepest of comas. it was easier to than believing you were actually sitting with cooper howard in a darkened bar, a place much too expensive for you, but you supposed these were the perks of being famous.
you sat in a velvet covered seat right at the long bar, one leg crossed over the other in an attempt to make yourself feel like you were fancy enough to belong here. you were just thankful that you had a friend who was a seamstress, able to turn a long, frumpy black dress into something that hugged your curves.
it wasn’t every day a movie star asked you out.
“what do you do for work?” cooper leaned his elbow against the bar top, a cigarette in his left hand and glass of whiskey in the other, “other than being a professional cowgirl, of course.” 
“i’m just finishing up the last bit of my schooling,” you replied, pulling the martini glass from your lips where a layer of red lipstick marked the glass—your second drink, “going to be a nurse.”
“now, that’s a very commendable line of work,” cooper straightened up, setting down his now empty glass full of half-melted ice, “i’m certain you’ll get a lot of joy out of savin’ peoples lives.”
“i hope so,” you smiled, quite proud of your career choices, “i mean, it’s no movie star, though.”
cooper let out a low laugh, dropping his gaze for a moment as he put out his cigarette in an ashtray, “let me just tell you that being a movie star isn’t all it’s made out to be,” he spoke through a breathy chuckle.
you furrowed your brows slightly, chewing on your bottom lips as you watched him. well, at least he was a modest man. “why aren’t you in movies anymore?” you bit the bullet with your question, “i haven’t seen you in anything new since you started doing the ads for vault-tech.”
a heavy breath escaped cooper’s nostrils as he met your eyes, his smile gone, “you see, that’s a can of worms we oughta’ keep shut, if you don’t mind.”
“i’m sorry,” you were filled with immense regret, seeing the discomfort on coopers face, “i’ve been told i’m too nosy for my own good.”
“no, don’t apologize, darlin’. how were you supposed to know without asking?” cooper reassured you, reaching forward to place his hand on your bare knee, peaking out from the provocative slit that went up the length of your dress, “maybe someday i’ll share.”
you felt your heart skip a beat when his calloused hand rested over the smooth skin of your leg, sending shivers up your spine and making you wonder just where this night would lead. a sheepish laugh escaped your lips as you toyed with the toothpick in your martini, punctured through an olive, “someday? i wasn’t expecting a second date.”
“you weren’t?” cooper grinned, god, you loved his smile, “i thought this was goin’ well.”
“maybe if i have a third drink in me i’ll be more inclined to go on that second date with you,” you teased, thankful for the courage the drinks were giving you.
“why don’t i make you that third at my place? i can mix you up a better martini than here,” he squeezed your knee, his thumb brushing along your skin and all you could do was nod.
the third drink never came, but that was okay. with your lips parted and hands in cooper’s hair, you could care less about a dirty martini when his face was buried between your thighs and your dress pushed up to your hips. you’d always been a lucky girl, but nothing would ever top this.
“oh,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair as his tongue lapped against your folds, the tip flicking against your swollen, sensitive clit, “just like that,” you cooed, your head falling back against the cushion as you closed your eyes and focused on nothing except the pleasure flowing through you. 
cooper had long forgotten the worries that tried to rot his mind because for once in months he felt something, a warmth in his stomach—hope. even as war loomed overhead and life seemed dire, you had walked into his life. someone fun, a pretty girl who could keep his troubles away for a night.
his hands gripped at your outer thighs, fingers digging into your skin as he ate you out with the expertise he’d gained throughout the years. quickly learning what made you moan and squirm under his touch.
“fuck,” you cried out, whimpering as your thighs pressed against the sides of his head as you neared climax, “i’m going to cum.”
“no one’s stopping you, angel,” he breathed warmly against your cunt, one hand pulling from your thigh so he could press a digit inside you and coax out sweet sounds from your lips. he pulled back as a second finger joined in, his mouth and chin glistening from your juices, “show me those pretty eyes of yours.”
you were quick to listen, using your strength to lift your head up and look down at cooper. he looked glorious with tousled hair and pink cheeks, fingers fucking you with a practiced touch. 
you locked your eyes on him as you breathed heavily through pouted lips. “cooper,” you whined loudly when his thumb made quick circles over your clit and bringing you closer to the edge, fingers tugging on his hair as your back arched and the coil inside your stomach released.
your voice cracked as you said his name, a cry of pleasure coming deep from your throat as you came. you pulsed and contracted around his fingers, hips vibrating as he didn’t let up, not in the slightest. he wanted to see how your face twisted with pleasure when you became overstimulated, grinning as you grabbed at his hands in an attempt to slow his movements. 
he listened, his fingers coming to a stop and soon pulling out from you as his lips pressed chaste kisses to your inner thighs while you fell back into the sofa and let out a shaky sigh.
“i have to be dreaming,” you breathed out, hardly able to keep your eyes open as you felt cooper shift so he could sit up and crawl over your body.
“too good to be true?” cooper questioned with a teasing tone, holding himself above you as you pressed your hands to his cheeks.
“very much so,” you smiled, your breath evening out, “cooper, i think you should rest back and let me do some work now,” you hummed as you pressed a hand to his chest and began to push him until he was resting against the arm of the sofa.
cooper showed a toothy, lopsided grin as he watched with intrigue glimmering in his eyes, happily looking you up and down as you moved from your spot on the couch until you were kneeling on the carpeted floor in front of him, “you really don’t need to,” he said, though, he was only being polite. he wouldn’t say no to this.
“aw, come on, cooper,” you whispered, your hands on his clothed thighs, slowly moving up until they could tackle his belt buckle, “it’s only fair.”
“shit,” cooper hissed, eyes fluttering shut as he felt your hands free his erection from the confines of his suit pants.
he certainly hoped for a second date.
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syluslnd · 5 days ago
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thank u for ur brilliant writing 🫰 can u do one where reader has a stomach and is self conscious about it and avoids when he tries to wrap his arms around her stomach or similar stuff like that?
when you’re insecure about the size of your stomach
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You were curled up on the couch, half-focused on the show playing on the screen but mostly lost in thought. It was a cozy evening, the kind you both loved, just the quiet murmur of voices on the TV and the warmth of being together at home.
Suddenly, you felt the cushion dip beside you and you turned just in time to see Sylus settling in. He slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer in one smooth, effortless motion.
Before you could stop yourself, your hand flew to his, instinctively pushing his arm away. He let go, his eyes widening slightly as he looked at you in surprise.
