#i love a woman who wears suits and dress shirts
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azaleasallalong · 2 months ago
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i have the need to say something so unholy...
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reshinless · 4 months ago
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sylus is a girl dad.
sylus whose daughter loves telling everyone hi, with a wave and a cheeky smile (in hopes to find a mom and a wife for her papa)
she, who bumps into you while running around the candy isle.
"oh sweetheart, are you okay?" she immediately gets up to see who she bumped into-
"oh wow.. you're so pretty, lady!" she cheers as you pick her up. "mmhm? where's your parents, honey?" you search signs for any parents.bmaybe she was just wandering?
no no, a kid with this type of fashion would not just 'be roaming around'. she had a necklace with her own name on it.
"my daddy would like you." the small white-haired little girl looked at you with awe. playing with your hair as she leaned onto your chest, as if she was ready to call you mom.
you started to walk around the store, asking around if they'd seen her parents. but every stranger you met- to no avail did you get to find any clue. let alone the man himself.
"sweetheart, do you know what you're papa looked like?" tucking in one of her stray strands of hair behind her ears as she nods her head. "yeah, handsome and very nice. he is very tall too! and.. ummm... he has my hair!" huh.. you couldn't find anyone else that seemed to have similar hair to hers.
"ah, there you are scarlett. don't roam around aimlessly. you heard a low voice coming from behind you. oh this must be her father.
oh- wow. he was definitely a lot more different than expected. you expected an appearance similar to the way his little girl had dressed. "papa! look i found pretty woman!" she pulled on your collar, asking you to get closer.
'you.. you're her dad?" you looked back at the little pearl you had in your arms, she was wearing all pink and a dash of white. and compared it to the man in front of you's look. a black suit paired with a few touches of red here and there.
you chuckled at first, getting to converse a little deeper with the tall man, although he looked scary, he was not as unfriendly as he seemed.
"you're good with kids, hmm?" the white-haired male hummed, looking into your e/c eyes, he definitely could hold it. "I suppose!" you cheer as you watch the small girl run back and forth, grabbing unhealthiness off the shelves.
"miss! can you pretty please buy this for me?" she grinned, oh what a cute little smile! sylus suddenly stopped you by your shoulder; "I'm really sorry for her behavior, she doesn't usually act like this. scarlett, go put it back." the last of his sentence almost sounded nice, but a twinge of anger in it. well, understandably..
"don't worry, i can buy it for her. which one did you want again?" you stepped closer, kneeling down to her level, watching her point out what chocolate bar she wanted.
he had to marry you.
after a quick trip to the counter, the small girl happily munched on her candy, smiling a teethy grin at you. bits of chocolate over her mouth. "hey, careful now, chocolate can stain easily.." you walked to her, wiping her mouth with a part of your clothing.
"hey- you didn't have to do that." sylus was too late to stop you, the mocha already stained onto your shirt. "huh? oh it's nothing much really, I'm fine. they're just clothes anyway."
"let me repay you."
"no, no need really!"
"let me."
"no! it's fine!"
he grabbed your hand not too roughly, but places what looked like at least one-thousand dollars?!
by the time you looked up from counting the money, he had already gone. oh, what's this? a note?
"call me XXXX-XXX-XXX when you find something." huh. his number? now that's interesting!
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authorhjk1 · 9 months ago
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I hope its not much to ask but any chance you can make an Irene short pls? Her photos for her upcoming photobook is driving me nuts lol especially the one where shes lying sideways and looking at the tv.
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You close the door behind you, take your shoes off and walk into the living room.
"You are still up?"
The love of your life lies on the couch in your shared apartment, watching TV. The room is just as dark as the night outside. You hesitate to switch on the lights, the blue shine of the screen illuminating your wife's gorgeous face.
"Of course I am."
It took her a moment to tear her eyes off the screen. But once she looks at you, her face grows softer.
"I always wait for you, when you work late."
"Yeah."
You lose your words, when you realize what Irene is wearing. Several years of marriage and you still can't help but feel like a stupid teenager when she looks this fantastic.
As she gets off the couch, the white shirt or dress slips down her frame. You can't really tell if it's your shirt or her dress, which she brought a couple of weeks ago. It's still dark. But you are disappointed nonetheless. It hides the beautiful curves of her hips.
"I left some of the food in the fridge, if you want me to heat it up for you?"
"I love you."
She smiles back at you, tiptoeing her way around the couch.
"Love you too."
She gives you a peck on your lips, before disappearing into the kitchen.
Once you are inside the bedroom, you quickly get rid off your suit and change into something more comfortable. After a quick stop at the bathroom, you enter the kitchen.
Your wife has already finished reheating the food she made.
"Thank you."
You lean over the kitchen table, kissing Irene's forehead.
"I'm just making sure you are not going to bed hungry."
You shake your head with a big smile on your face as you sit down in front of the meal.
What did you do in your past life to deserve such a woman like her? Caring, beautiful, loving, gorgeous, funny...
The list goes on and on.
As you reach for your fork, the dim light of the fridge makes the golden wedding ring on your finger shine. Irene wanted a fridge with a window in it, so it would be easier for her to see what she needs to buy, without having to open it everytime. Her own ring reflects the blue light as well.
How lucky are you? How is it possible that you are the man who was able to put that ring on her finger?
While you enjoy the food she made, you notice Irene looking at you. Her chin resting on her hand, her elbow on the table. A dreamy smile plays around her lips as she watches you eat.
"Do you have work tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow is Saturday, silly."
"Right."
Irene giggles as you focus back on your food.
"I thought we could do something together. Something in the city."
"What exactly?"
Irene leans a little forward, visibly excited and curious.
"I'll tell you tomorrow."
She pouts at you, leaning back a little.
"Is the cake already gone?"
You notice she didn't give you any as you reach the end of your meal. You don't have to tell her you enjoyed it. She knows it. She watched you the whole time.
"Well..."
Your wife gets off her chair and walks around the table.
"The cake is gone,"
She is now standing next to you, her hand resting on your shoulder. Irene leans down a little to whisper into your ear.
"but I'm sure we can find you something delicious to eat."
Irene kisses you right next to your ear, before walking into the bedroom. You look after her, watching how she moves with grace.
After quickly finishing the meal and putting away the dishes, you arrive at the bedroom door.
Irene is lying on the bed, her head resting on her hand again. She looks at you. But this time it's different. Gone is the loving, caring look she so often wears. It's replaced by a darker, almost evil stare. Her teeth slightly bite into her lower lip as she sees you standing in the doorway.
"Time for dessert, baby."
Despite her whispering, you can clearly hear her voice, dripping with lust.
You immediately get onto the foot of the bed. Grabbing her luscious thighs with your hands, you pull Irene closer. She is moaning already, knowing what's to come.
As you lean down, you suddenly realize that the pantyhose she is wearing is blocking your access. As if she read your mind, your wife shakes her head.
"Don't tear it open again. I have to buy a new one almost weekly."
"Now I know how you spend all my money."
Before she can protest, you rip the thin fabric apart. The loud tearing sound fills your bedroom for just a moment.
"Fuck."
Irene's head sinks into the pillow at your actions. Everytime you do this, she realizes she can just buy a new one.
Pulling her black panties to the side, you are greeted with her pink pussy. It's a meal you have had every day for the last years. A meal you can never grow tired of.
"Oh gosh, baby."
Irene moans as you tease her by kissing and licking her thighs. But when you are so close to her, you can't keep it up for long. Your kisses start to circle around her pussy. You tighten it further and further, until your lips finally meet her clit.
A loud whine echoes through the room. You can tell that Irene is biting her lips, trying to prevent louder sounds from escaping her mouth.
You indulge in your favorite meal. Your favorite dessert. Her most intimate part is yours.
Years of marriage have taught you everything you need to know about your wife. That includes her body. What she feels like, wherever you touch her. How she feels when you touch her. How to touch her. It's all in your mind. As if you wrote a book or painted a map. You know every inch of her skin like it's your own.
Small and quick kisses on her clit make Irene sigh and tug at her own hair her with her hand. Licks along her folds make her whimper, almost shake in anticipation. Burying your tongue inside her snatch makes her moan. Your hands on her thighs, massaging them, makes her melt.
The combination of all of the above makes sure that you give Irene the time of her life. Her flawless body is hit by wave after wave of pleasure. Her mouth can't seem to close and her hand eventually finds your head.
As she pushes you down, her nails digging into your scalp, you know that Irene is trying to fight a lost battle. A battle you've already won. From the moment you first placed your hands on her thighs a couple of minutes ago.
And the sound of victory is your wife's high pitched cry. Irene reaches her high, her mind going blank as her body betrays her. She has no control over it as she squirms and shakes on the sheets. Her wet pussy is dripping with her juices, leaving a wet spot on the sheets beneath her. Well, more like a puddle.
While she still rides out her orgasm, you plant kisses on her clit, almost apologetically.
With her taste still lingering on your lips, you quickly rid yourself of your clothing. Irene's chest rises and falls as she takes heavy breaths.
"Honey..."
She looks up at you. No other words are needed to express her gratitude, her satisfaction, her longing. Her eyes sparkle with lust as she silently begs you to fuck her.
Knowing how wet Irene becomes after her first orgasm, you align yourself with her snatch without any further preparation. You don't have time for that anyway. Her pussy captivates you, every time you catch a glimpse of it.
"Oh, god!"
Irene moans loudly as you push inside of her. Your hands on her thighs push them apart a little, making sure you have one of the most beautiful views anyone could have.
Your wife's gorgeous face twists in pleasure as you start to fuck her. Slow and deep at first, making her gasp, everytime you hit her cervix.
The lewd sounds her mouth makes eventually coax you into thrusting harder and faster. Irene's moans become louder, her thighs are a little shakey once more.
"You're so tight, baby."
You can't help but praise your wife. She is everything a guy would want in a partner and so much more. And her insides are no exception. The way her walls wrap around you, whenever you thrust into her. The way she squeezes your cock, making sure you feel just as good as she does.
The two of you quickly lose track of time. It was already late when you got home. Both of you were already tired from the long day. But this gives you new energy. New passion.
"More, baby."
Irene moans into your ear as she tears open old scratches on your back.
By now you've carried her to the window after finally undressing her completely. The torn pantyhose lying somewhere on the floor. Her bare back is pushed flat against the cold glass, causing goosebumps to cover her skin. Her legs are wrapped around your waist as you keep pounding into her with hard thrusts.
You kiss Irene's neck, making her moan even louder as you find her soft spot with ease. Her walls clench down on your cock at the same time. A not so silent battle about who makes the other person lose first. And losing is not bad at all. By no means. Losing has only one single outcome. Which is, cuming inside your wife. Something you would gladly do the entire day if you could. Something you did do every day, the entire day, when you were on your honeymoon.
"Babe..."
You gladly admit defeat as you keep pushing inside of your wife.
"Yes, baby. M-Me too..."
You feel Irene's walls squeezing and contracting around you. You plan on holding on throughout her orgasm, but you both know it's not meant to be.
With small "Love you"'s and kisses, the both of you cum at the same time. You feel yourself getting drained by Irene's contracting walls as she feels your load painting her insides. The two of you keep hugging each other in a tight embrace as you ride out your climaxes. Irene's usual squirming and shaking is reduced to a twitching of her stomach and abs, which welcome your cum inside her belly.
"I can't wait for another girl."
You chuckle into her neck.
"That's how you spend all my money."
She grins into yours, peppering your skin with kisses.
"Four times is the charm."
After showering together, you open the door at the end of the hallway. Both beds are occupied with two small figures, visibly sleeping. You kiss them both on their foreheads, before entering the room on the right. Your oldest is sound asleep too. She almost looks exactly like her mother.
"Sleep tight."
You whisper, before joining your wife in your bed.
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Thank you for reading everyone!
I hope you guys enjoyed. I'm working on the next pieces, so stay tuned.
This got a little longer than I expected it to be. (As always)
I had to wait for the bus a little longer than usual, so I thought I would give this a shot.
Stay healthy!
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storiesfromafan · 5 months ago
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He's My Husband, I'm His Wife - Benny x Reader
A/N: Alright, I am back with a follow up to She's A Spitfire, after a comment from @redwitchbitch1 :) I have also got another 2 parts in mind, I may have dropped the names in my Master List haha.
I wrote this last night while watching The Crow and Beetlejucie, in anticipation of the new movies coming out in the next few weeks. I was also listening to Sabrina Carpenter's new album too while writing.
Warnings: a few swear words, sass, bitchyness and a bit of petty.
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Six weeks. Forty-two days. One thousand and eight hours. That’s how long you’d known Benny before you became Mrs Cross. A whirl wind of a romance. Yet it felt completely right. From the bike ride after dealing with Troy, to Benny popping the question a few days ago while taking a ride just for the fun of it, and everything in-between. It’s like Benny was your drug of choice – and you his – and neither could get enough.
When you weren’t working at your hairdresser job, Benny was there, picking you up or taking you wherever you or he wanted. You’d go with him to Vandal meetings, drink and play pool at the bar, picnic’s. Even spend days in bed, wrapped around each other. How someone felt so right in such a short time was beyond you and him, but you both embraced it. Which is why Benny wanted to seal it with making an honest woman of you, his woman. Now and forever how long you’d have him.
Your wedding day had been something to see. Nothing fancy. You in a while baby doll dress that came to your knees, white go-go boots and a short white vail, just for laughs. Benny wore a button up shirt, jacket with his colors, black jeans and dirty boots. You didn’t need him to be in a suit or tux, for Benny looked good in anything, even better in nothing. It was a simple courthouse wedding, as many Vandals in attendance that the place could hold. But the main ones where up front; Johnny, Brucie, Cal, Corky, Wahoo, Danny – who didn’t miss a beat taking photo’s – etc. Along with their respected others too. You didn’t have anyone on your side, and you couldn’t care less.
“Do you Benjamin Cross” – there were snickers from most of the men upon hearing Benny’s full name, but he didn’t care – “take (Y/N) (L/N), to be your wedded wife, to love her, comfort her, honor her, and keep her, forsaking all others, for so long as you both shall live?” the Minister asked.
Benny, holding your hands, looked you right in the eye, never wavering. “I do”.
The Minister then asked you; “do you (Y/N) (L/N) take Benjamin Cross to be your wedded husband, to love him, comfort him, honor him, and keep him, forsaking all others, for so long as you both shall live?”
You looked into Benny’s eyes, not wavering either, as you held his hands firmly. “Oh, I do”.
Your groom smirked at how confident you were. He knew this was it, for the both of you. No one else. This was end game. Now and always. Plain and simple.
Next was rings, or rather a ring. You didn’t expect Benny to wear a ring, but you wanted one. A simple band would be enough for you, to show whomever that you were taken. Benny made sure to get you a band with a stone in it, he’d promised you something better later on but you told him that this band was enough, it was perfect, as it was from him. Before slipping the ring on your finger, he made sure to place a kiss upon that finger, a symbol of his affection. And then that band locked it into place.
With a few more words, which you both didn’t pay mind too, as all you were focused on was each other. Drinking in this moment. Savoring how you both felt joy, excitement and contentment. Only coming back when you may now kiss the bride was spoken by the Minister.
Without skipping a beat, Benny pulled you to him by your locked hands. One hand moving you cup your cheek before leaning down and claiming your lips in a firm, but loving kiss. The cheers from the Vandals gracing your ears, bringing a giddiness to you. As you pulled apart, you both chuckled at the men.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife” declared the Minister.
With that, and a few legal formalities, Benny led you from the courthouse with you under his arm, while numerous Vandals patted him on the back. Outside the courthouse you all gathered around, with you and your husband in the center. There was talking, joking and lots of laughter. If you had a dollar for every time a Vandal called you Benny’s ball ‘n chain, you’d be sitting pretty, or have enough for a decent honey moon.
Eventually it was time to move on, the club deciding to take a long ride. Giving Benny a bright smile, your husband led you to his bike, that sported a few cans tied with string. He got onto the bike, kick starting it without a problem. Holding out his hand, Benny helped you get on the bike behind him. And waited patiently for you to tuck your dress under you, so it wouldn’t fly about or flash anyone. Once set, you wrapped your arms around your husbands waist, hands gripping the shirt over his firm stomach.
“All set wife?” Benny asked with amusement.
You moved up and placed a kiss upon his cheek. “I’m peachy, husband”.
With that, Benny pulled away from the curb, along with all other Vandals after. He held back so that Johnny could take the lead, and off you all went. With the wind in your hair, vail flying behind you, you threw your small bouquet without a care in the world. That was the start of the next chapter in your life. Only if you’d known a part from a past chapter was to come back in the future, you would have made sure to write it out.
A few weeks later...
It was a beautiful sunny day. And with such lovely weather; the Vandals, their significant others, your husband and you had showed up to a car show two towns over. You noticed the stares the Vandals got from those that didn’t ride, but chose cars. They didn’t look too pleased, but weren’t brave enough to say anything. Along with them were other biker clubs. They were more welcoming, as they understood the life of a motorcycle rider.
You were seated with a few of the other partners of Vandals, enjoying the sun with a drink. Talking about your significant others; the good, the bad and the ugly. You’d even talked about the small honey moon you and Benny took. It was just a weekend away, but it’s not like you’d left your room or anything. You both enjoyed your little wedded bubble. Taking every moment to say husband, wife and Mrs Cross. The last being Benny’s favorite. He loved you being his wife. He loved you. Just as much as you loved him.
You looked to your gorgeous husband, as he stood around with Corky, Wahoo and Danny. They were all talking, probably all bullshit of some level. Benny was smiling that melting smile of his, eyes shining with humor at whatever Danny said. You couldn’t believe how lucky you were. And it all happened on a similar day to today. If you’d hadn’t put yourself on show, would your panty dropping, now husband have noticed you? You weren’t too sure. But oh so glad he had.
“Ain’t you over the honey moon faze yet!?” Laughed Betty, as she playfully slapped your arm.
You turned to look at her, with a bright smile. “Nope. Doubt I ever will with my husband. He really sparks my spark-plug”. You wiggled your eyebrows, the women around you laughing.
“Give it time, the novelty will wear out” she replied shaking her head.
You looked back to Benny. “Hmm, no chance of that happening”.
Sensing he was being watched, Benny looked around only to find your eyes locked on to him. A dreamy, yet confident smile upon those luscious lips he’s kissed and bit numerous times. Among other things those lips had done to him and his body. Just the thoughts that crossed Benny’s mind, had him wanting to drag you off and away from prying eyes. But he had to behave himself, even just for a while. A pleasant smirk graced his face as he shot you a wink. Which only made you smile bigger. Yes, Mrs Cross was everything he needed. After the club, of course.
How did he get so lucky? Benny didn’t know. But wasn’t going to question it. He took a stab in the dark when he spoke to you a few months ago. Nor did he expect something that seemed to be fun at the time, would lead to him being married and over the moon with you. He loved his spitfire wife. He loved the sass, and he loved the lack of filter you have. It had made the time with you the more fun. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
You got up from your spot, saying you had to use the restroom. Crossing the open grass area, you headed to the public restrooms. After a short wait, you finally relieved yourself before washing your hands. Just as you were about to head back you heard your name being called. The voice sounding familiar. Turning to your left you spotted the person; Pam.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes” you said with a genuine smile. Beside all the drama the last time, Pam was the nicer of the three women you once socialized with.
