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jobean12-blog · 3 months ago

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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,176

Summary: You and Bucky have been doing the flirty friends dance for a while now, the tension building but when nothing seems to progress any further you accept a date from another guy...

Author's Note: So I was just thinking about the hotness of dry humping and when you just have to find release in the moment and all that and I love the whole friends to lovers trope. There isn't a ton of back story here but it's the usual. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: fluffy, softness, tension, dry humping, confessions lol

“Are you sure I didn’t wake you Bucky?”

He’s standing in the doorway of his apartment in nothing but sweatpants that hang low on his hips. His hair is mussed and falling over his forehead, and you can smell the soap on his skin.

You try to keep your eyes trained on his face.

“I’m sure,” he says as he takes your hand and leads you into his apartment. “I’ve been up for a while.”

He rubs the back of his neck and glances at you as you take off your jacket.

“So, are you going to tell me more about this date…that was over at what eight o’clock?” he asks teasingly.

“Maybe it was closer to nine,” you laugh.

“Doll,” he chides, still staring.

You groan and hang your jacket over the chair. “I just wasn’t…he wasn’t…”

Your words die off when you see the expression on his face. His eyes are wide, and his lips are slightly parted as his gaze moves slowly down your body.

“What?” you ask.

“What are you…did you walk all the way over here in that?”

You drop your head to look down at your clothing. “Oh.”

“I probably should have thought about that but I…I wanted to see you and…”

“It’s fine,” Bucky mumbles before he swallows hard and tries to focus on filling a glass of water.

“So…the date?” he asks, keeping his eyes on the sink.

“I guess I didn’t really want to be there. I had other things on my mind.”

“Like?” he counters.

“Likeeeeee…um.”

“Me?”

His one-word response comes out quietly and as more of a question and when his eyes meet yours they’re soft and shy and a little hopeful.

“Yeah,” you answer, looking down as you twist your hands in front of you.

“Well, in case you didn’t get the memo before, I wasn’t exactly having an easy time sleeping over here…or doing anything else for that matter.”

You look up again and meet his stare as he continues.

“I can’t concentrate on shit. Sam keeps giving me hell because I’m not focused.”

You laugh softly as you move closer. “I know exactly what you mean. I’m so wound up I can hardly sit still.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, running his hand over his hair with an exhale. “I hate that you went on a date with another guy tonight.”

“I hate it too. I don’t even know why I did,” you say quietly, inching closer. “All I kept thinking, is that I wanted it to be you.”

He closes the distance, his eyes searching every inch of your face. “I should have stopped you and told you…”

You wait for him to finish, knowing this is all new again for him.

“I don’t think... I’ve never been this distracted by anyone before,” he whispers.

You’re so close you can see the small patches of gray hairs that line his shadowed jaw and without thinking you lean in and brush your lips to his.

He sucks in a breath, and you feel him press his body against yours.

“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he admits. “But I do know that I don’t want anyone else to take you out…to kiss you…to have you.”

“Bucky…”

His name is a whispered plea, and he tilts his head and closes his eyes, moving just enough to kiss you softly.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs.

There is no way you could.

Instead, you reach up, slide your fingers along the back of his neck and press your lips more firmly to his.

And then he pushes forward, closer, lining up your bodies so that you can feel the hard shape of him against your stomach.

Your hand slides along his skin and you feel the solid strength of muscle in his back as he walks you backward until you fall gently onto the couch.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispers against your lips.

He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes and sweeps his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Me either,” you tell him, shifting until his length is pressed right between your legs.

He swears and dips back down to kiss you. Your hips roll and his face falls to your neck with a groan.

“Fuck that feels good,” he murmurs, moving with you.

The material of his sweatpants is thin and your sleep shorts even thinner and you can feel every inch of him.

Your hips press up from the couch and you give his hair a tug.

“That’s it doll,” he says. “Don’t stop.”

His mouth follows his hands everywhere and you grow more and more desperate, searching for friction as you rub against him repeatedly.

“Bucky,” you gasp.

He rocks his hips forward and against you, the perfect drag of heat and pressure just where you need it.

Your fingers twist into his hair and you feel yourself start to fall, closing your eyes as your release rushes through your body. You cry out his name and feel his hips move faster, his grip tight on your skin as he grunts into your neck when he comes.

He collapses against you, his breath warm on your skin before pushing up onto his elbows and looking down at you with a sweet, drowsy, and almost timid expression.

“Hey doll,” he says, his lips tilting into a lopsided smirk.

“Hiya Buck,” you whisper, running a hand over his hair.

“Doing that made me feel young again,” he chuckles. “Like a teenager.”

Your smile is bright as you trace the crinkle lines around his eyes. “I didn’t think that was possible.”

He feigns an appalled look and then brushes his nose to yours with a smirk.

“You just made me come in my pants. I have no control when it comes to you.”

“Is that a bad thing?” you ask with a soft smile.

“No,” he murmurs. “Definitely not.”

His large hand cradles your cheek, and he kisses your forehead, then your temple, his lips moving slowly along your skin until they meet the spot just below your ear.

“I…um…I don’t mean to run off,” he starts. “But I just want to clean up and change.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, and you start to giggle, patting his back.

He kisses you softly once, then twice before he pushes himself up but then he pauses, hovering above you, and as if he can’t bear to leave you his body covers yours again and he kisses you with more urgency.

When he pulls away his breathing is heavy, and his eyes are hooded.

“I want to stay with you tonight Bucky,” you whisper.

He watches you for a moment, never breaking eye contact, waiting for you to change your mind.

You stare right back and wait for his answer.

“If you stay…” he starts.

You’re already nodding. “I know.”

“I’m not going to be able to have you in my bed and not…I might not be able to go slow.”

You pull him down for another kiss. “I know.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 years ago

Note

Hiiii, I loveeeee ur work ❤️

I was thinking about a head cannon of how some of the mw2 characters (ghost, soap, König, etc) would react to their partner sending them a nude photo?👀👀👀

Sorry if you did this already but I’m pretty sure you haven’t tho cuz I definitely would have read it already 😭

MW2 Reaction to Receiving a Special™ Photo from Their S/O

Warnings: 18+ (just to be safe), Non-Specific/Explicit Implications of Smut, No Pronouns used for Reader except 'You', Singular Mention of Graves Throwing Himself off a Cliff, Dominant! MW2, Submissive! MW2, Dominant! Reader, Submissive! Reader, Profanity, etc.

Ghost

He will literally stare bug-eyed at the picture you’ve sent him like 👁️O👁️

Since it’s a physical photograph, he keeps it on him like a chapstick, which is to say all the time.

He isn’t risking ANYONE besides himself seeing it.

And when he’s about to embark on a mission, he keeps it tucked into his vest right where his heart is so that it’s practically part of him.

He likes to think that, somehow, you can hear – feel – his heart beating, know that he’s still alive and fighting so that he can come home and see you.

And when he returns from a mission and goes to his quarters, he has some…alone time.

You know, to really study the picture.

Not that he doesn’t know every curve and edge of your body already.

But that doesn't stop him growling your name into the pillow as he rocks against it, a hole cut into the bottom of it – a poor imitation of you.

A makeshift lover.

If anyone ends up seeing that picture – if they stole it from him, if by some act of God (because that’s what it’ll take) it slipped out of his vest or pocket – they are in for a World of Pain™.

There won’t be a time they won’t flinch upon hearing Ghost’s name, or when they see his shadow like an omen on the wall as he commandeers the halls. Prowling.

He’d feel pretty guilty about someone else seeing you how he does, even if it was only for a fraction of a second.

So he’s definitely going to make it up to you when he gets back <3

König

His heart can’t take this kind of torment.

He’ll be looking down at his phone, the image of you burning into his skin like a holy artefact.

He definitely gets more jumpy around people when he has his phone on him.

Will literally clam up and shove it into the deepest recesses of his pocket if someone comes too close.

Even when your picture is safely stored behind a password-protected photo album.

He has to excuse himself from training or other commitments whenever his mind wanders back to you, and subsequently that image (which is basically all the time).

Sometimes he calls you while he’s sorting himself out.

He just needs to hear your voice – to feel closer to you.

It’s the only way he can finish.

“Engel,” he rasps, his breath stuttering, “I need you,”

And everyone just looks at him like he’s grown a third eye when he returns because, unbeknownst to him, König can’t keep quiet, and everyone who has never heard even a peep from him is suddenly aware of the carnality that lies beneath his skin, wired into his soul.

And at the centre is his love for you, boundless and overflowing so that the rest of his teammates know it, too.

Not that they mind all too much.

They all sit and think that you must be one beautiful person to evoke such a response from König.

Soap

Will tease you back.

Sends a mirror pic of him in a tight black shirt, saying something like ‘You’ll see the rest when I get home.’

Is absolutely ravenous when it comes to you.

No cap, goes absolutely ham in the shower when the image of you in nothing flashes in his mind.

His low moans are enough of a warning for the rest of the 141 to stay away for the next half an hour or so.

Aside from that, he’ll just look at the picture because he finds you beautiful.

Stares at it while he’s in bed. Laments on how much he misses you ☹️.

He’s counting down the days until he can see you again, and with each that passes, he can feel your silhouette becoming tangible in his hands, as if you were stepping out of the photo.

Sometimes, he dreams that you’re there with him, nestled between his arms.

Other times the dreams are a little more…graphic.

But Johnny can’t help it.

He just can’t contain himself when it comes to you.

Valeria

If you thought her violent tendencies could never extend to you, prepare to be amazed.

The second this woman sees what you’re trying to do – or, rather, what she thinks you’re trying to do – she is not happy.

You could have sent that image with the purest (within reason) of intentions; just letting Valeria know that you miss her, wishing her a good day – whatever.

What she sees is you trying to manipulate her by using your body as an instrument of destruction.

Dramatic, yes. But Valeria has never been one to take chances.

She’ll be deceptively calm over text: ‘Don’t tease me, Darling. You know what happens when you do.’

All day, all she can see is that image.

Whenever she turns a corner, you’re there; whenever she’s talking to someone, you’re peering at her over their shoulder; when she’s alone, you’re sat with her – on her – trying to take her attention away from her paperwork.

Redemption is a baseless concept when Valeria returns home that evening.

You will not know rest until she’s done with you.

Price

“Fuckin’ Hell, Love,” he’ll say, the darkness hanging on his voice tangible even through the voice note.

