#im begging for one more heel run... just one more......

[samijey]

[parkerluvsu]

Heyyyyyy i loved your " PonyBoy " fic even though i hoped there will be some smut in it but can you pleaaaaaase do first time with cowboy bf Art 🧎‍♀️

omg yes you can!! im so sorry im definitely better at writing smut in a shorter fic than a longer one 😭

BED CHEM (cowboy! art donaldson x virgin! fem! reader)

art donaldson is a gentleman, truly. he pulls out chairs before you sit on them, he opens your car door for you, and carries you when your feet hurt from walking in heels all night. yes, art donaldson is a gentleman, but he's still a man. he can't stop himself from gazing a little too long at your thighs when you wear a short skirt, or your breasts when you're leaning over the table to point at something. little does he know, you're wearing these short skirts and low cut tops on purpose, you wanna see him crack, to shed that polite shell and do what he wants with you.

art is taking you out tonight, he surprised you with tickets to see a movie at the drive-in theatre in town. as you're swiping on shiny lip gloss in the mirror you decide that tonight will be the night. youve asked him to take your virginity before, practically begged him to, but he always says the same thing, "i wouldn't want you to regret it" it makes you angry, honestly, how could you regret having your first time with the best boyfriend you've ever had! you went shopping especially for tonight, hiding the blush on your face as you checked out with a set of baby blue panties, with lace trim around the edges. lost in your thoughts, you hardly notice the honk coming from outside, signaling that art is here. giving yourself one last look in the mirror, you hop down the stairs, grabbing keys and a bag before exiting your house, waving to art, who's sitting in his beaten up pickup truck. you can't help but giggle a little bit when his mouth drops open at the sight of you wearing less than he's probably ever seen you wear. getting into the car, you give him a quick peck on the cheek, art starts the car and you're on your way. as usual, arts hand finds its way to your thigh as he drives, his thumb slowly rubbing it side to side. "darlin' i-is that dress new?" you can tell arts nervous about asking, not wanting to offend you. "yeah sort of, i just haven't worn it yet. you like it?" you ask, knowing he does like it, you can tell by the way his eyes flick down every couple seconds to look at your exposed skin. he chuckles, nodding quickly as he turns into the outdoor movie theater parking lot. when he stops, you turn to art, subtly moving your arms to press your breasts together. batting your eyelashes, you ask, "art, baby would you grab me a soda from the concessions stand?" art has to tear his eyes away from your chest to answer, "'course sweetheart, be back in a minute" he exits the car, shutting the door and walking off.

now that he's gone, you can work on your plan even more, adjusting your bra to push up your breasts more, shimmying your skirt up to expose more of your legs, and pulling down a mirror to re-apply your shiny lip-gloss. taking a deep breath, you wait for art to return. when he gets back you smile sweetly at him, taking your drink and sucking on the straw and making eye contact with him. you don't see it, but art has to wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans, your suggestive actions making him break out in a sweat just from the effort to not jump your bones in this shitty drive in parking lot.

both you and art feel like the cheesy 90 minute movie is taking about 3 hours, for you, youre waiting for art to make a move, or at least signal that hes open to your obvious advances. for art, hes running scenario after scenario in his head, what could go right, what could go wrong, and everything in between. when the movie finally ends, art drives you home in silence, both of you trying to find something to say. stopping in front of your house he turns toward you, opening his mouth to say something before you interrupt him, "will you come inside?" art shuts his mouth quickly and nods, letting his cowboy hat fall in front of his flushed face.

walking up the steps to your door, art follows close behind you, bowing his head when he gets through the door. it's hard to the describe the feeling you get when youre walking towards your bedroom with art, hes been here before but this time feels different. sitting on the edge of your creaky bed, art makes the first move, cupping your face with his larger hand and pressing his mouth to yours, handling you soft and sweet, like he knows you deserve. he has to stop himself from groaning into your mouth when you move his hat off of his head, threading your fingers through his hair. art pulls you closer, his hands on your waist, lightly squeezing. the kiss turns more heated, and to your delight, art seems more accepting of the change of pace than he was in times before, the farthest you've gone was lightly grinding over his worn jeans. without taking his mouth off of yours, art moves you onto his lap, one hand on the small of your back to keep you steady, and the other one cupping your face gently. you have to pull away first, as much as you'd like to keep kissing him you don't want to suffocate. opening your eyes and pulling away you're able to see the cute flush on arts face, his pupils dialated and his hair messy. "i wanna keep going art.. please, ive asked you before" you don't want to sound desperate, but you are, the butterflies in your stomach becoming more intense. you can tell that arts mulling it over in his head, biting his lip.

"alright darlin' you trust me yeah? you have to tell me if you dont want me to do something, promis me, won't you?" he asks, the hand on your back rubbing up and down. you nod eagerly, "i promise art" art smiles, leaning in to kiss you again, this times with more passion than before, now knowing that you want everything he can give you. leaning into him, you undo the buttons on arts shirt quickly, helping him take it off of his shoulders. you run your hands down his chest, smiling into the kiss when he shivers. arts hands, callused from his work as a cowboy, dip under the hem of your shirt, helping you pull it up and over your shoulders. art attaches his lips to your neck, sucking and biting, leaving purple marks in his wake that you're sure will be hard to cover. under the guise of kissing your neck, arts expert hands undo the clasp of your bra, removing it from your chest. youre lost in the feeling of his mouth against you, arts lips moving against your chest. you try to reach down and undo arts belt, but it's proving more difficult than you thought. art, luckily knows what youre trying to do, moving you off of his lap and placing you gently against your pillows, kneeling between your spread legs.

arts mouth is against yours once again, you hear the clunk of his belt against the floor and you smile, letting him kiss his way down your stomach. art looks up at you from between your legs, his blue eyes meeting yours, "if you wanna go further i gotta prep you first, alright darlin'?" you nod, letting him slip off your skirt. in your haste, you had forgotten the special panties you were wearing just for him, but arts soft gasp against you brings you back to earth. he slips off your panties quickly as well, and you're almost offended that he didn't admire them more, until you notice him sticking them into his back pocket, the blue lace peeking out. art rubs a finger up and down your slick folds, his mouth coming to press a kiss on your clit, causing your hand to fly down to grip onto his hair. you feel him grin against you, before putting his mouth to work, pressing as close as he can to you. the sudden intrusion of one of his fingers startles you, causing you to clench tightly around him. he sighs onto you, the breath of warm air intensifying the feeling even more. "fuck sweetheart you gotta relax more for me, or else im never gonna fit in here.." he practically groans against you. you nod, letting your head flop against the pillow behind you, letting his thumb rub quick circles on your clit, distracting you from the stretch of another finger inside of you. you have to resist the urge to shut your thighs around arts head when he scissors his fingers inside of you, the feeling getting closer and closer to the pleasure you feel when you're alone in bed.

suddenly, you're ripped out of the clouds of pleasure when art takes his fingers out of you, making his way back up your body. he kisses your forehead, looking at you softly. "you have a condom right? i want you to be safe the first time" you nod, reaching into your bedside drawer for the box of condoms you got for this very occasion. he takes one from you, ripping off the wrapper with his teeth and pulling it over his dick. he hovers over you again, pressing his forehead against yours, noticing your wide eyes when you look down and see his size. he taps your cheek gently, "focus on me, okay? i promise ill take care of you darlin'" you nod, letting him press his tip into you. art sees the grimace on your face and pauses, letting you adjust. when he sees you've relaxed he starts again, repeating the cycle until he's fully pressed into you. now its your turn to tap him on the cheek, letting him know that he can start to move. arts eyes flutter closed, pulling his hips out slowly before thrusting back into you, pushing out moan after moan from you, his dick reaching spots your fingers never could. arts thrusts are languid and deep, making sure you can feel every inch of his when he pushes back into you. art almost looses his mind when you wrap your legs around his hips, making sure he isnt going anywhere. art can tell you're close, the way your moans are getting louder and louder in his ear, and the way you're pulsing around him. "i- im close art" you manage to get the words out between moans. art nods, speeding up his thrusts to meet your needs. "alright sweetheart.. it's okay, it's okay, fuck, im close too" he groans out, his hips starting to stutter. lucky for art, you cum first, he thinks the guilt of cumming before you on your first time would eat him alive. he kisses you through your orgasm, swallowing your moans of his name as he gives you a few last thrusts before he's tumbling over the edge right after you. art lets you ride out your orgasm before slowly pulling out, throwing away the condom and laying down next to you. after you catch your breath, you lay your head on arts chest, the steady beat of his heart calming your own. his hand comes to hold yours, squeezing it gently. "you did real good for your first time darlin'" you smile, grateful for the praise from him. you reach over the bed, grabbing his cowboy hat and putting it on. "next time ill be on top okay? i wanna be a cowgirl" you giggle, winking at him. he laughs and shakes his head, rubbing your back. "you don't even know what youre getting yourself into sweetheart.." <3

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

Great Balls Of Fire

Bradley Bradshaw x fem!reader 9k words (ik. i did it again. im sorry)

summary: It’s been four months since you last saw Bradley Bradshaw. Today's the day he finally comes back from his mission and you have more than one ace up your sleeve to surprise him with.

a/n: smut ahead. 18+ im serious theres smut theres a lot of smut. okay. as usual i will now list everything you may have to look out for

fancy ass lingerie, oral sex fem!receiving, unprotected sex (dont be like them, just know theyre in a committed relationship theyve had the talk and all), a lot of begging, hair pulling, good girl's because yes, in general again bradley is a talker, otherwise that's it

top gun masterlist

It had been so long. It had been too long.

With the sun beating down hard on the pavement of the parking lot, the sunglasses on your nose doing their hardest to protect your eyes from the worst of the light, the sound of your heels clicking against solid ground as you took a few steps into the shade of the tree next to Bradley's Bronco. You had been waiting for ten minutes now, checking your phone what seemed like every five seconds, too nervous to actually pay attention to it but too nervous to keep calm either.

You had been so scared you would crash into a grandma on the way over here that you had honestly considered taking your own car instead of the Bronco - but Bradley had trusted you with it, had trusted you to keep his lady running, you, even though he never let anyone else as much as touch the steering wheel, and you would be damned if you didn't pick him up in it.

You hadn't seen him in four months. Four months.

You had been by yourself, had been on your own, had been lonely for four fucking months.

But today was the day you would see him again. Today was the day his oh-so-secret mission would finally, truly come to an end, the day that you would finally, truly see him again. Not over some low-quality video call in the middle of the night, with only your kitchen lights on in the background and your mind hazy and tired because he was nine hours ahead of you and seemed to be at the other end of the world - no, today you would finally, finally, finally see him in the flesh.

You'd been anticipating this moment for the past four months.

So this had to be perfect.

This would be perfect.

You had done everything possible to make this the most perfect day of his goddamn life. You had spent the last four months moving things from the old apartment to the new house - those things that you and him hadn't already moved anyway - and the past week, you'd been cleaning, decorating, anticipating.

He had told you so often how much he missed you. How much he wished he had been there for you, to help you pack the things, to help you take them apart and put them back together, to do more than just the paperwork and set up the bed and the couch.

But he couldn't. And now you were bubbling with nervous excitement, with the joy of sharing all of it with him, to show him the desk you'd put up in the bedroom, the pillows you'd bought for the couch, the paintings you'd hung up on the walls, the kitchen table you'd replaced, the kitchen tiles you'd painted. To show him how much better this new home was than the old apartment had been (even though you'd been very happy there for the past four years as well).

And Bradley would love it. You were sure of that.

You just wanted him to see it so desperately.

You looked up as another car approached - it wasn't Bradley, you knew that, Bradley would come out of that door opposite you, not out of a car, but... There was still some tiny little sliver of hope, the same way there had been every single goddamn time someone had rung your doorbell. It had only ever been the postman or your food.

The car stopped next to you. You watched the engine being turned off and the driver get out because, well, what else was there to do except nervously shift your weight from one leg onto the other and go insane?

So you watched the stranger hop out of their car, nodded politely at them and then refocused your attention on the tips of your sandals. At least you weren't the only one waiting here anymore.

You got out your phone again, checked the time (it'd been a minute and a half since you'd last looked at it) and let out a sigh.

It wasn't that Bradley was late. There wasn't really a "late" anyway, he'd only been able to give you a vague time he'd arrive on, but still. You'd been buzzing with nervous energy for over a week.

You took a deep breath to steady yourself, wiped your sweaty palms off on the sundress you'd put on - the tiny yellow sundress that Bradley had picked out for you on your birthday last year. The tiny yellow sundress that hid the sinful white lingerie under it just perfectly. The sinful white lingerie that you had bought for this very moment.

Bradley would go feral for it, you knew that. He loved white. You thought it was because it looked innocent, chaste. Like something untainted, something waiting to be ruined. Not that you minded. One day, he had promised himself, he would admit to you that it was because it looked like something you would wear on your wedding night.

But either way, you had gone shopping for the perfect set of lingerie and you were more than happy with your final choice.

Bradley could unwrap you like a present. You were desperately hoping he would unwrap you like a present.

You had spent the last four months not doing anything other than hoping. Imagining. Remembering.

So you weren't surprised that you felt like you'd soaked through those pretty (and expensive) panties already.

Your breath hitched. You shifted your weight again.

Bradley would carry you in his big, strong arms over the doorstep, would push you against the wall, would take everything he wanted from you and give everything you needed - he'd pull your dress right off and, at the sight of your lingerie, would fuck you raw.

You had to bite down on your lip to keep you grounded. Four months away had been a long, long time. Four months in which you'd only had yourself, your fingers, your vibrator to keep you company - four months in which you'd only heard Bradley's moans spill over the phone, had only heard him call you honey and good girl through a low-quality mic, had only seen him on pictures he'd left you, on a tiny screen at best.

You were depraved. And pretty sure you'd fall apart at the first touch.

You were so immersed in your thoughts, in that lovely imagery you had created in your head, that you almost missed the door opening. Finally. Finally. You straightened up at once.

It wasn't Bradley who stepped out first - it was one of his colleagues, you guessed, with blonde hair and much shorter - but it was Bradley who stepped out second. You'd know him from miles away.

He strode out of the door and into the sunlight, all familiar brown curls and broad shoulders and Ray-Bans on his nose and an Hawaiian shirt on and his bag lazily slung over his shoulder and that moustache - by god you'd have killed him if he'd shaved that off!

He turned his head and looked at you and a grin broke out on your lips, so wide, so incredibly wide that it felt like it'd split your face in half and before you could think, before you could form any coherent thought you were already moving, your legs with a mind of their own. You were sprinting towards him. Sprinting all through the parking lot, your heels click-clicking on the pavement, and Bradley grinned, grinned and let his bag fall to the ground carelessly, opened his arms instead. Wide, so wide. He was so tall. So broad. So inviting as you ran at him, as you jumped at him, as you wrapped your arms and your legs around him at the same time, as he caught you effortlessly, as your lips landed on his.

As you crashed into him, completely, and he didn't even stagger an inch back.

You had missed four months of this.

And now his lips were on yours. Your legs around his waist. Your arms crossed behind his neck. His breath against your mouth. His lips parted. His tongue against yours.

You were desperate. And you could feel just how desperate he was, too.

You could feel all the passion, all the fiery, red passion, all the force and firmness put into this kiss as his tongue ran along yours, as your breaths met and mingled, as his hands dug into your thighs to keep you upright, to keep you snug to him.

You pulled back incredibly reluctantly. You didn't want to let go of him. You never wanted to let go of him ever again. You wanted to have him, all of him, right here, right now, and then for eternity. But you couldn't, you couldn't because this was the middle of the parking lot, and also because you at least wanted to say hello first.

So you blinked open your eyes and took him in and allowed yourself to grin as broad and as wide as you needed to right now.

"You're back", you whispered, just because that realisation still had to sink in. "You're really back."

Bradley nuzzled your nose with his and let out a hum - god, how you'd missed him. The feel of him, the sound of him.

"Yeah, I'm here, honey", he muttered, that smile of his dripping down onto his voice. "I'm here and I won't leave any time soon."

You couldn't help but lean in again, couldn't help but capture his lips again because how else, how on earth would you let him feel all the joy you were experiencing right now? You didn't even know if you could actually feel all of it. You definitely wouldn't be able to put it into words. So you dug your teeth into his bottom lip and sighed into him and pulled him closer, closer and closer, even further into you.

"I missed you", you breathed against his mouth. "I love you and I missed you, Bradley."

He chuckled, kissed you again, drew back just enough to still touch you somehow, to still have his lips on your skin somehow and be able to talk at the same time.

"I love you so much, honey", he muttered. "And I missed you so much."

And then his lips were on yours again, his fingers digging even harder into your thighs, his breath and his tongue and his moustache scratching against your skin and you moaned, because there was no more anything you could possibly have done, because you couldn't help yourself, because you couldn't stop yourself, because you didn't want to either. You wanted to let him know just how goddamn fucking much you'd missed him.

Bradley had to bite back a laugh, pulled back and looked at you through his sunglasses.

"Sounds like we should get home, honey", he said, his eyebrows raised and his smile deepening with every word. "Been waiting for that for four months."

You let out another soft moan, pushed yourself even closer to him, dug one hand into the back of his hair and scratched the other down his shoulders, down his shirt. You wanted to feel him. All of him. God, the ride home would take ten minutes. Ten minutes. How were you supposed to survive that?

"Please", you whispered onto his lips, and you didn't think you had ever meant it as much as you did now.

Bradley groaned and kissed you again, quickly, heatedly, his tongue running along your bottom lip and then pulling back again. This wasn't enough. This wasn't enough.

He set you down on the pavement again softly, your legs a bit wobbly, unsteady, and trailed one hand from your thigh to your back - anything to keep touching you as he bent down to pick up his bag again. You smiled up at him, smoothed down the front of your dress and beamed as his eyes traveled down your body.