“I was about to say the same” she laughed. You both briefly hugged.
“How ya been?” You asked.
Pam sigh. “Yeah, same old. How about you?”
By now you both began to walk the way you’d come. “A lot has happened” you replied, about to continue before spotting two more familiar faces; Dani and Becky.
Pam noticed where you were looking, her smile dropping and a look of unease cross her face. “Maybe we should move somewhere else” she said with worry. “They weren’t too happy after that day...”
Unfortunately you both were spotted by the two women. They looked unimpressed before striding over to you and Pam. They plastered on fake smiles. Greeting them, they replied, and you shared a quick awkward hug with them. Just because they seemed icy, didn’t mean you had to be. You made your choice, and it was the best thing ever. And you couldn’t wait to rub it in their faces.
“Wow, haven’t seen you in, what – ages?” Becky said like the mean girls from high school. “Who would have thought we’d run into each other!”
You held it together, stopping your eyes from rolling. “I know! I’ve been busy with Benny and work” you replied just like her. “We were bound to run into each other, I’d have just hoped it would have been years from now”.
Poor Pam, she looked so uncomfortable. But you weren’t going to back down to these two harpies. Looking back at the time with them, you could see how fake they had been with you. So now you were going to give them it back ten fold.
“Oh, so you’re still with the Vandal, huh?” Questioned Dani, crossing her arms and popping her hip. “Thought either you’d dump him or he’d have found another chick by now, of course the later more so”. She and Becky chuckled.
You gave them a bright smile. “Sorry to burst your bitch bubbles, but we’re still together. Even better then ever really”. The look that crossed your face was like the cat that got the cream.
“Oh? Whys that, huh?” Becky asked curiously.
Without missing a beat, you drew forward your hand that held your wedding band. “He was man enough to lock me down. And it’s been the best decision I’ve made”.
Shock crossed their faces, with a touch of envy. You stood taller, feeling absolutely wonderful at their reactions. You watched as they tried to process it all. Their mouths opening before closing. Ha, take those apples, you thought feeling elated.
“Congratulations!” Pam said genuinely happy for you.
That seemed to snap Dani and Becky out of their short circuited moment. They stood stiff, putting on a cool, uncaring look upon their face, though it was obviously far from how they were feeling.
“Let us guess, it was a shot gun wedding?” Becky said snidely. “He knocked you up, right?”
Dani laughed at her friends words, while Pam protested it all.
You laughed. “Oh no, he hasn’t knocked me up. But I’d gladly give that man a kid if he asked. But till then I am thoroughly lovin’ the practice”. You smirked when they shot you a dark look.
Dani scoffed. “Of course you enjoy being on your back, a whore does”.
“You’d know, right?” You retorted, earning a growl from the woman.
You thought Dani was about to go you, and would have welcomed it, even if it would have been two on one. You could have taken them, easily. But instead a man came up, wrapping his arms around Dani, face moving to rest in the crook of her neck and shoulder. Her hands automatically coming to rest over his.
“Mmm, I wondered where ya went” came another familiar voice. When they lifted their head, you were greeted to Troy. Dani smirked with satisfaction.
Oh how you wanted to laugh in her face. But decided against it. Let her think she’s got one up on you. It will make bringing her down all the more sweeter. Troy noticed the woman in his hands not paying him any mind, turning his head he was greeted to the sight of you. His face fell, a blank look upon his face.
“(Y/N)” was all he said. No hello or anything.
“Troy” you replied.
“I just ran into (Y/N), babe, and we’ve just been catchin’ up” Dani said coolly, leaning back into your ex.
You clicked your tongue. “Huh, see you’ve moved on. Hopefully poor Sam wasn’t too heartbroken by this” you mused, unfazed.
“He’s fine” Troy said, tightening his hold on Dani.
You nodded. “That’s good. He still part of your club?”
“No, he handed in his colors...a little after this” he said gesturing to them.
“Mhmm. Alright, guess he got rid of two lots of trash” you said offhandedly. That hit a nerve.
Troy glared at you. “What was that?”
Back with Benny; he had been sitting with Johnny and Zipco. All three in conversation when he had seen you walking with one of your old friends. You looked happy, having a good time catching up. But then it changed when the other two showed up. He continued to keep any eye on you while talking and drinking his beer.
He knew you would hold your own with those women, so he had nothing to worry about. It was when Johnny said his name, did he look at the Vandals leader.
“Huh?” He asked putting his beer bottle on his bike.
Johnny lifted his head in your direction, worry on his face. “Might want to go to your wife, she might need ya”.
Confused, Benny turned to be greeted with Troy holding one of the women facing you. The scene looked a little stiff and painful. Getting up from his bike Benny kept his eyes on Troy, more then anything because he didn’t trust the guy.
“Yeah, I’ll be over there. Thanks for the heads up” Benny said, before slowly making his way to you.
“We’ll keep an eye out, if ya need us we'll be there” called Johnny. Benny just nodded his head.
He kept his eyes trained on the scene before him. Watching how Troy reacted to you, and eventually he could hear the conversation, coming in as you called them trash. That was his girl. He smiled at that no filter of yours. But he would be there if you needed protecting. Benny would always step in and guard you.
“Oh, trash?” You asked tilting your head. “I wasn’t clear? Sorry. I was implying – it means strongly suggest the truth – that you and Dani were the trash, and Sam leaving, got rid of you both. Ya follow?”
Benny smirked, shaking his head.
Troy and Dani, flustered, tried to sputter out a comeback but failed. You smiled wider at this. Knowing it was best to join you, Benny stepped up to you, wrapped an arm around your waist and drew you close as he planted a kiss to your cheek. Recognizing your husband from his hold and smell, you chuckled at him.
“Benny!” You squealed, grabbing his hand that rested on your stomach.
“Hey baby” he said sweetly in your ear. “Found ya”.
You knew that meant he’d seen what’s going on. And was here in case you needed him. You turned to face him, looking into his baby blues, silently thanking him. Before leaning up and kissing his full lips.
“Yes, ya found me, hubby” you replied sweetly, left hand coming up to caress his cheek.
You didn’t see Troy’s face, but the shock in his voice when he spoke told you everything you needed to know. “What the fuck?! Hubby?!”
You turned your gaze from Benny, a look of fake confusion on your face. “Sorry?”
Troy scowled, as he released Dani and moved forward. “Hubby?!”
You looked to Benny and then back to Troy. “Oh!” You turned your body forward, extending your left hand to Troy.
He looked down at your hand, seeing the band on your ring finger. He looked confused, before realization washed over his stupid face. “What the fuck! What’s this!”
You smiled contently. “It’s a wedding band” you replied simply. “It means he’s my husband, I’m his wife”. You said it slowly and clearly. Only infuriating the man before you further.
“I get that! By why him!?” Troy said in a raised voice.
Looking to your husband, you gave him the brightest, warm smile while staring into his beautiful blue eyes. Benny returning your smile right back at you. “Isn’t it obvious? Benny’s perfect”.
Feeling prideful, Benny lent down and planted a loving, knee weakening kiss on your lips. That was him telling you he felt the same about you. He wasn’t one to always say what he was thinking or feeling, but happily showed you it. And right now he was, along with everyone else watching.
Pulling back, he saw that twinkle of mischief in your eyes. Here it comes, that unfiltered mouth of yours. You turned back to Troy, Dani and Becky, shoulders squared as you stared them down. Now to really hit them where it hurt.
“Beside, Benny’s the best ride I’ve had” you said matter-of-factly. “Both on his bike and off”.
That was it. That was the straw that broke the camels back. Troy made a move to go for you, thankfully Benny anticipated it. He managed to move you back and stepped in front of you. He grabbed at Troy’s jacket, as the other man grabbed Benny’s. The women moved back as both of them held onto the other and pushed, trying to push the other back or over onto the ground.
Dani and Becky were calling out for Troy, trying to get him to stop. You should do the same, but you knew it was pointless. Troy had made a move to put his hands on you. That triggered red in your husband. So now all he saw was red. And it wouldn’t go away till he was happy with Troy on the ground and bloody.
Benny removed a hand, only to swing his fist to Troy’s face. It made hard contact with his cheek, sending the males head to the side. Yet neither let go of the other. Once more Benny striked, making contact. This time Troy stepped back, grip going slack. Which was enough for Benny to push him and have Troy release his hold. From there Troy took swings at your husband, a couple making contact. It was back and forth with them. They scrapped around, Benny tackling the man to the ground.
They rolled around, going back and forth with blows. All the while the women screamed, more people noticing the pair and coming closer. Included were some of the Vandals; Johnny, Zipco and Cal standing front and center. They were keeping an eye on the pair ready to pry them apart if it got too much.
Finally Benny ended up on top of Troy. Hard blow after blow to his face. Blood – from Troy or your husband – covering the man on the ground. Benny looked wild, uncontrollable as he waled on your ex. Finally Johnny and Zipco pulled Benny from on top of Troy, taking pity on the guy, who had gone up against their friend. Benny struggled against the two, but with words from Johnny, a bit of a flash from the past, Benny began to settle. Breathing heavy he spat out some blood to the side, eyes still watching the man on the ground.
Dani rushed to Troy’s side, worry on her face as she touched his face. He groaned, telling you that he was still alive, unfortunately. You watched them and thought they deserved each other. One bad apple with another.
You moved to Benny’s side, both Johnny and Zipco releasing their friend when you came to him. You placed a gentle hand on his arm, drawing his attention to you. He was still trying to catch his breath when he shot you a bright, victorious smile. You smiled, shaking your head. This man, he was just as bad as you. You with your mouth, and him with his fists. The pair you made was crazy, but in a perfect way.
You grabbed your husbands arm and started to pull him back to his bike, but looked back to Pam. “Sorry about this Pam. It was nice to see ya. Maybe we could catch up for coffee, or a drink sometime?”
She looked at you in shock, before coming somewhat back to the present. “Ah, sure?”
You smiled at her and said you would. From there you led your brave husband, followed by Vandals, back to your spot. You had Benny rest against his bike while you fetched some water, cloth and something to wrap his hands with. Once back with supplies, you cleaned and wrapped his hands, knuckles split from the beating he’d given. From there you moved to clean his beautiful face, which was starting to discolor. Meaning he’d had a fee shiners for a while. Nothing new really. What were a few shiners and some blood? Nothing new to you.
You were mindful when cleaning his split lip, hands gentle when wiping and applying pressure. While you worked away, Benny watched you closely. He wondered if you might be upset with him to some extent. He knew, you knew that he’d step in if needed. But he wasn’t sure if you were fine that he beat the shit out of your ex. On some level you might have still cared for the guy.
You cupped Benny’s cheeks with your hands, eyes moving to look into his deeply, searching. “Ya alright baby?” You asked softly, just between you both.
That brought him back. “Yeah, I am baby”.
You smiled softly at him, planting a soft kiss to his lips, being careful of the cut. “You sure? You looked deep in thought”.
Benny slowly nodded. “Just...you ain’t mad with me, are ya? For how far I took if with your ex?”
You looked at him, eyes blinking a few times. “No Benny, why would I? You stepped in to protect me, baby. I’m more proud then anythin’”. You smiled brightly, lovingly at your husband.
Benny sighed, a relieved smile washing over his lips. “Good. I was worried you’d be mad. As ya got history with the guy-”
You cut him off. “That’s just it, history. It’s in the past. You are my present and future. I’m your wife, wholeheartedly”.
Benny pulled you to him, hugging you closely, face resting in the crook of your neck. How could you know what to say to make him so happy? You giggled wrapping your arms around your man, holding him tightly. Knowing he needed reassurance you were his, and no one else’s. And you always would be.
You ran your hand through the hair at the base of his neck. “You’re stuck with me Mr Cross, no getting’ rid of me now”.
Benny chuckled, it tickling your skin, before pulling back and staring deeply into your eyes. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, Mrs Cross”.
He then lent in and kissed you. It was hard, loving and toe curling. And when he deepened it, tongue entering your mouth and dancing with your own, you were a puddle in his arms. The small noises he elected from you was driving him crazy. Finally drawing back for air, Benny rested his forehead against yours. You stared at each other, enjoying the intimacy of the moment. History repeats itself, and you still had Benny there for you. And always will.
“Let’s head home spitfire. I think I need some tender, love and care” Benny whispered huskily in your ear.
You smiled. “Oh, I can do that for you, baby. Anything for my wild, crazy husband”.
A/N: I am still working on my Benny x Tomboy!Reader, I haven't forgotten. Or Cal x Sweet!Reader.
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foreingersgod · 10 months ago
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can you do a kate martin x jealous reader?
like kate was being too sweet with someone else then the reader was like “you really enjoyed your time with her huh?” or something like that HAHAHA
Jealousy . KM
pairing: kate martin x reader
synopsis: during a night out with your girlfriend and her team, another woman gets flirty with kate and leaves you jealous.
༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶
it was your birthday this weekend and kate had insisted on planning a whole big night for you to celebrate. she picked out your favorite bar, invited her team (they were like your family, and a few of your other close friends to come and celebrate. she arranged for everyone to hang out at the bar for the night, order a few drinks, and play a little pool.
she had even bought you a new dress to wear specifically for the get together, on top of all of the other presents she had bought you. she made sure to spoil you despite you telling her you were happy with just the dress. it was a simple thing, the dress was, sleek and black that hugged your curves just right. simple enough for the bar and irresistible enough to make kate want to rip it off you the second you put it on.
you both dressed up nice for the evening. you paired your new dress with some of your simple jewelry and a soft makeup look, throwing your hair up in a quick up do. kate dressed in a casual black suit paired with a white tee shirt underneath. you two looked like a perfect couple.
you arrived at the bar, getting a round of drinks and sitting around with some of your friends. discussions of basketball, work, and school circulated throughout the group. laughter and enjoyment buzzed around you. you were having a blast for most of the night, kate sat next to you with her arm around your waist, keeping you snug against her side.
a few of your friends started to wander off as the night went on, finding someone to go home with or dipping across the bar to play darts with others. but you and kate remained, absorbed in your own conversations.
as you and kate were finishing up a few drinks, you noticed a beautiful brunette from across the bar, sitting across from the booth you occupied. she was twirling her straw around her drink, toying with a strand of hair, and shockingly enough she was staring in your direction. you could tell she was eyeing kate right away, noticing how she watched kate pick up and set down her drink, noticing how she took note of kate’s every move. normally, stuff like this didn’t bother you, you were aware of how attractive your girlfriend was and understood that there would be people who were interested in her. you always trusted kate though, content with how she avoided their gazes and brushed them off.
but your problem arose when the girl got off her seat, fixing her ridiculously short skirt, and started walking towards your table. the girl was fixing her hair and batting her eyelashes as she made her way towards kate.
“oh my god, are you kate martin?” the brunette exclaimed, finally stood at the end of your table. “it’s so crazy meeting you here!”
her voice was so disgustingly high it made your head hurt.
“oh, uh, yea i am” kate gave her a vague smile
“it’s so nice to meet you!” the girl giggled “do you mind if i take a seat?”
you could feel kate gently let go of your waist, tensing up “um, sure, why not?”
why not? was she serious?
the thing is with kate, as much as you love her, she’s too nice of a person. she often has a really hard time turning people down when they ask her for something and she hardly ever tells someone no. you thought it was cute, thought she was so thoughtful and considerate for placing people’s needs before her own. but now, as she’s allowing this random woman to practically flirt with her on your birthday, you didn’t find it as cute.
not only were you irritated that kate just let her sit, but you were almost fuming at the fact that she immediately let go of you. did she not want the girl to know you were together?
the girl sat down in the seat across from you, the table separating you and kate from the girl. but you were sure, if there was a spot available next to kate, she would have took it in a heartbeat. you were already pissed off from the moment you saw her eye fucking your girlfriend, so you were trying to ignore the girl the best you could.
she started rambling about all sorts of stuff. chatting about how much she just loves kate as a player (you knew that was a lie, she probably doesn’t even know what a basketball is), how she really admires how she stays ‘so strong and resilient’ out on the court, and of course inserting stories about herself along the way.
as the girl kept talking, kate pulled more and more away from you. probably subconsciously, but you were so mad that you took it personally. you glanced over at kate as they talked about a specific game she had played extremely well in last week, noticing how kate was smiling ear to ear and having the time of her life. it took all you had not to scoff at her.
“i mean, it’s always tough, playing a game like that” kate told the girl “but yea, i think we held it together pretty good”
“you think? you were like totally amazing!” the girl giggled, outstretching her arms to place her hands on kate’s.
“thank you, that’s really sweet” kate let the girls hands remain on hers “you know i-”
you had had enough of whatever this was. furious at the way kate pulled away from you, how she didn’t even introduce you as her girlfriend or pay any attention to you at all since the girl had arrived. you were furious that kate was letting the girl sit there and obviously flirt with her, letting her place her hands over hers. so you stood up abruptly, grabbing your purse and shooing the both of you out of the booth.
“i’m so sorry,” you fake smiled at the girl, a confused kate staggering out of the booth “but we have places to be, have a good night”
you grabbed onto kate’s arm, dragging her with you as you stormed out of the bar. you didn’t even bother to say goodbye to your friends, just sending them a quick text and paying your tab quickly so you could leave.
“are you ok, baby?” kate asked, completely lost as to what this outburst was all about.
“i’m fine!” you dead panned, exiting the bar and walking to the edge of the side walk, trying to call a taxi to take you home.
the cool air nipped at your bare skin as you hugged yourself, wondering why it was taking so long to find a taxi. kate noticed, trying to take off her blazer and throw it over you shoulders, but you stepped away from her before she could.
“ok seriously, what is going on? why did we leave, i thought you were having fun and now you’re storming out and not even taking my jacket?” kate was growing concerned.
you hesitated before answering, pondering on what route you wanted to take this conversation. “i said i’m fine. im sorry i ruined your night with that girl back there”
kate stood there, staring at you, a faint smirk toying at the end of her lips. then she began laughing. that’s what this is about, she thought.
“what’s so funny? you looked like you were having a great time with her, sorry if i ruined it” you persisted, irritated with her and even more at the fact that you wouldn’t be getting a cab anytime soon.
“that’s what you’re mad about?” she grinned, grabbing your arms and pulling you towards her “baby, you know that’s not what was going on”
you tugged yourself out of her grasp once more, now starting to walk down the street in the direction of your apartment. it wasn’t a terribly far walk from the bar, you think you could manage it.
“baby, come on, don’t be mad!” she called out, chasing after you “i know you’re jealous but-”
“well i am mad, kate” you halted, whipping around to glare at her “and how am i not supposed to be jealous? you let go of my waist the second she sat down, you didn’t even introduce me or acknowledge me at all for that matter, you let her flirt with you, and you let her touch you like that? give me a break”
there you two stood, in the middle of the sidewalk.