There was a moment of silence, and the air felt suddenly heavy, caught somewhere between confusion and embarrassment. You could feel your cheeks heating up as you tried to stammer out an explanation. “I-I didn’t mean to—sorry, I just… I wasn’t expecting…”
He didn’t say a word at first, just looking at you with that steady gaze of his. Then, a small smirk crept onto his lips as he leaned back, folding his arms over his chest.
“You’re adorable, you know that?” he said, the gentle tease in his voice softening his words.
You blinked, feeling even more flustered. “What do you mean?”
He raised an eyebrow, giving you a look that told you he knew exactly what was going through your mind. “Come on, kitten. You think I haven’t noticed how you shy away when I go for your waist? Or the way you tense up when I hold you close?”
You felt a lump in your throat as his words sank in. He knew. He knew and for a second, you wanted to just melt into the couch cushions, to hide from the way he looked at you—so understanding, so calm. You took a shaky breath, glancing down. “I… I just… I feel like my stomach’s too… big.”
The words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable. You barely dared to look up at him but when you did, there was a warmth in his eyes that wrapped around you as surely as any embrace.
Sylus chuckled softly, reaching out again but this time his touch was gentle, his fingers just barely grazing your side. “Sweetie” he murmured, his voice dropping to that tone he only used when he really wanted you to listen. “I don’t care if you’ve got a flat stomach or if you’re the size of a hippo. It’s all just more to love.”
You felt a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “A hippo?”
He shrugged, that teasing smirk lighting up his face. “What? Hippos are pretty cute, if you ask me.” He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “Besides, I like having a little more of you to hold onto.”
Your cheeks went hot, and you let out a small laugh, finally relaxing as his arms found their way back around your waist. This time, you didn’t push him away. Instead, you let yourself sink into his embrace, resting your head against his shoulder.
“Thank you” you murmured, your voice quiet but sincere.
He squeezed you a little tighter, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. “Anytime, kitten” he whispered, a soft chuckle following. “Though I’ll admit, it’s kind of fun seeing you all flustered. You’re so cute when you try to act tough.”
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, here you are, all cuddled up with me” he teased, pulling you even closer.
You both settled into the quiet again, but this time it was warm and comfortable, filled with the unspoken promise that no matter what, he would love you exactly as you were—no matter what you saw in the mirror.
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renardiererin · 1 year ago
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rintarou suna would let you talk him into getting a dick piercing. “rin cmon, just try. if you hate it so much you can always just remove it and let it close up.” he’s used to giving people piercings and tattoos all around for a little extra side cash (my tattoo artist suna smutshot), so he has little hesitancy when instructing you on how to put the prince albert piercing through the tip of his cock. but little doesn’t mean none. “baby it’s gonna hurt.” rintarou seems like he’s a tough guy. one who next to never complains about pain— but that is so far beyond the truth. he whines about every little thing, simply because he has no problem being obnoxious around you. you’ll love him anyway. so when he whines about how painful it’s gonna be, all you can do is laugh at his childish antics. he’ll furrow his brows together and push out his bottom lip slightly more, making himself look like the epitome of a whiner.
“baby it’ll hurt so bad, i’m gonna need you to kiss it better. you’ll kiss it better, right princess?”
“it hurts, honey, whenever you bring it up it reminds me it’s there and then it’s sore again.”
“i don’t even want to wear clothes, the thought of even underwear sounds so painful baby”
but once it’s been just two days and he’s forgotten about the initial pain, he’ll be buried balls deep in your tight little cunny, cool metal hitting the spongey spot deep in there that your fingers alone could never reach. the way the second bulb of metal peeks out from underneath the tip gives you added stimulation as it drags through your heated walls, bringing you closer and closer.
“y’know, sweets, i think i like this little cock piercing you talked me into. makes you scream, and i like when you’re loud for me.”
what may have stated as a half joking test ended in rintarou suna having a new second favorite piercing. though, nothing can beat the reactions you give him for the metal ball on his mid-tongue.
quick a/n: guys i’m so determined to leave my flop era this summer bc school gets out for me in like two weeks so i’m gonna hopefully be able to flood you all with content!! it’s 10am and i haven’t slept a WINK so here’s some dick piercing suna brain rot bc i need him so bad
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jxwl4k · 3 months ago
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Secret Crush
Plot: Bakugou has a secret crush on Y/N, a healer. After she helps him, Kirishima pushes him to confess his feelings, leading to a new connection between them.
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Bakugou Katsuki was known for his explosive personality and fierce determination. But beneath his tough exterior, there was a softer side that only a few people had glimpsed. One person who had unknowingly captured this softer side was Y/N. Y/N was a calm and sweet person whose quirk was like a blessing. She could heal both herself and others, no matter how serious the injury.
The students of U.A. High School admired Y/N for her kindness and healing abilities, and she had a natural way of soothing people. Bakugou, who usually kept to himself, found himself drawn to Y/N. He admired her from afar, never quite able to figure out how to express his feelings. To him, she was like a quiet light in the midst of chaos.
One day, during a training session, Bakugou accidentally injured his arm during a particularly intense exercise. As usual, he tried to brush off the pain, but it was clear he was struggling. Y/N noticed his discomfort from across the room and approached him with a gentle smile.
“Let me help,” Y/N said softly.
Bakugou grunted in response but reluctantly extended his injured arm. As Y/N placed her hands over the wound, a warm glow emanated from her, and the pain seemed to melt away. Bakugou stared at her, a mix of embarrassment and gratitude in his eyes.
Kirishima Eijiro, Bakugou’s close friend, watched the exchange with growing curiosity. He had always been observant of his friends, and it wasn’t lost on him how Bakugou’s usual gruff demeanor seemed to soften around Y/N. Kirishima decided to dig a little deeper, not entirely sure what he would find but certain there was more to Bakugou’s feelings than met the eye.
Later that day, Kirishima cornered Bakugou in the common area of the dorms. “Hey, Bakugou,” he said casually, “you seemed pretty into Y/N today. Everything alright?”
Bakugou, caught off guard, scowled. “What are you talking about? I just needed my arm fixed. Nothing more.”
Kirishima raised an eyebrow, not buying Bakugou’s tough act. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. It’s not just about her healing you. You’ve got a thing for her, don’t you?”
Bakugou’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he growled in frustration. “Shut up, shitty hair! It’s not like that. I—” He trailed off, unable to find the right words to express himself.