When they snapped back up to catch your gaze, the grin on his face had turned into a much more intense expression.

"You look gorgeous, honey", he muttered, tugging you further into his side, letting his eyes drop down to your chest again. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from jumping at him right this second. He should not have been allowed to just look at you if you couldn't have him touch you too. "Did you pick out new nail polish just for this dress?"

Your grin broadened. Of course he'd notice. Bradley Bradshaw was the only man in the whole universe who would notice. And he was yours.

"Yes, I did", you smiled, looking up at him as he walked with you back to the car. He hummed softly.

"It works great together", he said. Your breath hitched. He was gorgeous and he was here and he had noticed your nail polish. He was perfect. And you wanted him to fuck your brains out. "Reminds me of your burgundy silk dress."

You had to bite down on your lip again - god, you hadn't done that nearly as often when he'd been away! - to keep yourself grounded and to keep your grin in check before it could truly split your face in half.

Your burgundy silk dress was the one you'd worn to Penny and Mav's wedding two years ago that you had spent three weeks hunting down matching lipstick and matching nail polish for. Bradley had worn that lipstick on the base of his cock for most of the night.

"You're incredible, do you know that?", you asked, your voice a bit breathy. Bradley stopped in front of the Bronco, turned to you and pulled you close again. You brought your hands up to his chest.

"I've been told", he muttered, tilted his head down to look at you and then leaned down even further to brush a kiss to your nose. "Open up the Bronco so I can put my bag in the trunk?"

You let your eyes flutter close for just a tiny little moment (he was close, so close and you would literally die if he didn't start touching you any time soon) and breathed in as Bradley chuckled. You'd put the key in your pocket and were scrambling to get it out now, taking one, two seconds too long before you heard the familiar click of the car unlocking.

"Thanks, pretty girl", Bradley mumbled, letting go of you to pull open the trunk and you had to push down a sigh of disappointment, even as anticipation rose up in your stomach. You hadn't heard him call you pretty girl in months.

When he turned back around to you, you were still frozen in spot, still smiling dumbly at him, still waiting for him to touch you, to kiss you, to fuck you. He smiled back and you knew that he knew just what you were thinking. But you couldn't even begin to care. You wanted to get him home as quickly as possible.

"You need to stop looking at me like that, honey", he said, his voice an octave deeper and you just so managed not to let another dumb, pathetic moan slip. He closed the trunk and took a step back to you. "You know I can't help myself when you look at me like that."

At that, you did let the moan tumble from your lips after all.

He'd been away for four months. And he was looking at you with his eyes all dark and his jaw clenched and his chest rising and falling heavily. How on earth were you supposed to be normal about this? You were falling apart already and he hadn't even got you home. Four months had been a long, long time.

His hands were on your waist then, forcing you against the side of the bronco, the door handle digging into your back, the metal warmed up by the sun and your arms crossing behind his neck as his body crowded yours, one leg between yours and no more space to touch, to feel, to see anything that wasn't him - he turned his head to check if the other car had driven away and then his lips were on yours, his knee pressing against your centre.

"Bradley", you moaned into his mouth, before his tongue brushed yours and rendered you speechless. You rocked against his knee, bare skin against your thighs and you wanted to sob, you really actually wanted to sob, because this was the most contact you'd gotten in four fucking months.

Bradley pulled back an inch.

"You're soaked", he groaned against your lips, his breath on your skin, his hands on your waist and you thrust your head back against the car, against the window, squeezed your eyes shut, kept on rocking against his knee.

"I know", you whined. "Been soaked for months."

Bradley let out another groan and pulled back, pulled away from you and you whimpered, blinking your eyes open again because you'd been so close to finally getting what you wanted and now he was taking that right away from you again. You looked up at him and the only reason you didn't straight up voice your disappointment was that he looked just as debauched as you felt - running his hands through his hair, running them over his face, his curls all messed up and a considerable bulge already visible in his jeans.

"Get in the car", he rasped, taking another step back from you as though he had to physically put distance between the two of you so he wouldn't give in and take you right in this parking lot. Not that you would've minded. That other car was long gone. But that he had to restrain himself so much, that he looked so positively exhausted, that his voice was so hard and so rough and so raw, that he had already, so easily begun giving you orders drove you crazy. Orders that you knew you had to follow because this was him, this was Bradley, and if he wanted something from you.... he'd get it. You'd give it to him no matter what. You'd give him everything.

So you pushed yourself off the car with a hard breath and trailed around to the passenger side, keeping your eyes on the ground even as you heard Bradley shuffle and open the driver's door because you knew that if you looked at him, no matter how much you wanted to follow his commands, there was a high chance you wouldn't be able to help yourself.

It wouldn't be the first time.

The seat felt hot and your skin sticked to it immediately and you would have cared in any other situation, but not in this one. Not when Bradley put his hand to your thigh, to your bare skin, to just below the hem of your dress. You could have cried.

He was here, finally, and he was touching you, finally, but he wasn't touching you enough, not nearly enough. This would be a long ten minutes. You pushed your sunglasses up into your hair, turned your head and rested it against the head rest, smiling at the image before you - Bradley in the driver's seat of his Bronco, the steering wheel in one hand, the sun on his face, his curls longer than when you'd last seen them. Had he got more tan? Was that possible?

God, how you'd missed this man.

And he was here now, here, next to you, with one hand on your thigh and a grin playing on his lips and you couldn't help but smile. Big and broad and all-consuming because he was here again, this man that you called yours, he was right here next to you after four months. You loved him. You'd missed him so incredibly much.

His hand moved a little higher up on your thigh, his thumbs brushing, stroking over exposed skin, raising up your dress the slightest bit. Your breath hitched.

"Bradley-", you sighed, jaw clenching as you melted, melted at every little touch because you didn't have to only remember it anymore. You could just push up into him, watch him, breathe in his familiar scent, run your fingers along his arm. This was no more imagining, no more picturing, this was real, this was happening.

"God, I missed you saying my name like that", he groaned, tightening his grip on your thigh and you bit down on your lip, wrapped your fingers around his biceps, his wrist, forced yourself to keep your eyes open so you could keep watching him. You wouldn't miss out on a single second of watching him.

"Bradley", you repeated softly. "I'll say your name as often as you want me to."

His fingers dug even harder into your thigh as he let out some strangled sounding moan.

"You're gonna be the death of me", he muttered - how often you'd thought the same about him! "I'm lucky if I can hold out these ten minutes."

You watched him quietly for a second. You could sense the heat radiating off of him, could see his clenched jaw, could feel his deathgrip on your thigh, could hardly ignore the blazing arousal in your own veins. But if he'd wanted to fuck you in the back of his Bronco, he would've. (As picky as he was about who drove his car, he'd never had a single problem railing you into oblivion in the backseat.) There was a reason he was holding out. You could only guess that he wanted to do this properly - with time and room and no risk of getting caught by the authorities. Should you have minded? Should you have begged him to take you as quickly as possible? You were sure he would have, if you'd pleaded prettily enough. But you were quite alright with time and room and no risk of getting caught. At least for right now. The both of you would manage a ten minute ride, right? You had managed four months. Ten minutes were nothing in comparison.

"Okay", you said, trailed your fingers down to his and intertwined your hands. "I'll help. I'll tell you something. Distract you."

"You can try, honey", he chuckled, sneaked a quick sideways glance at you. "Tell me about the house."

You lit up at that. You had been dying to tell him about the house. So you pushed your arousal deep, deep down (which was easier said than done) and smiled up at him.

"I don't even know where to start", you said honestly, giving yourself a second to think about it. You had ten minutes, after all. And you had to fill them all if you wanted both of you to survive this drive.

So you told him about everything.

The short version, of course.

He'd heard some of it over the phone already, but he hadn't been able to call often and you'd spent most of your time crying and telling him how much you loved and missed him when he had answered, so...

The ten minutes went by more easily this way. You went on and on and on and on about the house, his fingers between yours, your eyes locked on his, with the occasional comment about how sorry he was that he hadn't been there to help. It had been unfortunate, of course, but at the same time it had given you something to put all your time and effort into, which had greatly helped you through his deployment. Plus, there had always been help when you had needed it - Penny and Amelia and Mav, Phoenix and Bob and Jake. The rest of the squad had been scattered, called off to their own missions, but those six you had been able to count on whenever.

Bradley's hand on your thigh was still highly distracting. He moved it up and down a few times, and each time your breath hitched, each time you stumbled over your own words, each time he grinned again.

At one point, his fingertips brushed so close to your underwear that you pushed his hand forcefully back down to your knee. He had been the one so worried he wouldn't manage a ten minute ride and now he was the one teasing you.

Not that you really minded.

But you truly felt like going insane.

Then, finally! you caught sight of your driveway. Bradley was out of the car the second he'd parked it, pulling his hand from your thigh and the key out of the ignition and you had barely unbuckled yourself when he was already opening your door, taking your hand and tugging you out, sending you stumbling into him, into his arms.

He pressed his lips to yours as he pushed the door close, pushed you up against it again, pushed the hem of your dress up to grasp at your bare thigh. You wrapped your arms around his neck, forced him even closer.

"Bradley", you gasped softly. You hadn't moaned his name like that in four months, you'd do it so often today he would get tired of it. Even though you knew that he wouldn't, of course - he would never get tired of you whispering his name into his mouth, into the nothingness of an empty room, into his ear, into the pillows.

He didn't pull back from you, even as he took a slow, careful step away - making sure you'd catch on, making sure you'd follow, making sure to keep you safely, steadily against him. Not that you'd have done anything else. You trusted him with your life, you would trust him to keep you upright. So you did just what he wanted, followed, stumbled with him, eyes closed, lips on his, fingers brushing along his shoulders.

He did pull back then - just an inch or two, to turn you around, to look over your shoulder once, to tear his hand from your thigh and wrap his arms around you instead. And then his lips were back on yours again and his tongue running along yours. He pushed and you followed his wordless command, your legs working quicker than your mind, stumbling, tripping backwards, backwards, backwards and you barely cared, barely even acknowledged the ground beneath your feet because you were wrapped up in his arms, because you were tugging at his curls, because he was here, kissing you, finally.

You weren't needy.

You were desperate. You were depraved, frantic, starved. He was the air you needed to breathe and you hadn't taken a single breath in the past four months.

So you weren't pretending in the way you pulled him close, closer, closer, or in the frenzied way you kissed him, or in the desperate way you sighed, groaned, moaned against him, into him. You needed him. You needed more of him. All of him. You needed to get inside so you could have him.

You bumped into the door then, just short of digging the doorknob into your spine - Bradley pushed you right up against it and you gasped into his mouth, into the kiss. He crowded you against the door much like he'd crowded you against the Bronco, pulling his arms from around you to grasp your waist instead, to press your hips up to the door as well, and used one hand to fumble for the keyhole. He did so blindly, with his eyes still closed, his lips still on yours, with one of your legs coming up to wrap around his hips, your heels digging into his shorts.

Needless to say, he needed quite some time to turn the key.

You didn't mind. Not in the slightest.

You were making out with Bradley Bradshaw right on the doorstep of the house you shared with him, in the bright afternoon sunlight and truly, you couldn't have minded less. You didn't give two fucks about any of your neighbours or any passerbys spotting you - should they, by god! Bradley had come home from deployment after four months, you would make out with him on your doorstep for as long as you wanted to. You wouldn't ever stop making out with him ever again.

Not when he was here again, in your arms, with your fingers tugging at his hair, brushing along his neck, stroking along the collar of his shirt, sweeping along his shoulders. Not with your leg around his hips. Not with your lips on his. Not with anticipation, with arousal in every fibre of your body, of your soul. You were going mad with it. You were getting drunk on it.

You were euphoric when Bradley finally opened the gods damned front door.

He kept you safe and steady even as the support at your back broke away, as you almost crashed onto the floor of your own hallway. He walked you back into the pleasant cold and for once, for the first and probably the only time, you were the one to break away. You gave yourself a second to catch your breath. Then you pushed off of him completely. You took a step away, pulled the key from the door, pushed it close and when you turned back around, Bradley had set his sunglasses down on the little table you had put next to the coat rack a few weeks ago.

And you looked him in the eyes for the first time in four months.

He motioned at the table.

"Looks great, honey", he said, his voice a little too rough to sound quite normal. "Nice touch."

You shook your head softly.

"I couldn't care less about the table right now", you muttered, and with that, you were on him again. Actually, truly, fully on him again. You pushed yourself right up onto him, into him, pried his shirt off his shoulders, off his arms, let it drop down to the ground and then reached for his jaw to drag him further down, to deepen the kiss even if you knew that was impossible. So you bit down on his lip and allowed him to finally push your dress up over your hips, over your chest, over your head - you had to let go of him for a moment then, had to pull away from him so he could drop your dress on the floor and before you could even come close to reaching out for him again, he was taking a step back.

You could feel his eyes raking down your body. You could feel him taking in the white lingerie on your skin - the strings of the thong high up on your hips, intricate lace around your waist, the small bow right in the centre of it, the bra cups almost transparent, the floral white pattern covering up your nipples, the other few, small bows sown onto the straps.

You sucked in a breath at the look on his face. You hadn't seen that look in far too long.

"God, honey", Bradley groaned, reached for your waist, brushed his thumbs along the lace, ran his fingertips along the lingerie. You bit down on your lip as he pulled you, slowly, carefully, into him - gave you enough time to rest your hands on his chest, your palms against his tank top. "You look sinful. Did you buy that just for me?"

You nodded, swallowed.

"Just for you", you admitted. "Wanted to surprise you."

Bradley tugged you another inch closer, so close that your chest bumped into his, your breasts pressing against him. He let out a hum, his eyes dropping down to your cleavage.

"You did that, pretty girl", he muttered, his fingers digging into your sides. "You're incredible."

Then his lips were on yours again and you were melting, becoming putty in his hands, turning to goo in his arms. Your breaths met, lips parted. You couldn't quite believe you were finally touching him again.

He walked you back to the bedroom, narrowly avoiding the doorway, his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into your bum. You reached for the hem of his shirt, forced him to stop right on the threshold so you could get rid of it - get rid of that one layer of fabric still in the way. You drew back for a second to pull it over his head, to drop it to the floor, to let your eyes travel all over his bare torso.

God, how you'd missed this man and his broad shoulders and his washboard abs. How you'd missed his touch and the sound of his voice.

"Bradley", you gasped softly, your fingertips trailing over his naked skin, down to his shorts. "I need you."

He let out a groan.

"I've waited four months for you to say that again", he muttered. You could hardly take another breath before he was on you again - lips on yours and hands on your hips and your back hit the bed a moment later, the cushy mattress, the fluffy pillows softening your fall.

You raised yourself up onto your elbows so you could watch him as he stood in front of your bed, the sunlight dripping down him like drops of water hitting the floorboards, his torso bare, his curls messed up, looking down at you with a heaving chest, his fingers on his belt, unhooking it, opening the button on his jeans, pulling down his zipper - you swallowed hard as you watched him drop his shorts on the floor, step out of his shoes.

A whine rolled off your tongue.

"Bradley, hurry up", you whimpered, your fingers cramping in the sheets, your legs pressing together all of their own accord, trying to get some kind of friction as he undressed himself in slow motion while you just lay there, your panties long soaked through and your fingers itching to trail down your own body.

Bradley chuckled.

"Don't worry, honey", he muttered, kneeling down on the ground to drop kisses to your calves before pulling off your sandals. "I'll make sure you forget about the past four months, alright?"

Your breath hitched as your heels hit the ground.

"Please", you begged softly. "I've missed you so much."

He wrapped his hands around your hips, pulled you to the edge of the bed - his breath ghosting over your underwear, over that tiny white piece of lingerie you had bought for him, for him to take you apart in. His fingers dug into your skin, spread out wide, to touch as much of you as he possibly could. He pressed a kiss right to that wet spot on your thong.

You let out a moan. God, how had you survived four months without him? You were barely surviving fifteen minutes of not having him fuck you.

Bradley grinned, raised his head to meet your eyes and seriously, you were close. Too close. He hadn't touched you yet, not really. You'd die today, you were sure, die and go to heaven.

"You look almost too good to undress, honey", he muttered, brushing his thumbs below that lace around your waist, not making a move to pull it down your legs.

"Bradley, please", you whined, your hands brushing over your own chest, running over your bra cups, tracing the flowers, desperately holding back from just ripping everything off yourself, pushing him onto his knees and riding him into oblivion. "Don't tease. I need you."

He groaned into the skin of your thigh.

"Anything you want, honey", he muttered - and then your thong was gone and he was burying his tongue inside you, dipping, tracing, licking, circling your clit, breathing you in, devouring you. Taking and giving everything. It had been four months since he'd had you like this and he wanted everything, every inch of you he could get. He wanted to taste you, every last drop of you, wanted to eat you out until you couldn't think anymore, until you had truly, fully forgotten all the time he had been away, all the time you had been forced to be on your own, alone.

You thrashed, moaned above him - your fingers clenching around your bra, brushing over your nipples. You were close. Close after the entirety of three seconds, close to tears, close to coming.

"Bradley", you choked out, tearing your hands off yourself, burying them in his hair instead - tugging him off, tugging him away from you. You took a deep breath as he let go of you, as he loosened his grip on you, looked up at you with desperation in his eyes.

"I need you to fuck me", you whimpered, already too sensitive, too tense. "I need you inside me."

You hadn't had him in four months.

Four months had been enough goddamn foreplay. As much as you loved when he ate you out, you needed him, you needed his cock, you needed to feel him inside you, you needed him to take you apart and make up for all the time lost.

Bradley nodded, nodded because he knew, he understood - he saw the frantic look in your eyes, had felt the desperate drag of your hands at his clothes, his arms, his shoulders, his hair. He'd give anything to you. Everything. He would do whatever you wanted of him.