“What’ve you been up to while I’ve been away, hmm ?”

Will not rest until he knows he’s got you hot and bothered.

This entails him sending increasingly risqué images of himself; first, just one of him flexing, his arms thick and crawling with veins.

The next is of his shirt raised just below his chest, the dim light of the room keeping enough of him shrouded that his identity is unknown to all but you, his wide silhouette taking up most of the picture.

And, if you decide to be resilient against his attempts to make you feel as you have him, you’ll receive a series of menacing messages.

‘Don’t get too comfortable, Angel’, he’ll say.

‘You never know when I’ll come through that door–’

He grins as he sees you’ve read his message, hanging on his every word.

‘And ravage you.’

And you know he means it, too.

Meanwhile, he’s multitasking; keeping a clear, professional head and giving orders while resisting the primal urge to drop everything and find you.

And no amount of pleading or tears will spare you from his wrath when he returns.

Horangi

Regardless of how well the military life trained his self-discipline, nothing can dampen the sheer need Horangi feels whenever he receives a special picture from you.

I’m talking: he will literally sit in silence for ten minutes because he’s got a raging issue he needs to take care of but can’t risk anyone else seeing it.

Will thunder down the hall to the nearest bathroom when the meeting’s over and take out his frustrations there.

When he calls, you’d better pick up the first time.

If you don’t, you’ll have Hell to pay when gets home.

“Baby,” he breathes down the phone, the fog already making his mind frost over, his body burning up.

“What have you done to me–”

These brief encounters are the only thing keeping him sane while he’s away; they make him feel closer to you.

And, repaying you in kind, he returns one night, in the silence of the moon hours.

He finds you, pulls you to him, clutching on tight as you begin to wake.

And, between delirium and consciousness, his voice is all you can hear.

“Shouldn’t have tested me, Sweetheart,” he says, whispering as though partaking in a secret.

“Now I’m going to have to challenge you.” His arms are snakes as they constrict you.

“Fall asleep before I’m done with you, and I promise there will be no end to your suffering.”

Alejandro

Teasing a man as passionate as Alejandro is not going to end well for everyone involved.

Expect to receive a barrage of very choice texts back.

‘You have no idea what you’re doing to me’, he’ll say, followed by a photo of the tent in his trousers.

And a sinister: ‘But you will’.

If he’s away on business for even just a few days, he’ll go practically feral whenever he sees that picture of you.

To everyone else, he’ll be the leader Alejandro Vargas they all know him as – ruthless and righteous.

Yet, there’s something different in the way he walks as he excuses himself from the table, his destination unknown.

His gaze is narrowed and his teeth are grinding, rabid in disposition.

And when he gets home, no matter how long of a day it’s been, you’re in for a very long night.

He’ll appear behind you, a spectre, clamping a hand down on your shoulder.

“You shouldn’t test a soldier, Love,” he says, his grip tightening.

You don't turn around, an exhilarating fear keeping you frozen.

He leans down, his mouth just at your ear, his breath hot.

“Because you never know when he’ll snap.”

Rodolfo

This man is usually rather quiet and submissive when it comes to the more personal aspects of your life together.

But when you send him a picture that makes him question how long he can keep his composure for, you’re in trouble.

You’ll be receiving a phone call from a very exasperated Rodolfo, who, despite his best efforts, has succumbed to your charm.

Definitely a growler when he’s in a dominant mood.

More of a whimperer when he’s not.

At times like these, you get both.

“Darling,” he breathes, the back of his head pressed against the cold cubicle wall. “Look what you’ve done to me…”

His whining is more than enough to let you know the effect you’ve had on him.

And it’s what he says next that makes your blood run cold.

“I won’t let you get away with this.”

The husking baritone in his voice tells you he’s being truthful.

And if you try to clap back with something witty, or even an apology, Rodolfo just laughs.

“The time for mercy is long past, mi Amor,” he tells you.

“All you can do now is prepare for the Reckoning.”

Graves

This smug idiot.

Definitely smirks to himself when he gets that picture.

Has to resist the urge to show it off to everyone in the boardroom because he’s just that proud to have you as his partner.

Yes, he is hard. Yes, he’s still going to give this presentation in front of all the major shareholders.

Why ?

Because he’s Graves. Also, because he knows he has more money than everyone else in that room, and, consequently, more power.

Will shoot you back a text like: ‘Mighty fine work, Babydoll’, followed by, ‘You’re getting a promotion when I get home.’

Yes, he uses corporate jargon when discussing intimate matters.

He’s a businessman at heart, he can’t help it.

Definitely more playful than most of the others on this list.

The type to take his time with you and make you laugh while he does so.

But when he wants to be rough (and when you want him to be), he can be.

And he gets mean when he’s like that.

I’m talking hair-pulling, name-calling – basically just bullying you, but consensually.

Does his best to take care of you, though.

If he found out that he’d actually upset you, he’d literally jump off a cliff – he wouldn't be able to forgive himself.

Expect many lavish gifts if this happens, though.

But don’t tell him that I told you that 👀.

Gaz

Will nearly drop his phone – it turns to butter in his hands.

He looks over his shoulder at least fifty times before he’ll allow himself to look at the photo again.

Poor boy’s face is turning red, his palms are sweating, he can’t think straight.

Paranoid 24/7 that everyone knows he has that picture of you.

But it doesn’t intimidate him enough for him to even try to keep quiet in the barracks when he has some alone time.

Similar situation to Soap; everyone knows to steer clear of whichever room Gaz was last spotted walking into for a while.

It would take him a few days for him to send a picture back.

More than likely, it’ll be of him in a scarcely lit bathroom in nothing but his boxers with a very prominent outline in them.

Followed by a text with something to the effect of: ‘Been thinking about you all night, Sweets’

And God forbid you send him another image of yourself. And definitely do not send a message saying ‘Aww, has my good boy been behaving himself ?’

Will literally send him over the edge.

The rest of the 141 can’t commandeer the bathroom for the rest of the day after that.

And when Gaz gets home, just know that your phone screen can’t protect you anymore.

Not when you have a man made of pure intellect and solid mass running full-force at you with all the pent-up energy seen only in a nuclear reactor.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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rene-spade · 7 months ago

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miss louisiana i | c. leclerc, a. saint mleux | chase landry

poly! | fem! reader x obsessive! exes! charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux (+chase landry and f1 grid)

synopsis. your obsessive exes refuse to accept your new relationship with a man completely different from them. maybe they should move to louisiana? jk!. . . unless?

note. ok so reader is from louisiana and has cajun roots for context. chase landry is from swamp people 😭✌️ I loved that show when I was younger & I rewatched some recently and it reignited my crush on him sorry

WARNING(s); obsessive/possessive behavior, toxic/creepy exes (I make is as fluffy as I can tho trust), ooc Alex and Charles being a rich and out of touch, a spec of classism, stalking oops, (everyone Loves you)

miss.y/n📍belle river, la

liked by charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, jacoblandry, carlossainz55, and 1,006,349 others

miss.y/n back where I belong ☀️🌷🐊🐝🐍🌿🐠

view comments

mariene.y/l/n be safe in the water my baby 🤗

miss.y/n yes maman 🤞😊 you know I’m protected

user oop who’s protecting you miss ma’am

user omgggg how did Charles n Alex fumble so baddd 😩😩🙏 I’ve needed y/n’s cajun french baddie ass since DAY ONE 🗣️

charles_leclerc so beautiful mon ange 😍 but that water is dark and might be dangerous. ta maman a raison!

see translation | your mom is right

user stopp didn’t y/n break things off with them???

user2 currently losing it my fav throuple might be back 💪🗣️

carlossainz55 hope you’re doing well mi dulce ❤️

alexandrasaintmleux yeah no this isn’t happening

user carlos sweetie delete this comment while you still have hands <3

user SHE’S BACK IN LOUISIANA RAHH

user2 how did I not know she was from the middle of nowhere 😭 what is pierre part??

user3 how didn’t you know!!! her dad literally used to hunt alligator before he died and her mom remarried and moved back to France . Her dad was cajun

user this might be a reach but y’all think she knows anybody from swamp people? Love that show 🤣🤣

liked by miss.y/n

♤ ♤ ♤

Alex’s leg bounced up and down nervously as her call went to voicemail for the 7th time in a row. She’d been calling your phone nonstop since hearing the news, anxious to know if it was true or not. It was always something that ate at her; her and Charles’ inability to relate to your childhood in Louisiana. They’d grown up among a higher class than you and in foreign countries. You would just giggle and wave off her concerns, insisting that even though they couldn’t understand your upbringing, that at least you could understand theirs.

“No answer.” She muttered, teeth gnawing at her bottom lip. It was a habit she’d had as a child, one that you disapproved of and had trained out of her before you left them.

“She left us for a swamp man.” Charles pathetically finished Alex’s thought as they sat in his car, waiting to meet some other drivers and wags at the high-end restaurant Carlos chose.

“Don’t say it like that!” Alexandra turned her body towards the passenger window, “She didn’t leave us— not in that way! I told you she was homesick!”

Your father was a Cajun man who definitely took his culture to heart, doing a lot of hunting and fishing before he passed away suddenly when you were 12. Your mother was from France originally, and she remarried a rich Frenchman who’d ended up funding your modeling career after your success in pageantry. You moved straight to France at age 14 and found yourself in a completely different culture from how you grew up. You’d visited France before during summers with your mother, but it wasn’t home to you like Louisiana. You’d met Alexandra when the two of you were 19, and instantly bonded. Despite only really meeting briefly, it was love at first sight on Alex’s part and she supported you all the way to when you won Miss Universe after starting out Miss Louisiana.

When Charles had come along and had the same feelings that she did for you, it felt perfect, like everything had finally come together.

“With us is her home.” Charles replied, sucking his teeth.

“I can’t even—” Alex didn’t have to finish, the two had the same thought. They can’t even fathom the idea that you were with someone else.

Daniel was practically cackling in joy while Carlos at least tried to hide his amusement by covering his face. It was no secret that most of the f1 grid was praying for you to leave Charles/Alex so they could get a chance— but this wasn’t what they were expecting.

Bickering around the table ensued, only a few seconds before Alex was rolling her eyes with a groan and putting her face in her hands, “He doesn’t have any recent social media so I can’t even stalk him.”

“So we will just go there!”