Kirishima chuckled. “You don’t need to admit it to me. It’s pretty clear that you care about her. Just, maybe try not to be so hard on yourself. If you like her, maybe you should let her know.”
Bakugou huffed but seemed to ponder Kirishima’s words. The next day, during another training session, he found himself once again in need of Y/N’s help. As she healed him, he gathered the courage to speak up.
“Y/N,” he began awkwardly, “I, uh, I just wanted to say thanks. For everything. You’re…you’re really amazing.”
Y/N looked at him with a warm smile. “You don’t need to thank me, Bakugou. I’m just happy to help.”
Bakugou’s heart raced, and he finally managed to admit, “I don’t just mean thanks for the healing. I… I really appreciate you. More than you might know.”
Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise and delight. “Bakugou, I didn’t know you felt that way.”
Bakugou shrugged, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m not very good at this.”
Y/N smiled even wider. “That’s okay. I’m glad you told me.”
From that day on, things between Bakugou and Y/N began to change. They started spending more time together, and Bakugou found himself slowly opening up more. Kirishima watched with a grin, glad to see his friend finally letting his softer side shine through. And while Bakugou and Y/N’s journey was just beginning, it was clear that something special was growing between them, thanks to the gentle healing touch of a kind-hearted hero and the unexpected feelings of a stubborn, explosive one.
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theemporium · 20 days ago
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random wee quinn blurb i wrote instead of doing uni work! enjoy!🤠
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When it came to being a captain, Quinn Hughes fit the role perfectly.
He was committed to the team and to the sport, his hockey IQ was through the roof and he was a beloved member of the team. He wasn’t loud or demanding, he was the kind of guy that would sit back and observe and notice the little things that would help make the team better. He was the kind of guy that led his team to the playoffs, despite the doubts pushed against him for being named captain. 
Quinn Hughes was the kind of guy who could voice exactly what he wanted, what he expected and what he wanted to achieve. On the ice. 
Off the ice? Not so much.
His brothers liked to joke it was emotional constipation and, truthfully, Quinn didn’t think they were far off. It was different on the ice, he felt like he was in his element and he was in control and he knew what to expect. But opening up about his feelings otherwise? It was just more of a struggle.
The boys on the team made constant remarks that it was surprising Quinn even managed to ask you out in the first place. But where he lacked expressing his feelings in words, he showed in other ways. 
Which was how this whole mess started. 
The first gift was waiting for you in the lobby of your apartment complex when you came back from work. The receptionist handed it to you with a smile, waving you off as you carried the box upstairs and ripped it open the second you were through the door. 
It was a hoodie, one you had been eyeing for a while but had been a little too expensive for you to justify buying on a whim. There was a note in the box too, nothing overly romantic or affectionate. Just a sweet ‘you’ll look so pretty in this –Q’ that made you beam nonetheless. 
You had made sure to slip it on before your next call with Quinn, eager to watch his face light up when he noticed you wearing his gift. You just didn't realise it would kickstart a new obsession for the boy to send you gifts on a whim.
The gifts continued to pour in, no matter how much you insisted to Quinn that they were unnecessary. He would wave you off, mutter something about not even getting that much, just purchasing things that reminded him of you. You gave up on the argument every time because Quinn was too sweet and earnest to disagree with otherwise. 
But it was relentless. One package would be clothes, the next would be a nice perfume, and the next would be some jewellery. There were flowers and gift baskets and candles and decorative pillows. Some of them were things you needed or had been meaning to purchase yourself, others were just thoughtful things that Quinn knew you would like but never treat yourself to.
At some point, Quinn had started to send a few to your workplace, just when he knew you had been having a tough week or knew you would need to have it handed to you directly. Which was how your coworkers had caught wind of the situation. 
“When you said you had a boyfriend, I didn’t realise you meant a sugar daddy,” one of them had joked as she stopped by your office, watching the way you were grinning down at the little message that came with the necklace—laughing to yourself over Quinn’s rambles about choosing the perfect necklace for you. 
“What?” You laughed, your brows furrowed in confusion. “He’s not my sugar daddy, he just likes giving gifts.” 
Your coworker raised their brows. “That is quite literally what a sugar daddy is.”
You didn’t even get a chance to respond before they wandered off, leaving you reeling and picking apart that single thought for the rest of the day until you were able to go home. Quinn was already home, having arrived an hour or so before you. This had been one of the longer roadies of the season and the boy was practically beaming by the time you walked through the door. 
“Hey, babe—”
“Are you trying to be a sugar daddy?” 
Quinn paused, his arms falling to his side as he stood in front of you with a discombobulated look on his face. “What?” 
“I just mean–” You paused, your brows furrowing together. “I don’t want you to become a sugar daddy, if that’s what you are worried about. I like you for you…as my boyfriend.” 
“Okay?” Quinn answered, his confusion still clearly written across his face. “I’m sorry, did I miss something? Is there meant to be a punchline or something?” 
“No, it’s just…you’ve been sending a lot of gifts,” you said with a sheepish shrug.
Quinn frowned. “Do you not like them?” 
“No, no, baby, I do,” you quickly corrected, taking a step towards him on instinct. “But I don’t want you to feel like you need to send me them.”
“I know that, I just…” Quinn trailed off, his brows furrowing a little as he tried to string his thoughts together. “I love you. And I don’t say it a lot and sometimes I don’t know how to.”
Your expression softened. “Quinn.”
“I just want to tell you and if I can’t tell you, I show you,” he managed to blurt out, his cheeks tinted pink as he spoke. “I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable or anything. And I don’t want to be your sugar daddy.” He paused for a second. “I don’t think I’m old enough to be one.”
You snorted. “I don’t think there’s an age requirement.” 
Quinn’s lips twitched upwards. “I just like getting you stuff.” 
“I like the stuff you get me too,” you murmured, a little shy as you finally closed the distance between you both. “Although, we need to talk about boundaries because the lingerie to my workplace was stressful. I felt like a criminal trying to sneak that box to my car without anyone noticing.”
“Yeah,” Quinn winced a little, feeling his face heat up more. “There was a mix up with addresses. Sorry about that.” 
“Uh huh,” you grinned, leaning forward so you could press a kiss to his cheek before your lips ghosted over his ear. “I did look really good in it though.”
Quinn swallowed harshly. “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you grinned. “Wanna see?” 
You couldn’t even hold back your laugh as Quinn began tugging you towards the bedroom, eager and impatient.
.