“YN, i’m sorry, i didn’t do any of it on purpose i swear that i was just trying to be nice.”
“any one could tell she was flirting with you, kate”
“i know, i know, i’m stupid ok? i really didn’t even catch on, i thought she was just trying to get my attention and i was just trying to be polite so she’d eventually leave us alone.”
she walked over to you, taking your face in her hands, looking down at you and gazing into your eyes. “that’s all it was i promise, i shouldn’t have let you go and ignore you, that was so fucking dumb i know. but i really am sorry, alright?”
you pouted, starting to feel back for accusing her of something she didn’t even do. “it’s ok, i should be the one who is sorry, it wasn’t fair of me to get upset like that. i trust you, really, i do”
“it’s ok,” she smiled, eyes twinkling under the street lamps “you know, i kinda liked it, you being protective and all. i like knowing how much you love and care about me, it’s hot”
you felt your face get hot. you watched as she bit her lip, arms finding their way to your waist, for good this time “oh yea?”
she hummed in response, inching closer to your face to kiss you. her lips collided with yours, tongues fighting for dominance, hands still clinging to your body. you stopped her before it got too heated and people started staring.
“lets take this back home and i’ll show you exactly how much i love you” you whispered seductively in her ear “how’s that sound?”
she nodded enthusiastically, eyes blown wide with lust. “yes m’am”
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milla-frenchy · 4 months ago
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His favorite game
2k1 | Javier Peña x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist
Summary: you meet a corrupt security guard. (Un)fortunately, he's hot Warnings: 18+ mdni. Javi's pov, age gap (reader is 22, Javi in his 40s), darkish, dubcon, coercion, power imbalance, degradation, oral (m), piv, creampie
a/n: this is written for @toomanystoriessolittletime 's follower celebration. I got this prompt/plot (darkish Javi P) Congrats on your milestone 🥳🥳
Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕 dividers @saradika-graphics
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“I can suck your cock, if you want.”
Javi scoffed, until he realized she was dead serious. His dark eyes were on her, as he was leaning against his desk and she was sitting in front of him in a chair. He could see the worry in the shoplifter’s eyes. Concern that he'd call the cops. 
So she told him the first thing that came to her mind. She thought he was handsome, anyway, with his brown hair, his slim waist, and his broad shoulders. His uniform, which would look ridiculous on anyone else, suited him well. She was sure he’d be devastating, in a bar, wearing some jeans and a t-shirt. She was also pretty sure she’d try to seduce him, that man in his forties, the perfect dilf. And hopefully ending up with him in his car or in his apartment. 
“You wanna suck my cock?” he mocked. “And asking me to forget about the police, right? That's what you're telling me?”
“Yeah.”
He checked her ID, to be sure she wasn't under age.
Then he pointed at his crotch with his chin and lit a cigarette as she got on her knees and pulled his cock out. She sucked his tip, his cock, his balls, and he shot his cum deep into her throat, even before he finished his cig.
That's how it started. A week after his first day at the job. 
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After he had returned from Columbia, it helped him to forget his past life. 
To forget that he didn’t get along with his father anymore, after he had told him that he wouldn’t take over the ranch. 
To forget that he had lost himself in every woman he fucked, creating an endless circle. 
To forget that he had never drunk and smoked so much in his life. 
To forget that in the past some people considered him a hero. It was as if he wanted to prove them all that they were wrong. 
To forget that he had given too much to the agency for his life to end up like that.
So since that first time, he took the habit of spotting women he could easily convince. The easy targets. Either too shy, or on the contrary those who weren’t shy at all. He really liked shutting up brats with his fat cock.
He loved the hunt, he loved spotting those who wouldn't say ’no’ to him. Either because they wouldn’t dare, or because they would easily take the challenge, the thrill, the chance of blowing him off in his office.
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Javi sees a group of women passing in front of his security office. Twenty-somethings. He can notice these types of groups from miles away now. Young women who think they deserve everything because they’re pretty. Or rich. 
He watches them laugh as they walk past him. Look at him. They must think it sucks, being a security guard at a mall.
He leaves his office and follows them inside, at a decent distance. He watches them laugh, loudly exchange comments, barely hiding the way they are making fun of people who don't fit their standards. It only makes him smirk. He's seen so many of these brats pass by. 
His steps are soft, light. No one would think he was following anyone. 
He's dressed in his black uniform with the word "security" on his shoulder and his back. He pauses at the same time as them. Swirls his toothpick between his teeth, watching them.
The group finally splits up. Three of the young women head to a clothing store. The fourth, you, waves goodbye to them and goes to a record store.
He’s watching you, as you look at the vinyl record covers, then the posters on the wall. And finally, some walkmans. You don't know it yet, but you’re his target. Separated from your friends.
You leave the store, your big purse slung over your shoulder, open. 
He thinks that he really wants to wipe the smile off your face. So he steals a Walkman from the store, grateful that the mall management still hasn’t installed the anti-theft devices there. 
This isn't the first time he places an object in a woman's bag, just to get her in his office. To see how she reacts. See if she offers to suck him off, too.
He slips the Walkman into your bag, then lets you head for the exit, letting the detectors beep loudly when you’re about to leave. He quickly runs towards you, as you’re looking confused. He asks you to open your bag and you do it, sure of yourself, but then you see the Walkman.
“Come with me, miss. You'll explain yourself in my office.”
You object the whole time walking there, saying you didn't do anything. 
He’s already hard. 
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He closes the office door behind you and leans against his desk. Finding yourself alone with him in this office makes you a little uncomfortable, and you shift on your feet. He takes his time, letting your anxiety build, his gaze fixed on you. Cold. Frowning. Like an adult who’s about to lecture a child.
“So, miss. I have to call the police, you know.”
“I didn’t do anything!” you reply. 
“Well, is that your purse, miss?”
“Yes, it’s my purse. But I didn’t steal this. I can buy one if I want, I can afford it.”
“Have you never heard of kleptomania?”
“No, what is it?”
“What, you don’t have enough money to pay for college?”
You roll your eyes, deeply offended.
“Anyway, like I said, I have to call the police,” he says, reaching for his phone.
“Wait!” He pauses and turns back to you, raising an eyebrow. “Mmm?”
“Can’t we… can we work it out?”
“Work it out? How do you want to work it out?”
“You take the Walkman and bring it back to the store. We forget all of this,” you say, sweeping the air with your hand, as if it was just a nuisance, something insignificant.
“So you can steal again in a few days? I don’t think so.”
“I told you…,” you start to say. Then stop. “Can I offer you some money then?”
“I don’t need your money, miss. And I’m not sure you understand how serious this is.”
You bite your lip, and he sees your gaze fall to his crotch and he tries not to smirk. It's almost too easy. 
“Wait! I can… do something for you, if you want.”
“Like what?” he says, keeping his tone neutral. He sees you hesitate. Sees the way you swallow. He leans toward the phone again, forcing you to break.
“Wait! I could do something.”
He raises his hands, as if he doesn’t understand what you're talking about at all.
"I could...." you start to say, motioning at his crotch with your chin.
“What? I got a stain or something?” he asks, looking at the spot you pointed to.
“Suck your cock,” you whisper.
“Excuse me, what?” He sees you roll your eyes and adds, “I didn’t hear you, miss.”
“I could… suck your cock.” Your eyes set downward as heat reaches your cheeks.
He doesn’t answer, he makes you wait for his reaction.
“If you want,” you add.
“You’re telling me you’ll blow me, and in exchange I won’t call the police?” he asks, as he has done dozens of times before.
“Yeah,” you breathe out.  
“How old are you?”
“Twenty two.”
“It’s the first time I come across not only a thief, but also a slut, that wants to suck my dick to get away with shoplifting,” he lies to you.
“And this is the first time I’ve come across a security guard so corrupt that he’s willing to accept it.”
“Watch that mouth.”
“Or what?”
“Or I will fuck it.”
The way you squeeze your thighs together doesn't go unnoticed.
“Say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you wanna suck my cock to leave this office free.”
“I… wanna suck your cock, so you won’t call the police.”
“Good girl,” he praises in a tone you haven’t heard from him before. Directive. Dark.
“Now come here. Get on your knees and beg for it.”
You turn to the door, worried that someone might come in.
“Don’t worry. Nobody will interrupt us.”
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You walk over to him, as he’s leaning against his desk, and kneel down.
“I said, beg for it.”
“Pl…please?”
“Oh you can do better than that. Your father ever taught you good manners?”
No one has ever spoken to you like that, and the tingling between your legs makes you stop breathing for a few seconds.
“Please, can I suck your cock, sir?”
“Much better. Maybe you’re a quick learner.”
“Fuck,” you whimper. 
“You like that, huh?” 
You don’t answer, eyes fixed on the ground. He grabs your chin between his thumb and index finger and makes you look up at him. 
“No need to be shy or deny it. You’ve squeezed your thighs together twice in the last 2 minutes. Take out my cock, miss,” he orders.
You comply and unzip his pants, before sliding them down his thighs. He’s hard. You pull it out of his boxers and stare at it. Holding your breath again.
“Think you can handle it?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Well, you’ll have to. Come on.”
You wrap your hand around the base of his shaft and lick up the precum that oozes out. Giving it a few licks.
“Don’t tease. I saw you, with your friends. Thinking you're better than everyone else. I hope you can do better than that with your mouth, now.”
His degradation turns you on. You take him in your mouth, struggling to wrap your lips around his tip. You feel your panties soaking wet. You apply yourself, sucking the head, licking his shaft and his balls, which are resting heavily against his thighs.
“Keep looking at me when I’m letting you suck my cock.”
God, you think. You're so turned on that you’d let him fuck you right now. You lick his shaft, tongue flat, eyes fixed on him. Tears well up in your eyes when he forces his way down your throat.
“You wet?” he asks, his cock in the back of your throat, his hands holding your head against him. You try keeping yourself back from gagging, and nod.
“Get up,” he says, releasing you. “Take off your clothes. Show me.”
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You undress mechanically, then he grabs your hips and presses you against his desk, forcing you to spread your thighs, as he slides his body between them. He presses his hand against your pussy and hisses.
“You're dripping, baby. You need it bad, huh?”
You nod. 
“Say it.”
“I need it, fuck! That's what you wanna hear?”
He smirks then grabs his cock in his hand and thrusts into you in one go, and you can't help but scream.
“Quiet,” he says, jaw clenched, covering your mouth with his hand, and starts fucking you hard.
“Watch it. Watch how I'm splitting you in two,” he says, finally removing his hand.
“Fuck, fuck,” you mumble as you look down and watch his cock plunge into you, soaked by your wetness.
“Pussy’s squeezing me so hard, fuck. Turn around,” he says, as he grabs your arm and bends you over the desk. He thrusts in again and grips your hips, slamming into you.
“Worth it?”
“Wh… what?” You can barely breathe, let alone speak.
“Whoring yourself for a Walkman?”
“Shit… I didn’t fuckin’ steal it.”
“I know,” he growls.
“What?!” you exclaim, trying to stand up, but he grabs your shoulder and presses you roughly against the desk, the weight of his body on your back, as he keeps pounding into you fast and hard.
“I wanted to wipe that smirk off your face. Make you beg for my cock. I know a slut when I see one,” he says in the hollow of your ear. He slides his hand down to your pussy and brushes your clit with his finger. Slows down the pace. Fucks you gently, trying to get what he wants.
“Now you’re gonna come on this cock. You’re gonna give it to me, like a good whore, baby. ‘cause that’s what you’re good at.”
“You’re… a fucking freak,” you pant. But you don’t fight, don’t resist. A part of you thinks it’s hot, the way he got you. And you want to come, need to come, he’s fucking you too well. You let your orgasm rush over your body, your pussy clenching on his shaft. He freezes deep inside you and comes, covering your walls in white ropes.
He stays pressed against your back, his hands tight around your wrists.
“I knew I picked a good one, today,” he smiles against your ear.
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Javi p masterlist
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adrienneleclerc · 4 months ago
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Just A Bunch of Hocus Pocus
Summary: What i believe your couples costume would be with the F1 Drivers
Warning: spelling and grammatical errors
A/N: Drivers include Charles Leclerc, Lando Norris, Logan Sargeant, Oscar Piastri, Lewis Hamilton, Carlos Sainz, Max Verstappen, and the newest addition of Daniel Ricciardo. Most of the costumes were my idea but when i was stumped, i used Chat GPT
Charles Leclerc: Since Charles loves Harry Potter, i believe you two would dress up as Harry and Ginny or dress up in Hogwarts "uniforms" in general with the robe, tie, and scarf of your house. Maybe you guys would be Lightning McQueen and Sally because you sent him so many memes comparing him to Lightning McQueen. I also see you guys being Mr. and Mrs. Smith because who wouldn't want to see Charles in a suit?
Lando Norris: You two would dress up as Spider-Man and MJ/Gwen Stacy, depending on which movie or character you prefer. Han Solo and Princess Leia are also on the table, along with Mario and Princess Peach, that way you and the whole Quadrant crew can dress up as character from Super Mario Bros.
Logan Sargeant: You and the American Boy will dress up as Captain America and Peggy Carter, no question about it. Also, you two could dress up as an athlete and a cheerleader since he is, as Alex puts it, so painfully American. But to make it even better, you guys would go as Nathan and Haley from One Tree Hill OR Troy and Gabriella because whats more American than High School Musical?
Oscar Piastri: You two would be Tinkerbell and Terrence after making him watch all the movies with you. Iron Man and Pepper Potts if he wanted to go the superhero route like Logan. But he would also agree to doing a group costume with your friends and going as Numbah 3 and 4 from Codename: Kids Next Door which was one of your favorite cartoons from when you were younger, mainly because Numbah 4 is Australian as well.
Lewis Hamilton: I believe you guys would go as Michael Jackson and Britney Spears from that live performance with the green sparkling dress OR the event photo where Michael was wearing a red shirt and Britney had the leather newsboy cap since Lewis is very fashion forward. The Mad Hatter and Alice is another good one because of how elaborate the Mad Hatter suits are, it would be perfect for Lewis. Also because of your (my) obsession with Criminal Minds, you guys could go as Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia because who wouldn't want to be his baby girl?
Carlos Sainz: El Matador, el matador!! You guys would go as el Zorro and Elena and would look so cute! Another is Jack Sparrow and Angelica Teach (Puss in Boots and Kitty Softpaws if you guys want to be a little silly). However, Carlos would absolutely lose it if you guys went as Seth Gecko and Santanico Pandemonium from the movie From Dusk Til Dawn.
Max Verstappen: After you find out that Max hasn't seen the Halloween MASTERPIECE that is Hocus Pocus, you make him watch it with you and you guys dress up as Winifred Sanderson (or Sarah) and Billy Butcherson. You would also dress up as Richard Gere and Julia Roberts from Pretty Woman. I can also imagine you guys going as Hiccup and Astrid from How To Train Your Dragon so Max would be able to dress his cats as your respective dragons
Daniel Ricciardo: Hands down you guys will dress up as Woody and Bo Peep because the man LOVES to dress up as a cowboy. Barbie and Ken in their cowboy outfits is also a choice for your guys' costumes. I think he would love the idea of him being a cowboy and you as a saloon girl like in Westworld
The End
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demonpiratehuntress · 1 year ago
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Ace + (Name) Day
Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader
summary - part 2 to "marry me", since someone wanted the wedding :) Ace chooses his birthday to be the date of your wedding, and you wonder why until he tells you.
warnings - none
a/n: happy birthday to the man who never fails to make me feel better regardless of my mood, our very VERY special fire fist <3
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After proposing to you, Ace wanted to immediately start planning the wedding. Being pirates, you couldn't have a very big, very extravagant ceremony, but you didn't want one. You insisted that just being his wife made you happy enough, but Ace wanted you to have a wedding.
And he chose his birthday as the date.
Except that he didn't let you keep track of the date, so you wouldn't know he did that until the day came.
Marco helped you shop for a dress, Thatch baked an absolutely gorgeous cake and the rest of the crew decorated the ship as best they could to suit a wedding ceremony. Naturally, Whitebeard was asked to officiate. Ace even had backup plans upon backup plans for anything that might go wrong, a testament to how much he wanted this day to be perfect for you.
And when you walked out in that long white dress, a radiant smile on your face and nothing but happiness and excitement in your eyes, Ace swore he would have broken down in happy tears right then and there. As he watched you come down the improvised aisle, walked down by Marco, he couldn't take his eyes off you and felt them brimming with tears. You looked absolutely stunning, and for the first time Ace found himself speechless. His tongue was tied. A lump formed in his throat. He was marrying the most beautiful woman to ever exist.
Marco handed you off to Ace at the makeshift altar, which was really just you and Ace standing in front of Whitebeard's seat. You smiled up at your soon-to-be husband, and Ace's knees knocked together. It wasn't often that he got nervous, but you looked so amazing it was damn near impossible for him to keep it together.
"We are gathered here today to celebrate a love that is truly rare among pirates," Whitebeard began, trying not to read off of cue cards Marco held up from the back. Still, it was extremely sweet.
You barely listened to Whitebeard, your gaze transfixed on the stunning man before you. He did not wear a shirt, as predicted, so his tie kind of just...hung there. It might have been tacky to anyone else, but it made you giggle and you loved it because it was just so him. He still looked godly, so handsome you could cry. And the smile on his face...nothing in the world made you happier. You wiped a few tears from his cheeks as Whitebeard finally got to the questions.
"Do you, Portgas D. Ace, take (Last Name) (Name) to be your wife?"
"I do."
You smiled even more, as Ace hadn't even let the captain finish before he gave his response.
"And do you, (Last Name) (Name), take Portgas D. Ace to be your husband?"
"I do."
Now it was Ace's turn to smile, and you both felt butterflies bloom in your stomachs. You had been together long, but you still gave each other that sickeningly sweet feeling every time and it was only compounded now by the fact that you were making your union, your marriage, official.
"You may now kiss the bride."
Ace didn't hesitate, he was grabbing you and pulling you forward to press his lips against yours as soon as that sentence ended. He kissed you passionately, moulding his lips against your own with such fierce love that you could barely stay standing. His grip on you was the only thing keeping you from collapsing as he stole the air from your lungs with his absolutely breathtaking kiss. When you pulled apart, you were both breathless and Ace rested his forehead against your own with a soft smile.
"Oh, and happy birthday Ace."
Your eyes shot wide open when you heard that, and panic filled you. You hadn't realised it was already his birthday, it wasn't like you forgot but you had just not been able to keep up with what day it was.
"Ace-"
"Shhh," he put a finger to your lips, "I wanted to marry you today."
"Why?" You mumbled against his finger, blushing madly. "It's your-"
"Our day," he corrected, still grinning, "I wanted to marry you today because...(Name), I've never really felt like I could celebrate my birthday. I hated my existence more than anyone else until you came and made me feel like I was worthy of living. You came and made me feel like I had a purpose, and that purpose is loving you. You've given me a reason to live, a reason to exist, so I want to dedicate this day to you. To us. I wanted to marry you today because you are the best gift that I could ever receive."