Maybe in another situation he'd have made you beg more, would have teased you more, would have edged you a few times. Maybe in another situation. But not in this one. Not after four months of being away from you, not when you were so beautifully, so desperately spread out beneath him, looking up at him with wide eyes and rosy cheeks, your lip pulled between your teeth, your gorgeous white lingerie still concealing too much of your skin.

As he'd said, you were almost too gorgeous to undress. But just almost.

So he rose up from the ground, pulled you up with him, pulled you in, his fingers brushing along your sides, your spine, your bra clasp. He let it fall open. You worked fast, worked your bra down your arms and off your hands and drew back from him to fling it against the wall and lay down on the bed, lay down all pretty and waiting.

You needed him to fuck you. Now.

He let out a groan, closed his eyes. The look on his face had you pressing your legs together again. Wetness was coating the inside of your thighs now. It glistened on his moustache. And you were sure you could have tasted it on his tongue too.

He was making you go insane.

"How do you want me, pretty girl?", he asked, pressing his knees into the side of the mattress. "Tell me how and I'll do whatever you want."

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your nerves were bubbling up. Four months. You'd waited four months for this one question.

"Behind", you whined. "Need you from behind."

Bradley had known, of course, because that was what you always said when he stood at the front of your bed and asked you this question. His hands were on your waist, grasping, grabbing, turning you over before you had fully finished speaking, your cheek pressed against the pillows, your breath coming short and shorter, adrenaline pumping through every single one of your veins. You felt hot and sticky and needy and nervous.

Nervous because Bradley stilled.

Nervous because he sucked in a sharp breath.

Nervous, even though you had been here a million times before, in his bed and in yours, bent over desks and bars and couches, with the heat of him behind you, arousal flowing through your body like oxygen, anticipation clouding your mind.

"Shit, honey", Bradley breathed.

You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw.

How you'd have loved to see his expression. But you had known you wouldn't. You had prepared yourself to be satisfied with the sound of his voice, with the feel of him so close to you.

"Shit", Bradley repeated. He took another deep breath in. "You got a tattoo?"

A tattoo.

Your tattoo.

You nodded into the pillow, scraped your cheek against the fabric, so eager, so quick to agree. Four months you had waited for this. Four months since you had begun planning this - the very day after he'd left, in a conversation with none other than Phoenix. Four long, lonely months.

Bradley ran his thumb along the soft expanse of your skin. Along that strip of skin right above your hips, just where they met your back - right above your ass, right where he could see so very perfectly.

He was gentle. Almost not touching you at all. As though he was afraid he could somehow, even after all this time, hurt you, as though he was afraid he could wipe it away.

"It's healed", you whined, breathlessly, trying your hardest not to squirm, not to push back further into him even though you felt like you were going insane. You'd known he'd take his sweet time staring at that inked expanse of skin. But you hadn't known you would be so goddamn desperate for him to fuck you into delirium while he did so. "It's fully healed."

Bradley was quiet, silent behind you. His thumb stilled, stayed still. You sunk your teeth into your lip.

You would truly go mad here. For more than one reason now.

Bradley was always loud. Always moving, always doing something. He was forward and honest and loud and it was a miracle, really, when he wasn't. When he was calm and quiet and still. It didn't always mean something good.

It surely didn't always mean something bad, either.

But it didn't always mean something good.

And you hadn't been nervous. You hadn't been nervous about showing him, because you knew he loved you and he'd love this - this show of him, this show for him. Just for him. But you had still been fidgety. You had still been excited, flustered.... nervous, after all. In a good way. Now, good was turning to less good because he was quiet, for once, quiet and you didn't know what to do, what to say. You had expected him to go feral, had expected him to fuck you raw, to go absolutely ballistic. You had imagined, pictured, visualised it, four months long. Every night that you hadn't been remembering him, you had been imagining this - this moment right here, where he read the words inked forever into your skin, and every time, again and again, your fingers hadn't been enough, your vibrator hadn't been enough, nothing had been enough. Not in comparison to him, to his fingers and his tongue and his cock.

And every time, again and again, when nothing had been enough to replace him, you thought to yourself just how right it had been to have lain on that leather table bed in that tattoo parlour four months ago. Just how right it was to have him marked on your skin like that. Forever.

Great Balls Of Fire.

"Bradley, please", you whimpered, your fingers closing around whatever piece of fabric you could manage to grab at - the covers, the sheets, the pillows. "Say something. Please"

Bradley let out a long breath.

"Great Balls Of Fire?", he asked quietly, his fingers brushing over your skin again. Some kind of reassurance, at least.

"Thought you'd like it", you mumbled into the pillow, stumbling, tripping over your words a bit, still breathless around the edges. You couldn't be expected to talk now. Not when he was so close to giving you what you needed.

"Like it?" His hands wrapped around your waist, his left thumb still stroking over those unfamiliar familiar letters on your skin - Great Balls Of Fire, in his handwriting, taken from one of his sheets of music, from his piano. His song. His father's song.

Your song.

Your song.

Your song.

"Honey", Bradley rasped, pulling you an inch back to him and you let a whine fall from your lips. You were soaked, you were dripping, you were desperate and still so very unsatisfied. "Do I like it? I love it. I love you. God, you got a tattoo. You're incredible. You're-"

He stumbled over his own words, trailed off, left his sentence hanging unfinished in mid air. Instead, he leaned down and pressed a kiss right on top of your tattoo. Right on top of those letters, on top of that song, on top of your song. On top of the very reason you had met, six years ago in a stuffed navy bar.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me", he muttered, dropping another kiss onto your skin.

You whimpered again.

"You've been so good to me, honey, haven't you?", he went on, as though he wasn't hearing those little whines, those little moans rolling off your tongue. He was. You knew that. "You waited so prettily for me to come back, didn't you? You were so eager for me to be home again, so eager for me to be with you again that you even got a tattoo?"

You nodded along, nodded and nodded and kept on nodding because yes, yes and yes - yes to everything, yes to him.

"You got a tattoo just for me, honey. You can't even see it. Probably had to twist and turn in the mirror every day to take care of it, didn't you? And all just for me."

You nodded again - never really stopped nodding, not with his fingers brushing along your back, over your skin, with his voice so deep and rough and real.

"Just for you", you whined.

Bradley chuckled.

"Just for me", he repeated, his voice deeper than before - if that was even possible - his fingers stroking along your sides, roaming over your back, your spine. "Such a good girl."

A shiver went through your entire body at that - through your legs, your arms, your shoulders, through every single one of your fingers and toes. He knew just what he did to you when he said that.

He knew.

"Bradley", you moaned, unashamed now, the nerves in your veins long subsided, replaced once more by that all-consuming heat that you could never get enough of.

"Yeah, honey?", he asked. You could hear the grin on his lips. "What do you want?"

You let out a sort of sob that sounded pathetic even to your own ears. It wasn't that you minded begging. Because you didn't. You really didn't. But you had already done so, had already begged him miserably, had told him so prettily how you wanted him to fuck you. And he was starting all over again.

"Just once more, honey", Bradley whispered, dropping kisses to your spine, climbing higher and higher. "Tell me once more and you'll get whatever you want."

"Fuck me", you cried out, burying your face in the pillow, not letting even half a second pass by. Bradley always made good on his promises. And you needed him more than anything right now. "Please fuck me."

He was on you within a heartbeat.

One hand around your waist, pulling you into him, as the other one guided himself into you. He pushed into you in one smooth movement, pushed his hips right to yours, stretched you out like he hadn't in four goddamn months.

You were clenching around him, moaning his name, tears brimming in your eyes at the feeling of him again, finally. He was grunting, groaning behind you, his hands clasping around your waist as he settled deep inside you and let out a breath.

You hadn't felt so stretched out in so long. You hadn't felt him in so long. You needed more. You needed to feel more of him.

"Bradley", you whimpered. "Move."

His fingers dug even firmer into your sides. You bit down on your lip. He felt so good, so heavenly with his hands on your skin and his cock deep inside you, but you needed him to move, you needed him to move now, you needed him to fuck you and make you fall apart for him.

"Need a second, honey", he grunted, running his thumbs along your skin - along your new tattoo, just for this, just for him. "God, pretty girl, you're so tight. Missed you so much."

You whimpered underneath him, whimpered as you forced yourself to keep still for him, even as your thighs burned with the need to move, the need for more, the need to finally come undone around him. You knew you were close already. You could feel it, had been feeling it, dancing around the edges of your perception, melting in your blood, scorching in your stomach.

"Missed you too, Bradley", you moaned into the pillow, breathless and desperate for him. "Want to be good for you. So good."

"God, honey, you are", he groaned. "So good. Perfect."

And then he was moving, finally, and you let out a sobbed kind of prayer, your eyes falling shut, your fingers digging into the sheets as he thrust in and out of you in a slow, steady rhythm - enjoying the feeling of you around him, letting you enjoy the feeling of him inside you.

Just that you couldn't enjoy this.

You couldn't enjoy this because you were wound so tightly, wound so goddamn tightly that tears were pricking in your eyes, threatening to run down your cheeks and drop onto the covers. You needed him to make you fall apart, to make you come, you needed more. Just a little more.

You were teetering on the edge and he had you spiralling with how slowly he was fucking you. You needed him to send you over that edge, not build it higher and higher and higher up.

"Bradley", you whined, stumbling clumsily over his name as he ran a hand up your back. "More."

"Dunno if I can-" He broke off, his breath hitching, his fingers resting on your neck, brushing through your hair. "Fuck, honey, dunno if I can do more without coming."

You bit down on your lip at that, let out a moan so absolutely filthy that you were sure you would have been embarrassed of it if you'd had any more capacity to think - to think of anything other than him, anything other than how this god, who could fuck you for hours on end without tiring once, with so much stamina he could have you sobbing, coming for him four, five times on his cock alone, how this god was so desperate for you after four months that he was worried he'd come if he went any faster.

You were almost pushed over the edge just by that alone.

"I don't care", you cried, because you really didn't. "I don't need long, I need you. I'm so close."

Bradley grunted, his fingers brushing even higher up on your scalp.

"You're gonna be the death of me, honey", he muttered, just before he grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up onto your knees - into him, into his arms, your back flush to his chest. You dropped your head against his shoulder with a moan, let your eyes fall shut again.

He thrust up into you with vigor then, with more urgency, with less fear of coming undone, less fear of cutting this short. His hands smoothed over your sides, over your chest, holding you up against him, brushing along your breasts, along your stomach.

And all you could think was yes, this, this was it. This was what you had been imagining, what you had been picturing in a cold, lonesome bed every night, what you had been so desperate for.

His fingers trailed down your thigh, trailed up again, caught on your clit, drew a circle against that little bundle of nerves and you fell forward, doubled over, only held up by him, by his arms around you as you came undone, as you clenched around him.

Four months.

Four months and a tattoo.

And he hadn't even had you there for two minutes, had barely touched you, and now you were falling apart for him, lips parted, eyes squeezed shut, legs burning, fingers cramping. You'd waited four months for this.

You could feel him spilling inside you, noticed it somewhere dancing around the edges of your perception as you gasped for breath, tears stinging your cheeks and your nails digging into your own thighs.

This.

Him.

Bradley's finger had stilled on your clit. You blinked your eyes open, refocused on your green wallpaper, on the pictures, the old vintage polaroids of you and him right above the bed until you could see them all clearly again, until you could see them and realise what they were, until you could manage to tilt your head back and rest it, once more, against Bradley's shoulder. Until you had come back to reality again.

"I missed you so much, honey", he muttered into your ear, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss onto your exposed neck. "Missed this so much."

"Missed you so much too", you mumbled, reached for his hands. He pulled his finger from your clit, let you intertwine your hands with his, rested them carefully on your stomach. "Love you, Bradley."

He pressed another kiss to your neck, his lips warm, oh so warm on your skin, soft and warm and you needed him to kiss you now, to press his lips to yours.

"I love you too, honey", he whispered, halfway to brushing another kiss onto your skin when you turned your head, met his lips with your own, cut him off by surprise.

This was a weird angle, you had to strain your neck to even slot your lips together somewhat well and you were sloppy with it, too, your chest still heaving and your mind returning to clarity just now, but you didn't care, couldn't care, not when he'd just made you come, when he was holding you in his arms, when he was finally here, right behind you again, as though the last four months hadn't happened at all.

When you pulled back, you were feeling more normal again - as normal as you possibly could feel, with him behind you, with him inside you still.

"You got a tattoo", Bradley breathed, a grin dancing around the corners of his lips. You chuckled.

"Just for you", you nodded, brushing your fingertips up his arms, up to his elbows.

Bradley kissed you again, all parted lips and breathing into each other. You felt almost melancholic when he drew back. But he was smiling - and when he smiled, you had to smile too.

"I'm never letting you go again", he said, loosened his grip on you to trail his hands slowly, softly down your body, giving you enough time to steady yourself without him holding you up anymore. "And I'm not letting you leave this bed until the sun comes up, alright, pretty girl?"

You had to bite down on your lip to keep from grinning, anticipation already bubbling in your veins again. You knew he could make good on that promise. And that he probably would.

"Yes, please, Bradley", you muttered, already bending down again, splaying out your hands to catch yourself on the mattress as you showed him your tattoo again, just for him to see, just for him to touch. Just for him. "Whatever you want. As long as you want. I love you."

[readngandweepng]

polished this 2-week old wip i had (oops) of ftm daisuke and curly both being pillow riders.

MDNI gender neutral dom reader. this kinda sucks because im burnt out right now but i got some new motivation i reaally did not want to pass up on. very short.

you’d be sitting in front of him as he grinds into a pillow, his hands gripping the front of it for leverage.

daisuke would be in a hurry, trying to cum as soon as possible. you’d have to hold on to his hips to stop him, guiding him in a much slower pace that has him getting teary-eyed. he’s never been patient, not understanding the appeal of not having an orgasm when they feel so good, and you know that if you don’t stop him he’ll grind himself into one before you can even blink. 

the only clothing he has on is his uniform shirt, his impatience having got the best of him. his eyes are barely open, his attention focused entirely on the pillow he's trying his best to grind into. his clit barely catches onto it so he has to keep fixing his position before he finds the right spot. he's asking for you, begging for you to "just help him out a little." but before you know it he's found it, and to make it easier for him you hold onto his hips again, this time easing him into a gentle bounce. now he's moaning, his hands hold on to your shoulders for support before he's over the edge. and if you're really lucky, he may even be able to handle doing it one more time.

sometimes instead of a pillow, you can make daisuke ride you through your jeans. it makes him whiny. he’s too clumsy to do it properly, never quite being able to get enough friction or build up a satisfying orgasm on his own. he won’t be able to stop talking if you put your hand between you and his clit, thanking you and telling you how much he loves you as you grind the heel of your palm in sync with his desperate humping. he only quiets down when he finally cums, not having the energy (or the voice) to say any more.

curly is a lot shyer, and much more patient. you have to egg him on with encouraging words until he works up the confidence to add some flourish to his riding. he’s better at circling his hips and knowing when and where to bounce on the pillow to build up his pleasure. you don’t need to physically guide him, but the more praise and motivation you give him the quicker he gets to cumming.

he bites his lip, already his heart drums loudly in his ears. his hands run down his body to squeeze his thighs, and with his eyes shut he tries to pretend like it's you he's grinding against. the thought makes his hole flutter as he attempts to slowly drag his clit against the cushion. he lets himself have a couple bounces before he stops, his thighs closing around the pillow with finality as he waits.

he leans forward to kiss you until he starts grinding again. you give him more words of encouragement, and though by this point he doesn't really need them, your praise has his arousal skyrocketing anyway. he lets himself moan just loud enough that only you can hear them. the pillow brushes against his clit at a swift pace, and after his orgasm rushes over him his body slumps forward, his legs now too shaky to comfortably hold him up. you pull him into your arms, massaging his aching hands, and quietly into his ear you tell him just how well your captain curly did.

[ferrarrigirl]

i beg for some lando x reader where he is a girl dad!!!!!!! love ur work 🫶

Full House

Pairing: dad!Lando x mom!reader

Summary: Lando and reader with their 4 daughters, there’s always drama in the Norris household. Slight angst, mostly fluff.

A/N: Im so sorry this took forever to write but I hope you like it xx

You had just retired to your room after finally finishing up the last of your emails for today. Trying to sneak in a quick nap before the rest of the family gets home. Maybe you should’ve checked the time because just as you got comfortable, the front door unlocks downstairs, followed by Layla’s loud voice, “You just always have to take everything I want. Couldn’t this be the one thing you left for me?”

You immediately jumped out of bed heading for the stairs. As your racing down the steps, you hear the younger of the twins, Ava, retaliate, “I didn’t mean to Lay, it’s not my fault.”

Both girls turn to face you seeing you’ve reached the bottom step. “What is going on girls?” You question, deeply concerned with the anger laced in both their voices.

Layla’s first to reply, “Ask her Mom, ask her why she had to go after the one guy I liked.”

“I didn’t go after him, I don’t chase anyone” Ava seethes through gritted teeth.

“Oh cut the shit, you love having every guy’s attention. You should’ve left Jake alone!”

“Layla, stop,” you scold, noticing Ava’s patience is growing thin. That never ended well. Similar to her dad, it took a lot for her to get angry, but if she did, it wasn’t pretty.

“No Mom let her say what she has to. She’s just mad no one wants her.”

“Ava! That is not how you speak to your sister,” you move to step between them. “Let’s take a break and talk about this when you’ve both calmed down,” you offer.

“Fine by me, I never want to speak to her again,” Layla glares at Ava, turns on her heel and heads up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door, hard. You move to step towards Ava, in attempts to comfort her but she slips under your arm. “Please don’t defend her mom,” Ava sighs and heads up to her room as well. It’ll be best to try and get through to them later you think, especially with Lan. They always seem to more receptive hearing it from him. You turn to your younger babies, the less of the trouble makers. “How was both of yours days? Better I hope?”