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samkerrworshipper · 10 months ago
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warmed - mapi leon x reader
just r cockwarming mapi.. not much more to it lol
ik i keep promising yall angst… its coming… at some stage
warnings: smut 18+
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You’re overstimulated.
To the point where your skin is beginning to itch with the want and need that is pooling up in the pit of your stomach, right where you feel so full and so empty at the same time.
You fucked up, you were well aware of it, it wasn’t like you could make up for it now.
This though, this was so rewarding and unrewarding at the same time, you were stuffed full to the very brim which was perfect, but also so unfulfilling at the same time.
“Keep still or we start over.”
Mapi’s words are a brutal reminder of exactly what position you are in, crammed down against her lap, ass flush to her hips whilst you try your very hardest not to grind or jostle against her.
An hour and thirty minutes.
That’s how long you’ve been sitting in Mapi’s lap like this, no pleasure, no release, no relief.
The two of you had to rewatch your game from yesterday anyways, so Maria had set you the task of staying still whilst she analysed the match against Levante.
You were supposed to be analysing it as well, but it was kind of hard to pay attention when you were filled to the brim with 7 inches of silicone cock.
You wished Maria had given you the easy way out, wished she’d spanked you or edged you or done something else that would make you feel something besides mellowed out pressure.
“Maria.”
Your words are whined out for the room to hear, not that there is anybody else in your company.
“Eyes on the screen, carino.”
Your eyes struggle to obey her command, your pupils stuck to your naked bottom half that’s unmoving.
“I won’t say it again, eyes on the screen unless you want a spanking once we’re done.”
Your eyes snap up, what you want once this is done is for Mapi to fuck you senseless, you aren’t sure if you can handle another minute with her just idly sitting inside you.
“Eight more minutes princesa, you think you can hold up for me until then?”
You groan at her, you want to say no, but the words can’t make it past your lips, Maria seems to understand though.
“Tough luck, make it through the eight minutes or else you won’t cum for the rest of the week. I’m sick of your shit attitude and bratty fucking mouth, you have to learn some way.”
Mapi’s voice is gritty, you know that she wanted nothing more than to come back from dinner, cuddle up on the couch and watch the game replay before the two of you went to bed together.
She wanted soft, sweet, tender.
You wanted mean, rough and hard.
You supposed this was the halfway point, it was Maria’s way of punishing you without giving in to what you wanted.
You’d been obtusely bratty and cheeky.
The two of you had been invited out for dinner with Alexia and Olga, a little quaint double date to a cute boutique Italian restaurant in Barcelona’s core.
It was nice, everything had been going well, until you’d made the decision to start teasing Mapi.
It had started with a hand on her exposed thigh, then your fingers drawing patterns up and down, pushing her skirt out of the way as you paved a path through to her panties.
You were out of your mind thinking Mapi would let it slide, she told you as much when she leant over to your ear telling you not to push her. You’d blatantly ignored her, continuing your attempts at one upping the defender. You got as far as the inside edge of her panties before her hand was grabbing yours and shoving it into your lap with a look of so much annoyance that you knew you were in deep shit.
Now you were here, sitting practically speared on her dick, your juices leakingout all over her thighs and your own.
You watched the clock run down, your eyes aimlessly following the ball as it was passed from side to side on the pitch.
Your legs were aching from the position you were being held in, your thighs being put to use to keep you from moving.
“Maria, please.”
You knew that most likely, your begging was going to be pointless, normally Mapi couldn’t of cared less, but it was worth a shot.
“Say one more word and you’ll see just how much worse this can get for you.”
You close your lips, your eyes staying laser focused on the screen as the clock ticks down on the game.
The last thirty seconds are possibly the worst, your legs start to burn and everything is so much more painful.
As soon as the final whistle blows on the game Mapi is turning you around, so you are now face to face with the Spaniard.
“This is how it’s going to go, we’re going to go to bed, I’m going to fuck you how I like, until I’m satisfied, you won’t cum, you won’t move unless you’re told, all you are here for is to be my little slut for my pleasure, not your own, comprendida?”
You can’t do anything beyond nodding your head.
Mapi picks you up with ease, lifting you up and taking you straight to the bedroom.
Just the feeling of her cock jolting inside of you every few seconds has you moaning, Mapi doesn’t care, all she cares about is getting you to where she wants you.
She manhandles and roughouses you onto the bed, pushing you up against the pillows and spreading your legs open before beginning to move inside of you.
Mapi’s pace is nowhere near fast or rigorous enough to satisfy you, when she said that she was searching for her own pleasure you didn’t realise that she would quite literally use your body as a vessel for her orgasm.
There is no doubt in your mind that Mapi has the little vibe insert tucked into the strap.
Her thrusts into you are shallow, hitting none of the spots that you need her to.
It’s crazily unpleasurable, and yet you don’t find yourself minding too much, especially not when Maria is the picture of perfection, her messy bun bopping up and down, her moans echoing out across the room.
You focus on Mapi, completely syncing out of your own mind, trying to imagine how Mapi is feeling.
You know that your supposed ‘punishment’ would have gotten her worked up, whether she wanted to admit it or not.
She’s chasing a built up desire, deep pure pleasure thrumming through her lower limbs.
Maria isn’t a overly loud lover, but you can tell just by the way her eyebrows are scrunched up and her pupils are blown that she is teetering somewhere on the edge, you aren’t quite sure where she’s at until her legs spasm and her whole body jerks.
Mapi cums hard and fast, her body thrusting into yours until the after effects of her orgasm have managed to rid her body and she pulls out.
You feel emptier than you ever have, most likely a result of being stuffed full for hours on end.
Mapi makes quick work of removing the strap, once she does she lies herself down on the bed next to you, letting you breathe through the big feelings that you are experiencing.
“How are you feeling, princesa?”
Mapi’s hands are on your face, twisting the strays hairs out of your face and gently playing with them between her fingers.
“Good, just need a second.”
Your legs feel heavier than a hundred bricks, numb and weighed down to the point where you genuinely wonder whether they’ll be in use tomorrow.
“You want to cum? I think you’ve earned it, you were such a good little girl for me, princesa.”
You do want your own orgasm, you think that your cunt will implode if it doesn’t get to experience some relief, but you need a few minutes to recover from the last hours happenings.
“Just gimme a minute, seeing you like that made me think and feel things I never had.”
Mapi’s smirk was cheeky, cavalier and slightly proud.
“Mm, next time it’ll have to be three hours, hmm? I wonder how crazy that would make you.”