Your eyes went wide again, before you smiled softly and felt tears fill your eyes, "Ace...that's so sweet. That's the sweetest thing I've ever heard. I love you, I love you so so much." You pulled him in and hugged him fiercely, peppering kisses all over his face.
"I love you too," he sighed happily, enjoying your passionate affection.
The rest of the day was spent celebrating the official union, with lots of partying, lots of eating, and most of all...lots of drinking. Laughter and cheering filled the air, and there was no happier atmosphere than that on the Moby Dick that day.
Later on, you pulled Ace aside and handed him a small giftwrapped box, smiling.
"I would have left it with everyone else's gifts but I wanted to give it to you personally."
He took it slowly, already overwhelmed by the love you'd shown him today, and stared at you in awe for a moment - as if he couldn't believe you were real. Then he opened the present slowly, and what he saw inside melted him entirely.
It was a beaded bracelet just like his necklace, only it had both your intials carved onto the beads, with a heart in between.
"This..." He looked up at you again, actually starting to cry again, "(Name) this is..." He couldn't even describe how much it meant to him. His hands were trembling, but he slid the bracelet on immediately. "This is perfect. I'm never taking it off."
"I'm glad you like it," you beamed, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
He turned at the last second and connected your lips with his again, arms winding around your waist so he could hold you against him as he locked you in another dizzying, world-rocking kiss.
"I love you, I love you, I love you..."
Praises and 'I love you's' fell from the fiery commander's lips repeatedly, his lips finding as many places to kiss on your face as he could. You smiled, giggling a little cause it tickled, and held him close.
"I love you too."
Eventually you and Ace were called upon to slow dance in front of everyone, and you happily wrapped your arms around your husband's neck as you gently swayed together on the improv dancefloor. Your head rested on his shoulder, and his chin on top of your head, and as you listened to his heartbeat, you knew...this was where you had always been destined to be. Safely wrapped up in Ace's arms, for the rest of your life.
"To Ace and (Name) Day!" Someone cheered loudly, eliciting even louder cheers from the rest of the crew.
You smiled at that, and Ace grinned, as both of you spoke at the same time.
"To Ace and (Name) Day..."
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a/n - i hope this was as good as expected! and again, happy birthday to our loveable, fiery goofball, Portgas D. Ace!
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holylulusworld · 7 months ago
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Every breath you take (9)
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Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.
Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: stalking, being stalked, loneliness, a man out of time, secret admirer trope, longing, first date, fluff, rusty flirting skills
A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader
Catch up here: Every breath you take (8)
Every Breath You Take Masterlist
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Sam Wilson is a patient man. Usually, he doesn’t lose his cool easily. But watching Bucky change his outfit for the sixth time only to wear a similar pair of blue jeans and a shirt makes him huff.
“Barnes, it’s the same shirt you tried an hour ago. If you keep changing clothes, you’ll run later for your first date.”
“What? No! I need to find the perfect outfit to impress her. I can’t just wear a random pair of jeans,” Bucky furrows his brows in confusion.
How can Sam not see that this is the most important outfit Bucky will ever wear? No, that’s wrong. The most important outfit will be the suit he will wear on your wedding day. One outfit at a time.
“Does she know about your secret?” Sam asks, and Bucky’s blood runs cold. Does Sam know? Did he find out that Bucky was following you for months?
“What?” Bucky hiccups. “What do you mean?”
“That you are a one hundred- and six-year-old grump,” Sam grins, and Bucky releases a shuddery breath. Phew, Sam doesn’t know. “I bet you didn’t tell her.”
“She likes me,” Bucky nods to himself. “Alpine too. She tried to save my cat, believing Alpine got lost.”
“I still can’t believe you bumped into the same woman asking me for help at the park,” Sam chuckles at Bucky’s angry expression. If looks could kill, Sam would be dead. “Don’t kill me. I saw her first. It’s not my fault you didn’t join me that day. Don’t worry, I won’t steal your girl. Even though, I could.”
“No, you can’t. She’s a lady, an honorable dame,” Bucky grumbles. He looks in the mirror to check on his outfit again. “What do you think?”
“Why do you ask me?” Sam laughs. “It’s a pair of jeans and a tee, Bucky. She already agreed to go out with you. You didn’t scare her off with your grumpy attitude. This woman is a match. Don’t let her slip through your fingers.”
“My therapist said it’s too early,” Bucky sighs. He already decided not to listen to his therapist, but he wants Sam’s opinion. With Steve gone, Sam is the only person he can talk to.
Sam furrows his brows. It’s the first time Bucky openly talked about his therapy or anything personal at all. He was surprised he told him about you. Now he speaks about his therapist too.
“Who cares?” Sam shrugs. “All I can say is that you are the happiest since you told me about her. Take it slow, and everything will fall into place. Therapists do not know it all. Just don’t be a grump around her.”
Bucky gives Sam a bitchface. He’s grateful for Sam’s advice, though. Hopefully, Sam will never find out about Bucky’s obsession and that his encounter with you wasn’t a stroke of luck.
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You’re nervous. Like really nervous.
At least you found the perfect outfit for your first date with Bucky. He invited you for coffee, but you want to look pretty for him.
Checking your outfit in the mirror again you smile. You bought an elegant retro polka dot and cherry print dress. The dress has a sweetheart neckline, a fitted bodice, and flattering cap sleeves. The blood-red coral ball stud earrings you bought round off your outfit.
Bucky is so handsome, and you love how he looks after you. If you mess this first date up, he could lose interest in you.
It’s been a while since you met someone you liked from the beginning. Bucky is sweet, and charming, has the bluest eyes you ever saw, and his cat is cute too.
You want this man, and you won’t let him slip through your fingers. No matter what, you will do anything to win him over.
Bucky Barnes is your while wale, and you’re going to catch him.
You twirl around, giggling and squealing because you feel pretty, and this wonderful man wants to go out with you.
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“Hi,” you nervously chew on the inside of your cheek. Bucky looks so good today. You don’t know that he changed his outfit again. This time he chose black jeans and a blue button-up. “You’re early, I like it.”
“A gentleman should always be on time to pick a dame up,” Bucky nervously says. He offers flowers to you, daisies, and one of his rare smiles.
“Oh, these are wonderful.” You accept the flowers with a smile. “Let me put them in a vase. I got something for you too.”
“I’ll be waiting here.” Bucky waits outside of your apartment while you put the flowers in a vase.
In a hurry, you grab your bag and the gift you bought to not let him wait for much longer.
“I’m ready,” you excitedly push the gift in Bucky’s hands. “It’s nothing special, but I saw this cute toy for Alpine and had to buy it.” Bucky unwraps the box, grinning because you bought a toy mouse for Alpine. “It’s cute. Right?”
“Very cute,” he agrees as he stuffs the mouse into his pocket. “Alpine will love it. Maybe you can watch them play with it.”
“I’d like that,” you reply without thinking twice. “Not today…maybe.” You don’t want to seem too eager. “Maybe we can meet at your apartment next time.”
“Yes,” Bucky hastily says. “We should go now.” He offers his arm to you, making you swoon even harder. This man is an old-fashioned gentleman, and you love it.
“Do you like living in this neighborhood?” You ask while walking along the sidewalk. “Do you like your apartment?”
“It’s a nice neighborhood,” he softly replies. “I already like one of my neighbors.”
You giggle. “Aw, I wish you lived next door,” you lean your head against his arm. “We could share food and have movie nights.”
“Oh—” Bucky licks his lips. Damnit, he didn’t think of moving in next to you. This would’ve made things so much easier. “So, what do you do if you’re not saving cats?”
“I work at an office,” you sigh. “Boring, I know. I bet your job is much more…interesting.”
“Not really,” he lies. “I-uh…I’m somehow between two jobs.” Bucky huffs. It’s not a complete lie. He still tries to get back on his feet. Finding a job isn’t easy if you are a one hundred- and six-years former assassin. If not for the huge amount of money Steve left him, Bucky would be struggling to make ends meet. “I was in the security sector.”
“Interesting,” you gasp. “Whoa, I bet you protected famous people. You seem to be very strong too.”
Bucky smirks when you hold tight onto his arm and sigh. This date is the first step toward a bright future, he’s sure about it.
He only needs to hide that he stalked you for months…
Part 10
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Tags in reblog.
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semperamans · 7 months ago
Note
Ooh kinda angsty thought! No cause benny would kill for you... Literally
The first time he meets your folks your dad asks him what he would do if someone hurt you (like your protective!benny blurb!) and benny answers honestly, he'd kill them and your mum laughs awkwardly but benny gives your dad a look that confirms the worst, benny is trouble no matter how much he loves you! - ✨
for all of my “but daddy i love him” taylor swift girlies, this one is for you <3
your father's cool facade begins to crumble when he processes the name formed on your lips. he lowers the newspaper from his face, pushes his glasses back against the bridge of his nose. "you're asking if your momma and i will host benjamin cross for dinner?" "yes sir." and your father knew one day this would happen - well, not this necessarily; he knew you'd find a sweetheart and have aspirations of folding him into the family, but benjamin cross? he silently asks god what he did to deserve such punishment. the boy's reputation precedes him. 'course, everyone 'round town calls him benny and you call him benny and your father thinks that is better suited. benny sounds childish, less serious, and let's face it, the boy has nothing going for him. i mean, it was just weeks ago that your father and momma sat near the radio, heads bowed as they listened to news anchor john phillips recount benny's wild ride through town. seven traffic lights, he ran! the boy is a menace so no, your father doesn't want him in his house let alone his table and he has no on the tip of his tongue, but then he stops, looks at your face and where did your pigtails and missing front teeth go? the woman who stands before him is grown, not his little girl, and you've got this look on your face he's seen before but can't place. he's quiet. studying. where has he seen that look? then it hits him like a train because your momma used to look at him with the same bewitched twinkle you have in your eyes. dinner will be fine, he tells you. sunday at 3.
the boy isn't wearing that dreaded denim jacket and for a moment your father allows himself to think of benny as just a boy you met at school studying some highly regarded subject, a future career practically locked upon graduation. but no, the sleeve of his too-small dress shirt jumps upward as he reaches for the salt and your father sees the tattoos and the burns and the scars and your future laid bare before him. he has to stop eating, press his napkin to his mouth and he's thankful your momma. she is better at this. she actually talks to the two of you, asking benny questions, and he's quiet, but respectful. your father hadn't anticipated him to be so quiet and its deafening when your momma steps away to grab dessert. your father figures it's time to say something to the boy. anything. he tries to remember what it was like when he sat down at your momma's table for the first time, how her father had grilled him, made him sweat, and benny looks so cool it grates on his nerves. is this unimportant to him? how many girls has he sat beside, promising daddies that he'll take care of their little girls only to leave them heartbroken?
the answer is none. you're it for benny and that's why he's so anxious. his hands are trembling, fingers shuddering as he reaches out, grabs the glass of tea and takes a swig as your father begins to speak. "tell me, benny," and you know trouble is comin'. "you gotta job?" "i, uh, yeah. doug's garage on 43rd. work on bikes, cars, things like that." "grease monkey," your father folds his hands together, clearly unimpressed. "you plannin' on doing that long term?" "well yes sir. m'good at it." "and you think that's sustainable? gonna be able to take care of my daughter slingin' wrenches around?" it's a loaded question filled with contempt. "daddy," you warn, but your father plows forward. "you see, benny, she's my main concern." your father is pointing at you, elbows on the table. he's getting angry, face turning red, mouth open to continue, but benny cuts him off. "with all due respect, sir, she's mine too." and then nobody moves for what feels like a lifetime. you're sure time has stopped, your momma is likely stood frozen with an icing bag growing limp in her hands. it's the strangled huff from your father that sets the earth turning again. "s'that so?" he drops his hands, smiles, even. "s'that why you take her to that cesspool you call a clubhouse? throw her on the back of that piece of shit you park down the street?" your mother practically squawks when she reenters the room, quickly putting the cake dish down and hissing your fathers name, but he can't be stopped. "see my problem, benny, is that don't want my little girl anywhere around people like you, people who'll hurt her." "i'd never." benny's fists are tightening on his lap. his eyes locked on your father's face. "let’s say that i believe you, which i don’t, then what about one of your little buddies, eh? or their friends? what are they gonna do when you bring a pretty little thing like her around, huh?" "i'd kill anyone who hurts her." and it comes out so stone-cold matter-of-fact that a chill runs down your father's spine because there is no faking the conviction etched into benny's features or coating his words. “doesn't matter who. doesn't matter what happens to me. no one is messin' with her." benny hesistates for a moment, eyes dancing back and forth, gauging your father’s reaction. when he says nothing benny rises from the table. your father has no words, his bravado flying out the open window as he watches benny take your mother's hand in both of his, look her in the eyes and thank her earnestly for everything and she just nods, almost numb as you join his side. "where do you think you're going?" your father rasps. his voice is growing hoarse, nerves pinching his vocal cords just so. "with benny." your face is drawn, eyebrows pulled together. "i love him, daddy. whether you approve or not. i love benny. n'that's not gonna change."
and as your father stares down at his picked-over plate, the distant rumble of benny's bike rattles the china in the curio cabinet signifying your departure and tears well in his eyes. there is nothing he will ever be able to say or do to deter you from benny. he just hopes the boy keeps true to his word.
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reallyromealone · 9 months ago
Text
Title: fitness
Fandom: none applicable
Characters: werewolf - reader -
Fic type: story
Pairings: werewolf x reader
Warnings: male reader, reader insert, female character, female werewolf, wife, heterosexual relationship, buff wife, house husband reader, bunny reader
Notes:finally I get to write fem character x male reader (yes you can request that btw)
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
(Name) Was always in awe at his wife, the tall muscular woman who could birthed their three beautiful children and (name) just was so stupidly in love.
And she was also in love with her sweet loving husband, a werewolf and a rabbit Okami were an interesting couple but she couldn't be happier.
"You wanna work out babe?" She asked (name) who nodded, his adorable apron around his waist, the house husband of their relationship "I wanna get jacked up! Strong like my wife!" He said excitedly as he looked up at the other, the 6'8 woman, just barely hitting her shoulder "alright babe but we're gonna be serious about this" she said to her husband, she knew him well.
"Go papa!" Their eight year old yelled as their ten year old recorded and the five year old looked a little confused but happy to be there, the werewolf woman looking at her rabbit husband who was in gym shorts, a t-shirt and sweatbands "let's do some stretches to warm up your bones baby" she said and (name) nodded, the family at a public track area as (name) didn't feel comfortable being at a gym quite yet. The woman noticed her husband's cotton tail twitching excitedly as they stretched, she liked how serious he was taking it.
Though she couldn't figure out why, her husband was a complete homebody who typically used all his energy playing those dance games with the kids.
The two exercised for an hour before the woman carried her short king husband who was drained from it all, to be fair he did not exercise much at all.
"Papa's sleepy!" The youngest giggled as she held her eldest siblings hand, the family getting into the car and everyone settled in and (name) exhausted from it all.
"How do you do that every day!" (Name) Grumbled to his wife as he plopped on the bed post shower, the woman snorting at him "practice and discipline" the bunny turning to stick his tongue out at her "so why the sudden interest in fitness, you hate exercise unless you get cookies" she teased (name) as the other looked away "I... It's stupid"
"Talk to me" she said worried for her husband and (name) looked down and fidgeted "your brother made comments about how small I am again, I'm not the strongest and you're strong and cool and he didn't see how our relationship made sense and--""my brother is an idiot" she said simply and pulled her husband into her chest "I love you the way you are, you're cute and sweet and caring" she said moving his face to kiss him "I like that you enjoy taking the more feminine roles and don't try and put those on me and still recognize that I'm your wife" he gets excited when she wears suits or pretty dresses, their wedding he kept whispering 'wife' repeatedly as he practically vibrated with joy.
"I like you just as you are, just as you like me how I am" she said lovingly and (name) smiled goofily at her "now don't listen to my idiot brother, he's single and gets no dates and you're married with three kids" she said kissing all over his face and (name) hugged her "now, let's go order dinner, you're in no position to cook after that stunt at the track"
"I ONLY TRIPPED TWICE!"
"and yet you fell like you slipped on a banana"
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iznsfw · 2 years ago
Text
The Rabbit
IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader Smut
9,623 words
Categories | maid!Wonyoung, if you could get the movie this is based off of you're awesome, blowjob, anal
Yep, I finally wrote Wonyoung. Who knew, right?
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Maybe you'll meet your end today. Tomorrow, if you're lucky. Either way, they'd find out. That's definitely certain; mandatory love is no winning game. Love in general isn't, especially when it's founded on merely scrawny and lustful sex. The lines between lust and love blur, and it becomes more dangerous than it actually is.
And one could say that it really isn't love (you've heard that a couple more times than you'd like) when you barely know anything about her, when your mind only dances with the thought of ruining her angelic self again, but they know you'd never listen. You refuse to.
So, where did all this—a young, gorgeous woman by the name of Jang Wonyoung in the crook of your arm, her hand on your cock and glossy lips on yours—start?
Well, to understand, you have to stay in the present and reminisce about the past, just one more time. You've to live in it as if the former days were the current ones and what's now is nothing to worry about. But you shouldn't dwell too long; the world out there is no land for lonely men.
-
1. HOP
Your nerves and fears merge and struggle as one as you line up to the counter. They've plenty of reasons to do that sickly collaboration that makes your stomach hurt, but you find solace with the fact that it's at least a nice hotel. The soft yellow paint on the wall makes a lovely pair with the yellow one smeared on the outlines. The rooms are all well-furnished, and the frames bear replicates of several famous abstract masterpieces. In general, the hotel possesses a grand and pretty aesthetic, and you would have rated the stay five stars out of five if you weren't hoarded out of your home and in here.
Everyone dresses nicely, too. The older woman in the line next to yours wears a blazer and a high fashion tube top under it, her main color all over being pink. On the other hand, the man in front of you dons a formal black suit. It's like there was a recurring oath all around to dress grandly that they left you out of. How rude of them.
Suddenly self-conscious, you smooth down your simple shirt and jeans. You're already making an exception for yourself from the expensive dress code; the obligation to look clean should at least be followed. There shouldn't be any crinkled lines riding the fabric of your shirt, or a single speck of dirt on your cheap shoes.
"Next," says the woman at the counter briskly.
You make your way forward. Said woman is dressed in mandatory, dead-looking uniform and has no sign of a smile on her emotionless face. She doesn't want to be here more than you do. She makes that clear as she flashes you a tired look.
"Name?"
You tell her your name, switching your weight from one foot to another.
"Age?"
"Twenty-one years old."
"Sexual preference?"
"W-what?" you ask. It bears repetition; you have no idea why the woman would ask that. 
She—(you should start calling her "Kim Gaeul" now; you've read the name on her breast pocket tag)—sighs, not caring to hide her frustration. "You know why you're here, don't you?" she asks. 
Her tone suggests that you should know. However, no idea comes to mind. If they ever informed you of your purpose here, the message got lost in translation in the stress of packing your belongings and traveling all the way to this hotel. It's a decent upgrade from your humble little house, but it can’t mimic the safety of the place you grew up in. You're basically being held hostage here—this place will never be home.