“Oh yea mum the best, but I wanna catch up on some reading before dinner, is that okay?” 11 year old Amelia pleads, looking up at you through her beautiful green eyes. How could you deny that. “Of course you can bub” you say, pulling your bookworm baby into a hug. “I’ll come get you when dinners ready,” she smiles, padding up the stairs to her room aswell.

“Now you, my sweets, come here.” You crouch down to your 7 year old, knowing she gets very anxious whenever her older sisters argue. As expected, immediately she’s in your arms, almost throwing you back with the impact. You pick Charlotte up and move upstairs, asking her about her day to try and distract her. You take her to Lando’s office and settle into his gaming chair with her on your lap. It was always your comfort room, something about the darkness mixed with the led lights soothed you. She fills you in on the few things she learned today, but mostly all the games they played, while she snuggles further into you. You hated that she got the anxiety trait from you, so anything you could do to help her out, you would. Lucky for you, your voice worked well to relax her so you spoke to her about your day and felt her ease up.

“I’m home,” you smile hearing the front door open and close, followed by heavy footsteps moving quickly up the stairs. Char jumps off your lap, running out and straight into Lando’s arms. “Daddyyyy” she exclaims, presssing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. Lando follows where she came from, leading him to you sitting in his gaming chair. He furrows his brows, notificing your smile doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Are you okay babe?”

“Yea-“

“Lay and A had a big fight and they yelled and screamed at each other,” Char quickly spills.

“Oh sorry mummy,” she pouts seeing your gaze shift towards her. “Wanted to tell daddy so he can fix it.”

“That’s okay baby,” you stand, placing a kiss to her head. “Do you wanna go play with Amelia while me and daddy talk? We’ll grab to help cook dinner.”

Halfway through your sentence, she’s already jumping out of Lando’s arms and rushing out the door. “I’ll take that as a yes” you giggle while Lando engulfs you in his arms.

“Talk to me love” he mumbles against the skin of your neck, making sure to leave a few pecks. He stays like that, rocking you side to side as you unveil the events that led you here. It’s a lot to digest. And it’s never fun knowing your girls are fighting, especially if it’s over a boy, but you both know you need to get to the bottom of what happened.

“Hey” he pulls back and cups your face with a hand on each cheek. “They’re young, they’re siblings. They’re gonna fight. We can talk them both out of it.”

You were used to the twins fighting. They always bicker, but never like this. “I know Lan but you should’ve seen how they spoke to each other. Poor Char was frightened too.”

He pulls you back in for another hug, “Love, you know how sassy they can be. I’m sure once we speak to them, they’ll get over it just as quick.” he reassures rubbing you up and down your back.

“Fine but your talking to Layla,” you mumble into his chest.

You feel his chest rumble with laughter under your head. “Lucky me.” Pulling back he places a soft sweet kiss to your lips, grabs your hand pulling you in the direction of the twins rooms.

He goes first, knocking on Layla’s door. “Mom not now.”

“Not Mom, its Dad.”

Lando rolls his eyes hearing his eldest groan. He can imagine her dragging her feet towards the door. She opens the door the tiniest bit and rushes back into her bed, tucking herself into her multiple blankets. “I still don’t wanna talk. I’m only letting you in to know if you beat Uncle Los today.” Layla loved going to golf with her dad, the only one of the family that seemed to enjoy it, especially when her and Carlos would team up against Lando.

“Well I don’t want to talk about golf so I guess you won’t know.”

“Ughh stop being annoying dad,” she says, voice now muffled as she turns shoving her face into the pillow.

“Hey if you tell me, I’ll tell you.”

A moment of silence passes, he knows she wants to talk about it. Heck if with anyone it would be with him. She contemplates it, but shakes her head. “It’s embarrassing.”

‘Lay, there’s nothing you need to be embarrassed about with me. You can tell me anything.” Lando moves closer to sit by her, rubs her back up and down. “i won’t force you to talk, but I need you to know this is what me and your mom are here for. No judgement with us, ever.”

He stays like that, comforting Layla for a bit, and once he realizes she isn’t ready to talk yet, he moves to get up. But immediately she senses him leaving and turns back around. She looks up to her dad with tears flooding her eyes, “No one likes me dad.”

That’s all it took, and the tears started flowing. She moved into his arms and surely the silent cries turned into louder sobs. In the moment, Lando didn’t even know what to say. He felt like he did when the twins were younger and he’d always look to you to figure out why they were crying, but in this moment he knew it was all him. He began with hugging her back and reminding her she needs to stop crying or she won’t be able to breathe. She slowly pulled back and began explaining seeing the concerned look on her dad’s face.

“Jake is the only guy I’ve ever liked. And I thought he liked me back too.”

“Okay..” Lando swallows, not expecting her to be so blunt about boys, but he urges her to continue anyway.

“We got along really well, he was really nice and all of my friends even told me they knew he liked me. And then, today at school, infront of all us, he asked Ava out.”

“I see, what did Ava say?”

“She said no, obvs. But still. She gets every guy and she doesn’t even have to try. If Jake can’t even like me now, when we’ve been getting on for so much longer, then no one is ever going to like me.”

Lando’s starting to get it now. Being a twin in highschool surely can’t be easy. Especially when these years can have a great effect on your self esteem.

“Baby, you can not put your self worth into the hands of a boy. You are so beautiful inside and out, smart, and hilarious.” “And amazing at golf,” he emphasizes to bring a small smile to her face

“You are going to find someone that loves you for you, but that isn’t something you need to worry about yet. I know it’s hard seeing Ava have it different but it doesn’t make you any less better in any way.”

“It’s just not fair Dad.”

“I know bub, it might feel like that now but come next week, next month, you and no one else are going to remember this. And if that dumb boy can’t see everything amazing in my daughter, he isn’t someone I want for you and you shouldn’t want that for yourself either. I mean there will never be a boy good enough for my girls but this once isn’t even getting close.”

She lets out some more snotty giggles and reaches to hug Lando again. “Love you dad”

“ I love you more. Now, do you see how Ava is not at fault here?”

“Yeah I do. I guess in the heat of the moment it was easier to blame her.”

“I get that, but let’s try and have a breath before going at each other next time? You girls are lucky to have a built in best friend, never let a boy get in between you two.” Layla nods, feeling guilty about her behaviour earlier and realising she must’ve scared Charlotte, she asks “Is Char okay?”

“She is bub, don’t worry. Anything else you need?” Lando confirms, he didn’t want to impose and give her some alone time before dinner.

“No that’s it. Thank you Dad.”

“No problem sweets,” he reaches down placing a kiss to her head. “Go get up and shower, you’ve got snot everywhere,” he teases, moving to leave the room.

“Wait, so did you beat Los?”

“Nope, got absolutely destroyed.”

“Omg I have to text him,” she says breaking into a fit of laughter as Lando shakes his head and opens the door to head out. “Yeah yeah be down in 30 for dinner.”

He heads down the stairs, joining you in the kitchen. “How’d it go?” You inquire as he wraps his arms around your waist from behind and rests his head on your shoulder. “Good, she was just feeling a little insecure.”

“Ava was the same,” you inform. “She was upset Layla thought she would do it to her on purpose, but I told her she knew it wasn’t but was acting in the heat of the moment.”

“Mhmm,” Lando mumbles, placing a few kisses to your neck, “just glad we got through to them.” You both settle into each others warmth when you hear giggles filling the house. All 4 girls come tumbling down the stairs heading straight for you. Amelia and Ava immediately cling to Lando having not seen him today. They pull him away, fillling him in on their day, while Layla comes to you holding Charlotte in her arms.

“I’m sorry mum,” she pouts. You can see the guilt eating away at her, she was always a softie at heart.

“That’s okay my love, how are you feeling now?” You wrap your arms around the 2 girls, trying to provide her some reassurance.

“Much better, i apologized to Ava too. But I’m really sorry for causing a ruckus at home.”

“I’m proud of you baby. Do not let anyone get in your head and make you forget how special you are, especially not a boy.” You press a big kiss to her cheek, “I love you sweets.”

Before Layla can reply, Char is jumping out of her arms and into yours, “Me tooo mummy.” You giggle, reaching to grab her and move to the couch to join the rest of your family. You all cuddle under a large blanket and decide pizza and movies is how you’ll spend the rest of the night.

[mvltisstuff]

santa baby - e.b **

summary: christmas eve shenanigans by the tree

evan buckley x reader

smut!!

things sped up very quickly after athena’s christmas eve party. eventually, the candles burnt out and denny, along with other children, had to be tucked into bed before santa came tumbling on their roofs.

the innocence of the night was wearing off as buck stared at y/n in her tight red dress with the straight neckline. her arms were perfectly strung by her sides with the champagne glass in her hand. her rounded breasts were contoured by the golden lighting in athena’s room, and buck wanted to slap himself.

he hated feeling so turned on in the middle of a celebration for the holidays, but he couldn’t help but feel himself pushing against the fabric of his pants. the tingling sense in his stomach only grew when he saw y/n push her hair behind her shoulder, showing her sexy collarbones on which her long, gold necklace dangled over.

eddie’s sly comments were just faint sounds in bucks ear, teasing him for practically eye-fucking his girl from across the room. so, they were the next to leave.

buck had to stop himself from dragging her over the gearshift of his jeep and pulling her onto his lap. he wanted to feel the way her dress bunched up on her waist and then slowly peel it off her body as she begging for more.

“buck, slow down,” y/n asked, a slight chuckle in her voice looking at bucks white knuckles on the wheel. “it’s all fun and games until you get a ticket.”

“just wait til you see what im gonna do to you when we’re home. you’re gonna want me going faster.”

“oh.” y/n mumbled, shuffling in her seat, feeling the warmth in her lower stomach grow. she honestly thought buck was having a normal night, but she also knew what she was doing when she pulled that dress out of her closet. she slid her control center up on her phone, quickly turning on do not disturb for the night ahead of her.

he pulled frantically into the parking garage, running to her side of the door and grabbing her hand to pull her in.

“jesus, buck slow down!” she laughed. “you’re gonna rip my arm out of the socket.” she shut the door behind her quietly, noticing how late it was and not wanting to disturb anyone.

the moment she spun around, his hands were back on her sides, floating down her back and pushing his fingers into her ass. his lips were onto hers like a magnet, his soft kiss leaving stars in her mind. she could only faintly smell the whiskey on his lips, the one he sipped at while his dick was begging to be touched by her. he allowed her to fall into him, her hands touching the sides of his face and the back of his neck. he moved his legs quickly, pulling them into the living room. he sat her on the couch before sneakily scurrying away.

“what-“ she didn’t even have time to ask before he came back downstairs, his arms flooding with every pillow in the house. he slammed them onto the floor, right in front of the tree. “you do know we have a couch, right?”

“what’s the fun in that? c’mon,” he leans into her ear, his arms wrapping around her hips. “don’t lie and say you’ve never wanted me to fuck you under this tree?”

her mouth went slightly agape, shocked at his eagerness to please and the fantasies speeding through his head. “show me you’re not all talk then.”

he scooped her up, bending his knees to the ground and laying her on the pillows. he unstrapped her heels, throwing them across the room as she lay back against the cool, silky pillows. one of the straps of her dress was already sinking down her shoulder, practically begging buck to kiss all over her already. y/n propped herself up on her elbows, tugging at his shirt as he kissed her aggressively.

she felt his thick arms under the shirt, getting wetter just thinking about his muscles on top of her. buck placed his hands over y/n’s, leading them to the bottom of his shirt where she pulled it up, revealing his sexy figure and where his confidence rose. she just undid a few of the buttons on his pants before he couldn’t handle the wait. he stripped down completely, leaving his naked body to her view only.

it felt unfair for just him to be completely on display, and he only wanted to see her beautiful body in front of him. he started inching the dress up, leaning his body down to her thighs. he planted sweet kisses on her inner thighs, sucking and nipping at the skin. he eventually got to the point where the dress was on the floor, discarded somewhere with their other garments.

his large hands ran over her body, cupping her boobs and squeezing them lightly, in the most teasing way. he always knew how to get her where he wanted her, and he knew she was ready for him now. “shit.”

he placed a hand on her lower back, leaning her up to unhook her bra with one hand. he tossed it behind his head, earning a gentle giggle from y/n. he looked back rapidly, staring at her hardened nipples and bending down to connect his mouth.

his fingers were pinching and circling her left while his tongue worked on the right, getting the perfect amount of stimulation to get y/n all worked up. he loved to see the blush on her face, seeing her get all flustered and horny from his kisses. he sucked all around the skin on her tits, leaving small marks over her.

once he saw that she was fully content, he pecked a bit on her stomach, moving back to her inner thighs, just getting closer to her center. his fingers wrapped around the edge of her thong, pulling it down to fully reveal her wet pussy, the one that belonged to him.

“you’re actually the hottest person i’ve ever seen,” he said, connecting his eyes with her own as she smiled down at him. “just wanna taste you.”

his hands were placed on her knees, spreading her legs as far as they would go and settling himself in between. his fingers ran up her smoothly, the way they always do but make her feel ecstatic. he got his first moan as he circled his wet fingers around her clit, letting his fingers warm her up before his mouth was on her.

he licked and kissed at her lips as if they were just like her face, guiding the almost whimsical noises to leave her mouth. his arm was hooked under her thigh, his hand just by the top of her pubic bone. he lifted her up slightly to connect his lips to her clit, starting to suck again.

y/n’s hands reached down, lightly tugging at bucks growing hair in between her legs. she adored the way his hands were resting on her body as he ate her out and how lovingly he did it. he hit every spot that she needed to get off as she grinded on his tongue as it circled around her pussy.

as he kept licking at her favorite places, she came with a firework that left stars in her eyes and her chest heavy. her lungs filled with air, trying to catch up to the pleasurable feeling in her groin.

“buck!” y/n moans out. “god, buck i’m gonna cum.”

“cum for me, baby.” his deep voice vibrates against her cunt, instantly sparking up her entire body and leaving shocks throughout it. she clenched around nothing but the feeling of bucks mouth working her through her orgasm, her wetness being already around by his tongue.

when he finally released his hold on her legs and removed his mouth from her sensitive clit, buck pushed himself up onto his knees.

he connected his lips with hers once again, y/n now able to taste her sweet pussy on his lips. the way he treated her taste like an expensive wine just made it even better as he pushed his lips harder against hers. his tongue forced itself into her mouth, rocking against her own in a perfect rhythm. he used her mouth like he was starving, and he couldn’t help himself. the mix of her juices and her chapstick was the ultimate turn on, just making his dick grow harder.

“god, i wanna fuck you so bad.” buck groans, dragging his lips down her neck and sucking harshly on the skin.

“please fuck me already. i wanna feel you inside of me.” y/n begged, and buck could hear it in her voice how badly she wanted him.

y/n reached down, stroking bucks dick and pumping it a few times before leading it down to her pussy.

he ran his dick through her folds, collecting the mix of juices from her pussy and his own spit. the noises that she made as he grinded himself against here were heavenly, sounds that could turn him on faster than anything. the feeling of bucks body on top of her was unreal, almost like a dream. she reached up to grip his muscles as his hands moves down her waist.

he finally slid himself into her vagina, allowing himself to feel her tightness around his dick. he moaned out loudly, as if it were the first time he was ever in her. “holy shit, baby.” buck reached up through the pillows, taking y/n’s hands off her face. “don’t cover that pretty face.”

“you feel so fucking good.”

buck intwined his fingers with hers, bending her arms and pulling her hands up to the side of her head. he, in the most romantic way possible, rubbed her hands with his thumbs as he fucked her at the perfect place, hitting the amazing spots in her to make her moan out in pleasure.

he thrusted in her so hard, making her back arch off the pillows and making it difficult for her lungs to fill with air. the familiar sense started to creep up on her again, the bubble inside her threatening to burst.

“im so close, y/n, god,” buck groans out, not breaking the speed or rhythm of his thrusts. the only noises in the room were the wet sound of buck inside her and their practically synchronized moans of pleasure.

“you’re gonna make me cum, buck.”

“cum with me, baby, i got you.” buck continued to force himself into her, just the way she loves. he saw the way her face scrunched up and how her mouth dropped open with her blushed cheeks. the look in her eyes signaled how close she was, knowing they’d come together soon.

both of their legs shook as he came inside of her, spilling into her tight pussy. his thrusts slowed down, seeing his cum cover his dick and make a mess of her cunt. he leaned forward, shamelessly moaning into y/n’s ear as they both rode out their orgasms, using the other to their advantage.

“you’re so beautiful.” buck looks to the side, his nose lightly touching the side of y/n’s face before she tilts it.

“says you,” y/n winks, moaning again as buck pushes his fingers inside of her, attempting to clean the mess of juices and cum that they left. he pulls his hand up, letting y/n suck them and taste themselves mixed together.

buck rolls fully on his back, dragging y/n on top of him as she straddles him. “i love you so much.”

“i love you too, honey,” buck replies, kissing her lips again. “merry christmas, sexy.”

y/n laughs, gazing down at him and his goofy grin. “merry christmas, buck.”

“wait til you see what i got us for christmas.”

[yunsies]

SADIST. psh

pairings bf sunghoon x fmr 800 words warnings 18+ content (fingering) genre smut note wrote this when i was high out of my mind LOL enjoy

sunghoon pushes you into an empty bedroom, the noises of people scattered amongst the house of the party and the music fading out, leaving sunghoon to take compete control over your senses.

“should have stayed at home when we had the chance,” he mumbles against your lips, smudging your lipstick over your mouth with every rough movement of his lips. “should have stayed and let me fuck you in this fucking outfit. you look too hot.”

each of his words force you to get wetter the second they leave his mouth. sunghoon snakes a hand around your waist to support you as he continues pushing you further into the room until he reaches the bed and throws you down onto it.