You shake your head at the suggestion immediately, an hour and a half had been pushing it, 3 hours was simply ridiculous.
“How about I promise to never be a brat again?”
Mapi rolls her eyes, her mouth reaching down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.
“We both know that would be a lie, carino. You’re my bratty girl and I wouldn’t dare have you any other way. Now how about we go get clean in the shower and I let you get off on my thigh, hm? You’ve been good but not good enough to deserve my mouth or fingers, you’ll have to work your way up to that.”
You nod eagerly at Maria, already willing your legs to begin moving so that Mapi can’t take back what she’s just said to you.
When Mapi realises that you need some assistance, she picks you up, gently carrying you towards the bathroom.
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inuyashaluver · 8 months ago
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hello! can i request an enemies to lovers fic for misa?!?! i absolutely love your fics and theres barely any fics about her so i thought why not
change of heart - misa rodriguez
misa rodriguez x reader
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description: in which your relationship with your ultimate enemy takes a turn when she helps you through a tough time
warnings: it’s a long one buckle in, swearing, fighting, suggestive, spanish in bold italics
a/n: finally misa!!! thank you for the love and support, babe, please enjoy!! ❤️
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
maría isabel rodriguez rivero, or misa if you will, was the bane of your existence. she was ill-tempered, absolutely insufferable when you couldn’t get a ball past her, arrogant and more. she was also gorgeous but you’d never say it out loud.
you couldn’t understand misa and she couldn’t understand you, the two of you just didn’t get along.
you were on the same team always, but it always felt like a competition between the two of you. sure you were a midfielder and she was a goalkeeper but that didn’t mean the hate didn’t stem.
it’s always been like that, especially in the spanish youth teams, you had the ability to push misa’s buttons in a way she couldn’t explain and vice versa. there was never a pivotal moment where the hatred began but you both knew it steadily developed as you got older.
“misa, we’re just training, calm down!” a 16 year old you screamed when she dove for your strike, a harsh smack sounding as she caught it.
“we may be training but that doesn’t mean we get lazy, chiquitín (small one)” misa smirked, kicking a long ball way past you. you send her a glare, cursing her under your breath as you went to retrieve the ball.
by the time you got back, she was doing her keeper duties, but with much less intensity, clearly only going full out when you were the one kicking the ball.
“i thought we shouldn’t get lazy, misa?” you teased, cocking your head to the side and offering her a cheeky grin that made her blood boil.
“fuck off, lay it on me then” she challenged angrily, everyone could feel the tension between the two of you but chose to watch in amusement. this happened every two minutes on the daily and everyone was so used to it.
“i fucking will” you bite back, striking the ball before she had time to think and sending it dangerously close to her face, sailing past her into the back of the net. “no, you’re a cheater, i wasn’t ready,” misa barked, you shrug at her
“you don’t get time to prepare for your little tea party in a match, rodriguez” you taunt, that’s when misa lost it. she walked over to you, standing chest to chest as she glared down at you, you could feel her anger bubbling in your entire body as your eyes challenged hers.
“listen here, princesa (princess), this little attitude of yours is a bad look” she said lowly with mock sympathy. she was clearly trying to rile you up, and sure, maybe you should ignore it but you couldn’t with this girl, no matter how hard you tried.
“my attitude? your fucking ego is the only thing that enjoys a solo performance more than you do” you scoff, she smirks amusingly, moving her face dangerously close to yours as you swallowed hard.
her scent was enveloping you, it was crazy how good she smelled after a training session but you squashed that thought down quickly.
she chose to just keep her face close to yours, her eyes boring into yours while that fucking smirk was plastered on her face.
she looked down at your lips, chuckled and moved past you, letting you stand there with slightly pink cheeks. must be from the heat.
for years the snarky remarks continued, tension rose and stemmed the basis of you and misa’s weird relationship. in reality, something else was growing under the surface. attraction.
you both played together in the under 19 spain team and your fellow teammates could all agree that both of you managed to hate each other even more, believing it was physically impossible but you and misa were always overachievers.
“move” misa grumbles as you were talking with ona, shoving you towards the girl, making you stumble before you snap your head towards misa. “you’re such a treat” you glare at her, ona makes quick work of helping you stand after she giggled at the two of you.
misa watches as you stand, making her grin and blow you an exaggerated air kiss. “always such a pleasure to see you” she mocks, you roll your eyes at her and she smiles satisfied, moving to change into her kit in her cubby.
you hate to admit that your eyes lingered on the girl as she changed, the muscles in her back rippling against her skin when she tugged on her keeper kit.
you were distracted, not even processing that aitana had joined your conversation, coming back to life when she sends you a sharp smack on the back of your head.
“ow! what the fuck?” you yelp, turning to a grinning aitana and ona, misa’s head followed the sound of your voice, her eyebrows furrowed thinking you were in pain.
“welcome to earth” aitana smirks, you huff out in frustration and urge her to continue the conversation, your eyes flickering over to see that misa was already watching you.
“can i help you, rodriguez?” you call out, she shakes her head, “nope”, flipping you off before walking out of the room. your eyes followed her as she walked out, feeling a little disappointed when she was gone.
well, you were disappointed until training started. “come on, is that all you’ve got?” misa taunted, her signature smirk that pissed you off like no tomorrow evident on her face as she caught the fifth ball you’d sent her way.
“you never change, we’re practising!” you huff, hands stationary on your hips as you glared at her, “you never change, you’re lazy” misa teases, you close your eyes in frustration, taking a deep breath as she laughed at you.
“you’re so fucking annoying, misa!” you groan, “don’t be mad, princesa (princess), you’ll get one past me eventually” she throws you a thumbs up with her gloves, you send her a charming smile, kicking the ball hard way over the goal, making her send you a glare when she had to go and get it.
“you give into her every time” ona chuckles, her arm thrown over your shoulder. when misa came back and saw ona holding you close, a funny feeling brewed in her stomach, she wanted to be like that with you, but you hated her. and she hated you.
you and misa got signed to real madrid at the same time and it was purely unintentional. when you both came to training for the first time, you swore you had a heart attack seeing her in the kit.
“you just cannot get enough of me” misa says in mock disbelief, trying really hard not to laugh at your face right now, you were shocked.