"I don't," you admit guiltily.
"Well, if it's not obvious, you're a twenty-one-year-old heterosexual—I assume—man, and you still haven't found a partner." 
Gaeul says it in this unnecessarily audible voice that makes you flush red to your ears. Everyone is going through the same, hence their presence in this very hotel, but when it's uttered out loud, it's like rubbing salt over an already throbbing wound. 
Your face feels hot with humiliation. "Yes? And?" 
"This doesn't go well with your purpose of being fruitful and multiplying," continues Gaeul. To quote the Bible in these times is… well, something, but you’ll let her have this one. "Here, you'll be able to find your lifetime partner—"
You're confused. "And how does being here help with bagging a girl?" 
"—and spend two weeks together to prove your bond to us." Gaeul glares at you, clearly annoyed that you've interrupted her. For that, and out of pure, unyielded spite, she dodges your question expertly. "You're given forty-five days, and, if by the end, you're unable to find someone who shares the same qualities slash traits with you, you're turned into an animal."
Well, you did not expect that one coming. 
(But, if your memory serves you well, the cop in the van that took you to this place said, as he brushed down his gray uniform: "They skin you alive to make you a little critter, that's what they do—it's heinous. Happened to an old friend of mine. Miss him more than ever."
"Did you see it happen?" you asked, his words stealing your attention from the lands running to keep up with the vehicle.
"Was told about it," answered the cop. "He said he wanted to be a dog. They took out his organs and gave all the blood to the hospitals. Dunno what happened to those, but they probably went down the same route. Wonder what kid out there got his lungs now, heh."
"Well, did it work? Did he become what he wanted?"
"No idea. All I can say is after that, dogs kept following me around.")
"You know," you say, leaning forward on the counter with your arms crossed, in hopes of appearing more in control of the whole thing than you actually are, "it takes more than forty-five days to find a wife, Gaeul. It takes years."
"Oh, really?" Gaeul gives you a condescending look one would give to a rambling, precocious toddler. "Didn't know that."
"Hey, I'm not doing this. I'm out."
"Suppose you're a Loner, then?" 
"I've heard that one before."
She sighs. "A Loner doesn't believe in what we do here," she explains tiredly. "They don't believe in love."
"Sounds like me."
"If one wishes to extend their forty-five-day period in finding a partner," adds Gaeul helpfully, her statement definitely not a thinly veiled threat, "they're required to kill a Loner."
You're stunned by how everything works. Just forty-five days to get a wife? Those who don't want to comply with the system being hunted down as a consequence? What has this world come to?
You look back in line. There are numerous other men and women waiting for their turn, and you're wasting their time and Gaeul's. Not that you care much for her since she's been rude to you since the beginning, but she does look like the kind of person able to make someone disappear off the face of the Earth if they don't fit in. What if you don't match her criteria either? What would she have the people in charge do to you? What if the animal thing was a lie and they actually just killed you off?
It's either death, becoming an animal, or having someone to hold. 
You haven't had the third one in a long, long time.
You inhale, hold that breath, and exhale slowly. Straighten your shoulders. "Fine, I'll do it."
"Alright. Sexual preference?"
"Heterosexual." You think.
"If, in any circumstance, you are unable to find a partner, what animal would you like to become?"
A beat. 
"A rabbit," you say thoughtfully. "I think I'd want to become a rabbit."
2. DOWN
"A rabbit? Really? Out of every animal out there?"
A small Japanese woman from behind you in line keeps you entertained now in the waiting room. She has short, auburn hair and a cute smile. Her cheeks remind you of dumplings. Speaking of, you can smell some of them cooking in the kitchen nearby. You can hear your stomach rumble.
"It just… feels right, you know?" you say, shrugging in your seat beside her, in which she's strangely pressed up closely to you. 
You haven't really given the animal thing much thought. You know that there's an underlying reason for it, but you can't really ponder exactly what. Perhaps it's a favorite animal from childhood? Nope, couldn't be it—your favorite animal back then was a lobster. And you can't even recall the reason for that.
"A rabbit… carrots…” You give up. “No idea.”
The woman nods understandingly. Her fingers guitar a rhythm on her knees. "Aren't you gonna ask what I'd like to be?" she says expectantly.
Alright, sure; you'll play her game. You've nothing else to do, anyway; you're just waiting for your room number to be announced. It might take a while, too, with the number of people waiting before you. The richer ones obviously get more privileges as well.
"What animal would you want to be?" you ask the girl.
"A butterfly. Be nice to just fly around and be pretty, don't you think?" 
"A butterfly’s an insect, no?"
"Insects are also animals."
Desperate to keep the conversation going to fill the eerie silence, which makes you grow more and more uneasy, you prompt more lines from her. "Are they?"
She twitches her mouth to one side with a thoughtful look. "I'd like to think so."
You're given only forty-five days to find the one, you remind yourself. You have to constantly give yourself reminders lest you forget about your new life here in the hotel. Here's your chance.
"What's your name?" you ask her.
"Rei."
A cute name for a cute girl—nice. Rei's adorable from head to toe. Even the clothes she wears are sweet. Her plump cheeks allude to that, too. "Well, Rei, you want to team up?"
Rei scoffs, suddenly moving away from you. Her face, which you once saw as adorable, suddenly looks scary. "Is that what you think of all this? A defense-offense field game?"  
"Uh, no, I meant that it’s—"
"No, save it. I want to actually find love here, you bastard. Love isn't a game you can just play anytime."
Yeah, of course it isn't; love is a fucking requirement. Does Rei really think she'll find true love in a world like this? You pity her Snow White enthusiasm for true romance, for a prince who’d sweep her off her feet without the feeling of obligation, but maybe she really wants to be a butterfly. You're not gonna stop her from what her heart desires; you're far from that kind of guy. 
At least, you hope so. God, are you becoming one of those men? 
Rei's obviously upset. From the pure shock in her face, it's clear she saw something in you that was quickly made meaningless by your mindset. She rises from the sofa, fuming, and walks away. She says in heated breaths that she needs some fresh air. 
You watch your chance disappear just like that and smile tightly. Oh well.
"Tough, ain't it?" remarks the man from the loveseat across the room. He's a lot older, and he looks like he'd be the best grandfather. He'd probably let his grandkids stay awake past bedtime and give them candy. Why is he here? Maybe he recently broke up with Grandma? "Finding a girl?"
"Don't I know it," you sigh. 
He smiles sympathetically. "It's better than being a rabbit," he says.
"I'd take a rabbit over a no-jerking-off policy."
That's how it works here: real life torture, in an unusual way, since they're depriving you of self-pleasure. They don't believe that masturbating would help find a girl. Gaeul told you earlier that if you were caught doing so—(and they will; they have CCTVs in the damned rooms, which definitely breaks more than a few laws about privacy and the like)—there would be severe punishments. 
You truly don't want to know what punishment awaits your refusal to obey.
The man chuckles. "At least you get a lap dance. That's better than yankin'."
"A lap dance?" you ask. Gaeul didn't mention that.
"Every night, a maid comes over and gives ya a good grind down the groin. You don't actually get to touch her or do the thing, if you catch my drift,” he winks, “but it helps with mating. Wouldn't want someone who can't get it up at night, amirite, mate?"
"Suppose not." 
The man sees the sparkle in your eyes. His laugh evolves from a soft, olden chuckle to a full-on guffaw. "See? There's pros in this place, too, getting a pretty girl on top of you every night."
"Can't the maid be my wife instead?" you joke. That would make the flow of things here a whole lot easier, if that were true.
He shakes his head. "Nah, some say they're part of the Loners. Wouldn't want to mess with them."
The Loners… you've heard about them during your drive here. You saw them lurking in the woods, guns cocked, with eyes flashing demonic looks at every passerby. While the cop told you not to make eye contact with them, Gaeul informed you about their beliefs earlier during your heated exchange: love shouldn't be mandatory. And you agree, but getting hunted down by desperate rich people isn't at the very top of your bucket list. 
You're a coward, but you like to think it's just you playing safe. One wrong move can land you in a place where your eyes would never behold the light of day again, where life holds no meaning unless a carrot is present.
"You're lying about the lap dance thing, aren't you?" you say finally. The world is fucked up, but it can't be that bad, right?
He grins. "See for yourself, and don't say I didn't warn you."
-
If there's anything good in this hotel besides the air-conditioning and paintings, it's the food. The platters served on the white-drapes tables make you feel more well-off than you actually are. There's fish skillets, sushi, gravy, and mashed potatoes. Spoons and knives of varying sizes and utilities sit on the opposite sides of every plate. 
"Guess I like this place now," you joke to a woman beside you. She giggles back politely, but doesn't respond; her mouth is stuffed with crispy chicken skin.
You eat to your heart's content. Pour gravy all over the hills of mashed potatoes. Scoop up unlimited rice and pair it with the soup. You wonder what kind of cooks they hired to produce these delicacies. Was there a certain secret degree that had to be obtained to be accepted here? A secret recipe worth signing an NDA for? 
"Good, isn't it?" asks the young gentleman across from you. It's clear he's used to grand dining; he's dainty with his chewing, and knows on which occasion a specific utensil should be used. However, his eyes are kind—there's no judgment in them as he watches you wolf down your food.
"Definitely." Letting go of table etiquette, you speak with half your mouth full. Glance down at his plate. "Do you usually eat that little?"
"Not really," he responds. "Just keeping room for dessert."
"There's dessert?" 
As if on cue, chocolate cake and more chicken wings are placed on the table. You take one of the chicken wings and eat it with rice, classic Filipino style. 
(Speaking of, you really, really miss Jollibee.)
Should you go for the cake, too? 
You glance at the cake, then at your growing belly. Fuck it. You slice a generous part of the cake onto your golden plate. The frilling of the dessert is made of flowery cream. The bakers decorated the top of it with coffee-flavored candy, which you fork into your mouth gladly. Your stomach and heart feel full, but you just keep eating. It’s rare to come across food this delicious, and you’re not going to waste it. It’s all or nothing.
"Let's take half and half for this bad boy," the gentleman gestures to the cake with a pinky, "and leave nothing for the rest of these fuckers. How's that sound?"
"What the hell, I'm in."
As promised, he slices the dessert smoothly with a serving knife and places a good amount for you, and another one for him. You're gluttons, you two, but it's exactly that which made you like each other. 
You become quite uneasy when you see staff looking at you strangely. Their eyes are squinted, and they’re murmuring among themselves, pointing in your direction. You try to look away, but they’re approaching already. There’s nowhere else to run.
"Sir, you might want to come with us."
You look up, ready to bear whatever they're planning to do to you. But then you realize they’re talking to your new friend, who looks nervous. The look in his eyes matches the one you’d see in an animal caught in a bear trap. He follows them anyway to the backrooms; the staff look pretty serious, and they don't look like they'd back up.
You've no idea what happened after, but you hear the words "masturbation" and "disobeyed," watch a few heads turn out of curiosity, and smell the horrid scent of burning skin.
You also hear screaming.
Safe to say that no one used the toaster after that.
-
You enter the chambers of your room with a fulfilled stomach. There's just a tiny amount of alcohol in your system, enough to keep your nerves at bay, and maybe a few mashed potatoes. You make sure to brush all that off in the tiled bathroom, using the small tube of hotel toothpaste and the children's toothbrush they provided for you. Drain it all down with mouthwash and leave your mouth feeling minty. 
You thought the bedroom would be as grand as the rest of the place. To your surprise, its design and furniture look like ones you'd see at a gas station motel, nothing more. There's no expensive comforter to slip under, or a tiger's carpet to rest your feet on. It's all just… normal. 
Maybe you'd like it that way. One day, it'll feel like home. You're not entirely sure about it, but you're hoping it'll happen.
You're just watching TV on the vintage television they set up on a small table (it’s a pretty old movie called Psycho) when a knock sounds on your door. Wondering who it might be, coming over at this hour, you open it. 
"Good evening, sir." 
A girl with braided hair twisted by dark bows in a stereotypical and an obviously fetish maid outfit stands timidly outside of your room. In spite of your tiredness, it still astounds you how she looks like an expensive, vintage porcelain doll brought to life. Her skin is as pale as the frilly, ribboned fabric forming the top of her black dress and the gloves that wrap her thin arms like a present. Her hands are curled behind her back, but they hide nothing, not even her nervousness. 
"I'm sorry," you say. She's pretty, and you would have done her, but you don't know what the hell she's doing here. "I didn't ask for room service."
"It's not room service," she says. She's tall for a girl, only a little shorter than you, but you forget it with how often she hangs her head. "I'm, I'm here to give you the… you know…"
"Huh?"
"The grinding thing?" the girl goes on. Her fingertips tap against each other. Her eyes meet everything but yours. "The lap dance?"
Oh, now you remember. Your mind let go of the idea, having trained its focus on the food you consumed, but now, you can't stop thinking about what this girl is going to do. And here you thought it was just a joke to get you going.
You take a proper look at her. She's really beautiful. That face and body of hers, visually striking and slim in all the right spots, doesn't belong in a maid's uniform, now that you look closer. She should be a model, strutting down the catwalk with confidence in every one of her strides. She should be out there walking for fashion weeks and shows, not grinding on random strangers varying from old and young.
(However, in all unfiltered honesty, you certainly wouldn't mind her rubbing her thighs and ass on you, or holding those braids as you plow her—)
"Who are you?"
"I'm the maid," she replies. She bites her lip, getting even more anxious about what's to come, but it just looks undeniably sexy to you, even if its effect on you is wholly unintended.
Nodding: "Yeah, I know that. But what's your name?"
"W-Wonyoung…" 
"Well, Wonyoung, do you want to do this? It's completely fine if you don't."
It's probably her first time hearing this because her blush is intense. She can't recall the last time anybody asked if she actually consented to her job. "I don't mind," she says honestly. She crosses her arms together and looks down. "I think I kinda like it."
You smile widely. "You do, huh?" 
"Yes, but I'm a little nervous. I… I've never done stuff like this before."
Her voice is small and sweet. Pair that up with her angelic face and the outfit, then it equates to her looking like the perfect fuckdoll. You can imagine a million different scenarios with her if the world were kinder: having her as your pretty little sugar baby, with Wonyoung always following you like a tail and calling you daddy. Perhaps as a young wife, too, who'd welcome you home in ways that stray from a simple breakfast or kiss. Oh, you lament those lost universes. 
But for now, you can have her pretty ass on your crotch.
"Come show me what you came for," you say.
"I—" Wonyoung shakes her head. She has to get a hold of herself. "Sorry, I'm just scared."
"Don't worry, I'll help you out."
Your lower body descends on the bed. And after, so does her tight, round ass on your center.
Your hands hold on to her tiny waist and guide her in her routine. She's on your lap, and you're in heaven.
The skirt, created and woven by the wealthy seamstresses in the hotel, is mesmerizing, but it's the natural way of her butt grinding left and right on your crotch that catches you whole, as if she were born with the ability to make the simple, subtle action of nuzzling her rear end on your cock feel like every good thing in the world. In that moment, you have strong faith that a million dollars or a good life can't compare to Wonyoung's ass.
The doubled pleasure from her thin safety shorts and her round butt causes you to let out a deep, guttural moan: "Fuck, Wony." 
"Wony?" she asks, looking back at you with glassy eyes that still hold impossibly delicate innocence in them. Oh, how much you want to see the corruption's lust bloom in her irises.
"Sorry." You throw your hands in the air with a soft, broken laugh. "Just slipped out of me, dunno why."
"No, it's fine," says Wonyoung. She winks. "I like it."
Temptation taunts you in the form of the young girl's skirted ass. You wonder if she's lying about being a neophyte to this; she's a natural talent. She takes care to press her butt hard against your rising erection, and pleasure its covered tip by grinding on it with a rapid rhythm. Your cockhead starts to feel hot and tight, and you can tell she's aroused as much as you are; her safety shorts are attractively damp.
"Does it feel good?"
"Yes." You hold on to her dancing hips that grind on your growing erection, guiding her movements to what feels good for you. "Mmm, fuck, faster."
"I can't, I'm sorry..."
Wonyoung halts and rises from your lap. It's a terrible decision to make; it leaves you with unfulfilled desire and her with shaky, buckling legs. She bows apologetically. "I—I'm not supposed to do anything other than that, sir," she explains. "I have to go now. I'm sorry."
You can't believe you were teased like that. And you can't even masturbate to get down from the path to your high. You've seen what they did to the man who was caught touching himself, and you aren't keen on having your hand shoved inside a burning hot toaster.
"Wonyoung, please—"
She exits the room, head bowed and cheeks flushed. You're sitting like a rejected schoolboy on the bed, with blue balls and a throbbing erection, and you couldn't be more disappointed.
-
The next day arrives faster than you expected, and you still can’t stop thinking about her. Well, there wasn't a minute in the nighttime you spent without thinking of Wonyoung. Although your eyes ought to be on the pretty girls aplenty who’re looking for a man like you—(there’s Miyawaki Sakura, the wealthy heiress with pink hair and a charming, camera-trained smile, and; Kim Jiwon, who would have stolen your heart with her cute, cat-like ways back in your high school days)—your mind remains caught up in Wonyoung.
Pick up your cup, and the black design makes you think of her dark braided hair, which would have felt amazing curled up in your hands as you have your way with her. It’s difficult to drink coffee when the bitter taste reminds you of how she’d taste infinitely better, if last night her crotch was parked on your face instead of your lap. Wiping your mouth with the provided tissue paper sparks a new lamentation: the similar smooth feel of her maid’s dress, and, with her slim shape, how easy it would be to fold her into every position imaginable just to feel her insides become disarrayed from your needy cock.
She’s like a dream come true, dancing in your mind as if she were your ballerina rather than a hotel maid. She’s a sweet, innocent daydream who knows not of how much she stays first in line in your train of thoughts. Wonyoung is temptation in its most innocent form, and it ruins you how you can’t have her for yourself.
"Hey, you alright?" asks the old man you befriended after Rei's rejection. He's still wearing his pajamas and foggy glasses. 
You nod, your mind someplace else. "Yeah. You?"
"All is well on my end, too." He lathers Nutella on the plateaus of bread and folds into half tightly.  "Did the maid come over to see you last night?"
Chewing through your bread (untoasted, of course), you shake your head. "Nope," you lie through your teeth. "No lap dance, no nothing."
"Huh, that's odd. You probably don't remember it."
"Or maybe you lied," you say.
"Nuh uh, your old man's a saint. She came over to me last night. Gave hot stuff here some action."
"Sure she did."
The man chuckles lightly before taking a bite out of his bread. Now that his eyes are on his food rather than you, you think of Wonyoung again. You wonder if your meeting with her is what love at first sight is. You’re unhealthily infatuated with the girl, and you’ve only met her once. Could it be that this means something more?
Unfortunately, you haven’t got the answer to your own question. But, when she comes tonight, you’ll find out. Your determination is set on it.