“And what? Become swamp people?” Daniel was laughing so hard he was tearing up.

“Cha, that’s so ridiculous.” Alex mumbled.

“It is—!” Kika agreed suspiciously fast, “I just mean the split was recent, so maybe me and Pierre should visit her before you guys?” It’d only been a few months, but that had been enough to drive Charles and Alex a bit off the rails.

They’d only ever been apart from you for just over two days in the last year, up until you ghosted them. Well— it wasn’t technically ghosting when you left a note; a very brief letter in your familiar handwriting that told them you needed some space. They didn’t take it as a break up, although they did panic. Their numbers weren’t blocked, so they naturally took that as a good sign. This was probably because you wanted their attention since all their calls and messages were going through. The finality of it didn’t hit until it reached two weeks of no-contact from you and their photos were removed from your Instagram. The public noticed and so did the rest of the grid despite Alex and Charles’ now 3-month-long denial stage.

“le lieu s'appelle Pierre Part, yeah?” Pierre grinned and Charles sneered at him. (the place is called pierre part)

“They might have a point,” Daniel winced with a wide grin, “I think you’ll just look crazy if you show up. At least, one of us would just look like a friend who misses her, ya know?”

“None of you are visiting our girlfriend!” Alex frowned.

“Ex,” Carlos gently corrected into his fist with a cough before straightening up, “She jus’ is homesick maybe so give her some space and she will come back in no time.”

“I knew this would happen.” Alex slumped with her chin in her hand, “cet endroit est sa maison.” (that place is her home)

“You’ve never heard ‘if you love something, let it go’? If it’s meant to be, she’ll come back.” Daniel tried to reassure, but his face was almost a wince.

“We just wanted her close to us is all! We travel so much, we didn’t mean to take her away from her home—”

But Daniel gave them a look, knowing about their behavior with you. As in love with you as they are, Alex and Charles are intense about it. Endearing on one hand for awhile, but then the jealousy got worse and they were pretty delusional about their tendencies. He could understand it honestly— you were lovely. He imagined he’d be in the same state as Alex and Charles if you were his and you left him. Which is why he cut them so much slack, the rest of the table too.

“I don’t understand why she ran away like that!” Charles finished with a huff, running his fingers through his hair. He was starting to sweat. This felt like a cruel joke on your part— a mean way to get their attention.

“His ears are a little big.” Alex whispered, staring into her phone with a pout.

“et cela! regarde nos oreilles!” (and that! look at our ears!)

Pierre lost it at that; Charles pulling at his ears to make a point, “Maybe he’s just a nice guy, man!”

“We are nice!”

“Let me see.” Carlos walked around the table to see Alex’s phone.

She’d googled the name of your alleged new boyfriend— Chase Landry. He had starred on some Southern US reality show ‘Swamp People’; it mainly surrounded cajun alligator hunters in Louisiana. They had known you liked the show, but had never seen it themselves.

“Eh,” Carlos shrugged, “his ears aren’t that big. He is a little old for her though, no? 34?”

“Exactly! He is a pervert! I’m calling her again, actually.”

♤ ♤ ♤

miss.y/n 📍pierre part, la

liked by jacoblandry, carlossainz55, francisca.cgomes, danielricciardo, and 1,014,108 others

miss.y/n me and my dirty swamp man foreva 🤞💛🌷🦆

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user STOPPP SHE SAID THAT’S MY MAN N IMMA STICK BY HIMMMM

user2 stfu 😭✋ the fact that this man most likely has no idea that this is going on

user3 his brother liking her posts and filling him in

miss.y/n jokes on y’all Jacob doesn’t know what’s going on either

bellahadid beautiful lily faery and her dirty swamp bf <3

miss.y/n <3 literally

user BELLA⁉️

arthur_leclerc beautiful view of the water, ma sœur!

see translation | my sister

user THEY SENT Y/NS FAVORITE LECLERC BROTHER IN TO PLAY DAMAGE CONTROL

user2 not “my sister” 😭😭😭 leclercs let her go challenge

user y/n’s harem coming to her defense like the mighty morphin power rangers 😭😂🤣

this is part 1 of perhaps 3. I plan on making part 2 much longer and more writing than social media like this one, just for some balanceee

taglist; @alliwantisadonut @splaterparty0-0 @charizznorizz

Ren

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #dark! f1 #f1 grid x reader #obsessive f1 #charles leclerc x reader #poly f1 #f1 oc #obsessive charles leclerc #ex! charles leclerc #Charles leclerc fic #carlos sainz x reader #alex saint mleux x reader #alexandra saint mleux #f1 reverse harem #swamp people x reader #chase landry x reader

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bbyjackie · 1 year ago

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𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐒 𝐀𝐒 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎'𝐒 𝐆𝐅 — ♡

one piece social media + dating feat: zoro

♡ liked by FRAAANKY, nicorobin and 2.2k others

_ynln: moments before disaster

tagged: theroronoa.zoro

blackleg.sanji: PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE. ILL TREAT YOU BETTER THAN HE COULD EVER YN PLEASE. 🙏🙏😫😫

↳ lovenami: stop praying on their downfall

↳ sogekingg.usopp: ONG, yn is the only one who can keep zoro from getting lost. im not risking their breakup ☝️☝️

↳ theroronoa.zoro: @blackleg.sanji stay mad that u got no bitches

theroronoa.zoro: its not my fault you fell

↳ _ynln: bitch ive seen u deadlift a building 😐

↳ theroronoa.zoro: it is what it is 🥱

blackleg.sanji: scribble out his face my queen, he's ruining your beauty 😙😙

♡ liked by theroronoa.zoro, ilovecottoncandychopper and 3.4k others

_ynln: my boyfriend is the hottest

tagged: theroronoa.zoro

theroronoa.zoro: fan behaviour 🥱

↳ _ynln: nvm my bf sucks

sogekingg.usopp: DAMN BRO EVEN GOT ME FEELING SOME TYPE OF WAY 🥵🥵

↳ FRAAANKY: VALIDDD HES BUILT 🫡

↳ _ynln: agreed 🫣🫣

↳ sogekingg.usopp: keeping the rest of us humble

↳ theroronoa.zoro: i hate you guys

♡ liked by ace, p1rateking_luffy and 1.9k others

_ynln: pizza bites are the loml 💞

tagged: p1rateking_luffy, blackleg.sanji

theroronoa.zoro: wtf when did this happen

↳ _ynln: when u locked me out so u could sleep

↳ theroronoa.zoro: you could've woken me up and we could've made pizza instead of u and that stupid cook

↳ _ynln: last time i woke u up, u almost three sword styled me 😭😭

↳ p1rateking_luffy: I was there too!! Thanks the invite yn 😁😁

↳ theroronoa.zoro: wait luffy was there too? was everyone but me hanging out with MY girlfriend?

↳ FRAAANKY: OMG ARE U GUYS ARGUING RN

↳ ilovecottoncandychopper: guyss please don't fight :((

↳ CAPTAIN.KIIIID: fight

blackleg.sanji: WAKE ME UP ANYTIME TO MAKE MIDNIGHT SNACKS MY GODDESS YN 🧎🏼‍♂️🧎🏼‍♂️

↳ theroronoa.zoro: just so yk i reported this comment for harassment

theroronoa.zoro: how am i not the love of your life 🤨

↳ _ynln: tough, maybe cause u dont post me

↳ FRAAANKY: post her @theroronoazoro

↳ p1rateking_luffy: Post her @theroronoazoro

↳ sogekingg.usopp: post her @theroronoazoro

♡ liked by jinbe, _ynln and 4.5k others

theroronoa.zoro: my gf is the prettiest person in the world i love her. this is a yn dedication post.

slide 1: my gf waking me up after she found me on the streets.❤️‍🔥

slide 2: there's two cute things in this photo. my gf is cuter. ❤️‍🔥

slide 3: teaching my gf how to down booze. she's perfect. ❤️‍🔥

slide 4: my gf having fun at the gym waiting for me to finish my workout. ❤️‍🔥

tagged: _ynln

_ynln: zoro omg i love u sm 🥹💕💕

↳ theroronoa.zoro: ❤️

nicorobin: this is cute

blackleg.sanji: CRYING SCREAMING THROWING UP

ilovecottoncandychopper: i love u two together 🙂

↳ _ynln: AWW CHOPPER <33

jinbe: i support this message

lovenami: first post in 8 months and it's his gf, who wants to jump onto the train tracks w me

p1rateking_luffy: yn's feet

↳ lovenami: do u think we can sell photos of them?

↳ _ynln: guys what the actual fuck

_ynln 17m

[_ynln] theroronoa.zoro replied to your story: love you

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #one piece smau #one piece imagine #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #smau #kid x reader #sanji x reader #usopp x reader #zoro x y/n #zoro headcanons #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #one piece x you #one piece fluff #one piece scenario

6K notes · View notes

theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter · 1 month ago

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Hydration 💧

Alexia x Reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

summary :

You’ve always been a little forgetful when it comes to hydration, and Alexia, being the ever-attentive girlfriend she is, has made it her mission to ensure you drink enough water throughout the day.

It's a warm afternoon, and you’re at work, scrolling through your endless to-do list, completely absorbed in your tasks. Your phone buzzes, pulling you out of your focus for a moment. You smile, already knowing who it is before you even look at the screen.

Hey amor, have you had any water today? ❤️

You roll your eyes playfully but feel a warmth spread through your chest. She always remembers to check up on you, even when she’s in the middle of training.

I’m getting some now, promise. Good luck with training, captain 💪❤️

A few seconds later, another buzz. She’s quick to respond, as always.

Good. And thank you, love ❤️. I’ll check in later.

Later in the day, you’re at the gym, trying to push through the last few minutes on the treadmill. You’re exhausted, sweat dripping down your forehead, and your bottle sits untouched beside you. Almost as if on cue, your phone lights up with another message.

Bebé, don’t forget to drink water during your workout. You need to stay hydrated 🫶

You chuckle to yourself, shaking your head. It’s like she has a sixth sense for this. You pick up the bottle and take a long drink, sending her a quick selfie of you mid-gulp.

Happy now? 😂❤️

A minute later, your phone buzzes again.

Very. Now finish strong 💪, then hydrate some more. Love you ❤️

It’s game night, and you’re at the stadium, surrounded by the loud, energetic crowd. Alexia is on the pitch, focused and intense, but you still get a vibration in your pocket during halftime. You pull out your phone and see her name.