“what the fuck are you doing here?” you exhale, watching as misa chuckled at you. “i play for madrid now” she starts, “you look nice,” smiling before tugging the bottom of your training top quickly before moving past you.
your cheeks instantly turned pink, mouth a little agape as she smiled at you over her shoulder, making sure you had to open the door yourself.
the first game you and misa played for madrid changed something slightly between the two of you. the tension between you two finally acknowledged a little when you got a hatrick.
at the end of the game, you felt a hand on your shoulder spinning you around as you did your appreciation lap, “always so greedy, you just had to get three goals?” misa teased, you roll your eyes amusingly, her hand still on your shoulder.
“i was imagining you as the keeper” you smirk, she laughs at that, “you wish” you laugh along with her, both of you with gentle smiles on your faces before you realised what was happening.
you were bantering without any malice, that was a first.
the months went by and slowly you and misa got closer? that’s not the right term but it kinda was. the two of you were more or less a little more friendly, mainly through moments that people on the outside viewed as normal but very different for you and misa.
for instance, misa would make an effort to help you out occasionally. helping you out on your tracker as you pathetically tried to yourself.
“you’re embarrassing yourself” misa laughs, grabbing your hips to hold you still, your breath hitched as you felt her fingers on your skin, you were burning.
she takes the tracker from your hands and slips it in the back of your training top, lightly tapping it with her hand before pulling your top down for you.
“i had it” you breathe out, “mhm, sure you did” she winks, placing a hand on your waist before moving past you. you stood there a little dumbfounded, that was nice, and why did you like the feeling of her hands on your skin?
during that training session, she analysed your every move, misa came to terms with having different feelings about you. they were always there of course, but it was different now when she finally accepted them.
you as well couldn’t keep your eyes off misa, often making eye contact with each other before you ripped your gaze away, afraid she’d see how red your face got when she caught you staring. but she did see it, and she loved it.
during shooting practice, misa let you get three goals past her and it pissed you off. “why are you going easy on me?” you exclaim, misa holds her hands up in front of her with a little laugh, “i’d never take it easy on you,” you narrow your eyes at her unconvinced, kicking the ball softly and watching as it rolled in the net, slowly, misa just watched as it moved past her.
“rodriguez, what the fuck!” you throw your arms up, misa laughs brightly, “you’re too good for me now, miss madrid!” she teased, you run your hands over your face, shaking your head.
you walk off to grab some water and misa came up shortly behind you, you wordlessly passed her water bottle to her and her eyes widen a little at the gesture, “thanks” she smiles quickly, her hands brushing yours as she took it, feeling a little jolt of electricity between both of you.
everything changed rapidly when you and misa played in the senior team for spain. as soon as the two of you didn’t come in like a thunder strike of an argument, the team was genuinely surprised.
they noticed the complete shift when both of you were starting and unfortunately, your team lost 3-2 in a final. you hadn’t managed to get a goal and you blamed yourself for the whole thing.
you fell to the ground when the final whistle blew, lying on your back with your arm over your eyes as tears rolled down your cheeks.
you weren’t there for long, you felt your body being pulled to an upright position and you let whoever it was do it. you sniffled and looked down at your legs before a gentle hand hooked under your chin and gently directed it upwards.
your eyes met with misa and it made you cry a little more, her heart broke at the sight of you, she’d never seen you cry before. she places a hand on the back of your head and pulled you close to her, tucking your face into her shoulder as you cried.
both of you said nothing, letting yourself melt into misa’s body as everything else tuned out. her other hand rubbed up and down your back, your arms eventually wound around her neck, pulling her closer as she rested her head against yours.
“you played so well,” misa cooed, dismissing all the questioning looks sent by your own teammates, misa only cared about one person and that was you.
“i wasn’t good enough” you mumble against her shirt, misa shook her head, “you’re always good enough, hermosa (beautiful), always” misa said in your ear, her hand on your back now moving in gentle circles as she drew you impossibly closer.
“we lost” you whined, misa tutted at that, “it doesn’t matter, we’ll get them next time” you pull away from her slightly, at arms length.
she smiles at you softly, her hand leaving your head to push a stray hair from your eyes before gently wiping the tears falling on your cheeks. the gesture was so intimate, your stomach was fluttering.
“who are you and what have you done with my misa?” you let out a wet laugh, she laughs along with you, pinching your cheek gently as you both sat on the ground.
“your misa?” she teases, you freeze up a little at that, attempting to pull yourself away from her embrace but she kept you close, pulling you into another hug.
“you’re okay” she breathes out, comforting you as you both conversed quietly back and forth, misa helping you calm down completely before helping you to the change room.
she holds out both of her hands with a friendly smile, you blink up at her and take them both, allowing her to lift you from the ground.
that’s when alexia and jenni came over and began to comfort you, your hands dropping from misa’s and instantly missing the contact.
she went around talking to your teammates as you all slowly filtered into the change room, celebrations still occurring in the change room despite the loss.
you sat quietly in your cubby, misa watched you concerned when you just sat there but she didn’t want to push you anymore.
you all made it back to your hotel, separate rooms for the first time in a while. you collapsed on the bed with an exhausted sigh, starting up at the ceiling while the tv gently filled the atmosphere.
at this point, all you could think about was misa, she was completely clouding up every thought in your head.
your body moving on its own, you walked to the door, swinging it open and letting out a little noise of surprise seeing misa on the other side already. you both clutched your chests in fear, breathing heavily at the fright you gave each other.
“sorry, were you going somewhere?” misa utters, you shook your head, “i was going to your room” you say a little sheepishly, misa’s never heard your voice so soft, especially directed to her.
“oh” she breathes out, you shift your weight between your feet, “do you want to come in?” you swallow, misa nods slowly, moving inside the room and closing the door behind her.
“i just wanted to check up on you” misa admitted, scratching the back of her neck bashfully.
your heart was beating so fast, you nervously glance up at misa before looking back down, trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible. you could feel her eyes burning into your side profile, trying to see what your next move would be.
you clear your throat before sitting on the bed, your legs swinging over the edge, misa smiled at the sight, you looked adorable, she felt like she could see your younger self that she admired so much shining through.
she moved to sit next to you, her thigh slightly brushing yours as she sat down. “i feel bad, but i’ll be okay” you sigh, looking over to see her smiling sympathetically, she places a gentle hand on your knee.