3. THE
And come she does; her meek voice barely has audible quality past the glass peephole on your door, but it does make her small face look unusually large. Her expression holds the same lamblike innocence to it, and the dirty thoughts all come rushing back.
Your heart jumps as you welcome her inside. "Hi, Wonyoung."
"S-sir," she stutters, hands folded in front of her skirt, "I want to say that I'm sorry for last night."
Her voice is sweetly precious in a way that, even if you didn't already like her, you would have forgiven her instantly. Her departure last night isn't a grudge you hold on her—she just wants to stay true to the rules, plain and simple. And there's nothing wrong with that; you play by the book, too.
"No hard feelings." You pat her cheek. Feel it become hot. "You're just doing your job. One more time okay?"
You watch the relief wash over her face. But nervousness settles in once more as she sits on top of you. 
Her bum erects your cock, sliding up its backside and teasing the tip like she did the night before. You even get a feel of a cameltoe through her shorts. Your hands find her waist and you help her sway her hips side to side. Wonyoung's constantly looking back at you with desperation tinting her gaze. She might not know it, but it's the plea in her gaze that's daring you to break the rules for her just one time. Just one time. 
Come on, it seems to taunt, you can live with a burnt hand, you can live with being a rabbit if it means spending a night with Wonyoung. Do it.
So, when she finishes her routine, the first thing you utter is:
"Please don't go." 
You've reached a new low: you've fallen for the maid's tight hot body and pretty little face, and now you can't get enough. You won't ever get enough of her, and that both satisfies and dissatisfies you. If she's so far away, how can you ever get to have at least a healthy portion of her? How can you lose yourself in her when it's forbidden? 
Wonyoung looks at you regretfully. "Sir," she begins, hand steadied on the doorknob.
"Please, Wony."
The nickname ignites a firework in her. The flame shoots through her trembling hands, pretty face, and drenched core. 
When did words alone make her feel so… warm? Her legs feel weak all of a sudden, and though she knows she can get in trouble for entertaining you more, invisible puppet strings drag her to you. Her lust, like some tumors, has formed a mind of its own, and it overpowers her logic already. It intends to keep her on the track towards granting her sexual needs. 
"If we do it," she says hesitantly, "do you promise to never tell anyone?"
"I swear."
Wonyoung nods, registering your oath and making a silent one of her own, too. "Okay, thank you."
"Of course."
"And… and can you call me Wony?"
You promise to. You swear on your risked life and heart poisoned by Wonyoung's presence that somehow thrives with the toxicity. 
To illustrate what happens after that, and how your pants and her underwear end up slipping off and her thin legs are suddenly curled around your waist, is difficult. It's hard to remember who initiated everything, or even make verbal guesses when your lips are entangled with Wonyoung. Any attempts to cover any hidden CCTVs should have been made earlier when your hands weren't on her thighs, lifting her to the bed and keeping her down there as kissing becomes the only thing you know.
You don't know if Wonyoung is a good kisser or it's all because of how plump her lips are. They wrap around your own with such soft security that the tenderness of it makes slipping your tongue inside her ignites feelings of just a tiny bit of guilt. But then you remember that corrupting Wonyoung from a sweet girl with little experience to a nymphomaniac is exactly what you want to do, and the guilt goes away almost completely.
"You kiss so well, sir," she says, much to your surprise when you've just completed an internal monologue about how good she kisses. 
"You're not so bad yourself. Fucking love these lips." You lick a stripe of lust over her mouth and she giggles. "Show me what they're good for, Wony."
"You mean, like… suck your cock?"
"You're a quick girl."
"I am, but only for you, sir." 
Wonyoung takes this as her sign to switch the positions, with you being the one on the bed while she gets on her knees. The size difference between your erection and her small face surprises you. With how small Wonyoung is all over, especially her little mouth, how can she take you? 
Luckily for you—and for the equally turned on maid—that's the thrill of it. She's big and tall around everyone but you, and that alone already makes you want to do the most unholy things to her. Show her who's truly the big one in this situation, show her where she belongs, which is below you, between your legs and making puppy eyes for your cock. 
The light dawns on Wonyoung's pleading face. She pouts, grabbing a hold of your cock and swiping it on her mouth, before asking, "Please? May I pretty, pretty please suck your cock?"
"You can anytime. Wouldn't mind if I pull on your cute pigtails, right, Wony? You'd let me tug on them while I fuck your face?"
"Oh!" Wonyoung nods eagerly. Is that even a question? Of course she'd let you. "Yes, yes, sir, please do. Wony doesn't care if it hurts. Wony only wants you."
Are those tempting words part of her training course prior to becoming a maid? Maybe, and perhaps closing her sweet lips cleanly around your dick is a lesson there, too; it's a lesson she passed with flying colors. 
Her hair's already twisted in your fingers, ready for when the overpowering emotion of lust hits. Meanwhile, her hands are on your thighs to guide her in pushing her head back and forth. Her eyes sparkle more than the stars in the night sky outside the window.
She clicks her tongue on the bottom side of your cock. Hissing, you make your first tug, mumbling her name in almost rueful tones. Yea, rue Wonyoung for how fucking sexy she is, rue her for taking your eyes off the people you're supposed to be with. Oh, yes, rue her. Her punishment ought to be what's happening right now, but she's enjoying it a little too much for it to be called one.
"So good!" she says pitchily, as if your cock were actual food that's left a lasting first impression. "Mm, oh, you're so big and long, sir. I love how your precum tastes. But I want the, the real cum from you, too."
"Wonyoung…" 
There's her name again, never leaving your thoughts but departing from your lips. You rise from the edge of the bed and poke your dick against the inside of her cheek, and God, does she look adorable. It feels good, too.
"Mmm, mmm! You'll give it to me, won't you?" Wonyoung looks up at you expectantly, speaking between effortless blowing. "You'll give plenty of cum for Wonyoung, right?"
"If you keep blowing me like that, I might as well."
The last three words come all rambled against each other, tied closely between syllables as you're losing your breath. Dragging your cockhead against Wonyoung's tongue and cheeks brings you a lot closer than you'd like, but you really don't want to deny her of what she wants. You'd love to spoil her with numerous shots of semen, all over her beautiful and angelic face, plus inside her prepared mouth.
"Oh, then I'll keep doing it." She giggles mischievously. Your hips are contained by her hands as she starts to bob her head. You gasp as you fill her throat and part its tightness. Her tongue teases your balls pressing against her lips and your throbbing veins. "Mmm, like this, sir? C'mon, fuck my throat. Give me your cum."
You aren't going to deny her of that either. Your cock enters the depths of her throat with the help of your fists pulling onto Wonyoung's braids. She lets out soft grunts whenever you thrust, and soon, her effortless blowing becomes difficult to replicate.
It's sadistic pleasure when her gags stimulate your cock even further, as if she were just another pretty little fuckdoll whose purpose is none other than that, and her mouth opens wider for air only to be filled again with cock. Her breaths are far away, and with your musky scent filling her nostrils, she can't even get oxygen. Spit and gags are all you can hear aside from your own heavy groans and Wonyoung's whines. A world outside of sex with her doesn't exist at the moment—it's just you and her, and there's no turning back.
And, even with only you and her in this universe, you still get lost in the warm wet pleasure of her mouth. 
The merciless assaults you do unto her face, using what's supposed to be the visual of the century being displayed in billboards nationwide as your personal fuckhole, make both of you scream. Like an experiment gone wrong, you explode in Wonyoung's mouth. Her drool slides down her chin as her tongue sticks out, trying to catch the hosed eruptions of semen into her mouth. She wants it all inside her, and there's no excuses that can be made for drops gone wasted.
That's what the rest of her face is for. You pull out and spray your cum on her. More explodes 
"Sir, oh, sir, that's so much!" Wonyoung opens her mouth wide and sticks out her tongue, her eyes closed. "Yes, thank you, I'll take all of it!" 
There are promises all over the world that are broken everyday, but Wonyoung keeps hers, true to her word: hands on her knees, like the obedient little maid she is, she lets your mess launch into her mouth and face. Even when some get into her hair, or a few specks roll down her maid outfit, she stays still and lets the tide take its toll on her.
It settles eventually, like all things do at some point. But it's made clear that this sex thing won't—you still want more. Like lust and gluttony, the sin of greed has taken over you. You long for more of Wonyoung, for her everything, knowing that this might be the last night you're ever allowed to see her again. They're sure to be watching everything going on. 
You stand to lock the door. As the latch falls into place as well as the dresser table for extra security, Wonyoung's eyes sparkle; it means that the two of you aren't done yet.
"You're going to give me the real thing, right, sir?" A good pet and a good girl, Wonyoung crawls, following your steps, and sets her used face on your knee when you sit back down. "Right? Please say I'm right."
You laugh. After stroking her hair, you wipe the cum off her face with your thumb and offer it to Wonyoung. She sucks on it, as expected. "Aren't you supposed to be leaving? I thought you didn't want to do this."
"Oh, but I do, sir. I wanted to but I was scared… but I'm not scared anymore. I want you and your cock inside me, now."
You dig your thumb deeper into her tongue. Wonyoung whimpers, forced to open her mouth wider. "I'm afraid you don't get to make the rules around here, Wonyoung," you taunt. "But maybe if you tell me what you want, I'll give it to you."
"Really?"
"Sure, why not? But don't get your hopes up, Wony."
"Hahmm, okay." Wonyoung's finger dimples her chin. "I want you to fuck me."
"Dirty little mouth you got there."
Wonyoung blushes. "You made me like this, sir. It's your fault. I want you to take responsibility."
"In what way?"
"No…"
"I need you to be more specific, doll," you say. You raise her chin upwards. She juts her bottom lip out. "I'm risking everything here for you. Tell me what you want."
"I want sir to fuck me… to fill me up like I'm his little breeding toy." Wonyoung squirms. She's getting turned on at her own words. "Yes, yes, I want that—I know it'll hurt because I haven't been fucked by a cock as big as his, but I don't care. I want you to fill my insides and fill every hole. I want you to make it last."
"Even if we might never get to see each other again? Even if you might lose your job?"
"I don't care if I do, sir. All I want is you."
"You're a desperate little thing, aren't you, Wonyoung?" you ask, smiling a little. "But that's good enough for me. Get on the bed."
Wonyoung obeys a little too fast for someone who's only met you once. Where is the hesitation from earlier? Out of the window—she's on all fours on the mattress, skirted ass and pussy jut out. She's shameless, bold, and you certainly wouldn't have thought she'd be this weak for cock if you had only met her outside of this hotel. Her angelic looks just sweep out all possibilities of sluttiness, or at least, you would have thought so, because why is she whining helplessly right now, all for your dick? 
Her soft sounds are subliminal messages. They tell you to spank her soft ass and have your way with her. They're so powerful that you do exactly that: you draw your hand back as far as you could and slap Wonyoung's ass cheek. Her knees tremble, and she's whispering your soft honorific over and over. 
"Sir, please," Wonyoung whispers. "No more. I need you right now."
She doesn't need to say it when her soft, virginal cunt dribbles a waterfall of wetness. You make it a point to let your fingers slap its puffy lips as well. It sends the little maid crying out in pain, but it couldn't be that if she's spreading her legs more, right? 
"Need your cock inside me," she says. She winces and cringes through the spanks. "Mm! Need it to ruin me, sir! Need it to make your maid too tired to work, please, please, please!"
"You're risking your job here, Wony," you say, a proud smirk on your face as you remind her of what's at stake, "you're risking everything just for my cock. And you've only met me once. My god, you really are a slut."
"Mhmm, I am!" 
"And you know what happens to bad little maids like you, right?" Throwing one last harsh spank, you lean over to whisper in her ear. "They get this."
Wonyoung screams a ramble of curses when your cock enters her. You suppose she's truthful about never having done much of this before; she's painfully tight. Grunts already depart from your lips at the first few thrusts. 
"Jesus fucking Christ." You're hypnotized by her reddened ass bouncing against your stomach as you drill into her. Your hands are wrapped tightly around her little waist to feel more of the round cheeks clap.
"Sir!" she shouts. She never gives you a break; her vaginal walls are always swallowing your length and keeping most of it there. "More, please, more, I need it!"
Wonyoung's pussy is better than just having her do a lap dance on you. It isn't even a debatable matter when it's wet just right for you to slide in and out of her hot warm hole, and tight enough to pleasure your cock like she was designed for fucking. Sizable breasts, pretty dazed face, and slim bod? It's hard to believe that those descriptions do not belong to a sex doll but instead to Wonyoung, but she's becoming one herself also.
That's exactly the reason why you're more than happy to give more to her. You glide your hands everywhere, feeling her beautiful body almost worshipfully. You're afraid to break her; she's so slim that you might hurt her with one wrong move, but your fear doesn't really match up with how mercilessly you're pounding her, how you're forcing her to scream out your honorifics as if the walls were soundproof. 
You're worried, to be honest. You know they're watching, and you know other people are still waiting for their daily routine with her. You know that the two of you could get in trouble that extends to more than a simple scolding. More clarity would have hit you like a brick wall in your way if it weren't for Wonyoung screaming:
"Yes, yes, yes, fuck me like that! Ha– oh!"
Wonyoung lets out a tiny exhale at your hands pulling on her braids. With the help of the tugs, your eyes enjoy the sight of her expressions contorting with the pleasure and pain. One second, she's pursing her lips and her eyes are wide open, and in the other millisecond her mouth hangs with yelps and gasps. Wonyoung is not afraid to show how she feels, which motivates you to keep pounding. Every flush drill into her naked lower body draws another orgasmic expression on her pretty face.
"That's right, Wony likes having her little pussy stretched out," you growl. Sex might as well be an exercise; you're straining your hips with how hard you pull out and push, and getting your hands sore as they grasp her braids. Wonyoung is merely your equipment. "You do, don't you? Pretending you're an innocent babygirl just to tempt me?"
"Y-yes," she says, biting her lip. "I love sir's hard cock! I love how it hurts, oh yes—"
"Of course you do, baby. It doesn't matter what I do to you, you'll always cum for me. You'll put everything on the, fuck, line just for my dick."
Wonyoung squeals throughout firm rubs on her clit. Her lower body sways and flinches, and she's beginning to struggle to keep herself up. Luckily, there's your grip on her braids to keep her upright, to keep her in position for fucking. 
"That's right, sir," she tells you. Her words are cut off by tiny gasps. "I'll always cum for you, I want to be the one you use forever. I don't care if we get caught, I don't care, I just want you."
"Of course. Nobody can fuck you as good as me. You're mine to ruin. Now cum for me like a good girl, Wony. Don't hold back."
She nods. She's almost there. Just a few more sunken thrusts into her warm pussy, and she's going to lose it. It's an ending she actually looks forward to. Being able to squeeze around you and to sheen your girth with squirt seems like an achievable goal. It doesn't even have to be time-based, too, she realizes, when her legs shake once more.
"Ohhhh, fuck! Sir, oh my god, sir, I'm cumming!"
Dragging your penis against her textured sensitive spot, you fuck Wonyoung into an orgasm. It arrives (you smile at the pun) like a heavy flood. If you were the one to spray your cum on her earlier, now it's reversed—Wonyoung's vagina squirts a mess of girl cum and nectar onto your lower body and the little clothes that remained on you. She's screaming so loud that you bet even soundproof walls wouldn't be able to hold back her shouts. No, the walls and windows would shatter, and the bed would break into pieces as well, with the help of her limbs scrambling to steady herself. Wonyoung has gone crazy, finally corrupted to the core as it contains all of your plentiful cum.
You tug her braided ponytails up and let her kneeling form rest against your chest. Her head rests against your shoulder, and from there, you hear her muttering senseless sentences. They can't even be called so when they're fragments of words that don't mix well together, but fortunately, you understand what she means: you fucked her really well.
It could go two ways with Wonyoung when you start to kiss her neck and shoulders: fortunate or unfortunate. She might be ready to have her other hole filled, but on the other hand, she might need more time to recover. But that isn't a matter you linger on when kissing Wonyoung's pretty collarbone and shoulders is a better task to fulfill. She's gasping softly, unable to moan because of losing her voice in her orgasm earlier, but you still work your magic. 
"Sir…" she mutters. Exhaustion rides her body like a carousel. It makes her weak, and your kissing doesn't help aid her situation. 
"Yes, Wony?"
She leans back more into your neck, and curves her head to the side so that her words play out next to your ear: "I want more."
4. RABBITHOLE
"You sure?" you say. This is probably one of the few times she has had sex, and it's only one night. Maybe it's going too fast? 
"Does sir not want to fill my little asshole up?" Wonyoung asks. She guides your fingers to her sides. As if her body and your hands were magnets, they join instantly. "Doesn't he want Wony anymore?"
God knows what Wonyoung referring to herself in third person does to you. Your cock hardens and bumps her ass cheeks, and you’re required to tighten your hold on her hips to maintain your stability. "I—I want you, Wonyoung," you say. "But are you sure you're ready?" 
She blushes. It's little caring questions like these that put her into the most passive state imaginable. When that state of mind imprisons her, she only wants to make you feel good. "Yes, sir."
There it is. It's your cue to switch positions, make use of as little time as possible to recover, and get ready.
You lather her asshole with makeshift lube. You drag squirt from her pussy to her rear end, using it as lube. Wonyoung, now sitting on the bed, watches. She's overcome with lust. Her puckered hole twitches as you tease your cock against it. 
"Don't tease me, sir,” begs Wonyoung. She parts her leg a little more, then leans back into the mattress. The way she’s looking at you with those sultry yet pure eyes and how her legs are spread underneath the maid dress are straight out of a porn. Wonyoung’s so tempting, so irresistible, that you wonder every now and then if she’s even real. She’s a walking doll from head to toe, made to fuck and be fucked, which leaves the question: why aren’t you filling her asshole up yet? 
You bunch together a whole lot of effort to push your cock through her hole. It’s a little less wet than her pussy, but god, is it tight. Wonyoung moans softly and tries to relax, but every push makes her impulsively clench down. You’re afraid that you might blow early, and you really don’t want this to end yet.
“Sir, sir,” she says, eyes widening to the size of saucers when you grab her legs and push them back. “Fuck, it’s so good, I can’t—”
You groan a little. “Yes you can, Wony.” Your thumbs slide up and down on her thighs affectionately. “You’re my good girl, right? You can take it.”
“Hnnn.” Wonyoung shuts her eyes. Her moans and whimpers are a series of pleasure that almost makes you forget about being careful rather than urge you to be. You’d love to hear more of those pretty moans from her, but she can’t make them unless she’s comfortable. “Is it all in yet, sir?”
Her asshole has taken in most of your rod. You suppose that’s good for a first-timer. It’s good enough for a little white lie. “Yep. Good girl. Can I move now?”
“Okay… just be careful.”
With a girl like Wonyoung, careful sex is out of the question. But oh, you try, you truly do. Make use of your shaft covered with Wonyoung’s pussy juices to lube up the journey inside her asshole. Let her wet cunt make it easier to slip into her tight, brown hole. You enjoy the helpless, corrupted look in her face and the feel of her pillowy thighs in your hands, and you can safely presume that she’s enjoying it, too. Soft hums of pain still barely make it out from between her knit lips, but her eyes roll back—it’s a different feeling, for sure, yet it feels good. 