Have you been drinking water, amor ?❤️

You grin, shaking your head in disbelief. Even in the middle of a match, she doesn’t forget.

Yes, yes, I’ve got a bottle right here! Now go focus on winning 🏆❤️

She sends back a quick selfie from the locker room, a playful smirk on her face, hair slightly damp with sweat.

Good. Now scream extra loud when I score❤️

Back home, you’re curled up on the couch, half-asleep when you feel your phone buzz against your leg. It’s late, but you smile when you see it’s from Alexia again.

Made it home, finally. Have you been drinking water before bed?❤️

You roll your eyes fondly and send a voice note this time.

Alexia Putellas, I love you, but if you ask me about water one more time tonight, I’m going to—

Before you can finish, there’s a knock on your door. You scramble to answer, and there she is, standing with a grin, holding a bottle of water.

“I thought I’d make sure in person this time,” she teases, stepping inside and wrapping you in a hug. “Now, drink up.”

You laugh, burying your face in her neck. “I think I’m plenty hydrated now, thank you very much.”

She pulls back to look at you, her eyes twinkling. “Good. Because I plan on keeping you around for a long time, and you’re not allowed to get dehydrated on my watch.”

She presses a quick kiss to your forehead, and you sigh happily, already reaching for the bottle. “Yes, captain.”

#woso x reader #barca x reader #barca femini x reader #barca femeni #fc barcelona #fc barca #alexia x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas x y/n #alexia putellas

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blueberrybeomgyu · 23 days ago

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୨⎯ "attention" ⎯୧ (kdh)

+*:🌟:*﹤descrip. : leehan just wants ur eyes on him!! :(

+*:🩷:*﹤content : sub!leehan, dom!reader, edging, riding (who's surprised), surely this is exhibitionism and voyeurism???

+*:🧃:*﹤warnings : 18+ mdni! :T (i'm watching you 🫵), female anat 4 reader, piv sex, both characters are quite flawed imo but everything is consensual 🫶, leehan confesses to reader like ten times but it's mostly in his head, leehan’s kinda weird in the mall sorry idk how men flirt idk how anyone flirts, leehan has a scent kink in my book idk how that happened but it did

+*:❤️:*﹤word count : 4.7k phew it's a long one buckle up

+*:🍏:*﹤a/n : i tried my best to write the first paragraph as plot but it was so hard so I wrote it in drabble format but the rest is in story format!! sawry bout that </3 selfedging!leehan anon if you read this i hope u like it <33

+*:🌟:*﹤masterlist

✧･ﾟ: *

BF!Leehan who wants your eyes on him, but you've been so focused on work, leaving early and coming home late. He knows it's important, that you have to finish your project by the deadline, but he can't help but feel a little selfish about your time when you've rarely spoken to him in the past two weeks. He's barely even seen you, always falling asleep despite trying to stay up when you come home, and he's getting antsy missing your company.

You're sliding out of bed after only being home for five hours. He’d startled awake when you came in, but you were too tired to talk, too tired to change before collapsing on the bed.

He’d changed you himself, gently wiping your makeup off and massaging lotion into your skin, then held you close to him as you caught up on much-needed rest. He wakes up when he feels your body heat leave his side, and groans as he watches with foggy eyes as you disappear into the bathroom.

“Don’t go to work. Stay here with me,” he begs sweetly when you come back out. You consider it, he can see it on your face, but you ultimately shake your head.

“I can’t, baby. Gotta get this project done, then I’ll be all yours, m’kay?” He pouts, but it doesn’t last long because you kiss it away and ruffle his already messed up hair. Within minutes, you’re out the door.

Leehan sulks in bed for a little longer, wishing he could make you pay attention to him. It feels like the only time you’re actually looking at him, thinking about him, is when the two of you are intimate with each other. It’s hard to find time in two busy schedules, but during those rare moments, it’s just you and him; the world around the two of you doesn’t exist anymore.

He’s so warm and safe in bed and the only thing that would make it better is if you were here with him, tangled up in the sheets and wasting the day away. He thinks about your soft skin and how sweet it smells, how warm your touch is when he’s lucky enough to be blessed with it, blessed by your gentle eyes and kind words when they’re focused only on him and spoken just for him to hear.

His hand is traveling under his waistband without hesitation, and thoughts of you clutter his mind as he wraps his palm around his length. He tries to mimic the way you squeeze his base and flick your thumb over his slit, tries to imagine it’s your pretty hands touching him this way. It's not long before stars are dancing behind his eyelids and he’s grunting out into the silent room.

You never want him to cum the first time around, and almost always pull away when he’s on the edge. He’s so used to the denial, to the feeling of his orgasm slipping out of his grasp that it just feels natural when he pulls his hand away from his cock. He sucks in a breath at the way it twitches and sees you, hears you in his imagination, saying, “Good boy, aren’t you so well-trained?”

He chews on the inside of his cheek to distract himself from the burning hot need coursing through his veins, and an idea forms in his head. He knows he shouldn’t, but it should be fine, right? Just a voice message showing you how much he misses you. You wouldn’t get upset with him for that, surely.

He reaches for his phone on the nightstand and opens you guys’ text messages. He spends another four seconds convincing himself this is a good idea. Then he’s grabbing his cock again, pulling all the tricks to put him on the verge of tipping over. When he feels close, he presses the “Record a Message” button beside the text bar.

At first, it’s just shy little moans as he complains about how much he misses you, how much better it would feel if you were here. Then, they turn into desperate, raspy gasps as he pushes himself over the edge. The audio recording sends the second he releases the button, and he can’t unsend it, so he accepts his choices and waits to hear what you have to say.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

The answer is absolutely nothing. You don’t respond to or address the audio recording at all, aside from a smirk and a “Did you have fun today?” that you throw his way when you walk through the front door.

He continues doing it, messages ranging from more audio recordings to photos of his stomach painted white, and usually you’ll kiss him, ruffle up his hand, call his “little treats” cute, make more promises to help him out when you’ve met your deadline.

He knows your work is important, but although guilt claws at him for it, Leehan still feels a bit hurt that you didn’t take his complaints to heart, just assumed it was another one of his trivial games.

Leehan can play games, and when you hole yourself up in the bedroom to type away at your laptop, he realizes that he will. He’ll do whatever it takes to get your attention.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You finally have a day off, and have decided you’d like to spend part of it at the mall looking through new arrivals. Leehan’s not big on shopping, so he just follows you around and occasionally gets distracted by fish merch.

You’ve stepped away at least four times to take phone calls from your coworkers, and you guys have only been at the mall for an hour and a half. When lunchtime rolls around, you excuse yourself again to answer a call from your boss, leaving Leehan alone to pick at his food in disinterest.

“Um, hi. Are you busy?” A feminine voice says. The girl has to stand directly in Leehan’s line of sight for him to realize she’s talking to him. When he looks up at her, she smiles shyly and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Can I help you?”

“No! Well, yes. I…was just wondering if I could have your phone number. I saw you standing alone earlier…” The girl’s voice fades out as Leehan peeps your approaching figure in the distance, and the gears in his head turn with another (probably bad) idea.

“...alone again here in the food court, so I thought I should take the chance.”

Leehan didn’t hear most of what she said, but he can tell when someone’s interested in him, and he can play along.

He flashes the girl a charming smile, dimples and all, and nods along to whatever she’s rambling about. She’s cute enough, and seems like a nice girl, but Leehan’s real focus is entirely on you as you watch the scene. He watches you as best as he can from his peripheral, but never takes his eyes off the girl in front of him.

“Is that…alright?” She says, looking at Leehan with wide, hopeful eyes. He pretends to consider whatever she asked, and holds a palm out for her to rest her hand in. Her face gets even redder, and he kind of feels bad that he’s using her to get to you.

He’s about to tell her that he’s sorry to disappoint, and that he appreciates it, he really does, but he has a girlfriend. He doesn’t get a chance to say any of that when you come up behind him seemingly out of nowhere and tap him on the shoulder. The girl pulls her hand away from Leehan’s and stands around awkwardly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You ask. Your arms are crossed and your eyes are locked on his, but not with the love and admiration he’s been longing for. His composure falters when he sees your expression, one that says he’s fucked up more than he knows.

“This girl came up to me and…” He trails off and gestures in the girl’s general direction.

“And?” You ask impatiently, but Leehan doesn’t know how he was going to conclude that sentence. This girl came up to me and I pretended to be interested to get a rise out of you? He has a feeling that’s not going to support his case well. You turn away from him and to the girl behind him, causing him to turn around as well.

“You’ll have to excuse my idiot boyfriend. I’m sorry he wasted your time instead of just telling you he was taken.” The girl nods in understanding and tries to hide her disappointed pout. She accepts your handshake when you offer it and hurries off.

You shoot Leehan another pissed glare, then dump your remaining food in the trash and walk out of the mall. He considers apologizing to the girl as well, but she’s already out of sight, so he trashes his own food and trails after you with a ball of shame sitting in his throat.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

To be honest, you scare Leehan just a little, especially when he knows you’re angry with him but you’re not talking about it. He’d rather you just chew his head off and get it over with, just tell him how much of an inconsiderate dumbass he is. You don’t, so the guilt manifests and manifests until he feels like he might puke it up.

You lock the front door and hang up your coat, and the first thing you say to him in the last twenty minutes is “Sit.”

Leehan parks his ass on the couch immediately, and waits to hear whatever other command you might give him. He expects you to sit next to him, or on the armchair by the couch or even on his lap. He doesn’t expect you to sit right across from him on the coffee table. At least a minute passes full of you just staring at him, and the silence is killing him.

“Baby–”

“Shut up,” you say, and his mouth clamps shut. You stare at him for a few more seconds, poking your inner cheek with your tongue in thought. Then, you shake your head and laugh in disbelief. Leehan watches as you cross your arms over your chest, and tries not to flick his eyes down to the way your boobs are being pushed up. He may be sick with horniness and loneliness, but it’s really not the time.

“Why are you acting like this, Leehan?” It takes Leehan a few seconds and a quirk of your eyebrow to realize you’re actually waiting for an answer, that you want him to speak now.

“What do you mean?” That’s his intelligent response. You scoff and roll your eyes.