“hermosa (beautiful), you played amazing, i really mean that,” she says earnestly, her hand gently squeezing your knee as she maintains eye contact with you.
you smile sadly at her, “so did you” she grins, “i let three go past me” you shake your head, “it doesn’t matter, misa, you played amazing as usual” her cheeks go a little pink at your compliment, “what have you done with my (y/n)” she mocks, bumping your shoulder with hers.
you laugh brightly, “your (y/n)?” you tease, but she just nods, “mhm, my (y/n)” her eyes flicker between your own, slightly dropping to your lips before catching herself and looking at her hand still resting on your knee, ready to move it away before you placed your hand over hers.
“misa” you breathe out, almost sounding like a plea as you looked at her, her heart caught in her throat, her eyes searching yours. she moved her hand to rest on your cheek, her thumb rubbing the skin there.
your eyes dropped to her lips and she took it as confirmation, closing the gap and placing her lips on yours. you gasp against her, your mouths moving together tenderly before she slipped her tongue in your mouth.
you weren’t sure how it happened but you ended up straddling her lap, both of you breathing heavily as the kiss grew a little hotter. she gently tugged at your bottom lip between her teeth and you whined into her, making her smirk lazily against your lips, squeezing the flesh of your waist as your hands carded through her hair.
you pull away in need of air, you and misa just looking at each other with pink cheeks and blown out pupils.
you pant as you look at her, smoothing down her hair with a giggle. “sorry” you smile, she smiles up at you adoringly, shaking her head lightly, “it’s okay” you keep your hands on her shoulders, your finger lightly grazing the exposed skin near her collar.
“you okay?” she whispers, the words hitting your lips, you nod, leaning forward to peck her lips sweetly, she smiles at you so brightly. “you okay?” you whisper back, she nods, bumping your nose with hers softly.
“if i told 16 year old (y/n) how good of a kisser you were, maybe she wouldn’t hate you as much” you tease, misa chuckles, pulling you in for another kiss, her hand cupping your jaw.
“if i told 16 year old misa all she had to do was kiss you to get you all sweet, i think she’d pass out” she teases back, you giggle, rolling your eyes fondly.
you tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, “you’re so beautiful” you say softly, “you’re more beautiful” she matches your energy, you both smile at each other sweetly.
“i like you, (y/n)” she looks right into your eyes as she says it, you offer her a cheesy grin, “i like you too” she mirrors your expression before pulling you into another kiss, becoming heated relatively quickly.
you pull away breathlessly making her huff in annoyance, “does this mean you’ll let me score against you?” you tease, she rolls her eyes with a laugh, “hm, maybe, bebé (baby)” she mumbles against your lips, pulling you back into the kiss.
when you both went to breakfast the next day and sat next to each other closely, you were offered wild looks of amusement.
“isn’t this a surprise” jenni laughed as her and alexia sat across the both of you. “what?” misa shrugged, “well you’re not fighting” alexia smiled, you rolled your eyes, arms crossing over your chest when you sat straight in your chair.
misa placed a hand on your thigh under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. “we don’t fight all the time” misa defended, alexia laughed at that, yelling at ona and aitana for backup that they promptly gave.
“we made up ages ago” you narrow your eyes at alexia, she crinkled her nose at you teasingly, making you bite back a smile.
“oh don’t worry, we know you made up” jenni laughed, looking down at her plate with a smirk as she ate, “and what do you mean by that, jennifer?” you bite back, misa smiled amusingly, loving your feisty side.
“well the hickey on your neck says everything to me” she said simply, your eyes widen and your hand flung to your neck quickly, jenni laughs heartily, making alexia giggle too.
misa puts her head in her hands out of embarrassment now that the whole team was looking at you with teasing grins.
“i thought i heard something interesting last night, misa definitely got (y/n)’s forgiveness with what i heard” jenni teases, you glare at her, misa was bright red, “stop it, jenni” misa grits out,
“okay, i will” jenni smirks, continuing to eat her food before mocking your voice, “oh, misa, don’t stop” you gasp at that, ready to leap over the table to tackle the girl to the floor before you were held back by misa, the girl holding you firmly on her lap.
“misa” you whine, “no,” she reprimands, making you slouch into her, “i’ve never seen her so obedient” alexia smirks, you turn bright red, misa matches her smirk, running her hands up and down the side of your waist, promptly calming you down.
you both sat there like that for a bit until you had to get on the bus back to the airport. you and misa sit together and you both can’t help but relish in the affection and domesticity of being together.
you were cuddling into misa as you both chatted, laughing brightly with each other that had the whole team grinning.
it was extremely different from watching the two of you at each other's throats to seeing you all loved up but it was a happy change for everyone. especially you and misa.
⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆
you know the drill, just pretend it’s you!!
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marisabel_rguez: who knew she was such a softie?
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yourname: fuck off
↳ marisabel_rguez: there she is!!
jennihermoso: i’ve learnt a lot of things about this one😉
↳ alexiaputellas: so have i
↳ marisabel_rguez: oh god, so have i
↳ yourname: stop it.
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hotwritergf · 6 months ago
Note
Bestfriend Reader in a skirt casually sitting on eddies lap and when she gets up/or maybe eddie realizes she left a wet patch on his leg
Bestfriend!Eddie gets cockwarmed. Eddie Munson x female reader. Smut. Blurb.
(I got so carried away here!! Thank you for this prompt<3)
Eddie’s trailer wasn’t the most spacious of places, but when he offered to have movie night there rather than the Harrington mansion, you all politely agreed.
That’s how you got in this situation. Robin and Vickie were nestled up under a blanket on the floor surrounded by pillows, they seriously looked like something from a cheesy teen movie, it was such an adorable sight. Nancy and Jonathan sat side by side on the couch, his head leaning on her left shoulder and her fingers combing through his fringe, muttering something about him needing a hair cut. Steve was sat to the right of you cradling a pillow. He looked sweet all cuddled into it, his nose wrinkled up as his face pushes into the pillow, and you, were sat on Eddie’s lap.
It wasn’t an unusual thing for you to be physically affectionate with Eddie, you’d known each other since you were three. He’d showered and taken baths with you when you were kids when the Munson’s water supply was cut off from tough times with money and your mom always let them use your bath tub and shower when they needed it. He’d seen you grow from a little toddler into what you are today, 5’5 and 21 years old. He’d seen all of your style experiments to try and figure out who you were, but you were always so jealous of Eddie. He knew who he was from a young age. I mean he forced you to listen to KISS and Metallica when you were pre-teens. He knew what he wanted and what he liked, you admired that. You admired him.