“can’t we go home first?” i ask, looking up at him as he unbuckles his belt with one hand and a smirk plastered on his lips along with a faded tint of my lipstick.

sunghoon shakes his head, before leaning down to pepper kisses amongst your neck and up to your jaw, “you think i can wait that long, baby? you’re crazy.”

one of his hands keep your waist still, as the other rakes up and down your thighs and occasionally reaching into your inner thighs so he can dangerously inch closer to your core.

when he does this, your thighs instantly shut and rub together, earning a tut from him. opening your eyes that were previously clenched shut, sunghoon coos down at you evilly.

“don’t do that again,” he warns, pulling your thighs open again before continuing his movements.

“sunghoon,” you whine, placing a hand ontop of his.

sunghoon cocks an eyebrow at you, “what’s the matter, baby?”

his hand moves up to caress your cheek; he’s being so gentle, too gentle.

“fuck me,” you almost cry, to which sunghoon almost chuckles. he looks down at you, helping you take your dress off and not forgetting to press a kiss wherever he can to show just how pretty he finds you.

sunghoon lowers the dress off your body, discarding it onto the floor and returns to running a hand of his over your legs until it reaches the straps of your heels. sunghoon adores them, he almost kneeled when he saw you put them on just as you were going to leave for the party. he found the gold straps of them on your legs divine, amongst the rest of you, which is why he begged you to stay home with him tonight, so he could take care of you all night long and give you what you rightfully deserved. now that you were asking for it, being cruel to you seemed a better option.

“correct me if im wrong, baby. but, were you not the one who insisted on staying here at this party even though i had made it clear that i’d look after you at home? i said that i would treat you well, didn’t i?” sunghoon cups your cheek, caressing it before gripping it and forcing you to meet his dark eyes.

you nod, unable to form words when his gaze was so intense.

“use your words,” sunghoon sneers.

“yes, but i didn’t think i would get this needy.”

sunghoon chuckles lowly, “you didn’t? but you’re always this needy, baby. always so needy for my dick.”

he smiles, bending his neck to press a kiss on your lips, “don’t worry, i’ll give you what you want.”

a moment later, his hands dip underneath your lacy underwear that you undoubtedly wore just to get a reaction from him. it doesn’t take more than a swift movement for sunghoon to feel your wetness pooling at your core. he lets out a sharp hiss, collecting as much of it as he can with his fingers while your hips jolt upwards from the contact.

“so wet, every single time. i’ll never get tired of it,” he lifts his fingers out of your pussy to bring them to his mouth. he hums with a grin and tastes you, just like hes done countless of times.

“please,” you gasp out. “please, touch me again.”

it didn’t seem possible but sunghoons eyes darken even more, “as you please.”

with that, two fingers plunge into your pussy again, forcing them to stretch around him.

you yelp, it felt too good so quickly. sunghoons fingers fucked into you hard and quick as his thumb occasionally pressed against your clit.

“open your eyes and look at me,” sunghoon demanded, his low voice only making you needier. you opened your eyes to see him smirking above you, watching your face contort in pleasure.

sunghoon looked almost like a sadist, he knew his fingers weren’t going to bring you enough satisfaction as his dick; it wouldn’t ease your craving.

yet, he was prepared to make you cum on his fingers at least three times before he knew for sure that you were ready to be ruined by his dick.

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Cherry Pie Kiss

Slice Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You're cornered and chased by Bartholomew's minions. Separated from Sam and Cas, you and Dean make a run for it. Lust finds you both when you're finally safe. Dean rocks your world.

Words: 3.4k

A/N: This is smutty part 3 of what's now looking like a longer series since I've settled on a cute, fluffy and smutty part 4. At this point I don't think I'll ever be sated in my need for this man but Im so not sorry about it 😂

I do hope you enjoy part 3. If you haven't read parts 1 and 2 check out the Cherry Pie Kiss Masterlist. As always, I value your comments and feedback. Drop a dime and let me know what you think.

Warnings: Smut. Canon-typical action/adventure. Running for your lives. Bit of angst.

*** 18+ Minors Do Not Read or Interact ***

Dean Winchester.  You hate him.  His stubbornness and stoic grace.  His tenacity and faith that, no matter what, you guys will get it done if you stick together.  The way his eyes pierce you down to your soul when he stares.  At least that’s what you try to tell yourself, hoping that others will believe it too.  Truth is, you’re just as stubborn as he is, holding onto this façade when hatred is so far from what you feel.

Dean sits behind Baby’s wheel, having stormed away from the Gas’n’Sip in frustration.  His eyes follow your every move and your body language as you and Sam try to convince Cas, for the umpteenth time, to come with you.  Dean had taken it personally when Cas had refused, and after several attempts at reasoning, bargaining, and begging, Dean had given up, choosing to sit out any further attempts at persuasion.

You look over at the black Impala with its radiant chrome and glossy darkness.  The man inside looks away out to road not wanting the hurt, so plain on his face, to be seen.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” you say to Sam, touching his forearm gently as he continues to reason with the fallen Angel.

You feel compelled to at least try to comfort Dean.  Since you two had talked that night in the dingy room-only motel out in Crocker, you had maintained a stable yet strained connection.  You had still been pissed at him for using you and Sam as bait so you had sent him back to his room with another kiss and the promise of “when I’m ready”.  Since then, you two had never been alone for more than a few minutes; there was always Sam, or witnesses, or monsters.

Dean’s head snaps your way when you pull the door open, his face schooled into that smooth mask he wears when he’s hurt but unwilling to be vulnerable.  Cas’s decision has really hit him hard.

Sliding in the passenger side, you angle yourself towards him and reach to take one of his hands which is picking at the fingernails of his other.  Ordinarily, you wouldn’t risk such a gesture but with Sam a couple of hundred meters away and the height of the dash to obscure it, you’re not worried.

Dean allows the contact, his head hanging.  “Cas made his choice.”  His voice is low and gravelly with emotion.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t change his mind.”  You reason, trying not to throw fuel on the fire.

“He knows where I am if he does.”  He states, matter of fact.  “I’m not wasting another breath on him.”

“He’s your best friend.”

“You’re my best friend.”  Dean looks at you and squeezes your hand which is entwined with his, resting on his thigh.  “You and Sam.”

“I’m just some girl you want to fuck.”  You chuckle, and Deans lips quirk a subtle smirk briefly before he replies.

The words don’t come out, however.  Dean catches movement at the side of the Gas’N’Sip, and he drops your hand to turn over the engine, thrusting the heel of his other hand on Baby’s horn as he does so.

Sam and Cas look in your direction and then see the four figures walking quickly and with purpose, coming between them and the Impala.  Shit!  Angels.  Bartholomew’s minions, no doubt.  How have they found you again?

“Son of a bitch!”  Dean hisses, cranking the car into drive, kicking up stones in the gravel lot as the wheels spin, gaining traction to take you to Sam and Cas.

You fumble your seatbelt, sliding on the seat and right into Dean with a grunt as he swerves to avoid a blacked-out Escalade that grinds to a halt between you and your friends.

Sam and Cas are already on the move, running fast towards the gold Lincoln pimpmobile Cas had somehow acquired, Sam waving Dean off as they scramble into the car and peel out of the lot before the Angels could reach them.  You, however, are stuck.  With the Escalade and four fallen angels between you and the lot exit, Dean turns the wheel, locking it out and put his foot on the gas, spinning the car around with an horrific noise from the tyres.  At the back of the lot is a chainlink fence with a gate that leads to a dirt road which split in two, one branch heading to the highway, the other into scrubland that precedes a dense-looking woodland.  You can lose them in the trees.

Dean winces as he ploughs baby through the chainlink gate, lamenting the damage that is sure to be done, and turns the car towards the highway.

“We can lose them in the trees,” you cry, point to the woods.

“Baby doesn’t have the ground clearance for it,” Dean says roughly, manoeuvring the car through a side-on skid with the heel of his hand on the wheel and his other hand gripping the side of the seat to stop himself from sliding as the car spins.  Once straight, he slams his food on the gas and burns rubber onto the tarmac, heading in the opposite direction to Sam and Cas.

You know he’s right about the car.  The Escalade is 4x4 and sits high which gives it the advantage off road in the woods when the trail inevitably turns to a glorified hiking path.  You’re not even sure the highway is a much better option given that Baby is an older, classic car, but you know Dean keeps her in tip-top shape and she’s got a lot of power under her hood.  That being said, the Escalade could be seen in the rearview, weaving through traffic to catch up to you.

The shrill ring of your phone makes you jump as you try to focus on the road and on what’s behind.  You need to be a second set of eyes for Dean while he’s pushing Baby to create some distance from the Escalade.

“Hey, Sam!”  You sigh with relief, reading his name on your display, putting him on speaker.

“This is Castiel,” the former Angel’s flat tone carries from the phone.  “Sam is driving.  He said I’m too slow.”

You grin big.  That’s a classic Winchester brother thing to do.  From the corner of your eye you see Dean smirk.

“Just tell them we’re headed west and haven’t been followed.”  Sam sighed with mild frustration.

“Damn it’s good to hear your voice, Sammy!”  Dean spoke loudly in that extra deep tone he uses when he is running on adrenalin.  You know he left Cas out because he is still hurt, but you also know he’s glad Cas is safe too.

“We’re headed in the opposite direction,” you explain.  “The vehicle followed us and we’re trying to shake them but they’re keeping up.”

“Pretty soon we’ll run out of traffic, and on the open road we’ll never lose them.”  Dean frowns as he hunts in the rearview for your pursuers.

“Maybe you can head into the wilderness, hole up and set traps.”  Sam offers.  “We can turn around and try to catch up.”

“No!”  Dean snaps.  “You’re both safe.  I want you to stay that way.  Get someplace and lay low.  We’ll get this done and I’ll call you, ok?”

“Dean…”  Cas begins to speak but Dean is having none of it.

“I said No!  Okay?  For once, just do what I say.  We’ve got this.”

You hang up the phone without waiting for a response.  You can see how worked up Dean is, his brain running overtime as he tries to figure out a plan while he’s trying to evade Bartholomew’s lackies on a road full of other cars.

The satellite map on your phone shows a complex set of junctions several miles up ahead where this road meets and crosses with two interstates, branching off in multiple places to service a small city surrounded by a cluster of smaller towns.  It looks promising and Dean agrees.

The junction of the roads has raised on and off ramps that weave in and around the support structures of the main interstate, with frontage roads servicing the branches at intervals.  Traffic is heavy and Dean follows a newer model black Cady onto the interstate by one of the on-ramps, only to cut across the lanes harshly and slip onto a skewed off-ramp, hoping the Escalade will follow the newer Cady.  Slowing down at the end of the off-ramp, he turns to take the frontage road in the opposite direction, heading slowly up the on-ramp for the interstate carriage way going back in the direction from which you had come, so as not to rejoin too soon and be spotted on the other side.

You check all around as soon as you crest the on-ramp back onto the road, praying you don’t see the black government-style vehicle.  Dean doesn’t wait to find out, he puts his foot down and puts a few eighteen wheelers between you and whatever is behind you.

“I think we’re clear,” you say after about fifteen minutes of hypervigilance.

“Don’t jinx it, sweetheart.”  Dean keeps his eyes on the road, the wheel clasped in two white-knuckled fists.

Switching from the interstate to a smaller road and then to another road but still taking you away from where Sam and Cas had headed, Dean starts to relax.  He chances a look at you, to find you looking right back.  The tension in his neck and jaw haven’t melted away yet but he doesn’t have that hard look of focused fury that he usually does when in fight or flight mode.  He doesn’t say anything and neither do you, but the glances between you become more frequent as though you’re both checking on each other to make sure the other is okay, needing to visually check each time.

A sign by the side of the road identifies the beautiful landscape to your left as Black Water Natural Forest, and with the sun beginning to set behind the mountains in the distance, it seems a good place to wait out the sunset.  You point to the sign and Deans nods.  He doesn’t argue, knowing you need a place to park-up off road away from prying eyes to get your bearings and make a plan to meet up with your friends.

As the road gets narrower and the trees get more dense, Dean slows the car, casting furtive glances at you.  It’s making your skin burn, the way he looks at you now, with that hunger in his eyes.  You feel it too.  Weeks of tension built between you, and todays threat to your lives now culminating in a deep need for some kind of release.  You lick your lips, breathing shallow and quick as you try to regain your composure, but Dean isn’t doing much better.  You look at him fully and he all but moans when he sees the look in your eye.

A turn off presents itself that leads to a small muddy lot where hikers can park their cars when they venture out into the forest.  Dean brings Baby to a stop so hard your seatbelt catches you, then he yanks it into park and fumbles for the seal lever.  You unclip your belt as the front seat slides back fully and he reaches for you, helping you straddle his lap.

You waste no time, kissing him fervently as you unbutton your shirt while he tries to push it from your shoulders before it’s open.  Breaths are gasps released between kisses, tongues touching, tasting and tempting more passion, and you succumb to the frenzy of heat that’s born of your need to feel something other than fear.  Your need to feel him.

You’re both a mess of fumbling hands and sloppy kisses as clothes are shucked and skin exposed.  You try to stand, your legs either side of his as you unbutton your jeans and he unclasps his belt.

The loud sound of the Impala’s horn echoes out amongst the trees, startling birds so they take wing and both of you into stillness and silence.

Dean looks at you with panic but then grins and laughs, reaching to tug your jeans down your legs until they’re bunched up around your boots.

It’s awkward but you can still straddle him like this and, as you kneel back onto the black leather seat, he lifts his hips to grind himself impatiently against you.  The desperation in your eyes is matched by the eagerness in his.  He is rapt, eyes absorbing the sights and sounds of your body and of your pleasure as you grind yourself against him.  Your slicked pussy drenching his cock as you slide yourself along his length but deny him entry just when his tip catches at your entrance.

Dean fondles your breasts, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your skin until he reaches your hardening peaks.  His kisses become more suckling then, nibbling them and flicking them firmly with his tongue until you’re almost shaking above him.

“You ready for me?”  You ask, breathless.

“Sweetheart,” he treats you to his classic sultry smirk, “I’ve been ready for you since you moved in.”

You grin, knowing he’s been jonesing for you for that long.  Truth be told, you’d wanted him for longer but the hate you made yourself feel for him was an adequate distraction from it.

Biting your lip, you reach between you, taking his wet shaft in hand and positioning it at your entrance.  Your eyes meet as you begin to skink down on him, inching down in a shallow rocking motion with Dean stroking your hips and waist as you work at it.  He resists the urge to thrust up into you at first, allowing you to get accustomed to him.

When you bottom him out, he presses down on your hips firmly, lifting his just enough to give you a deep pleasurable pressure that has you groaning and your eyes rolling back.

You are tight despite being very wet, and the way you squeeze him has him twitching heavily against your walls.

“Fuck…”  he groans as you begin to move, leaning back slightly so he hits all the right spots inside you.

“I’m not going to last long,” you laugh breathily.

“No problem,” Dean says, his hands gripping your hips hard, helping you ride him a little faster now.  “We’ll get you for two.”

He doesn’t even have to reach down to stroke your clit, you come all by yourself, grinding on him with a sexy roll of your hips he knows should be good for you, your clit rubbing against his soft hair.  He can feel you spasming and clenching around him and it feels like heaven, even better than warm cherry pie hitting his taste buds.

“You feel freaking amazing.”  He growls, pulling you forward to suckle on the delicate skin of your neck.

“Right back at’cha,” you sigh against pleasure.

He rolls you to the side, and lays you on your back on the seat, still buried in you to the hilt.  Looking down at your heated face, your skin glowing from your orgasm, Dean thinks you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, with a possible exception of Baby.  Okay, you’re the most beautiful living thing he’s ever seen.

Looking up at Dean, his brow creased in concentration, his eyes dark with lust, you don’t think you have ever been turned on by anyone as much as this man.  Damn, he’s hot!  Riding the adrenaline of the chase, you had been desperate for an outlet.  Now that is out of your mind, you lose yourself in the man between your thighs, you’re focused solely on the feeling of him buried deep, and the rising tide of pleasure.  The windows steam up as you grind and roll your bodies together, and you think you might combust from the heat of him.

When he meets and holds your gaze, your heart almost stops.  There you see more than just lust, more than just the passion between you.  It’s deep and hidden, secret almost, and it surfaces as affection that softens his eyes.  You reach up to stroke his face as his grinding hips keep their measured pace and he leans into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand, closing his eyes with a tender sigh.

His vulnerability in that moment lances electricity to your core and you spasm powerfully around him.  His eyes flash open and he sees you’re close again but he doesn’t grin cockily like he might have done earlier, instead he leans down to kiss you, leaning his forehead on yours as you grip the back of his neck and look into his gorgeous eyes.  With your other hand on his hip, sliding round to his ass you guide the speed and depth of his thrusts and you roll your hips to meet his.

As you guide him to slow down he thinks he’ll lose the pleasure he’s cultivated so far but he can now feel more of you and it’s more intense because it’s slow and prolonged.  He almost laughs at how it changes everything and he gasps with surprise when he starts to feel his orgasm coming.  He knows he needs to pull out but you hold him on place with your hands and your heels.

“Give me everything,” you moan as you feel him swell.  “I need to feel you, nice and deep.”

Dean groans with pleasure watching your eyes sparkle with heat for him.

“I want it,” you almost beg.  “Want you.”

He nods, biting his lip as bends to your desire.

Spurred on by your permission, Dean thrusts deeper until he bottoms out, moaning your name as he comes deep inside you.  Your walls contract as he fills you, your climax a deep rolling pleasure that courses your whole body.  Everything feels so right, he feels right.  The way you two fit, the way he makes you feel.  It’s like a low-key destiny you’re more than willing to succumb to.

Dean doesn’t just pull out and get off you once you’re both done, he flips you so your lay on his chest.  There he holds you and strokes you back and hips, your hair and your face until you lift your head to look at him.  Then he smirks cockily and you swat his chest.