“Fuck, Wony, you’re a tight fit.”
“Thank you, sir,” says Wonyoung. Her pale cheeks have turned red again. 
She rubs a finger over her nub so more of her juices can lubricate her rear end. It’s effective; although Wonyoung writhes with the double pleasure, the unusual method makes it easier to fuck her. Now, thrusting inside her is almost like doing so to her pussy: tight and wet. Her ass ripples beautifully, and her expressions catch you off guard. Her jaw is on the ground and her eyes look upwards, as if doing so helped ease the experience. However, she shuts them, as making that expression makes you hammer harder into her butt. 
“That’s it, sir, it feels so good now. You’re so big inside me.”
“Deeper then?” you challenge her. You push her legs deeper into the mating press position, and you can visibly see her pussy clench around nothing but air. You’re allowed to travel deeper inside her butt this way, and Wonyoung couldn’t be more ecstatic.
“Yes, hmmm! So hard, sir, I can feel you throbbing!”
Does a sir kink exist? If not, it does now—Wonyoung’s polite honorific has become the easiest method to harden and lengthen your erection. Each time she calls you that, with those same watery eyes and puffy lips, you’re driven to deliver hammered thrusts in her hole, whichever one. In a way, she’s corrupted you, too. If you erased the former innocent maid she is, she’s transformed you into a man who can only go weak for her. Other women have no effect on you when the hotel maid is the one you’d rather pin down the bed and fuck till she passes out. 
And she doesn’t even know it. 
“Fuck, Wonyoung.” You give in to your impulsive thrusting, wringing screams of pleasure from her throat. “What the fuck are you doing to me, hm?”
Wonyoung’s next inhalation of air is delayed due to the obstacle that is your hand wrapped around her throat. She whines out. “Sir, oh my god—”
“This is all your plan, isn’t it, you naughty girl? You want me to do anything for you. You want my cock so bad that you make me want you, too. And for what, hm?  For a quick dicking down? You’re fucking pathetic.”
Degrading word after degrading word leaves your mouth, but each makes Wonyoung thrust her core upwards to meet your clashing sex. She’s become paler, weaker, sluttier—all in the span of your furious sex session. You’ve no idea why you’re saying all those words that would hurt a normal person’s feelings and dignity, especially when Wonyoung is too angelic and pretty to be guilty of anything, but if it makes Wonyoung look like she’s on the edge of cumming at all times, then you’ll stick to that plan.
“I bet you like walking around in your little outfit, Wony, and wearing those pigtails, too, because you know people are going to look. Is that what you want? For people to notice how goddamned fuckable you are? Because if it is, it’s fucking working.”
Pausing is a faraway dream; you keep on rambling, and your thrusts remain rapid. A stream of ruined breaths squeeze out of Wonyoung’s mouth. Her pillow-like cheeks clench tighter around your cock, as if it were agreeing. 
“Sir,” coughs out Wonyoung. Tears spill down her face, but she keeps on rubbing her small clit, and, on occasion, fingerfucking her cunt. “I’m going—god, I’m going to—”
“Cum? Do it, then. Cum all over my dick, but we’re not finished. The night is still young, Wony; we have all the time in the world.”
Releasing Wonyoung’s throat does nothing to help her breathe when your lips crash into hers immediately. She’s screaming into your mouth. You propel yourself closer to orgasm with your thrusting, then fully cream her butthole. Wonyoung’s cum squirts all over the place: on the bed sheets, your shirt, and your cock. She stops rubbing herself, apparently giving up on taking more, but you continue the loop for her. 
Her screams continue. They’re a melody to accompany your thrusts, and your sleep, for you collapse on the bed, tired and weak.
-
You'll meet your end today. They already found out. That's definitely certain; mandatory love is no winning game. Love in general isn't, especially when it's founded on merely scrawny and lustful sex. The lines between lust and love blur, and it becomes more dangerous than it actually is.
And one could say that it really isn't love (you've heard that a couple more times than you'd like) when you barely know anything about her, when your mind only dances with the thought of ruining her angelic self again, but they know you'd never listen. You refuse to.
So, now that you remember how all this—a young, gorgeous woman by the name of Jang Wonyoung in the crook of your arm, her hand on your cock and glossy lips on yours—start, what do you do now?
Well, for one, you have to reminisce about the past and pray for there to be a future, just one more time. You've to live in what once was as if the former days were the current ones and what's now is nothing to worry about. But you shouldn't dwell too long; the rapid knocking on your door is growing louder and louder.
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waltat04-kevinknight · 8 months ago
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(Credit to @evenmorefatallyobsessed as he is the creator of these pictures)
Jaune was sitting on a park bench waiting as he looked at the current news on his Scroll humming a tune before his attention was caught.
"Jaune~, sorry we're late!" A feminine voice called out to him as Jaune turned his head and smiled at the voice and blushed when he saw the two older women standing.
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"H-Hello Jaune," Willow said shyly as Jaune admired her light blue shirt and deep blue skirt outfit
"W-Wow you two look absolutely gorgeous" Jaune says blushing as he stands up and the two woman smile and walk to each of his side and plant a kiss on his cheek, with Willow doing a shy kiss on the cheek while Kali does a more tender cheek kiss.
"Are you two ready for our date?" Jaune asked the two women as they nodded and walked with him through the park , enjoying their time together with their boyfriend.
Jaune knew Weiss and Blake weren't happy that he was dating their mothers but Weiss quickly got over it since Jaune is a far better man than her father and Kali lost her husband and needed tender love, both thins Jaune could provide. And both Weiss and Blake knew Jaune needed all the love he could get after everything he's been through, losing Pyrrha at the Fall, having to take Penny's life and then being alone for 30 years. They both couldn't be mad at him if he found happiness in their mother's, and they couldn't think of a batter person for them.
"So I booked us a reservation at a high-end restaurant in the city at 7 tonight I'll pick you two up at six?" Jaune asked them as they nodded.
Kali placed her hands on Jaune's cheeks and pulled him in for a deep tender kiss, tongue, and all, while Willow did the same but was the more submissive one as Jaune took control of the kiss. The two women waved goodbye and walked off with Kali, having her hand on Willow's hips teasing Jaune of what's to come.
Later that day, Jaune was wearing a black suit as he knocked on an apartment door, and it was long before he was greeted by his two lovers.
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"Hello darling~ hope you like our dresses" Willow and Kali said union as they both kisses his cheek.
"Oh, you look so handsome, honey," Kali says, admiring Jaune's suit.
"And you two look beautiful and delicious~" Jaune flirted to them as he placed his hands on their hips. "Jeez Kali, no outfit can contain that bakery, huh~?" Jaune asked, making Kali smile.
"That's right darling and maybe if you're good.~ I'll treat you to some of our cake~," Kali cooed as Willow blushed.
Jaune held them by their hips and led them to the restaurant where he pulled out their chairs as they sat down and had a good time, and even ran into Blake and Yang.
"Hey Jaune, how's the date going?" Yang asked smiling.
"Great we just finished our food and we're getting ready to leave, how about you and Blake?" Jaune asked as Blake perked up.
"Oh, we had fun, and we were just about to head back to the apartment to enjoy a movie. I'll let Weiss know how you three are doing. Thanks for being their for my mom. Jaune, see you around," Blake says, leaving with Yang.
Jaaune smiles and stands up, offering his hands to Kali and Willow, who take his hands and lead him back to the apartment and it wasn't long before Kali and Willow's dresses were on the floor, Willow's ass was in the air, cum flowing out of her pussy. While Kali was getting her pussy fucked with no mercy.
"Fuck Willow he's gonna break me~!" Kali moaned as she brought Willow close and kissed her making Jaune even more turned on as he smack Kali's massive bakery making her moan into the kiss.
Jaune kept thrusting as he watched Kali's massive ass ripple and jiggle from how hard he was fucking her old milf pussy.
"Yes, fill me out, my stud~!" She moaned as she felt Jaune cum in her pussy and pull out.
"Girls, I've been been to ask you something for a while now," Jaune says, walking Iverson to his discarded suit and going into its pockets, pulling out two ring boxes and comes back to them.
Kali helps Willow sit up as the two watch Jaune get down and one knee and open each box and drop the question.
"Willow Schnee, Kali Belladonna. Willow you do me the honor of marrying m-" Jaune began to asked only to be tackled by the two woman.
"Yes!" Kali and Willow said as he pepper him with kisses after he put the rings on their fingers.
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marzipanandminutiae · 2 months ago
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Since you recently reblogged that post about women's clothing, here's what the OP said in her tags in a post about defending corsets/skirts/parasols - needless to to say your tags about them hating people who enjoy those kinda things were spot-on
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Good fucking god.
Yeah, I read the whole post in your other ask with the link (I'm not adding it because frankly I don't need more of this horseshit in my life). It was basically them taking someone commenting on the OVERWHELMING trend in historical fiction of making all women who have anything of value to say absolutely despise Gross Icky Skirts and Corsets And (in at least one case I've seen) Parasols
(while also making them baseline Modern Feminine AttractiveTM, and that's definitely a facet of the conversation worth having, too. oh, your heroine eschews corsets because she's Liberated? funny because her tits look perfectly supported. forming cleavage, even. almost like she's. wearing a bra. and her hair, that is loose and not pinned up because Hair Up = Repression is perfectly iron-curled and magically never in her way. hmmmmm.)
and this person responded to that sarcastically like "YEP YOU'RE RIGHT IT WAS ALL FINE AND DANDY FOR 100% OF WOMEN FOREVER!!! THAT'S TOTALLY WHAT YOU'RE SAYING!!! HEEHEE I PUT YOUR POST UNDERWATER BECAUSE IT'S DUMB!!!"
which like. for the love of. just stop; that is so clearly not what was being said
as for the tags, she probably thinks she's being even-handed by acknowledging that some poor backwards souls THOUGHT they liked these things, as they were misguidedly "fighting against progress," but of course they had no other options so they didn't REALLY like any of it. which is just so infantilizing to me
look, the fight for women to be allowed to wear trousers was huge and important. because some women wanted to wear trousers! and do manual labor jobs that require wearing trousers, from which women had historically been excluded! and women who want to wear trousers should be allowed to do that; gendering Lower Half Fabric Tubes is stupid, we're all going to die, and you should adorn your meat-suit in a way that makes you feel comfortable (mentally and physically) and happy and confident!
but. it was a fight for options. it was a fight for choice. it wasn't happening because one garment was good and the other was, to quote The History of the World I Guess, an Evil Virus of Satan. did some dress reformers frame it that way? yes! because humans are human and some humans deal in absolutes! but they didn't represent All Women, any more than the ones who thought wearing trousers was scandalous did
and moreover, this is still coming at things from a baseline assumption that corsets and long skirts- and again, weirdly parasols? women weren't like required to carry parasols at all times back then; do people know that? light skin as a beauty standard is a big conversation to have, but there was no Parasol Law or anything -are universally impractical and uncomfortable. and that any woman who doesn't feel that way must be either brainwashed or intentionally impeding progress
the fact that, in a time when not only are western women are fully allowed to wear trousers but skirts and dresses are seen as inherently formal for some reason, some women STILL feel their happiest and most comfortable in them (and some people of other genders, too!) is proof that you don't have to be a mindless slave of the patriarchy to like these things. if someone came to me and said "you have to give up your skirts and burn your corset; Progress is here!" I would punch them in the face. and I'm a left-wing, feminist lesbian
nobody forced me to dress like this- in fact, society would probably rather I didn't, because it's not making fast fashion companies any money and it's not #ontrend. I grew up primarily in jeans and t-shirts like most kids, teens, and young women nowadays. I chose this completely absent any societal pressures to do so, and indeed, in the face of pressures to NOT present the way I do
and if someone can choose it without that kind of pressure...don't you think there just might have been women who would have kept wearing what they wore even with broader options available? without being Horrible Deluded Serena Joys or whatever?
also I'm sorry but claiming that modern clothes- and implicitly by the rest of the text, modern trousers in specific -have the same breathability as a natural-fiber skirt over a hoop is just hilarious. they may work better for ~your specific lifestyle~ as OP condescendingly phrases it, but wrapping your legs in plastic (or even tight-fitting cotton twill!) is just not going to have the Breeze Capabilities of putting a lampshade around your waist
...not sure why I even wrote this, since in the comments on the original post OP freely admitted that they weren't reading any rebuttals anyone wrote because "women were jailed for wearing pants [which they were sometimes! but that's not the beginning and end of the conversation!] so I don't need your paragraphs." this attitude always comes back to having set ideas about history that you're not willing to have challenged. anyway.
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bunnyywritings · 9 months ago
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lazy morning with the salary man & honey bunny
NANAMI KENTO x F!READER
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[a/n: day 1 of my b-day special event is here! i apologize if it’s a bit underwhelming…i feel like I’m still getting a hold of writing smut so i really hope this is okay!! i proofread like a billion times so I hope there are no spelling mistakes or whatever…also just a huge PSA for these fics, i am very much a mid/plus size woman who goes to the gym daily, when i use the term “little” it in no way refers to body type or size of anything, it’s more like a condescending/degradation thing…so yeah <3]
© bunnyywritings pls don't use my headers or writing without permission
wc: 3.3k words
warnings: somnophilia, cuddle-fucking, thigh job, mirror sex, cow girl…y’all it’s basically porn with no plot, no use of y/n, reader’s screen name is bunny (sorry not sorry), reader is also called: sweetheart, love, good girl, honey, baby
You had woken up early to get your room set up how you wanted so you two could just jump into it and as soon as you heard the knock on your door, it made you extra giddy. He would’ve found it amusing to see you tripping yourself up just to let him in the door.
And once you did, oh boy…the sight had you shifting from leg to leg, attempting to be subtle about squeezing your thighs together.
Kento was usually a put together guy. Handsome, well coordinated suits for work. Loose trousers and a button up, no tie when he was attempting to be more casual, even an occasional t-shirt and jeans to be really casual but you’ve never seen him this dressed down. A mouthwatering pair of gray sweat shorts and a deep green pullover that had a few bleach stains and looked well worn.
He hadn’t even noticed your lack of greeting because he was too busy running his eyes up and down your body. He was used to seeing your different get ups for your account and just casually as friends. He’s seen you in costumes, in your casual clothes, lingerie, cute silky pajamas but this, this was different. You were barefaced, wearing an oversized t-shirt that had a few stains you could never get out, boxers you wore as sleep shorts, and cute bunny slippers that a fan had sent you.
“Hi sweetheart…” He muttered, finally catching the blush on your cheeks and the dazed look in your eye.
“H-Hi Ken, c-come in.” You took a deep breath as he walked past, his cologne lingering as you shut the door. “D’you want anything to drink?”
“I’m okay, thank you.” You nodded, nervously biting the inside of your cheek as you approached him, having to tilt your head back a bit to get a good look. “So did you have a script or anything for me?”
You opened your mouth to respond but you stuttered when he gripped your chin, thumb caressing just below your bottom lip. “U-hm uh script? N-No, I thought w-we’d improvise…I hope that’s okay?”
His honeyed eyes softened, shifting between yours before he dipped down and delicately pressed his lips against yours, “That’s alright with me, show me where you want me.” His voice vibrated against your plush skin, the ticklish feeling making you squirm the slightest bit.
As the cameras rolled, you and Kento were snuggled up together underneath your pink duvet, legs tangled together with one thrown over hips. He was shifting around, eyes fluttering open as he “woke up.” A sleepy groan rumbled from his chest as he started to press featherlight kisses to every patch of exposed skin he could reach.
“My sweet bunny…” He mused, sighing wistfully. Peeling back the duvet, he gently removed your leg from where it was draped and positioned your legs wide enough to fit himself in between them and then doing so, his hands planting themselves by your temples for stability but before he could continue, your eyes snapped open. A sharp pain through your scalp makes you yelp in discomfort.
“Ow! Ah, Ken! My hair!” You laughed in disbelief as his face contorted in a quick panic before realizing that he was, in fact, trapping your hair under his palm.
“Oh! Sorry, sorry…”He chuckled in matching disbelief, moving his hand so you could shift over, moving your hair out of his way. “M’sorry love.” Your lashes fluttered bashfully as he pecked your nose. “Close your eyes, you’re supposed to be asleep.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
He continued again. Kissing from your neck, down your torso and lifting your shirt. He breathed a subtle laugh at the way your muscles twitched as his breath grazed your skin before pressing a kiss just below your naval.
Your resolve was running thin. How could you possibly continue to pretend to be asleep with his teasing? Ever the observant one, he could see how your squirming became a lot more noticeable.
Cheekily placing another kiss to your sensitive skin before finally pulling off your shorts a little roughly, your cue.
“Kento?” You sleepily murmured, hand blindly reaching out and pushing his soft, blonde locks from his forehead. His heart swelled, you were so sweet. So intoxicating. So lovely. And just for today, you were his. All his.
“Good morning sweetheart…” Finally pulling your shorts off, his breath hitched when he was met with the sight of your wet folds unobscured by any pesky fabric. “So naughty, hmm?” He teased. “Going to bed with no panties.”
He pushed your legs further apart, cupping underneath your thighs to hold them steady and spreading you open with his thumbs. “So pretty.”
What had caught you off guard was him leaning forward and inhaling your scent. A startled moan leaving you when his nose met your aching clit. He just chuckled and licked a bold stripe up your slit. “Just relax for me.”
You wanted to laugh. Relax? When his lips were wrapped around your pulsing clit, sucking messily. Impossible. “Oh my-” You choked out a whine at the spine-tingling sensation, his tongue flattening as he began to move his head side to side.
As much of a put together gentleman he liked to portray, Kento was a messy eater. The wet, squelching noises were almost too much for you. Your cheeks turning an embarrassing red at the lewdness of it all.
Kento could feel how you attempted to squirm away, your quiet and desperate cries stroking his pride. Your entrance was clenching around nothing and your throbbing heat was enough for him to realize that you were quickly reaching your high. Your knees met in an attempt to snap your legs shut at the overwhelming pleasure but his broad shoulders and firm grip was enough to keep them open. “You gonna cum for me, bunny?”
“Yes! Yes Ken…p-please! I’m gonna-” You were desperately grinding against his tongue.
And before the coil could snap, he pulled himself away with a vulgar pop!
Your heart dropped in disappointment, a displeased whine leaving your throat. Once again, he spread your lips with his thumbs mesmerized by your sticky cunt. He could just imagine how easily you’d suck him in, your warm and wet walls accommodating his length but he was frustratingly patient.
He looked up at you and smiled at your clear disappointment, a prominent pout pulling your lips down. He sat up on his heels, gripping the edge of your t-shirt and pulling it off of you. “Mmm so pretty…” He whispered, almost to himself, his hands gripping your waist and running across your warm skin. Despite this having been a planned affair, you still seemed so sleepy. So soft and pliant underneath him, it made his heart race. “So soft, all for me. Hmm?”