“Don’t act dense with me. You were flirting with that girl just so I’d see. I know when you’re acting out for attention, and that’s exactly what you’ve been doing this entire week.” Leehan’s embarrassed at being caught so he shakes his head in denial, but it’s nowhere near convincing even to himself.

“No? You didn’t touch yourself and record it for me? Didn’t send me photos of you covered in your own cum? Didn’t flirt with a girl right in my face in a desperate attempt to get my attention?” Leehan’s cheeks burn at the direct confrontation. Hearing his actions out loud brings a fresh wave of shame over him, and he’s so ready to get down on his knees and beg for forgiveness.

“Show me.”

Leehan’s eyes fly wide open and he lets out a nervous chuckle. “W-what?”

“You wanted my attention so bad. Now you have it,” you say with a bored expression. Your eyes leave a trail of fire wherever they land on his skin. He has your attention, and has to think of a way to keep it.

“Go ahead,” you command with a jerk of your head. Your lips are turned down into a frown, and it’s so condescending, like you don’t even want to be here. Leehan needs you to want to be here, and he’s nothing if not a performer. He lifts his hips and tugs his pants down to his thighs.

You make a noise, something between a hum and a coo, when he pulls his boxers down and his dick springs against his stomach.

“Your little cock is hard, Hannie.” He knows he’s not small, but your words are still humiliating, and still burn the need to impress you across his skin. “Gonna show me how you fucked yourself when you were moaning into your phone?”

Leehan’s hips buck against nothing, causing his member to slap against his stomach again, and his mouth falls open with a groan.

He does as you tell him, wrapping his hand around his cock like he’s been doing every morning for the past week, squeezing his base, flicking his tip, imagining it’s you, wishing it was you, but he doesn’t dare ask. Instead he watches your facial expressions, how your lips curl up into a smirk when he’s close.

“Stop,” you tell him, and he pulls his hand away without question. He would’ve been foolish to not expect the sensation of his orgasm floating farther and farther away from him. He tries to slow his breathing, tries not to lose his mind so early into this session.

“Keep going.”

He continues his previous pace immediately, and his hips tremble when he tries to stop them from bucking up. His tip is a bit more sensitive when he brushes his thumb across it, and it takes less time for him to get close.

He strokes a bit faster, moans a bit louder. He has no idea how long you plan to keep him here, but he still anticipates the relief of falling off the edge.

“Let go.”

Leehan pulls his hand away from his cock and clutches the couch instead while willing his legs to stop shaking. He’s helpless to disobey you, but he groans as his orgasm escapes him a second time.

“Hm…I dunno. Something’s not right.” You tap a manicured nail against your chin in thought. He can never understand how you’re so composed in moments like this, like it’s a normal evening. If you’re turned on, you don’t show it, and it makes Leehan flush with shame. “What do you think, baby boy?”

He huffs out a laugh at the question. How is he supposed to know? But you’re looking at him expectantly, so he scrambles to come up with something. “I mean– Usually I’m, like, in bed, I guess. Thinking about you, imagining you, smelling you…” God, don’t get him started on smelling you.

You hum thoughtfully and lift off of the table. In seconds, you’re hovering over him, flashing him a devious grin. Your hips are so close to straddling his, and you slap his hand away when it reaches up to touch your waist. You hold yourself up by the back cushions with your arms on either side of his head. He’s trapped, and suddenly, everything else in the room is overshadowed by you.

“Is that right? You think about all the dirty things you wanna do to me while getting off to the smell of my perfume?”

Of course you’d know his weak spot. You’re so close to him and he thinks he’s going to lose his mind if he doesn’t get to touch you. Your perfume is invading his senses, and flaming hot desire coils in his abdomen. He squeezes his eyes shut to prevent them from rolling into his skull as his hips twitch into the air.

“Touch yourself, Hannie,” you say sweetly.

He takes a deep breath and grabs his cock again. He’s known to leak like a faucet, especially after meeting you, and his hand is covered in sticky white within the first few seconds of stroking himself.

He knows there’s raspy noises falling from his open mouth, but he can barely hear them over his heart pounding. The way you take over his brain is overwhelming and he can hardly think. Your lips graze his neck, and the skin litters with goosebumps despite the hot air between the two of you.

If he opens his eyes, he’s got a face full of titties, and he doesn’t know if he can handle that despite every cell in his body telling him to look. He wants to be good for you and hold out until you give him permission to stop, but it feels so good that he’s speeding his hand up.

“Ha– Ah, fuck–” Slick, sloppy sounds fill the room as he works himself to the edge for you.

“Let go,” you whisper in his ear. His hand rips away from his cock and grips onto his thigh instead, getting it wet and gross with precum. It takes what feels like an eternity for him to back away from the precipice this time. Fear runs his blood cold when he realizes he almost didn’t last.

He’s always good for you, can edge himself for as long as you'd like. He doesn’t know why he’s sensitive today, especially after spending a week beating it.

You pull your face out of his neck, and he slumps against the couch. You smile at the sight and caress his cheek. He melts into the touch, but you pull away to card through his tangled hair instead. You used the grip on his strands to tilt his head back so that he’s looking up at you.

“I do think you were louder that time. Moaned just like you did in those recordings.” He opens his mouth to say something, but loses his train of thought when you plop down on his lap.

“Fffuck–” he moans, voice all pathetic and high-pitched.

“Stay still,” you warn when his hips buck into yours, and he tries so hard, but even the soft fabric of your skirt is too rough on his sensitive dick. He struggles to keep his eyes open, but he’d rather die than take them off of you, so he blinks through the tears pooling in his waterline. The action causes the tears to trickle down, and the air is cold against his wet cheeks.

You stay like that until his breaths are more even and he’s somewhat calmed down. He lets out a displeased noise when you lift off of him and sit back on the coffee table.

“C’mon, Hannie. I’m not done with you yet. Let me see.” You push his legs apart with your knee. He looks down with you, and the sight makes him burn with embarrassment. He’s leaking so much it’s soaking into the couch, and it’s another sight he has to squeeze his eyes shut to get away from.

“W-what, are you j-just gonna–” he swallows thickly, clears his throat, and tries again. “How long are you gonna make me do this?”

You tilt your head and smile at him like you aren’t melting his brain into goo. “However long it takes for you to learn your lesson.” Leehan whines a little in protest.

“Just wanted you to look at me, missed you so much.”

The look in your eyes softens and you lean forward to place a heartfelt kiss on his lips. “I missed you too, Hannie. So. Much,” you say, cupping his cheeks and pressing more gentle kissing around his face. “It was so hard to focus at work when you kept sending me those treats. But bad boys still have to take their punishments, yeah?” Leehan sighs longingly and nods, resting his head against the back cushions, and reaching for his cock when you instruct him to start over.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

By the fifth denial, he’s a shaking mess, falling apart at the seams and only holding himself together by your command. He’s done for the second you flip your skirt up, slide your panties off, circle your clit right in front of him. You’re so close but so far, and he’s definitely losing his mind.

“Please– N/N, let me…could fuck you so good,” he begs helplessly, deep voice strained and words stringing together. It’s the first time tonight you actually look interested in what’s happening, and he can’t figure out where to look–at your pretty face as you make yourself feel good, at the wetness leaking out of your pulsing heat, at the way your tits shake when you tug at your nipples. You’re biting your lip to keep quiet, keeping your pretty noises to yourself. Leehan thinks that’s the cruelest part of this punishment.

His hips are fucking up into his hand in a sloppily, a stark contrast to his usually controlled thrusts. He’s not easy to turn into a mess, but you know him better than he knows himself. You know his limits, know that he won’t cum unless you tell him to, know how badly he needs your forgiveness.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just fuck me, please?” But you’re not looking at him. Your eyes are focused on his cock drooling all over his legs, at the way it twitches when he’s close. Your hips twitch, and your cunt drools on the table, and his mouth runs dry. He’s too delirious to figure out if your reactions are because of him, if he’s doing good for you.

“Stop, pretty boy.”

His hand trembles as he pulls it away from his dick and flops it against the couch. He gasps harshly, heaves loudly, and more tears stream down his face as his hips chase friction that’s already gone.

His head is leaning against the back cushions and lolled to the side, but he’s still watching you touch yourself. His mouth hangs open from all of his pathetic begging, and there’s a thin trail of saliva pooling in his mouth and dribbling onto his t-shirt.

His eyelids are so heavy, but he watches brainlessly as you tease your opening, dip a finger into the heat. It comes back out drenched in creamy white, and he has to dig his nails into the cushion to stop himself from grabbing his dick without permission.

You pull your hands away from your body and straddle him again. He nearly goes cross-eyed when your bare cores touch. It’s so wet, and his entire body shivers with need.

“Aw, Hannie. Look at me. Tell me what you want.”

“Mm, want– wanna taste you, wanna fuck you so bad.” You giggle, and he loses himself somewhere between your sparkly eyes and shiny lips.

“Wanna taste me?” You reaffirm, and he nods dumbly. You straighten his head up and cup his cheeks between your fingers and thumb. You make him watch as you use your free hand to repeat the motions, gathering your wetness on your finger, pushing it through your opening and pulling it out.

You whimper out freely this time, and the sound is so pretty and sinful Leehan wishes he could tattoo it on his brain, wishes he had recorded it so he can hear it again later. Your hand forces his lips to pucker and his mouth to open, and you press your wet fingers onto his tongue.

Leehan’s eyes roll again, and his eyebrows crease as the taste of you, the smell of you invades his senses. You always taste so good, so sweet to him.

His eyes focus on you again, but his vision clouds and his hips buck up against you. You slide against him so deliciously, but it’s over too soon when you slide your fingers out of his mouth and pry your hips away from his.

You wipe your wet fingers on his shirt and remind him to look at you, but he is already looking at you, has barely torn his eyes away from you in the last thirty minutes.

He’s completely awestruck, and maybe a little delirious when he swears he can see the faint halo hovering above your head. He tries to tell you how perfect, how much of an angel you are, but his words come out jumbled and unintelligible.

“Do you have a color for me, baby?”

“Mhm, fuck– green, n-need you so bad. ’m so sorry, p-please, you look so beautiful, t–”

You interrupt him by pressing your lips against his, and Leehan’s convinced he would’ve been talking for the rest of his life if you hadn’t. He’s pretty sure he melts into a puddle of goo when your lips collide, yours so perfect and plush against his. Any function his brain is still performing shuts down immediately, and you have to handle the kiss by yourself, because his lips are slack and useless against yours. There’s a string of saliva connecting the two of you when you pull away from him.