“You don’t have to look so smug about it,” you chastise him.

“Hey, I keep my promises,” he says with that trademark smirk playing on his plush lips.  “Would’a give you more but we’re kinda on the run here, sweetheart.”

“You can owe me, how ‘bout that?”  You push yourself up and try to find your clothes.

He grins at the confirmation that this isn’t just a one-time deal.  “Hell yeah!  Sign me up.”

You clean up with wipes from your travel bag as Dean calls Sam.  You watch the relieved interaction from the front fender of Baby while Dean paces in the dirt a few meters away.  You apply some flavoured lip balm to your kiss bruised lips as he works out the logistics of meeting up and what to do about Bartholomew.

After the call, Dean beelines straight for you, sliding his hands around your waist and burying his face in your neck, kissing playfully.

“I take it we’ve got a few hours at least until we can meet Sam and Cas.”  You thread your fingers through his messy hair, trailing your fingernails over his scalp which he seems to really like.

“Several.”  He says against your delicate skin.

“Whatever are we gonna do to pass the time?”  You smile as you picture the pair of you fucking all over his car.

“I can think of a few things,” he surfaces with a hungry look, leaning back in to kiss you.

Your soft lips claim his once more as you melt into his arms, the kiss heated and full of need.  Dean kisses you with such force it steals your breath and makes your knees weak, and when he pulls back he looks at you thoughtfully.  Licking his lips and tasting you on them, he grins.

“Cherry,” his eyes go to your lips again, “I like it.”

Dean’s talented tongue makes you forget any quip you might have said, as he lifts you onto Baby’s hood and keeps his promise.

[aliaology]

(SHORT) RUN FOR THE HILLS.

SUMMARY: being exes with jack hughes was hard because you both keep running back to each other when instead you should be running for the hills.

PAIRINGS: jack hughes x fem!reader

WARNINGS: mentions/allusions to sex, alcohol, semi-toxic jack, not proofread

the very feeling of jacks teeth grazing your skin was something you could never shake. the way his lips would trail sloppy kisses from your lips to your ankles. the way he would treat you like a goddess in bed. you saw stars every single time he fucked you.

you loved the feeling of his hands gripping your hair, pushing you down further as your mouth took all of him. the groans he’d release from his lips as you took him so easily.

“god you’re fucking perfect.” — “you’re a fucking dream.”

you didn’t know what turned you on more, his sounds, or his praise.

his hands ran through your hair as his lips bruised yours. mouths clashing together in a rough way as his free hand roamed your body. the way he touched you made you feel so special.

oh jack was the devil in disguise, but you were so hooked to him. it was like you were attached to a rope, and when you went to far, you were pulled right back. unfortunately— his love wasn’t always good.

the screaming matches you’d break out into, sometimes resulted in you forcing him to sleep at nico’s apartment or even lukes. you’d even lock the door the moment he stepped out.

but the main component in your fights, was him not letting you go. you knew very well you two were not meant to be. at least, not now. but he didn’t seem to want to accept it, even if you are just a fuck to him.

he keeps you around, ultimately teasing you. but fuck— the way he feels as your leg rests on his shoulder was a feeling you didn’t want to let go of.

“shit— shit shit— fuck”

yeah, it was addicting. sparks littered your skin as his fingers trailed all over your body. his head rested between your head and shoulder, right in the crook of your neck as you both came down from your highZ

the sound of heavy breathing was what broke the silence. your chest rose up and down, hitting jacks as he breathed as well. his lips softly kissed your neck before trailing against your skin and up to your jaw.

“you were fucking made for me.” he groaned lightly against your skin. his lips pressed right to yours as you opened your mouth to respond. tongue diving straight inside. you hummed against him.

this wasn’t good. the words, his touch. oh no, not good at all. you knew you were still head over heels for him, but it would get to the point you were obsessive— possessive. you couldn’t get enough and you only want him to be yours. you couldn’t think of him with another girl without having to down a bottle of beer— or three.

but why go through such a toxic relationship again? why go around, worrying jack was fucking another girl when on a roadie. unsurprisingly enough, you do that and you aren’t even dating him.

“one more round baby, please?” he spoke, a whine to his tone as he looked down at you. “i know you can— please baby.”

one more round, one full of pleasure and noise. oh how pretty he sounded as your name flooded through his mouth over and over again.

“please— please, please” he whined softly into your ear, begging for your hands to be on his body. you’d never say no to that.

“lock the door on your way out”

im unable to tag everyone!

TAGS: @slaythehousebootsdown13 , @lxnceclercs s , @honethatty12 , @outrunangelss , @absolutelyhugh3s , @hockeyboysarehot , @lovinbarzal , @shadowsndaisies , @um-mads , @bqbylon , @whoreforthehughesbrothers , @Robloxlover2007 , @p3nislawd , @alexx-stancati , @queenmendes , @-eedwardss , @if-my-heart-bleeds , @love-like-woaah , @freds-slut , @sleepybesson , @love4lando , @equallyshaw , @bellstwd , @ivy-34 , @slafgoalskybaby , @hischierxx , @dancerbailey3 , @jackhughesily , @cstads-blog , @ru-kru , @sbrn0905 , @love4ldr , @loveforaugust ,

[celestiamour]

I saw that you said your asks are open so, what kind on kinks do you think Cassandra Nova has?

ft. cassandra nova x f! reader — marvel

╰₊✧ kinks i think she would have┊0.9k words

contains: smut!! dom cass & sub reader┊look at the warnings for the short version & the keep reading for details, master/pet dynamic, dollification, power imbalance, bratting/brat-taming, dacryphilia, overstim/edging, bondage & blindfolds, corruption kink, dumbification, exhibitonism, marking

➤ author's note: OOHHOO IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED ANON, I THINK SHES A FREAk

this is just a list of the major ones, but i’m a firm believer that she’s open to trying anything at least once as long as you’re open to trying them out with her!

━━━ .°˖✧ master/pet & dollification ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ she is the one who rules the void, the empress who you’ll inevitably work for if you want to survive, of course, she would love to have a pretty little thing like you at her knees to spoil while running the land. someone as adorable as you would be much more useful entertaining her and keeping her company rather than acting as one of her minions, and you’re more than happy to be the eye candy she keeps by her side who eagerly answers to her every beck and call with a bright smile. the power imbalance with you is different than the ones with her minions, more intoxicatingly dizzy knowing she has complete and utter control over you.

╰₊✧ as a reward, she likes to pamper you with all the fine things she could get her hands on: feeding you fruits and sweets, dressing you up in lace skirts, tying ribbons into your hairs, maybe even applying rose tints on your lips— most of the nice things that are impossible to find or cultivate in this wasteland are presented to her, but she always ends up gifting them to you since she has no other use for such opulence aside from spoiling her pet.

━━━ .°˖✧ bratting/brat-taming & dacryphilia ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ despite how much she loves to indulge you in luxury when you’re good for her, she also loves it when you give her a bit of a challenge even though it all ends the same way with you whimpering out an apology under her. she’ll tie you up so tightly that you could hardly even squirm with a blindfold as she either overstimulates or edges you until you cry, choking out whiny little sorries with tears streaking down your face. the contrast between how you were just pouting and digging your heels into the ground a few minutes ago versus now when you’re begging for relief and moaning her name like a prayer is such a turn-on for her.

╰₊✧ possibly an unpopular opinion, but i don’t think her sadistic and apathetic personality would apply here. yes, she likes seeing you cry, but only from pleasure and not from pain. there’s a safe word in place in case it’s too much for you, and she listens to you about what you like and don’t like. 

━━━ .°˖✧ corruption kink & dumbification ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ she likes being your first, whether it’s the first person you’ve been intimate with, the first time you’ve had such a mind-blowing orgasm, the first time you tried out a kink which quickly became your favorite— she believes it makes her more memorable to you, but let’s be honest, it’s impossible to forget a woman as extraordinary as her. slowly, you’ll find yourself being more depraved and more needy after your first time together, begging for her attention so sweetly just as she planned. it sounds wrong to be purposely tainting your innocence, but it’s not like it was something that was going to stay for very long if you wanted to maintain this relationship.

╰₊✧ after a while, you start thinking with your pussy more than your brain since you’re so understimulated with how busy cassandra can be and her refusal to let you get your hands dirty. reading the same books, watching poor-quality noir dramas on a barely working television, and playing with yourself in an attempt to achieve the same effect she had could only entertain you so much. when she finally comes back to you, she always fucks the boredom out of you until your eyes are rolling back and you can’t think about anything but the buzzing euphoria. she loves how dumb you go on her fingers or mouth and can’t say anything aside from useless little mewls and she coos that it’s okay and she’s got you. 

━━━ .°˖✧ exhibitonism & marking ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ of course, when you’re always by her side and dolled up like a princess, it’s inevitable for there to be some wandering gazes which are more leering than anything. although she knows you only have eyes for her and that none of them could take care of you like she did, she’s a possessive person. what’s hers is hers and she would like to keep it that way (what’s theirs is also hers, that’s just how it works around here). 

╰₊✧ to prevent anyone from getting any ideas, she’ll leave hickeys all along your neck and upper chest to show that you’re taken (she’ll even go as far as to have her name tattooed on your skin if you’re okay with it). also has a tendency to have sex with you in places where she knows other people will hear you screaming her name over and over again, you don’t know about this because you’re more shy and your try to muffle yourself if you did, but she’s shameless about her sex life and very proud to be the one fucking the prettiest girl in the void.

╰₊✧ (also, if anyone had the gall to flirt with you or something and she found out, best believe that they are going to be doing the most tediously difficult tasks available. or worse, she can be very creative with punishments.)

[ssturniolo]

Can’t (II)

|| pt.1 || pt.2 ||

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤 - Chris x fem!reader

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶 - you realize breaking up was not the best option.

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 - swearing, kissing, I hope that’s it, it’s late rn and I’m delirious.

It’s been two months since you broke up with Chris. Two long horrible months. You thought breaking up with him would improve your mental health, and while the hate has died down immensely, you feel like a piece of you is missing.

Even before you started dating Chris he was always there. He could always comfort you, make you laugh, and he had a way of making you feel like the only girl in the world. But now that he’s gone, you constantly feel empty and alone, even when surrounded by many people you love.

But what could you do? You were the one that broke up with him in the first place. You couldn’t just come crawling back.

Since the breakup, you’ve gotten pretty bad at keeping a consistent schedule. Eating at random times of the day or even forgetting to eat, skipping showers, and spending most of your time curled up on your bed.

With all of that, you haven’t gone to the grocery store in forever, and decided to stop at Starbucks for a quick coffee run, as you didn’t feel like going to the store to get more.

Pulling up to the nearest Starbucks, you groan, seeing the drive through closed.

“Great, just great” you mumble to yourself. You hadn’t planned on having to actually be seen today, considering you’re wearing sweatpants and a hoodie with your hair thrown up in a messy bun, and you haven’t showered in a couple days.

Sighing, you get out of your car, heading towards the Starbucks entrance.

Besides a dirty look from one of the workers, ordering went smoothly.

Waiting for your drink, you scroll through instagram absent mindedly, when a certain name pulls you right out of your thoughts.

Nicolas sturniolo

“Oh shit” you mutter under your breath, your head snapping up just to lock eyes with a brown haired boy. Chris.

Moving your gaze to the barista, you silently beg her to call your name so you can get out of there. But it’s too late. Your eyes widen slightly as you watch Nick walk towards you, a smile plastered to his face.

“Y/n!” He calls happily.

Giving him a weak smile your eyes dart past him, watching as Matt, Chris, and Madi approach behind him.

You’d been so caught up thinking about missing Chris these past two months, you hadn’t even thought about how you completely cut contact with the rest of your friends.

“Hey guys” you reply, giving Nick an awkward side hug. Now feeling self conscious in your messy fit under their gaze, you take a step back, basically shrinking into yourself.

“Oh shit this is awkward” Nick points out, glancing between you and Chris.

Not sure what to do, you simply stand and watch as Nick ushers Matt and Madi away. Turning back to Chris, you give him a tight lipped smile, heat creeping up your neck.

“So, how’ve you been? Did the hate die down?” He asks, rocking on his heels.

Y/n y/l/n

“Oh, um… yeah it did” you say, walking over to grab your drink.

“Im sorry Chris, I really can’t do this right now” you let out before he can continue the conversation.

And with that, you turned on your heels, swiftly speed-walking out the doors to your car. You rest your head on the steering wheel as regret flows through you.

“I fucked up.”

***time skip to that night***

Flopping down on your couch, exhausted, you sigh. You had just deep cleaned your entire house, before taking a very needed long, hot, shower.

Just as you get comfortable, your doorbell rings, startling you.

You let out a frustrated sigh, glancing down at your phone to see it’s already 1:00 am. Who would come at this time?

You peek you head out the door, to be met with a clearly nervous Chris. Opening the door further so he can come in, you watch as he tensely walks through, playing with his fingers.

“What’s wrong?” You questioned, confused as to why he’d come to you for something.

Deciding to cut straight to the point, Chris rests his hands on your shoulders lightly.

“Y/n, I’m still in love with you” he starts, surveying your face for a reaction.

With no response from you, he continues.

“From the moment you walked out of my room, I’ve felt incomplete” he continues, moving a hand up to brush a lock of hair out of your face.

“I understand if you don-” he starts before you cut him off, smashing your lips against his.

Immediately melting into you, he moves one hand down to your waist, the other resting on your cheek. Your lips moving in sync, molding perfectly together, he pulls you impossibly closer.

After what seems like an eternity, you pull away to catch your breath, both of you breathing heavily.

“I’m so sorry for breaking up with you over something so stupid” you whisper, resting your head on his shoulder.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. I should’ve helped find a better solution instead of telling you to ignore it. Your mental health IS important to me and I want you to know that.” He expressed, drawing patterns on the small of your back.

Lifting your head off his shoulder, you smile shyly. “So we’re even?”

“Yeah, we’re even” he reply’s, a small laugh escaping his lips.

Wrapping you into a hug, he smiles against your hair. “I’ve missed this, I’ve missed us.”

“Same” you mumble, pressing a kiss to his jaw.

Everything’s going to be ok.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

This took WAY too long to write 😭. I hope y’all enjoy and I hope this makes sense bc Istg I’m so tired I can’t see straight.

XOXO - Zoe

[jusst-you-race]

oh re:pinned post you know im gonna ask for a carcar prompt... -wiz

if not vibing with that, dealer's choice with the word "mouth" maybe? lol

okay so I know you asked for carcar but I threw lando in there too because I couldn’t help myself… so here is a little borderline smutty carlandoscar thing

“Do you ever stop running your mouth?”

It’s something Oscar’s said to Lando before, but the soft, fond tone is gone when it’s directed at Carlos. It's icy cold, bordering on mean, sharp words only blunted where they’re muffled by Lando’s collarbones, where Oscar is currently biting.

Carlos scoffs from where he’s trying to work Lando’s pants off.

“You are liking me running my mouth.” He gestures at the obvious bulge tenting the front of Oscar’s shorts. “Don’t pretend otherwise.”

Oscar’s eyes turn flinty, but Lando runs a hand through his hair affectionately and he settles back into marking up every inch of skin hidden by clothing. Lando tries not to laugh at how much more possessive Oscar is with Carlos here. Carlos presses his hand to where Lando is so hard he’s almost leaking into his underwear and Lando can’t help but whine at the pressure. Carlos practically growls in response.

“You like that, no? You are so hard and eager for us, Lando.”

Lando pants as Carlos grinds the heel of his hand down.

“Carlos…” he breathes. Oscar bites him. Lando grins.

“We are going to ruin you Lando.” Carlos continues talking, clearly unaware of the little exchange. “But that is what you wanted, is it not? That is why you begged me to join you, no? One cock is not enough for you. You are greedy.”

Oscar rolls his eyes.

“You sound like a bad porno.”

Carlos’s head snaps up, nostrils flaring.

“I do not hear you coming up with anything better.”

Oscar smirks, the corners of his mouth curling up like a cat.

“I think you come up with enough for both of us.”

Carlos lunges, and for a second Lando worries they’re about to start fighting, but instead they collide in a kiss that looks like it’s all teeth. Oscar is caught off guard for a second, before he presses back into the kiss, winding his hands into Carlos’s thick hair and pulling. Carlos groans and draws away from the kiss, panting. For a moment they just look at each other, gazes burning. Lando doesn’t move. Then they both lean back in, bridging the gap between them where Lando is lying.

He watches them from below, and if he wasn’t already turned on to the point of leaking then he certainly is now. Carlos takes Oscar’s lip between his teeth and tugs, and Oscar grunts in response. It’s the hottest thing Lando has ever seen, and he’s almost embarrassed by the loud moan that spills from his lips.

Oscar and Carlos both startle as if they’ve forgotten he’s there. Oscar blinks, and then gives Lando a smile that’s somewhere between sheepish and indulgent. Carlos continues to look at Oscar, an intense expression on his face.

“Sorry,” Oscar murmurs, absently stroking his thumb across Lando’s skin. “We were ignoring you.”

Lando shakes his head.

“No, no it’s fine. It was uh… it was really hot actually.”

Oscar’s smile turns sharp.

“Yeah? You like seeing me and Carlos together?”

Lando huffs. Carlos is still watching Oscar.

“Why d’you think I suggested this? The angry sexual tension thing you two do kind of does it for me.”

Oscar’s eyebrows go up like he’d never considered this. His gaze flicks over Lando’s face, considering. Lando can feel his cheeks heat in response to being examined in that way that Oscar does. Carlos tracks the movement of Oscar’s mouth. Eventually Oscar speaks.

“Well. You just lie there and look pretty then, if you want.” Oscar looks back at Carlos, his cool gaze meeting Carlos’s blazing one. “I’m sure Chili and I can entertain ourselves.”