Your back facing his chest, heat radiating under the blanket he’d hauled over the pair of you. You didn’t bat an eyelid when his hand snuck under your shirt, drawing little patterns with his finger tips on your skin. Tracing your spine and writing curse words with his nails, it tickled. It was soft and oh so soothing. He walked his fingers up your back, pretending as if his pointer and middle fingers were a persons legs. Getting closer and closer to the back of your neck and your head tilted back with a jolt. You turn around to face him, a look of playful annoyance plastered over your face but ruined with a smile when you were met with Eddie’s devious smirk.
He pouts, silently saying how he’ll make it up to you. He didn’t say that with words, but you knew. You and Eddie could almost read each other’s minds, it was a little scary. His fingers swoop over your back again, but this time slower and gentler. It was a barely there touch. His fingers felt featherlight as they grazed up and down your back, with both hands added now. Lifting your hand to cover your smile, a feeling of relaxation washed over you. Whilst whatever movie Robin had chosen seemed interesting, all you could think about and feel, was Eddie.
Before you knew it, you felt your throat let out a groan. A guttural moan, it was quiet and thankfully covered up by the background sound of the movie. But Eddie’s hands didn’t stop, they teased your sides, open palm rubbing up and down them. You squint your eyes shut tightly, but your brain is filled with thoughts. Thoughts of the night when the tension got too much for you, the night Eddie leant in and kissed you. He tasted of weed, you were both as high as a kite but the melody of his playing corroded coffin tape set the scene so well. He rubbed your sides just like this when you were sat on his lap last time. Only last time, he was inside you.
The burning desire in the pit of your stomach ached for more again. Rutting your body slowly across Eddie’s thigh, rolling your hips just like you did on his cock before. The feel of his denim clad thigh harsh against your clothed clit, you hide to bite your lip to hold back a moan. Eddie just felt so good. He definitely knew what you were doing, he began to bounce you on his thigh, slowly at first but picking up the pace when he felt your hands find their way to his. He rocks you, backwards and forwards, rubbing your clit against him. Pleasure washes over you completely, you’re blissed out. He begins to buck his hips beneath you, feeling his hard cock hit against your ass. You just wished he’d slide your panties aside and let you cock warm here right here, right now. He thrusts against you again, you wonder if he’s leaking in his boxers. You’d do anything to taste his pearlescent beads of cum, so you wriggle your ass in his lap. You get away with it too, pretending like you’re dancing to the music the movie is playing. Teasing him and feeling him grow harder and harder underneath you, letting him thrust against the small of your back.
Until he stops. Turns you to face him by his finger and thumb grasping your chin, “Not here, behave and you can have a special treat later.” He teases, not missing your eyes widening and the blush spread across your face at his words. After he plants a soft kiss on your forehead, you turn back and try to focus on the movie but your mind is elsewhere. It’s so fucking tedious, even if you weren’t distracted you’d find this movie boring, you make a mental note to joke about the plot holes of this film with Steve later, he definitely feels the same about Robin’s movie choices because he is in fact snoring into the pillow.
It all feels never ending, you’re so turned on and there’s nothing you can do but sit and wait, feeling Eddie’s cock deflate and turn soft underneath you. But after 40 excruciatingly long minutes when all you can feel is the throbbing between your thighs and the uncomfortable sensation of your soaked panties, cold and wet against your pussy, the movie finishes.
The party clear up their mess and the guests leave, Nancy and Jonathan drive Steve home. Robin and Vickie walk back to Vickie’s parent’s house, a “slumber party” they had told them. Leaving you and Eddie, alone. You stand up for the first time in hours, stretching your arms above your head. Eddie’s arms clasp around your middle, and he pulls you back onto the couch, pinning your arms to the cushion.
Pointing at the now dampened and discoloured material of his jeans, “look at that. You soaked me through, princess. Your pussy drenched my thigh, in front of all of our friends. So dirty.” He cooed, his voice breathy and drowning in need. Eddie’s hand lets go of your wrists and begins to palm over his jeans, a tent shape that had been there for a while now. His pants looked tight, like the button was about to pop off and his cock spring out. “Had me so fucking hard for so long, now it’s time for your treat huh?”
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anakinsbunniee · 4 months ago
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Having more silly thoughts about Farmer!Anakin!!
It was quiet. Too quiet. A few minutes ago before the air around you had turned silent, you heard and saw Anakin hammering against the fences outside while watching him from the little pink window of the kitchen. At first, he refused to paint it pink, but how could he deny the wishes of his wife who's also the mother of his sweet baby girl?
With a loud sigh, he turned around, looking at you inside the house. He throws the hammer back into his tool box and makes a little 'cmere' motion with his fingers. He seemed mad.
You put your baby into her crib, stroking her cheek one last time while she squeals, before quickly walking outside to your garden. Some of the lambs immediately run up to you, and with a loud giggle, you push yourself through the herd.
“Hun..you remember what you told me in the morning? Before I left for the market.” He asks strictly, holding you softly with his rough hands at your hips.
“Uhh..mhm hm! I told you that I love you and that I'll cook your favourite dinner tonight!” 
“Yeeees baby, but that's not what I mean,” he replies, trying to keep up his tough guy facade. You were just so sickly sweet; he could never stay mad at you.
With a sigh, he points towards the clothes line where your towels and some of his shirts are hanging. “You promised you'd get the clothes off and fold them together before I came back.”
"Awhhhh that, I forgot. I'm sorry..I was playing with the baby the whole time and completely forgot.” You mumbled, looking down a little.
To others, it would seem irrelevant. 'Oh, she didn't get the clothes and towel off, horribleeee’. But for you, it was bad. Anakin did everything for you. Paid the bills, worked around the house and farm, ect. Yet, you couldn't even remember to fold the clothes together.
“Sigh. It's fine, baby. I'm not mad, okay? Let's do it together, alright? We'll be faster that way.” He replied with a smile, wiping his hands with a cloth before putting it back into his pockets.
He lays a hand on the small of your back and leads you to the clothing line. When he noticed the tears in your glossy eyes he sighed. “Don't cry..I told you it's fine, alright?” He picks up the basket and starts to take the clothes and towels off the clothing line with you while folding them in the air. His muscles were just begging to get out of that tight shirt he was wearing:(
“See? 's waaaay quicker this way.” He commented, following you while you carried the basket back inside your little house you called home.
While you carry it upstairs, he goes to pick up your baby out of her crib in the living room, holding her softly while kissing her all over her chubby face. She squeals and reaches out for his collar with her small fists.
“Hopefully you don't grow up to be as clueless as your mama..” 
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