The reverence in his voice and his touch made you extra bashful. Your stomach doing somersaults as you looked away from his burning gaze. He took a moment to admire you, your breaths became heavier with anticipation, the wonderfully red hue of your cheeks and the tips of your ears, the way your hips squirmed, desperate for him. For his touch. He cooed as a small gasp left your lips, one of his hands cupping your breast. The pad of his thumb grazing over the pert nipple. He kissed beneath your jaw and gave your nipple a teasing pinch before stepping off the bed.
You sat up slightly and watched as he peeled his sweatshirt off, mouth watering once he kicked off his shorts and boxers. His cock on full display against his lower abdomen, tip a pretty pink and leaking precum. “Lay on your side for me, bunny.” He could almost laugh at how distracted you were as his hand gripped the base of his shaft before stroking up and down a few times, thumb twisting over his sensitive head. “Come on, be a good girl for me. Lay on your side.” The slightly firmer tone he had taken was enough to shake you from your stupor. Doing what you're told and laying on your side, your eyes widened when you were met with both the camera and your full length mirror.
You watched him climb back into the bed right behind you, his body warm against your back. “Scoot back just a little bit, honey.” His breath tickled the shell of your ear as his left arm wrapped around your midsection to help you shift backwards so your skin was flush with his. His other arm snug beneath your head.
Both your eyes met through the mirror. “Hi.” He smiled gently as you shyly echoed the sentiment back, mirth filled his eyes as he skimmed his hand down your stomach and to your thigh, your muscles jumping beneath your skin. You bit your lip as you watched his fingertips tease your inner thigh, edging closer to where you wanted his touch the most before moving back to your thigh.
“Please, Kento…” You begged so prettily, he yearned to pull more from you.
“Patience, bunny. Patience.” He tutted, finally gripping your thigh and prying your legs apart. “Keep that leg up, f’me…” He muttered, reaching between the two of you and taking a hold of his throbbing cock, hissing at his own touch. You were making him so unbelievably aroused, his will was starting to wear thin.
You were starting to become impatient, your interrupted climax from before wasn’t helping the feeling of desperation. He tapped his weeping tip against your clit, the wet plap! and the weight of him was enough to make you dizzy. He let his length rest against your wet cunt as he cupped the backside of your knee to keep your leg up. “All wet just for me…” He rutted his hips against you, a groan leaving his lips as he started a steady pace, just rubbing against you. The back and forth against your clit was enough to make your jaw drop in a silent scream. “My sweet bunny, who’s pretty cunt is this? Hmm?”
“Y-Yours! Oh my god- s’all yours Ken! Feels so good…”
“Maybe I should just do this, hmm? Make you cum without even properly fucking you.” He increased his pace steadily, your bed creaking quietly with the force of his movements.
“No! No Kento, please! Please I want- ahh!” The pleasure was clouding your mind as he started to glide so smoothly against you.
“What do you want? What does my whiny baby want?”
“F-fuck! I wan…want you to fuck m-me Ken! Please, need your cock!”
He chuckled darkly against your neck, “Since you asked so nicely…cum and I’ll give you what you want. Come on, be a good girl and cum.” He dropped your leg, a choked moan leaving his throat as you instinctively squeezed your thighs shut. His breathing got heavier and heavier, breathy moans steadily leaving him, your plush thighs and the wet heat that he was rutting into was slowly making his brain melt.
“You feel so good baby, fuuuck! You’re gonna make me cum…so warm and-and wet, shit- love this pussy.” He could feel your thighs twitch, the steady pulse between your legs giving you away. “Come on, cum for me…” His command was followed by just that, whines leaving you as you started to grind against him, your release making you slide back easier.
“Give me your cum, please Ken…please, please, please-” He felt the coil snap as you started to babble incoherently, stilling with a final thrust as he shot thick, white ropes against your skin. The sticky feeling between your legs was intoxicating as you slumped against him completely, breaths heavy.
Kento’s hips twitched, causing him to rut against you involuntarily. “You want to keep going?” He muttered against your glistening skin.
He was still painfully hard and wanted nothing more than to bury himself in you but he would end the scene then and there if you threw in the towel.
You lifted your leg once more, watching strings of your mixed releases drip from your thighs through the mirror. Kento twitched against you, his cock basically jumping in excitement as you reached down and pressed his head tight against your overstimulated clit, grinding against his sweltering member.
“Put it in, honey. Take what’s yours.”
You didn’t need to be told twice as you shifted yourself a bit higher to line him up with your pulsing entrance. He was in a trance as he watched his reflection, eyebrows furrowing as he watched his length disappear, your walls snug around him. “S-So big, shit!” You cried, eyes snapping shut.
He was so thick, filling you up and stretching you so deliciously.
“M’not even all the way in, bunny.”
He wasn’t a cocky man by any means but if there was one thing he was highly prideful of, it’s definitely how well endowed he is.
You glanced at where the two of you connected to find that he wasn’t joking. He already felt like he was in your stomach…but he was only about half way sheathed. Taking full advantage of your distraction, Kento pulled out til just his tip was being clutched by your entrance before forcefully thrusting the rest of his length into you. He watched as your eyebrows furrowed in pleasure, mouth falling into a cute o shape. “There we go.” He hummed, palm pressing down against your lower stomach, the sensation making your eyes roll back. “Feel that, m’right there. So deep…” He groaned, starting a slow and steady pace.
Quiet whimpers and moans left your throat as he rutted into you, eyes falling shut as you let yourself be consumed by pleasure.
Kento couldn’t help but think about how domestic this scene was turning out to be. Not that he minded one bit, but still. He took your lead and let himself be swallowed by the pleasure that was making his spine tingle.
Enjoying how wet and warm you were. The sun gently filtering into your room, the quiet creaking of your bed frame and your sweet noises were enough to want to lull him into sleep.
“F-fuck, Kento…m’so full a-and warm. You're making me sleepy…”
He breathily chuckled. “Yeah, would you like that? Want me to fuck you back to sleep, hmm? Use your pretty cunt while you dream?”
A particularly pitchy moan left you as you clenched down around him, his words making you so much more wet. Pussy squelching quietly between your thighs. “Mhmm, I’d let you do whatever you wanted to. Let you cum inside me, fill me up as many times as you want.”
“You spoil me, honey…fuck.”
He slid his palm down in between your clenched thighs and pressed his middle and ring fingers against your pulsing and puffy clit. The touch making your hips grind against his fingers, effectively fucking yourself back against his cock as well.
“I can’t…I’m cumming-hah ahh!” He felt your release as you twitched against him, his fingers rubbing gently circles into your bud to help you ride it out.
“Mmm that’s a good girl, ride my fingers…that’s it.” He hummed, pulling his hand from it’s place and bringing them to your lips. Watching the mirror through lidded eyes as you took them into your mouth and lazily suckled them. “Lift your leg, show off how messy my pussy is. All messy and wet for me.” You moaned against his fingers, doing as he said and lifting your leg. Pulling his fingers from your lips with a pop and pulling himself out of you.
He shifted you so he could pull his arm from underneath your head and moved to a kneeling position. He hooked your leg over his opposite shoulder, so it was diagonal across his chest as he lined himself back up.
You looked so ethereal, splayed out before him. Your beautiful breasts on full display, skin flushed, and a dazed look on your eyes. “Such a pretty girl.” He muttered, not missing the way you preened at his compliment. Watching the way your face screwed up in pleasure and struggling to keep his eyes from snapping shut when he pushed himself back into your sinful walls.
Now that his hand was free, you reached out, tenderly lacing your fingers in between his. Holding on as his slow, deep thrusts drove you to ecstasy. “Feel so good, honey…f-fuck. M’not gonna last long.”
“Please cum, cum inside me…” You whimpered. “Please Kento, cum with me.”
How could he say no to that?
So, with one hand still holding your leg against him and the other holding your hand, he continued to fuck into you. Steadily increasing his pace and absolutely loving watching you fall apart on him. Once you started to pulse around him and your hips started to twitch, he clenched his jaw. Holding his tongue as words that should not be said threatened to spill.
“Oh my god, I’m cumming! I-I’m-”
“Fucking hell…me too, I-” He groaned, stilling as he spilled everything he had into you. Balls tightening as he squeezed out every last drop.
You felt him shift and you panicked, squeezing his hand. “Don’t pull out…please?” He smiled softly at your earnestness, carefully placing your leg back down.
“Of course…” He did his best to keep himself buried in your core, laying back down and holding you close.
“Wanna take a nap like this…” You yawned.
“Okay then, that’s what we’ll do.” He was softening inside you, eyes falling shut as your warmth lulled him to sleep.
About twenty minutes later, Kento awoke as an intense pleasure racked his body. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and was met with the sight of your ass bouncing on his cock, leaning on his knees for support.
“Hah what a needy thing, so desperate for my cock that you couldn’t even wait for me to wake up.” His deep, sleep filled voice had your pussy wet.
“F-finally, you’re up-” You whimpered, not even halting your movements.
“Gonna make yourself cum already?” He teased, one hand kneading the flesh of your ass.
“Mhmm…so- m’so sensitive! Fucked me so ah! so good, Ken!” Your movements faltered, back arching as you came with a hoarse cry. He admired your body as you sat on his dick, shaking as you came down from your high.
He opened his mouth but was quickly cut off as you lifted yourself up and dropped back down onto him. “W-wait…fuck!” His toes curled at how sensitive he was, broken whimpers leaving him as you continued your, surprisingly, relentless pace. The noises coming from his throat was enough to push through the intense burning of your thighs.
“Hah bunny! You’re cunt’s squeezing me so- fuck- so damn tight! Feel fucking amazing, shit!” He gasped. “Cumming…m’gonna cum…ngh fuck me! Fuck!”
His broken whines and the overstimulation had you cumming one more time, Kento following right behind you, his thighs quivering as he weakly spurted the rest of his release into you.
Catching his breath, he sat up and pulled you into his chest. Gently pulling his cock out of you with a hiss.
Your entire body felt like jello.
He pulled you down onto the bed with him, pulling the duvet over the both of you and cradling your head into the crook of his neck. “Did so good f’me…” He whispered, placing messy kisses to your cheek, down your neck and to your shoulder. A smile pulling at his lips as your tired giggles vibrated against his skin.
“Thank you.” You pressed a few kisses to his collarbone.
His cheeks turned an embarrassing shade of pink. “Anything for you…”
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dimlylittorch · 8 months ago
Text
18+ MDNI
Club owner!John Price x transmasc!chubby!sweetheart!innocent!reader
I’m just craving to write something so self serving y’all- very much my kind of thing i like to read so I hope someone else might enjoy it too💀
My Masterlist🌿
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It wasn’t your first time in a club, of course. You went once with one of your college clubs, so that totally counts right? Then again, that was just a basic campus dive bar. This place was a little more high end, but it came with great reviews.
You decided to dress casually- I mean it was basically a bar with extra add ons right? Who wouldn’t dress comfortably? Slipping into a slightly baggy Hawaiian shirt and some solid colored shorts to accommodate, you walked in front of your bathroom mirror and looked yourself over. A usual outfit for you, but you picked one of your prettier ones for the benefit of the doubt. A tan colored shirt with a dark red and green rose pattern on it.. who wouldn’t think it’s cute? And doesn’t everyone love to feel like they’re on vacation when at a bar? It was simple, really. You couldn’t see any reason not to wear it.
That is until you walk into the place.
Women wearing nice dresses, some men in suits.. you stuck out like a sore thumb. You already feel the embarrassment rising in your cheeks as you start to get stares, but you quickly calm yourself. Standing out is good. If they’re staring for that long, they must like my outfit, right? Maybe someone will ask me where I got it- which leads to a conversation, which leads to no more embarrassment. Everything’s fine.
You smiled softly to yourself as you eased your anxious thoughts, walking up to the bar and leaning over it a little rather than sitting at a stool.
“Could I just get an ice water please?” You ask sweetly with a smile to the bartender, earning you a questioning look. Your brain quickly tries to rationalize why he looked at you that way- many people didn’t order water a lot so he didn’t know what kind of glass to put it in? “You can just put it in a whiskey glass- makes me feel fancy” you beam at him. Of course, the bartender still was confused, but you didn’t pay any mind. You didn’t think he had any reason to he confused, so you didn’t worry about it.
Once you get your water, rather than sitting at a table you start to make your rounds, gently wandering around the club, lots of eyes on you, which you ignore with a smile to every persons gaze you catch. As you wander, you reach the more strip club-esque area, dancers on stage and walking around with lots of people sitting and watching. Men cheering and women laughing. You decide to grab a seat right in front of the stage, pulling out your wallet and pulling out the few bills you had. It wasn’t much, but it seemed rude to not tip the dancers.
The next performance starts and a woman starts her dance in front of you, meeting your gaze once or twice. You weren’t like the usual customer, not eye fucking her and practically salivating in your seat. You were actually watching her dancing, enjoying the performance like most people should. At the end of the routine, most people start throwing bills at her on stage, which to you seemed a little rude. You gently stand from your seat, leaning forward and offering her your money instead, earning you points and laughs from most of the other patrons.
“You did really well” you say softly with a genuine smile as she takes the money before you sit back down meekly, knowing everyone was making comments about you.
That was definitely a new experience for her, not often being treated with respect at her night job. She heads to the back after her performance, seeing her boss walking by.
“How did tonight go?” He asks with a cigar hanging from his lips.
“Not too bad. Made a decent amount.” She sighs softly. “The funniest thing though- there’s some kid out there, being all sweet and handing me the money.” She chuckles. “Poor thing got laughed at pretty hard.” She adds before she heads down the hallway.
John’s ears perk up at her words, his eyes turning towards the door that leads to the audience. He decides to peek out into the crowd, and his eyes land on a young man in a Hawaiian shirt, slipping his wallet into his pocket before he stands up from his seat and starts to leave the performance area. John’s curiosity is peaked. How is it that a sweet looking kid like that managed to wander into his club?
As you leave the performance area, you start to turn back towards the bar area, when you hear a voice behind you.
“Didn’t like the performance enough to stay?” A rough voice speaks from behind you. You quickly turn around, looking up at a tall man in a dark suit with a white button down, a few of the buttons undone so you could see some of his chest hair peeking out. He was definitely older- but also definitely attractive. Your eyes widen at his words, finally registering what he said.
“No! No- no, not at all” you ramble out quickly. “It was great- I just-“ you chuckle, clearly anxious about saying the wrong thing. He was pretty intimidating to look at. “I ran out of cash. And I didn’t want to not tip the next performers.” You add softly.
John smirks at how anxious you are around him, fully prepared to attempt to make you flustered. “Or maybe you just don’t like men.” He smirks as he gestures to the next performance, a male dancer taking the stage this time. He watches your eyes widen as your gaze catches the dancer, your cheeks heating up ever so slightly before you look away shyly.
“I-“ you start to whisper, but he quickly cuts you off.
“You like how he looks, hm?” He murmurs amusedly. “His name is Soap. Why don’t you come sit with me. We can watch him together.” He offers with a smirk.
Your cheeks are already red from standing in front of one of the most attractive men you’ve seen in a while- but the thought of watching a strip show with him? Jesus. How could you say no?
“Alright” you say softly, shyly following him to a nicer table in what seemed to be the V.I.P section. You set your glass of ice water on the table, glancing around absentmindedly before you look up to him. “Are there any coasters?” Your soft voice speaks.
John can’t help but let out a soft chuckle at your words, leaning back in the booth and raising his arms over the back of it.
“No coasters.” He murmurs. It occurs to him that I probably have no idea who he is. No idea that he owns this club. It’s the innocence as a whole that intrigues him.. the genuine smile, casual clothing.
“Right” you whisper softly, taking the glass off of the table and holding it on your lap, much to his amusement. As he watches the dancer on stage, you carefully glance over his form, taking him in. He was tall, well built, but not too muscular. He had a pouch on his stomach area, but who doesn’t love a dad bod? He looks.. good. Really good. Sure, plenty of guys are attractive, but he just seems to have all of the good qualities mixed into one man. Strong, yet soft, intimidating but not scary. You felt safe with him, surprisingly.
“You’re new here.” He murmurs as he looks across the crowd, paying attention to the performance, as if making sure the routine is going as it should. “Yeah.” You say softly as you sip your water. “I don’t drink much.” You add quietly.
“But you’re here?” He questions as he looks at you, his eyebrow raising slightly. “Forgive me for wanting to adventure out a little.” You chuckle softly. “It seemed.. nice. The ratings were good.” As he’s about to reply, a round of applause starts off, Soap’s routine having ended. You quickly set your glass in between your legs, clapping as you look towards the stage with a smile.
“He did really well” you smile at John when you glance over at him. John smirks slightly when he sees your smile, and he reaches over, grabbing the glass from in between your legs and holding it.
“Wouldn’t want your thighs to get cold, love.” He murmurs with a small smirk as he looks off towards Soap. Before you can reply, the stage is set for a new performance, and a freshly dressed Soap approaches the booth.
“How’d I do, sir?” He grins down at John.
“As good as ever” he smirks as he gestures to me. “Soap, this is my new friend..?”
“Y/n” you say with a sweet smile towards Soap. It’s a little awkward considering you were just watching him grind against a stage. “You’re a really good dancer”
Soap grins and puffs out his chest slightly with a smirk. “I’m a good dancer in private too, if you ever happen to be interested” he winks.
“Oh buzz off Johnny. I’m sure there are plenty of people waiting for you back stage.” John scoffs.
Your cheeks redden slightly, a shy chuckle slipping past your lips, making John glance over at you.
“Unless you’re interested, love.” He murmurs with a curious gaze.
Your eyes meet his and they widen slightly. “No! No-“ you say quickly. “I mean- I’m flattered- you’re- you’re very pretty” I chuckle shyly as your eyes meet Soap’s. You see grins starting to form on both of their faces, and your cheeks heat up further. “I- um” you stutter. “Thank you for the offer” you finally manage to spit out.
Both of the men start to chuckle amongst themselves, Soap leaning over the table to get a better look at you.
“Pretty boy, you’re allowed to say yes” he smirks. “Unless I’m not your type..” he fake pouts a little.
As he leans closer, your hearts speeds up a little. “You are” you whisper softly. “I’m just.. probably not a good candidate” you murmur with an apologetic smile.
Soap offers a small smile, standing back up with a nod. “No worries, pretty boy. I’m always around if you change your mind” he winks before he pats John’s shoulder, then heading off backstage.
John smirks as he sees your reddened cheeks, his gaze affectionate. “Not a good candidate, eh?”
You sigh softly, taking a sip of water. “Trans” you murmur without much more explanation. “By the time I explain it to people, the mood is ruined.”
“You kidding?” I laughs. “Soap will fuck just about anything. No need to be worried about that in here” he murmurs as he finishes his glass of whiskey. “Cmon. I’m taking you back” he says as he stands up, holding out his hand.
You glance at his outstretched hand, blinking a little in confusion. After a few moments you take it, standing up and letting him lead you backstage.
tips and requests are open :D
haven’t been on my writing game lately so i’m sorry if this wasn’t that great!
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