Carlos frowns at the nickname and Lando knows it’s exactly the response Oscar wanted. Oscar plants a painfully tender kiss on Lando’s forehead and leans down to whisper in his ear.

“Be good and watch me ruin him.”

Lando moans embarrassingly loudly again. He nods so aggressively he thinks he might give himself a headache.

Oscar turns back to Carlos.

[secretivemessenger]

long time no see... 🫣

Sugarbaby!BtmZhongli x ProviderTop!MR

Now everybody and they mfing mama know zhongli broke asf 😒..

but the past few days he's been "working" with you he's begun to grow some affection. You specifically told him not to catch feelings and what does he do? catch fucking feelings. Good thing you don't know that...or maybe you do and you're just not saying anything? Maybe you're waiting for a chance to humiliate him? He wouldn't be mad if you did.

he pondered and pondered, going insane from the thought that you might reject him. Anytime he'd see you walking the streets of Liyue he'd immediately walk the other direction, just hoping you didn't see him. Too bad the feeling of desperation eventually came up to him and he was left touch starved, so he thought of the most reasonble solution.

pathetically ask for Mora because he totally did not spend it all on random shit so he could have his sweet moments with you.

TWS!

Spanking, Impact play, humiliation, begging, deep throat, gagging, ect.

I have a feeling a fangic like this had already been made but I much prefer to see you write it

Failed Contract

Bottom zhongli x top male reader

Rating: NSFW

warnings: Friends w benefits! Unrequited love! Mean reader! Deep throating! Face fucking! Spanking! Orgasm denial! Multiple orgasms! Fingering! Angst at the end?!

Author note: ahem- so uh… i know this took sooooo long to come out 😀 so long like more than three months. Im sorry 😭 but is just that I never had the motivation to do it but now i do (somehow).

Kinda hate this ngl-

The moment this all began, the both of you agreed on one thing thats considered as a part of the “terms and conditions”. And that was, don’t catch feelings. do and this is all over. - These were your very own words.

He thought it would got smoothly for him. Getting the money from you in exchange to you using his body however you like, then you’ll just continue to live on your life like it never even happened. And he never worried about “catching feelings” or such.

He took this a bit too lightly for his own good. After spending more time with you without even realizing it, he was head over heels for you.

And so he broke the only rule you had set for him. He knows if you found out this would all be over, but he doesn’t want that. He still wants you, he still wants to feel your hands on him. Even if he knows he shouldn’t be feeling this was, he still want his heart to continue beating for you. But he’s sure as hell you don’t feel the same. And he knows that it would only end badly if you were to find out.

So the only logical option is for him to distant himself. Because he knows how bad he is at holding himself back when near you.

Well spoilers: that did not work. It only resulted in him being more desperate then he ever was. It felt like torture away from you, and you didn’t approach him first and it made him even more desperate.

Till he said “Fuck it” and hurriedly went running looking for you. He just wants to be near you and held by you, even if it’s only you holding his legs up to give yourself better access inside him.

Once he found you he knew exactly whats the magic word that he had to say. “Got any mora to spare?”. Per your agreement, if he wanted money he had to satisfy you first.

Without a word you went back to your house with zhongli following behind like a little puppy. Upon reaching the house and closing the door he didn’t waste a singular second and sat down on his knees mouth wide open waiting for you to do however you please.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the obvious desperation in his eyes. Along side the adorable desperate eyes is an eager one, wanting to please and be pleased already.

Saliva dripped down his opened mouth, with his tongue sticking out. You always found the shape of his tongue so fascinating. it was paler than normal human tongue and much more longer. You can already imagine how it would feel like around you.

You pressed your index to the surface of his tongue. observing his reaction as you moved your fingers deeper, tracing his tongue as you made your way down his throat.

He looked so majestic. Slowly gagging at your fingers invading his mouth, almost at the verge of tears. You made his body twitch needly because of the way you looked down at him. Almost like he was some type of a dessert, and you were ready to eat him whole.

Soon the desperation turned to arousal which turned to greed. He wanted more of you rather than just fingers, even if he didn’t say it directly you can see it deep down his eyes. He wanted to be messed up, so why deny him?.

You wasted no time in undoing your pant, already half hard. The sight of your cock always made his mouth water and eyes shine with lust. Wanting you inside of him sooner rather than later.

Slowly guiding him to take you in his mouth. His tongue wrapped around your cock hungrily. His oh so warm mouth, it made you pant loudly. “Amazing as always” you said it with a hint of amusement in your tone of voice. You grunted while throwing your head back, it felt fucking incredible. His tongue working your cock so good, throat so tight around you “such a good boy, doing so good for me”.

Zhongli felt his whole body shiver and shake at you words, it brought him to tears how much of an effect you have on him.

Yes he’s a good boy only for you <3

He just wants to continue being good for you, he wants to be the source of your pleasure. If he can’t have your love, he’ll be enough with being able to make you cum because of him.

He continued teasing your tip with the back of his throat, while tracing the veins with his tongue. By time it became even harder to hold back, if this continued you’ll just burst completely. Even so you didn’t pull out instead you pushed his head impossibly more deeper, putting up a tight grip on his hair. It made him let out an adorable whimper as tears streamed down his face, it just left you in “aww”.

As you fucked his throat like a little toy you noticed his body reacting to your thrusts. His body arched so beautifully all of a sudden. Soon your confused sound turned to hysterical laughter. Looking down you can see a large spot on his pants.

He just came inside his pants. Why? Just because you acted a bit roughly with him. How funny for none other than the geo archon to cum all over himself like a virgin.

“If i knew fucking your throat is all it takes to make you like this I would’ve done this sooner”. Soon your laughter came down to a stop. “But i don’t remember giving you the permission to cum”.

Zhongli’s embarrassment disappeared once he heard your words. Grabbing his hair and roughly pulling him away from your cock made him whine in pain. “You better Handle the consequences of your own actions, Morax”

You almost ripped his clothes apart from how rough you handled him. It made him gasp loud in surprise. Stripping him naked, you harshly pushed his head against the wooden door. Looking at his quivering body turned you on even more. His thighs covered in his own fluid from a while ago.

His ass too clear to your liking. You raised your hands just to bring it back again on his ass, his body jolted in surprise. he let out a choked out cry as your hand’s smacked his ass again and again, until you felt satisfied enough. The clear skin now had obvious handprints on it. His face couldn’t look more fucked up than it is now.

Swallowing his moans. He looked back at you with beginning eyes as he huffed out in between hiccups “please, do it already”. Spanking was a good punishment, but you still wanted to bully him a bit more.

“Do what? You know I can’t read minds” you said with a wide mischievous smile on your face. It would usually make him so embarrassed, but now he was so desperate to have you inside of him that he lost all the self dignity that he had. He does not care anymore about how shameful it is to beg, he just wants you so so bad.

“Please, i want you inside of me” he cried out “please pleaseplease, pleasseee”. You wanted to laugh at his pathetic pleadings. But the way your cock twitched at the sight. It felt impossible to hold back anymore. Yet you still somehow did it.

Due to avoiding you for quite sometime means thats his hole is absolutely not stretched enough to handle you yet. And You weren’t ‘that’ mean to just ram inside of him without preparations.

So you spat on his hole before using your fingers to spread it all around his rim. A mixture of ‘please’ and whines of your name escaped his mouth.

A loud yelp was what you received when your fingers went past his rim. Determined to stretch him well enough that you can fuck him for continuous hours without stopping.

One finger became two, two fingers became three which soon turned to four. Four fingers stuffing him full. He would’ve came so many times if it wasn’t for your other hand squeezing his tip. Denying any droplet of cum to escape. Which left zhongli a breathless crying mess. Until you deemed him ready.

You didn’t have much energy to tease him or hold back anymore, so you took your chance and rammed your cock all the way hitting his prostate first try.

With that singular thrust he came all over himself, painting the brown door white “Hah, you came just because i put it in? Thats pathetic of you morax” you teased him which resulted in his face becoming full of shame as it dusted dark pink. But it didn’t last long till you started railing him hard again.

You could swear everyone is hearing you two right now from how loud zhongli was being. Moaning out like a needy slut. Screaming your name so loud you actually suspect he’s doing it to show off how much of a whore he is for you.

Going in and out at a fast pace, hitting his prostate with every thrust you make made it all more pleasurable. And from the overstimulation he went through when you denied him his orgasm multiple times made him extra sensitive. And it didn’t take him long for him to cum all over himself again and again, till he can no longer cum anymore.

Chasing your own orgasm. You wrapped your hands around his tummy going in slow and deep, just to feel every part of his warm hole around you.

You both were in such intimate position that it almost made him forget that your weren’t actually together. You were connected together but it still wasn’t what he wanted.

“You like me don’t you” a confused ‘huh’ was let out by zhongli. He looked back at you confused, then that confusion turned to a terrified expression. You never stopped your movements, still fucking into him.

He couldn’t think of a word to say as you kept your steady motion. Before you grunted and pulled out. Jerking yourself off just to cum with a loud sigh. Painting both his back and ass with your cum.

Once you were done his leg’s finally gave up on him and he fell down to the floor. He didn’t know what to say so you talked instead of him.

“As the god of contacts, to break one of the rules of the contract must be a huge sin, eh” silence was what you received so you continued “as per contract, since the only rule was broken. The contract is cancelled.”

“Take this last session as a parting gift” you said as you turned to leave before remembering “oh and have your portion” you said as you threw a bag filled with mora his way. “Never see me again” was all you said before leaving zhongli who’s seated down on the floor being as speechless as a rock.

He was just dumbfounded that he got thrown away like that, thrown away like nothing but a cheap expired toy.

“This was all just a big mistake”

🏷️: @gaybitchfx @vyloy

[reds-writings]

i love your blog more than i’ve loved anything on earth before.. can you maybe write something about 1995 rust and reader working a late night together and taking an awkward and romantically charged truck ride to the bar together?? oh im a fool for some good old yearning. hope you’re doing well i love what ya do

ahhh! thank you so much! i too love some good ol' yearning so i whipped some up quick! enjoy, darlin! (this takes place in the middle of the first of many and the start of something new and jj)

“We oughta call it a night.” Your voice rang out in the empty space of the precinct. It had to be bordering nine thirty and your body was begging for release from your hunched-over position, having been pouring over a surplus of articles for the past couple of hours. The slope of Rust’s shoulders jerked slightly as if forgetting where he was or that you had decided to hang back with him in the first place.

“Time is it?” He rumbled out, using the heel of his palm to rub at a tired eye. 

“9:37. You good to drop me off still?” You replied after a quick glance at your wrist. Your truck was still in the shop but you couldn’t complain much if it meant being around Rust a little extra. 

“Don’t worry about it. Sleep decides when it wants to find me. Even then it never really takes hold.” The casual admittance threaded with his perplexing way of describing what troubles him would never fail to bewilder you. 

“Well…if you ain’t sleepin’ anytime soon could you be persuaded to stop for a drink on the way back? My treat.” 

Rust had the humor to snort, a sharp and haughty sound, “If the company you keep makes a lady pay then they’re shit.” 

“The company I keep mostly nowadays consists of Marty and the feral cat taking up residence in my yard every now and then.” 

“Therein lies the problem.”

‘He likes to be spoiled. What can you do.” You shrugged playfully while beginning to gather your things. 

“The cat or Marty?” That finally made you shoot out a laugh and he squashed down the distant desire to preen at your amusement. 

Not fun outside of parties. Fuck you, Marty. 

“We’ll grab a drink or two.” He relinquished. You pumped a fist in the air in a small celebration of victory with a hushed hiss of a ‘yes!’ The day was long and you could use a beer paired with the continued company of the wiry enigma. 

As you mosied over to his truck and hopped in you batted your lashes in what dramatic fashion you could muster through your fatigue, “Free drinks and the voluntary companionship of Mr. Cohle? Gee, did I strike lucky-”

“I don't recall sayin' free.” He lit a cigarette with one hand and began to steer out of the lot with the other. It was concerning how such a mundane act could start to get you all hot and bothered. 

“With you stickin' your nose in my business about what friends I do and don’t have they became free, I believe there was the implication of mighty disdain towards makin’ a lady pay.” A dainty finger wagged in his direction.

“I wasn’t aware I was in the presence of a lady-” The swat of your quick hand at his arm served as an interruption to his bullshitting. He was funny. When he wanted to be. Maybe not hardly ever but sometimes the mood struck whenever the stars decided to align just right. You thought it foolish to think the odds were specifically in your favor during moments like these but seeing him even a little bit at ease couldn’t hold you back from running right into the arms of said foolishness itself. Marty would dub you delusional. He could also kiss your ass.

Plain and simple.

“Because of your outright boorishness, I will be demanding some top-shelf finery tonight.” You half-sassed while he blew smoke from his sloped nose at your theatrics. The way you could go from suppressed and professional to the feisty spitfire sitting beside him now would soon throw him on his ass sooner than preferred. His liability to stop it was growing weaker with each car ride despite everything in his mind screaming to bring it to a severe halt. He wanted you far away from him but wanted you in constant proximity a hairsbreadth more.

“Low shelf. Maybe.”

“Top or bust. Consider it initiation as my new form of company. Just how it goes, friend.” You jokingly admonished and it was considered final.

Friend. He detested the warmth that took siege over his being.

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Hello)) Blame this on my grandma, I watched too many soap operas with her growing and we still do it 😂

So basically 2022 James x younger reader maybe she was his sponsor after he got out of rehab after 2019 relapse and she stayed him him during the pandemic (let’s pretend he divorced earlier than 2022, im not a home wrecker) and obviously it evolved into romance. Since he got vasectomy, they kinda weren’t very careful with protection, but it’s actually proven that these can fail, so she finds out she’s pregnant. Of course he doesn’t believe her and thinks she cheated and demands a DNA test. Having no options and feeling betrayed by his behavior, she moves out and they do a tests a few months later. Of course it comes back confirming he’s the father, but she also sends him something like NDA saying that she will never file for child support and will not disclose him as the father + the note that she doesn’t want to do anything with him as he betrayed her by accusing her of cheating. So the moment they have a break in tour he comes to beg for forgiveness? It takes her a while but she finds the strength to forgive him? And then she even joins them on tour and even goes to labour at the end of one of their shows (that’s actually happened with one of the fans)

Damn those TV shows did make sure my fantasies run wild 🫢

Don’t worry, how many times watching a series I made a lot of mental films (and it’s better not to know them🤭) I hope you will like it!❤

A New Beginning

I could still hear the echo of the accusations in my head, ringing louder than the sound of the tour buses or the distant crowds that gathered for Metallica’s show tonight. “You cheated, didn’t you? You couldn’t have gotten pregnant by me… it’s impossible!”

I closed my eyes, trying to suppress the flood of hurt that still rose in my chest every time I thought about it. I’d never cheated, never given him a reason to doubt me. I had stood by him through his darkest moments, through rehab, through the pandemic lockdowns when the world felt like it was falling apart. I gave him my heart, my love, my everything. And in return, he gave me distrust.

The memory of how we met flickered in my mind like an old film reel—those early days, before the weight of fame and fear crushed us under its heel.

I had been his sponsor after his 2019 relapse. A fresh face among the older, battle-worn members of the program, I hadn’t expected to be assigned to someone like James. I still remember that first meeting—how he slouched into the room, the weight of the world on his shoulders, his eyes distant, almost lifeless. His tattoos were visible beneath the sleeve of his worn-out leather jacket, and his hands trembled slightly as he held a paper cup of coffee, more like a shield than a drink.

He was a legend, a rock god, someone I had grown up listening to, but none of that mattered in that room. There, he was just another man struggling to find his way back from the brink.

I had introduced myself, unsure of how someone like me could even begin to help someone like him. But as the days passed, we found an unexpected rhythm. He was raw, real, and unfiltered, and I wasn’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit when he tried to downplay his struggles.

“You’re not invincible, you know,” I had told him once during one of our private sessions, my arms crossed as I stared at him down. He had tried to laugh it off, but I didn’t let him. “You might be James Hetfield to the world, but in here? You’re just another person trying to get better. And if you want this to work, you’re going to have to face the hard stuff.”

To my surprise, instead of pushing back, he had listened. Really listened. And slowly, over time, the walls he had built around himself started to crumble. We spent hours talking, not just about his addiction, but about life, music, and everything in between. I saw glimpses of the man beneath the rock star, the man who had been buried under years of fame and pressure.

The pandemic hit not long after, and somehow, through all the uncertainty and isolation, we grew closer. What started as a professional relationship morphed into something else—something deeper, more intimate. The nights were long, filled with shared stories and quiet moments where it felt like we were the only two people left in the world. And somewhere in the midst of it all, I fell in love with him.

He was still broken in so many ways, but I loved him for it. I thought I could help him heal. I thought I could be the one to put him back together.

But I hadn’t expected him to break me in the process.

Now, months later, here I was, sitting alone in the apartment I had moved into after his betrayal. The DNA test had proved him wrong, of course. The baby was his. But that didn’t matter. Not anymore.

I absentmindedly placed a hand on my growing belly, feeling the flutter of movement beneath my fingertips. A bitter smile tugged at my lips. He knew now, without a doubt, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about what he thought. I had sent him the NDA weeks ago, making it clear I didn’t want anything from him. No child support. No public acknowledgment. Nothing. It was his choice to betray me, to accuse me of something so vile, and I would never forget that.

A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I hesitated for a moment, not expecting anyone. Slowly, I stood, heart racing for reasons I couldn’t quite place, and opened the door.

It was him.

James stood there, looking more worn out than I had ever seen him. His eyes were puffy, as if he hadn’t slept well for days, and his shoulders were hunched, weighed down by regret. His gaze met mine, and for the first time in months, I saw something I hadn’t expected—tears. He blinked them away quickly, but not before one slid down his cheek.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, keeping my voice steady even though my emotions were anything but.