“I think my pretty boy’s at his limit, hm?” You ask, and he doesn’t really know what you’re saying, but anything sounds good coming from you, so he nods and watches with his jaw on the floor as you stand up and pull your skirt off. You pull his shirt off as well, and you’re both bare and vulnerable but safe in your own world, just as Leehan longed for.

You cup his cheeks again and hold his face so he can look up at you as you sink down on his cock, and the noise he makes when you bottom out is broken and pitiful even to his own ears. He knows he must look so fucked out and stupid, but you’re looking at him with so much love in your eyes that he’s sure he looks beautiful anyway.

You wrap around him so well, your cunt is so tight. It feels like he’d forgotten how it feels to be buried inside you, and to be experiencing it for the first time again has to be parallel to some sort of spiritual ascension. Leehan doesn’t know what he did to deserve it, but he does know he’d spend an eternity here if you allowed it.

Your hands move to grip his shoulders, and you make the most heavenly face of ecstasy Leehan has ever seen. You lift your hips to slide him out, and bottom out again. Your cunt’s sucking him in so greedily, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep this up.

“I’ll let you cum if you fuck me, pretty boy,” you say like you read his mind. You grab his lifeless hands and place them on your waist, then grip the back of the couch again. He gets the message clearly, holding you in place as he jerks into you. His thrusts aren’t coordinated at all, and it’s out of pure habit when he angles his hips to fuck right into your sweet spot.

“Fuck yeah, Hannie. That’s so good, you’re so good,” you moan out, and he uses strength he barely has to aim for that spot, to hear those words from you again. On a particularly hard thrust, your eyes flutter closed.

“Look at me, N/N. Please– look at me,” he begs, voice cracking, and when you do, your eyes are glossy, tears pulling in your waterline. It’s so hot, and finally, your attention is his, and he’s making you feel good, but he’s not gonna last like this.

“You fill me up so good, Hannie. Make me feel so good,” you say breathlessly, eyes locked on his. “Gonna cum for me? Gonna fill me up nicely?” And he’s nodding, pitiful whimpers falling from his lips, whatever you say.

You trail a hand up his abdomen, to his chest, and tug at his nipple. The rush of pleasure he feels is so intense that the knot in his stomach is fraying and snapping so quickly he can’t even warn you, but he tries through strangled gasps: “Cumming, ‘m, fu–”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

It takes Leehan a while to come back to Earth. He’s so tired he can barely move, but you kiss him until his mind returns home. After asking if he’s okay five times and getting five verbal “yes’s,” you clean the two of you up and lead him to bed.

It’s still when he speaks again, eyes searching for yours in the dark room, “I really am sorry, Y/N. I should’ve been more considerate. I respect your work so much, I just got so lonely…” You smile at him softly and reach a hand up to rub circles into his back.

“I’m sorry you were so lonely, Hannie. I should’ve managed my time better, should’ve taken your feelings more seriously. From now on, I’ll keep work at work, and after my project, we can both take time off and go on a vacation. How’s that?”

“That’s perfect,” he says, and means it wholeheartedly, falling asleep with a smile of his own.

✧･ﾟ: *

a/n : FUCK THIS TOOK FOREVER TO WRITE LOL i reread it three times pls lmk if there r still typos <3

#i played no part in editing that leehan photo props to whoever made it #my warnings are literally never consistent it is not my fault i have adhd #i stayed up until 4 am writing this but it was worth every second #do u guys see the way im cranking out ffs like #i have many ideas and probably an overactive imagination #but hopefully i dont burn out i love writing ff </3 #i poured so many of my leehan hcs into this it was very fun #boynextdoor hard thoughts #boynextdoor hard hours #leehan hard thoughts #leehan hard hours #boynextdoor imagines #leehan imagines #boynextdoor smut #leehan smut #boynextdoor x reader #leehan x reader

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sinofwriting · 1 month ago

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Protective - Max Verstappen ( I ❤️ MILFS verse)

Words: 910 Word Prompt: Protective (Part of the I ❤️ MILFS verse) Note(s): Takes place during the Baku 2024 race weekend. Also I hate James Vowles

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse | Sin’s Sept. Blurbs

Logan is a momma’s boy. It’s something he’s known for as long as he can remember. It’s something that has been thrown in his face, a taunt, a tease, as if he’s supposed to be ashamed that he loves his mom. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his mom and that includes ending what was supposed to be a good month of silence from him other than a short interview he did just after the news broke and the quickly deleted statement he put out.

He’s no longer an F1 driver for the 2024 season, but he still is traveling with the calendar. He hadn’t used the hotel room Williams booked for him since Australia, not when Red Bull always gives Max a suite and there’s always a little envelope with Logan’s name on it that holds a key.

He had stayed completely in the hotel during Monza. He loves the amount of support Charles gets, loves how passionate they are, but it’s a lot to be around, to walk around. He also doesn’t need to hear another drunk Italian man shout about wanting desperately to have Charles’ babies.

He had planned to do the same in Baku just because he didn’t feel like exploring Baku. But then a video gets leaked.

And that’s the end of Logan’s silence.

He shows up on Friday by himself. His parents are already in the Red Bull garage, waiting for him, but they know that he’ll be awhile.

He smiles at fans when they cheer and greet him, taking his time to sign stuff and take pictures, ignoring the hungry photographers and reporters that are watching. He squeezes the hands of fans who despite what happened are wearing his number and telling them how much they love him.

He takes a few more photos before finally pulling away from the fans and beginning to walk. It doesn’t take long before someone finally pounces. A microphone being handed to him, that he easily takes and a camera trained on him and oh great, he wants to roll his eyes a bit, Will Buxton.

“Logan, how are you doing?” Logan smiles, nodding at some of the people he recognizes from other teams as they pass by. “I’m good. Enjoying the weather.” Will laughs and it’s so fake it grates on Logan’s ears. “And are you here for duties with Williams?”

His eyes are hungry, his whole expression is. He clearly wants to press and dig deep but is trying to be patient.

He shakes his head, “Here to support my dad. I no longer am associated with Williams.” He knows fans had speculated after seeing his name cleared from their website, but the dissociation had only become official just three hours ago. “Really? Not even development.” He shakes his head, smiling. “Ties have been cut, man.” He laughs. “And Logan, the video that has been circulating these past twelve hours, have you seen it? What are your thoughts?” “I have seen it. And it’s disgusting really. James has never been shy about sharing his feelings about me and that’s fine, I was a driver on his team, I was a driver. But there’s no reason to bring up and say things about someone who isn’t a part of the team or any of the teams, but is just part of the driver’s staff and a parent. I could see why if they were disruptive or causing a mess, making a scene, but that isn’t the case.” Will nods, “I couldn’t agree more, Logan.” “I also want to say thank you to all the people who have been talking about this and talking about the words he said about my mom. I haven’t yet seen a statement put out, but I hope that what he said isn’t brushed aside.” “I hope so as well.”

“I still say I should get to punch him.” Max comments after they finish watching Logan’s interviews and Logan can’t help but hum in agreement. “Max.” Christian sighs, though he looks more amused than anything. “If he wants to call someone a whore, he should call himself that. He has a wife and baby at home and yet is talking about meeting with Carlos in hotel rooms. And calling Pan a bitch just because she supported Logan? Fuck him.” “We know, Max.” GP nearly looks bored, but there’s a glint in his eyes that Logan just knows means trouble for the Williams team principal.

A throat clears and everyone looks at his mom. “I think we all need to calm down. Especially you,” she gently pokes Logan’s forehead, before running her fingers through his hair. “The protective thing is nice, but it’s not the first time I’ve been called those things and it won’t be the last. We need to be adults about it.” Logan frowns at her words. “You’ve been called a whore before?”

Max is frowning as well and something churns in Logan’s gut.

“Yes.” She says simply. “Momma.” She shakes her head, “No more interviews, Logan. Not about this at least. You didn’t say anything wrong, but I don’t want people thinking that it’s okay for them to just ask and talk about.”

She then turns to Max and Logan watches as she stares at him. “Do I even bother asking you to not say anything?” Max shrugs. “You could.” She sighs. “Just don’t threaten him. The FIA is already looking closely at you.” “No threats.” He agrees.

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #logan sargeant imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #I ❤️ MILFS verse #Sin's Sept. Blurbs #sins fics

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bokunoheros · 1 month ago

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TAGS/WARNINGS: reader is gender neutral but afab, inappropriate quirk usage (temperature play), pro hero!shouto, shouto and the reader are married, cumming inside, kinda lazy ending bc i wanted to work on day 8 (threesome ft. todobaku) and didn’t know how to finish it lol GENRE: SMUT SUMMARY: shouto can’t help but tease you despite the way you’re always so good for him. WORD COUNT: 2K 🦊’s A/N: god not my ass opening the first two days, anyway here’s my husband ❤️// also, this fic would have been significantly longer had i not previously exhausted myself on this one (pleasepleaseplease read it i put in sm work)

if shouto todoroki was anything, it was resilient and persistent; throughout his childhood, all throughout the course of his hero training, even with all the setbacks and massive traumas he faced, and now: where you lay squirming and crying beneath him, begging for him to just fuck you despite your cunt already being stuffed by three of his thick, ice cold fingers with your legs tossed over his broad shoulders with his mouth dangerously close to your clit, breath disgustingly hot, making for a sensation that had your overstimulated, puffy pussy drooling as goosebumps rose over your flushed, sweaty skin.

even with the way his cock twitches in his too-tight briefs, shouto simply shakes his head with a soft, patient smile and hushes you gently.

“shh, just one more; cum for me one more time, and i promise i’ll give you what you need,” he coos, gazing up at you from between your legs, his striking, heterochromatic gaze ensnaring your own watery one as you bite your lower lip and nod, eyebrows scrunched up as you wiggle your hips, trying to get away from his frosty fingers despite your agreeance to one more orgasm mere seconds ago. but you knew better—”one more” was never just one more, because there was always another one after that. and another. and probably another after that, because shouto was just that addicted to you: your body, the noises you made, the way your eyes rolled back when he made you cum, or the way your back arched so deeply off the bed as your oversensitive, fucked-out body tried to cope with the feeling of another orgasm.

jesus, you swore this man would be the death of you.

“sh–shouto–!” you sniffle, thighs trembling as you prop yourself up on your forearms and look down at him.