He shifted nervously, his hands clenching and unclenching by his sides. “Can I come in?”

I wanted to slam the door in his face. I wanted to tell him to leave and never come back, but a part of me—a small, treacherous part—still longed for the man I had once loved, the man I had thought he was before everything went to hell. So, against my better judgment, I stepped aside and let him in.

The silence that settled between us was heavy, oppressive. I crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for him to speak, to explain why he was here after everything he had done.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice rough and low. “I’m so sorry.”

I didn’t respond. What was there to say? Sorry wasn’t going to erase the hurt or make up for the months of pain I’d gone through because of his accusations.

“I was scared,” he continued, taking a hesitant step toward me. “I didn’t want to believe it because… I didn’t think I deserved it. You, the baby… any of it. I thought it was too good to be true, and I freaked out. I messed up. I know I did.”

“Damn right, you did,” I snapped, my emotions finally bubbling over. “I gave you everything, James. I stood by you when no one else did, and the second I needed you, you turned your back on me. You accused me of cheating—like I was some random groupie. Do you have any idea how that felt?”

His eyes dropped to the floor, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I know. I know, and I hate myself for it. I was wrong. You didn’t deserve that.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

He looked up at me, his eyes brimming with emotion. “I want to make things right. I can’t take back what I said, but I want to be there for you—for the baby. Please… I can’t lose you.”

For a long moment, I just stared at him, the weight of his words hanging in the air. His lips trembled, his hands shaking as they reached out for me, and that’s when I saw it—more tears. They fell silently, streaking down his face, and it shook me to my core. James Hetfield, the man who never showed vulnerability, was standing in front of me, broken and pleading.

“You already lost me,” I whispered, feeling my heart crack all over again. “The moment you accused me, you lost me.”

He took another step closer, his hands reaching for mine but stopping short when I didn’t move. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving that I’m sorry, that I love you.”

I blinked back the tears that threatened to spill over, torn between the love I still felt for him and the pain he had caused. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice breaking. “But I’m not giving up. I’m going to fight for you, for us. I love you. I always have.”

The vulnerability in his voice, the raw emotion, broke something in me. For the first time in months, I saw the man I had fallen in love with, the man who had been buried beneath his fears and insecurities.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

James nodded, his eyes glistening. “I’ll earn it back. I promise.”

We stood there, both of us broken and scarred, but maybe—just maybe—there was a chance to heal. I wasn’t ready to forgive him, not yet. But as I looked into his eyes, I realized I wasn’t ready to walk away either.

___________________________________________________________

Months had passed since that heart-wrenching conversation, and though the pain hadn’t entirely vanished, we had started to rebuild—piece by fragile piece. James and I had taken things slow. He had apologized countless times, not only with words but with his actions, showing up for every doctor’s appointment, staying by my side during the hardest days of pregnancy, and fighting to earn back the trust he had shattered.

By the time the band’s tour kicked off, I had grown more comfortable with the idea of us—tentatively agreeing to join him for a few weeks. There was something cathartic about seeing him on stage, in his element, pouring his heart into the music. It was the same passion I had fallen for, the raw energy that made him who he was.

That night, the crowd roared as the band played their set. I stood backstage, watching James from behind the curtain. The energy of the performance was electrifying, but as the night wore on, I felt an unusual pressure in my belly. It started out mild, but soon a sharp pain gripped me. I pressed a hand to my stomach, my breathing becoming shallow.

I knew what it was. The baby was coming.

Another wave of pain surged, and I leaned against the wall, trying to steady myself, but it was no use. My knees buckled slightly, and panic flared in my chest. No, not now, not during the concert!

I winced, unable to call out over the blaring music and the chaos of the backstage area. The crew was bustling around, completely unaware of my situation. My vision blurred, but I managed to catch the eye of a stagehand nearby, my voice barely a whisper as I gasped, “Get… James…”

Her eyes widened in alarm when she saw the state I was in. Without hesitation, she rushed off, navigating through the flurry of activity until she reached the side of the stage. She tapped on the shoulder of the band’s tour manager, urgently pointing toward me, and within moments, a message was relayed to James over the in-ear monitors.

It didn’t take long. Within seconds, James glanced toward the side of the stage, his expression shifting from focused to alarmed. The guitar in his hands stilled mid-song, and the rest of the band kept playing as he tore off his in-ear monitors, rushing offstage toward me.

By the time he reached me, another contraction hit. I was clutching my stomach, struggling to breathe.

“The baby’s coming,” I managed to say between breaths, my voice weak. “Now.”

James’ face went pale. “Oh God, okay, okay… we need to get you to the hospital.”

He quickly helped me up, supporting me as I leaned on him, and together we moved through the maze of equipment and crew members. The sirens wailed in the distance as we made our way to the ambulance parked outside.

Once inside, James squeezed my hand tightly, his brow furrowed in worry. “You’re going to be okay. I’m right here,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, but I could hear the tremor beneath it.

The drive to the hospital felt like an eternity, each contraction more intense than the last. James stayed focused on me, whispering encouraging words, but I could see the tears welling up in his eyes.

Finally, we arrived at the hospital, and I was rushed into the delivery room. The world outside faded as I focused on the task at hand, the pain consuming me but accompanied by James' steady presence.

 

After what felt like hours, the moment finally arrived. The cries of our baby filled the room, and I looked at James, who stood by my side, tears streaming down his face.

 James leaned down to press a soft kiss to my forehead, the weight of the past finally began to lift. The room was filled with the soft coos of our newborn daughter, and in that moment, I felt a warmth spreading through me—a mixture of hope and love that I had thought lost forever.

“Can you believe we made her?” James asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he glanced down at our daughter, who was peacefully nestled in my arms.

I smiled, my heart swelling with emotion. “She’s perfect.”

“Just like her mom,” he said, looking back at me with eyes full of adoration. There was a sincerity in his gaze that sent shivers down my spine, a reminder of everything we had been through together.

He gently reached for our daughter, and I carefully transferred her into his arms. The moment our baby was in his embrace, his expression softened, transforming into one of sheer wonder. He gazed down at her as if he had just been handed the greatest treasure in the world.

“Look at her,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “She has your smile.”

I watched as James became utterly enchanted, rocking her softly as if to soothe a restless heart. “But those eyes,” he continued, his breath catching in his throat, “she has my eyes.”

I leaned closer, gazing at our daughter, and my heart swelled with love as I saw the truth in his words. “You’re right. She has your eyes,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “And your spirit, I can tell already.”

James grinned, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I can’t believe I get to be her dad,” he said, emotion pouring from him. “I promise to always be here for you, for both of you. I want to build a future—a real future—with you.”

A thrill of excitement raced through me. “Really? You mean that?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, looking up at me, his gaze steady and sincere. “I’ve learned so much about myself, about us. I won’t let fear or mistakes dictate our lives anymore. I want to be a family, to share every moment with you.”

As he continued to cradle our daughter, a soft smile spread across his face. “I can’t wait to teach her about music, to show her the world,” he said, his voice filled with warmth. “I want to be the dad who’s always there, who shows up to every recital, every birthday. I want her to know she’s loved.”

My heart raced at his words, overwhelmed by the love radiating from him. “I want that too,” I said, feeling tears of joy prick at my eyes. “I want to share everything—the good and the bad.”

James took my hands in his, his grip warm and reassuring. “Then let’s do it together. One step at a time.”

As he leaned in, our foreheads touched, and the world around us faded into a soft blur. In that moment, everything felt right. We were two people, imperfect yet wholly devoted to each other, standing on the brink of a new chapter.

“I love you, James,” I breathed, feeling a sense of peace enveloping me.

“I love you too,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “Always.”

With a renewed sense of hope for our future, we shared a tender kiss, the promise of a beautiful life ahead lingering in the air.

As he continued to cradle our daughter, he looked down at her with a mixture of awe and determination. “You’re going to be so loved,” he said, his voice a gentle whisper. “And we’re going to take care of each other, always.”

Together, we would face whatever came next—hand in hand, heart to heart, as a family.

[myosotisa]

mercy - e.m.

Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

‖ summary: It always goes the exact same way. Always has been, always will be. But he never stops hoping. Hoping that maybe this time... Maybe you'll finally choose him.

‖ tags: smut, minors dni, angsty smut, sad ending, infidelity/cheating, affair, unrequited love. slight 'sir' kink, oral f receiving, fingering, unprotected p in v, doggy style, spanking, degradation kink, creampie. its really angsty smut thats literally it. i wrote it all at once and im not editing it ok thanks

‖ inspiration: mercy - couros remix

‖ word count: 2.1k

--

It's something that I do for the fun of it I enjoy being the fool Mess me up, be cruel Something that I do for the fun of it Make me beg, make me beg Don't ever show me no mercy

"Eddie," your voice pours out of your throat as a whine, head thrown back as your hips roll gently against his own.

You're on his lap again. Skirt pushed up to your hips, fingers twisted in the shoulders of his shirt. He doesn't know how it happened again as his hands sit high on your hips, a respectful touch, and tries to ignore how the blood rushes south as you grind.

The war in his mind rages on as if the ending is not already written. As if the battle doesn't always end the same way, as if every little twitch and every little noise you make doesn't feel like a battering ram. As if he hasn't already lost the moment your leg swings over his lap, the moment his name leaves your lips.

Your head returns to center and he sees the want there. The heave of your chest, nipples already peaked beneath the fabric, the warmth of your skin visible as the blood rushes beneath. The depth of your pupils as they dilate further just at the sight of him.

"Eds, please," comes your whimpered plea. And he is helpless to resist.

Hands trace down, over your hips, the bunched up fabric of your little skirt that you wore on purpose, to the plush skin of your thighs. "What do you need, baby?" He asks, knowing the answer won't be what he wishes it was.

You dip forward to mush the tip of your nose against his, lips hovering as the roll of your hips stutters in its rhythm. "Need you, Eddie." Tries to ignore the twist in the pit of his stomach as his heart thumps uncomfortably in his chest.

"Yeah?" His hands push up slowly, palms flat to your skin and thumbs dipped toward the sensitive flesh in-between. Goosebumps rise beneath them as they trail fire up and down but never close enough to where you want him. "How do you need me, princess?"

A shudder runs down your spine as your eyelids flutter, a sharp gasp felt as you inhale so close to his lips. You've always liked the way he talks to you, have told him 100 times, and he uses that knowledge to please you. He just wants to please you.

"Want it rough," you murmur, pressing even closer so your lips brush his as you speak. "Want you to be mean to me."

He tries to ignore how his cock twitches in his pants and how your hips instinctually press down for more. One of his hands skates high, slipping between the two of you and cupping the heat between your legs. Your mouth falls open, breath puffing hot against his mouth as he palms the fabric covering your hot cunt, listening to the catch of your breath when he presses the tip of his finger in where the fabric is soaked the most. Another soft moan falls from you, your eyebrows pitching up as your eyes pinch closed.

You're so beautiful like this, he thinks. You're beautiful all the time but there's something ethereal about how your face contorts in pleasure. Pleasure at your touch, the shadows cooes, coaxing him in.

His tone drops with a bob of his Adams apple. "Go lay down on the bed, panties and shirt off. Skirt stays on."

You perk up immediately, a happy smile lighting up your face as you push yourself off of him and to your feet. "Yes, sir," you purr, twisting on your heel so your skirt lifts enough to show the crease of your ass cheek before you flounce down the hall with a swing in your hips.

Eddie rubs his sweaty palms along the fabric covering his thighs. His dick is absolutely throbbing in his pants but he just needs a second. To collect himself. To make sure he's ready to do what you want him to do, be what you want him to be. He just wants to be what you want him to be.

When he walks into his room, you're just as he asked. Left bare in only your short skirt, knees bent and spread wide as you present your glistening pussy to him. Begging him to take it, to take you.

He dives in with abandon, sinks into the role. He presses two fingers into you as you hiss at the stretch, laving his tongue across your clit to distract you from the burn. He buries his face in your pussy until it's hard to breathe, flicking his tongue across the swollen bundle of nerves before sucking it between his lips just to make your back arch off the bed. Sweet noises fly from you as he slowly thrusts his fingers into your tight hole, curling them up until he finds the spot that makes you gasp and your thighs tremble against his ears.

His tongue laps at you while his fingers press in until your hand grips his hair tight, holding him in place as you grind your hips up onto his face. He murmurs praise against your throbbing clit as you take what you want, as you use him for your own pleasure. He coaxes the first orgasm out of you with his mouth and his fingers as easy as breathing. Well versed in how best to make you fall apart by now.

When you convulse around his fingers, he lifts his lips from your clit, mouth dipping down to where his fingers continue to draw the moans from your throat, licking around where they press to drink in your slick. Doesn't let a single drop go to waste as it leaves you in rivulets each time his fingers pull a little bit out just to push back in. He licks across his own knuckles, the tip of his tongue running along the quivering muscle that draws his fingers in, even dipping down to chase a drip that slides toward your ass. 

He doesn't stop until you're whimpering, hand pushing at his forehead limply, until the drink pitters out to almost nothing. "Eddie, please," you whimper again, nails scratching against his scalp.

"Yeah, baby?" He asks, and there's a little bit too much love in his tone, a little bit too much devotion. He presses kisses along your quivering thighs and hopes you don't notice.

"Need you to fuck me, need it so bad, please Eddie-"

He shushes you, crawling up your body and pausing to nip the delicate skin of your breasts. "I've got you, baby, gonna take care of you."

His shirt is pulled over his head and discarded who knows where. Pants hastily undone and pushed off along with boxers. Then he's gripping your hips, flipping you over and pulling you up onto your knees as you squeal. He wedges himself between your calves, eyes locked on the swollen lips of your cunt as your hole clenches in anticipation. 

She wants it rough, the shadow purrs, wants you to ruin her.

And he's helpless to resist.

The moment he presses inside you, you're letting out a high pitched moan into his pillows, hips pushing back to try to take more of him, get him deeper. His hands tremble on your hips as he grips them, eyebrows pinched tight together and lips parted as he tries to reign himself in. He doesn't want this to be over too fast, doesn't want to disappoint. If you left disappointed, you might never come back.

He shifts his hips back and presses forward hard, using his grip on your hips to pull your ass back to slap against his pelvis. A harsh gasp hits his ears as he sets into a punishing pace, assisting you in the rock back against it as you silently beg for even more. The skin between his fingers bulges out from how hard he's gripping you, your breaths leaving you in hiccups each time he drives his cock home.

"You're so big, Eddie," you keen, the side of your face pressed against his pillows. "Feels so fucking good."

"I know, baby, your pussy is fuckin' squeezing me." He groans low in his throat, the shadow pushing forward, filtering into the light in his eyes. "Does he ever fuck you like this? He ever give you what you need like I do?"

A high pitched moan echoes into the room along with skin slapping skin, your walls fluttering around him. "No, Eddie!"

A harsh slap against the curve of your ass has your back arching, while he tries to ignore that twist in his gut that accompanies the idea of hurting you. She wants it like this.

"No, what?" He barks, hips pistoning in and out of you as fast as he's capable of.

"No, Eddie, no one fucks me like you do," your voice is a borderline cry down, the eye he can see peaking with water. "No one makes me feel like you do."

"Damn right," the shadow rejoices, expanding and growing as he slides a hand to your front and circles a fingertip against your clit in reward. You pitch forward, not sure if you want more or less, but he grips tight to keep you right where he wants you. "You gonna cum, baby? Gonna cum all over me?"

"Y-yes! I'm gonna cum, you're gonna make me - oh fuck - Eddie!"

He sets his thrusts shallower, only pulling out an inch before rolling his hips forward again, pelvis grinding against you. "Come on princess, give it to me. Be a good girl and milk my cock."

Your orgasms are always a loud thing and he relishes in it. His name pours from your lips over and over and over again like it’s the only word you know as your cunt clenches desperately around him. It's almost hard to keep fucking into you with how hard your muscles grip him, like your pussy never wants him to leave. He never wants to leave either.

After easing you through it, circling your clit and rolling his hips until the tension in your muscles fades and gives way to jellied limbs, he presses in hard again, chasing his own release. It doesn’t take long, he’s been holding back since the first moment you moaned his name. “Where do you want it, baby?”

“Inside,” you sigh immediately, fingers twisting in the sheets. “Want you to fill me up.”

“Oh yeah? Want me to fill you up with my cum, send you back home to him with it still dripping out of you?”

Your cunt convulses again, another high pitched moan leaving your lips. “Yeah, Eds, want it so bad. Want your cum inside me, please please pleasepleasepleas-”

His orgasm is a less fantastical thing. Quieter, weaker. His hands shake and his body trembles as his cock jerks inside of you, pressing deep as his cum spills out of him, a quiet whine in the back of his throat as he shakes. He softly thrusts once, twice more before he stills, a shuddering sigh leaving him as his tense muscles finally begin to relax.

You whine as he slips his softening cock out of you, using his grip on your hips to ease you down onto the bed. He collapses beside you, one arm draped over the small of your back as you both lay face down on the sheets and try to catch your breath.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Doesn’t pull you into him like he so desperately wants to do, wrap himself around your body from behind and never let go. Doesn’t press kisses along your shoulders, trail fingers up and down your spine just to feel you shiver and break out in goosebumps again. Doesn’t do anything to break the moment, break the spell, because he knows what comes after.

Here in his bed, here in the afterglow, you’re his. Just his. You want him and he wants you. He satisfied you, gave you what you asked for. He pretends like it’s enough for everything to work out the way he wants it to this time.

Maybe next time he’ll be strong enough to resist when you swing your way onto his lap. But he knows he won’t be. He’ll always take whatever you’re willing to give him and never ask for more.

Having you and getting hurt is better than never having you at all. So he can make peace with this.

-

-

-

-

thanks for reading! please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it and i hope you have a good day/night!