“what is it, love?” his voice is soft and soothing, steady, if not a little breathy, as if he wasn't insanely hard right now—beyond desperate to get his dick wet; while instead, he was knuckle deep in your drenched cunt, playing with you like you were some toy (his favorite toy, really <3) while you whine about how you can't take it anymore.

“if you want, we can stop all together right now,” shouto suggests in a teasing voice, crooking his fingers upwards inside you as he does so, and he can't help but chuckle at the way your voice cracks slightly when you let out a pitchy no and shake your head; you knew when he said stop entirely, he truly meant entirely—meaning you wouldn't get any of the dick you had waited so, so, soooo patiently for!

“y–you're so unfa–fair!” you protest, back arching upwards as he brings his hot mouth closer to your disgustingly wet cunt before wrapping his plump lips around your swollen clit, suckling on it gently as his skilled fingers work against your gummy inner walls and you can't help but shudder at the feeling of the frosty digits in contrast to his almost burning mouth, and it's all you can do to whimper and try not to cry as he works you up to another orgasm. you don't even know what number it was anymore. four? five? fuck, your brain was so fuzzy—and you had not only shouto's skilled tongue and fingers playing with your pussy, but the active use of his quirk as well.

“and?” is all he says as he pulls his thick fingers from your aching cunt with a disgusting schliiick sound so he can make out with your drooling pussy — taking your whole mound into his mouth as he pressed his suddenly ice cold tongue against your slick entrance and engorged clit before the tip of it slowly traces over your inner folds.

“nnngh, fuck,” you moan softly when he suddenly dips the freezing muscle into your welcoming heat, making a mental note of the way you tasted, a grin spreading over his glossy lips as he eats you out with nothing but love in heart.

shouto was always such a giver in bed — don't get me wrong, he certainly loved being on the receiving end of many things, but he loved being the one to give you (often overwhelming) pleasure the most. he thinks he could get off on your satisfaction alone (and he has before), and he can’t help but let out a low, drawn-out whine as he humps the mattress beneath him, dick straining against his sickeningly restrictive underwear, drooling enough to create a wet patch on the bed where he'd been rutting his hips against the comforter (as long as it can be cleaned later, the youngest of the todoroki family never minds making a mess).

“soon, honey, soon,” shouto murmurs against your cunt in response to your pitiful swear. “you've earned it,” he praises you, voice a mere whisper, laced with nothing but adoration for you. he was always so proud of you when you managed to withstand his teasing — the way his calloused hands would trail over your body, both extreme temperatures as he toyed with your already stiff nipples thanks to his near feather light touch having trailed already before touching your properly. god, you hated how patient this man could be sometimes, it was truly sickening. because one thing about shouto was that he always took he sweet fuckin’ time with you in the bedroom (and as a result, he hates quickies—he doesn't believe in rushed sex where neither partner can enjoy themselves in full).

the saccharine tone of his voice had you clenching around nothing as he presses his tongue flat against your clit before circling the freezing muscle around the throbbing bundle of nerves, rapidly cooling it down to an almost unbearable degree.

one of your hand comes down to thread itself into his hair, pulling his face closer to your cunt, to which he had no objections, and it isn’t long at all before the familiar knot in your stomach is snapping for the nth time tonight and you’re shamelessly crying out shouto’s name while your back arches deeply off the bed as your husband continues to eat you out throughout the duration of your orgasm.

“sho—shouto!” you squeal, legs squeezing shut around his head and he lets out a content sigh as he looks up at you with a half-lidded heterochromatic gaze.

“i know, baby, i know, you’ve done so well f’me,” he coos gently, pulling away from your cunt and sitting up on his knees in order to tug his boxers down, groaning loudly when his cock finally sprung free and hit against his lower stomach. “fuck,” he hisses, flushed, mushroom headed tip swollen and leaky.

“wan’ you s’bad, sho,” you whine, impatiently rolling your hips upwards.

“yeah? ‘m all yours, sweetheart,” he says while moving to position himself over you, one hand wrapped around his pretty dick in order to align it with your dripping slit before slowly pushing in, biting his lower lip and letting his head hang down in the crook of your neck to hide his flushed face.

it takes a moment for him to bottom out, and when he does, you both let out a drawn moan, staying like that for a minute before shouto slowly starts to fuck you, hips moving languidly against yours. his dick throbs deep inside you while the flushed head presses against your g-spot and your hands quickly find purchase on his broad and scarred back, nails digging into the skin there as you cry softly beneath him, mindlessly babbling about how big he was and how good he felt, all of which only fueled shouto’s desire to fuck you stupid (as if he hadn’t already).

“mmmnnfgh,” you whimper, raking your nails down his scarred back as you wrap your legs around his waist and cross them at the ankle, pulling his hips flush against yours, his usually neatly trimmed peppermint colored pubes tickling your skin. “oh, baby—you’re fillin’ me up s’good—s–so good,” you coo breathily into his ear, fanning the flames of his ego. “you’re s’fuckin’ big, sho—” so big you feel almost nauseated by the way he thrusts slowly but deeply into you. “nngh–fuck!”

shouto feels his cock twitch and drool inside you at your praise, and his face only gets hotter as he attaches his cool, slightly chapped lips attach themselves to the junction of your neck and shoulder, biting down gently before sucking on the skin. todoroki usually wasn’t one for marking you up in places visible to others, as littering your body with little hickies and bruises where only he could see was typically more than enough for him, but right now…. he couldn’t stop himself from sucking and nibbling on your neck, relishing in the sweet little noises you couldn’t seem to stop making.

shouto feels like he’s drowning in you; your scent, the pathetic little mewls you couldn’t stop from slipping past your mouth, the feel of your body against his, the way your pussy flutters around his dick, squeezing him so tightly he swears as his breath hitches in his throat and his hips stutter against yours as he tries not to immediately cum from the feeling.

“jesus, honey—keep squeezin’ me like that n’ i don’t think i can last much longer,” he groans, trying to maintain an even pace despite the way he falters ever so slightly in his rhythm as he brings his face up from your neck to rest his forehead against yours—always one for obscene intimacy—and breathes heavily through his nose in attempt to catch his breath as his heart hammers away in his chest.

“‘m s–sorry,” you stutter, lightly raking your nails up and down his back before they clasp together behind his neck, glossy lips parted and needy for his own. leaning up slightly, you’re able to steal a kiss from him, hands moving to cup his cheeks tenderly as you tilt your head for a better angle.

“nngh—” he moans softly against your lips, his left hand trailing down your side in a teasing manner as it snakes its way between your legs to rub softly at your oversensitive clit.

“cum in me, shouto—please,” you mumble against his plump lips and you can physically feel the way his dick twitches inside you at your words, and it's all you can do to whine at the combined feeling of his cock buried so deep within you and the near scorching heat of his calloused fingers against your throbbing bundle of nerves.

his eyes fly open in shock at your words and he has to pull away from the kiss to ask if you’re sure and you nod pathetically, rolling your hips upwards and moaning softly to confirm his ask. after that, it’s only a few more thrusts before both you and your husband are cumming with a loud cry as he stills his hips flush against yours, as he finishes deep, so deep, inside you.

“god,” you whimper as he slowly pulls out and moves to lay next to you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling you so that you were lying chest to chest, catching your breaths together as you bathed in the quiet afterglow of sex. cleaning up could wait for another five minutes, right? you both deserved a moment of rest after all that.

as you lay next to your doting husband, icy fingers ghosting over your ribcage down to your hip bone, following the dips and curves of your supple figure, chilling the heated skin along the way. closing your eyes, you take a deep breath, focusing on inhaling your husband’s somewhat musky scent as compared to the sticky feeling of your sweaty bodies pressed together.

“let’s get you cleaned up, okay?” he suggests softly, to which a warm smile spreads across your face and you nod mindlessly. “‘ll draw you water for a bath,” he offers, starting to get up until you throw a leg over his hip and pull him closer.

“five more minutes…. please? ‘m so comfy,” you mumble, and shouto’s barely able to catch it, but he does, and a gentle smile stretches over his lips as he agrees to your terms.

return to KINKTOBER | S. TODOROKI M.LIST

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cosmoshard · 7 months ago

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Behold my Masterpiece✨

Shreddy or Not redraw for Sunset Duo zine🧡❤️

click for quality or read more for close ups✨

No timelapse this time cuz it would be almost three minutes long T-T this whole piece total took 23+hrs from start to finish, split across 4-5 canvases cuz its so big my ipad couldnt export (i cant even load it up here cuz its 27MB!!💀 this is jpeg)

This episode is one of my all time favorites because we get to see them work together, be awesome, and fail hilariously xD. Donnie wasnt included this time because the focus of the zine, but he's hanging out :p maybe next time i'll do a redraw of his ✨moment✨

DO NOT STEAL, COPY, TRAIN AI, OR REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.❌🙅‍♀️

*reblogs are not the same as reposts and are much appreciated🧡✨*

#Rottmnt #rottmnt redraw #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt raph #rottmnt mikey #sunset duo #rottmnt shredder #tmnt shredder #Can you believe the middle/background took 12hours alone cuz i cant #Anyways im super proud of it and will possibly put it on a kofi shop to sell as prints or digitally #maybe a redbubble #ALSO WORKING ON OPENING COMMISSIONS YEAHHHH

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traumatrios · 6 months ago

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the name of the game

pairing… dodge mason x fem!reader

wc… 2.3k

summary… you don’t talk to strangers— but there’s something different about dodge. was it his charm? his looks? or the way you couldn’t get him off of your mind?

warnings… ends in smut, face riding, drinking (not drunk sex), iconic red cowboy boots, brief pain pleasure, dodge is soooo delusional

josie’s notes! um i kinda don’t remember how panic ended for dodge (i finished it a week ago) so take the beginning plot with a grain of salt

otherwise enjoy my lovelies ❤️

Dodge didn’t have many friends to begin with, but with most of the kids his age out of Cape and attending college, he did feel quite lonely.

He’s not a stranger to the fact that college wasn’t in the cards for him– he had too many responsibilities. He knew his sister could very much take care of herself, but lazy Sunday’s on the couch next to her was where his heart truly belonged.

His mother needed help managing the restaurant, because as much as she prided herself for her hardworking motherhood and independence, he saw the breath of relief she had whenever he was there.

He was perfectly fine as a blue collar working adult. What did he need college for anyway? It was too expensive, especially after the necessary but monetarily disappointing ending to Panic. He was too old to apply now.

Dodge took his time off of working at his bar to nurse the foam of a beer from another in a neighboring town.

Was this really what his future was? He was dangerously nearing a seat in the same boat as the men surrounding him in the ambience of the dive bar: old (21) with a family at home (he was unattached with a sister and a single mother 5 minutes away from his apartment).

Dodge might as well accept it; this was his destiny.

But the glimmer of fate came to him through a vision he wasn’t sure whether he was imagining from the wild dreams in his head or the material of a Playboy magazine.

The mechanical bull sitting in the middle of the recreational space of the bar with a pretty girl attached to its saddle.

Dodge couldn’t tell if you were a saddle bronc rider (like himself) or just intensely familiar with your hips. You rode the mechanical bull like it was a kids bicycle with training wheels.

But with how you grinded against the fur of the mechanical bull with the rhythm it was bucking, he landed on the latter.

It was entrancing to look at, he admitted. The winks you sent into the collecting audience only strengthened his hopes of getting one shot at him.

The mechanics continued to whir and spin you around, pathetic attempts to throw you off of the attraction you were obviously very skilled at riding. Have you been here before? Has he just never noticed you?

How could he never notice you.

Before he knew it, Dodge was leaning against the inflatable rim of the attraction, eyes wide in awe of your performance. One hand gripped the braided rope attached to the nape of the bull’s neck whilst the other waved in the air freely to your girlfriends, who had been screaming your name in the same way Dodge heard it yelled by paparazzi during award shows his sister watched on the weekends through the television.

The moderator of the attraction seemed just as impressed as anyone else watching you, even holding the twinge of suspicion some kept in the quirk of their brow. A crowd eventually formed around your performance, whistling and cheering you on as the meat of your calves squeezed the sides of the bull’s stomach.

Dodge thinks he heard a “yee haw!” come from the intoxicated group of guys (no younger than 30) stuffed in a booth attached to the wall facing your ass.

Bright digits flashed on the screen beside the control booth, announcing the new high score of Big Star Bar. 2 minutes and 36 seconds.

As you unmounted the artificial bull, Dodge didn’t pull his eyes away from you like the rest of the crowd did. You weren’t a one hit wonder, he had to know your secrets. What was a girl with hips like yours doing in a random dive bar in Texas?

Dodge wasn’t sure how to approach you, especially after losing you in the crowd of girls in identical cowboy hats and guys in flannel. He was lucky enough to skin his eyes over the bar and spot your sparkling red boots tapping and gliding against the dingy dance floor.

The boy filed through the crowd until the heat in the air turned from heavy to sweaty dance floor heavy.

Dodge scanned the horseshoe— painted? —on the back of your jean jacket and how it paired with your cowboy boots. It felt like something out of a movie, seeing your outfit.

“This your first rodeo?” he greeted, though from his stance behind your back, he wasn’t surprised by the small jump in your shoulders. But when you turned around, you were just as beautiful up close than you were on that damn bull. Dodge noticed the thick pieces of glitter scattered across your collarbone and how it seemed to match with the other girls in your party.

“Sorry. I don’t talk to strangers,” you shrugged, offering Dodge a friendly smile in apology.

Your gaze didn’t even falter or scan him, just unwaveringly looking him in the eye before you turned around again to chat with your friends.

“Aren’t those the most fun to talk to though?” Dodge tried, and god did it form a pit in his stomach to feel like one of those guys that pushed for a girl's attention— a bad guy.

This got you to turn back around again.

Truthfully, his looks were hard to deny; especially with that ivory colored cowboy hat on his head. Otherwise, he wore a navy tee with a pair of dark jeans and black boots; the simplest thing ever.

One hand was stuffed in the pocket of his jeans, the other tapping its digits against the sweaty glass of a bottle of beer.

“Do you really wanna talk? Grandma taught me that boys like you never want to just talk.”

Dodge couldn’t fight against that, not confidently at least. He knew he didn’t want to just talk, but he also didn’t know what else he’d want to do. Is this what being in limbo felt like?

You gave Dodge the grace of a second before pointing an eyebrow at him and turning again, only this time walking off with your friends to a different corner of the bar.

Dodge was too stubborn to talk growing up, and in this moment— and only this moment —did he curse himself for doing so.

In Cape, everyone was a regular.

It didn’t matter where you went or with whom, you were known better than the alphabet.

When Dodge came into town, he became a regular. In most places, at least.

He knew you weren’t from Cape because you weren’t a regular here. Which is why he was surprised to see the same red heels he’s been dreaming about since the weekend stroll into the establishment he worked in.

You knew what you were doing, of course. You knew about Dodge Mason because Gina knew about Dodge Mason, and she knew about Dodge Mason from her boyfriend Daniel.

That’s how you got here, wasn’t it? But, Dodge didn’t need to know that.

He didn't need to know how your girlfriends teased you for playing hard to get or how you began sweating just from looking into his piercing eyes.

And when those piercing eyes caught the sight of the painted horseshoe on your back, he thought it must be my lucky day.

As you sat at the bar, Dodge couldn’t think of any other way to praise whatever god trailed you in here rather than repeating the same ‘thank you’s in his head.

“Evening, lucky,” he coined the nickname from the symbol. You fought a smile at his wit, instead rolling your tongue along the flesh of your lip.

“I’m sorry, do I know you sir?”

Dodge chortled at your act, but your face stood unwavering. Your tits looked perfect while pressed against the bar, but Dodge managed to pull his eyes a little higher to see the small tick in your neck signaling your so-called ‘confusion’.

You must’ve not liked his silence, because you picked up the silence with a small sigh and your order.

“May I have a shirley temple with just a dash of lime juice, please?” you batted your eyelashes at the unconvinced boy, being met with the playful roll of his eyes.

Despite himself, Dodge began to concoct your beverage. You were strange, he thought. Where did you come from? Were you visiting? Would he see you again if nothing came from this conversation? How would he be sure?

He had to make sure this one counted, not like that pathetic excuse of conversation at the bar. The clicking of your nails rippling against the waxed bar behind his back mimicked the ticking clock– he might as well shoot a shot. Perhaps it was an easy target, especially with his luck sprawled against your back.

“Did your grandma also teach you these manners?” Dodge planted the highball in front of your impatient hands. You took a look at the glass, then him, then to the glass again, where your eyes stayed as you tasted the drink. The sugar spreads across your tongue, satisfying its parched state.

“I still don’t talk to strangers,” you said, but the smirk that played on your face told Dodge something different. Your game wouldn’t fool him, not when you drop it just as limp as that. Did you want him like he wanted you?

You two weren’t strangers, no, he knew you were meant for something more.

“So you admit to it,” he turned his head from the focus on your drink, only to catch your face hot with guilt. He chuckled to himself at your game.

“We ain’t strangers. This is our second meeting, perhaps fate is sending a message?” God, when did Dodge Mason become so sappy? He was grasping at the ends of a rope he wasn’t sure you were on the other end of.

But then you smiled. You smiled and twirled the skinny black straw around the ice of your drink. “And what message would that be?” you challenged.

Dodge leaned his elbows on the dark oak of the bar. He wet his lips with the tip of his tongue before his proposal, or rather, ‘the message’. “You should come home with me tonight.” He kept it at that; simple and charming.

You giggled like a schoolgirl at his confidence. By the looks of it, he had been a lustful young adult, admittedly like you, with maybe a studio apartment. Your mind could only think of one thing he planned to do if you accepted the invitation, and you knew it wasn’t puzzles and lemonade.

Were you opposed? Not entirely.

“And what would this night entail? What do I get from entering your home? You gon’ drive me home after?” You matched his stance, leaning forward on the folded elbows you stuck to the waxy countertop. Dodge felt a stream of intimidation flow through his veins at the way you pointed your eyebrow at him.

“Might have to come to find out,” he replied, swiping his tongue over the toothpick that hung from his mouth. You couldn’t restrain your eyes from flickering down to the pair of lips.

You were sure the sharp metal of his handle left a burning mark when he pushed you against it in the barren hallway of his apartment building. But with the incessant kissing of his lips distracting your mouth– and eventually everything else –it didn’t matter much to you anymore.

Your frame had been stripped of all fabric, laying in addition to his in the ratty hamper dejected in the corner of his room. Soon enough, he was insisting on a third round to cure the burdens of his barren tongue.

“Wanna see how you ride up close, baby,” he reasoned through a hushed tone, kissing the clammy skin of your temple.

How could you refuse? Especially when his hands began to rub those soothing circles into your hips and the tip of his tongue licked the shell of your ear during the whisper.

When he was prodding his tongue into your entrance a few minutes later, you knew it was the right decision to follow him out of the door. With your tits bouncing underneath the warm light thrusting through the ceiling of the sauna he called his room, Dodge took it upon himself to bruise your skin of this (rather heated) interaction through two large grips of his hands on your ass whilst you fucked his face.

Dodge’s curious tongue soon turned into a hungry one, accompanied by the brief scraping of his teeth against the puffy lips of your pussy. The small bumping of his skull against the wooden headboard spurred him on rather than slowed him down, and you hoped the string of moans and mewls coming from your mouth were enough gratitude to satisfy his desires.

Due to popular demand– a loose request that fell in pieces from Dodge’s dumbstruck position underneath you –you wore his cowboy hat, glaze sticking from your hairline onto the weaved material. Dodge didn’t mind, in fact, he reveled in the thought of that same sweat mixing with his own during a rodeo. Dripping down his face just like how the sudden flood of your sweet juices were coating the stubble on his chin and the point of his nose.

Dodge lived up to his word the morning after, tapping the ends of his fingers against the leather of the steering wheel to the tune of Bruce Springsteen’s voice singing “Glory Days” from the beaten up radio of Dodge’s Cadillac. Summers' heat wavered through the air of Cape even when Dodge drove past the speed limit on a lonely road.

When you arrived at the doorstep of your grandmother's house, Dodge didn’t worry about the possibility of seeing you again, only admiring the way you swayed your hips and clicked your heels against the pavement during your strut. The corners of his lips pulled up into something that was not quite a smirk.

He liked how your game was turning out.

traumatrios, 2024

divider by @saradika-graphics !

#dodge mason x reader #dodge mason #panic tv show #josie writes!

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