#its about the butterfingers- | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

eustasskidagenda · 1 year ago

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anon asked: Hi! Jumping into your ask box to continue the 'afraid of having sex' series. Still with a female reader and the exact same prompt. But this time, with Usopp & Sabo because they are underrated. And also with Ace, Shanks and Mihawk. We need the whole cast with this headcanon! Ty and anon <3

Oh damn, let's go for a round 3 with some soft/dilf/underated boys! I'm so happy to receive a request with Sabo ♡ And sure, a round 4 with more underrated characters would be funny, especially with Killer & Marco. Anyway, for the moment, let's go for Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk :D Thank you for requesting, I hope the outcome will match your expectations!

☆ Usopp, Sabo, Ace, Shanks & Mihawk with a s/o afraid of having sex

CW (generals): MDNI, smut, v!sex, f!reader, more are listed under each character

WC : 3K

⇢ You can read the part one here and the part two here

Usopp

CW : virgin!Usopp, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader/Usopp receiving), slight pet name (babe), slight dirty talk, protected sex

(Aw, poor Usopp is probably really stressed too)

Let's assume it's your first time ending up in the same bed. Due to his lie about his experience, he would feel extremely anxious. He claimed to have had sex many times, but it was a total lie. He's a virgin. When you confess that you're afraid because it's been a while since your last sex, he's relieved. At least you're nervous together, isn't that nice? Nevertheless, he is also ashamed and embarrassed by his deceit. He wants to be honest like you have been with him! But he's so nervous about your reaction.

"Y/N… I lied… I mean… I may exaggerate a bit my experience…" he would babble, avoiding your gaze. "It's possible that… this actually is my first time..." while fidgeting nervously and sweating wildly.

He's confused when you burst into laughter. "It was quite obvious to me. You're a bad liar."

Poor Usopp is even more flustered. "Still, you have to make it for your lie."

Even if you're not mad at him, he's still ashamed and jittery. Maybe as much as you, or even more. His lips would gently touch yours, and his shaky hands would roam all over your body.

Please, guide this poor boy. Tell him how to pleasure you.

His hands would be a bit butterfingered while circling your clit or fondling your breasts. Luckily, he cares about your needs and has a creative mind, so he would be pretty good at figuring out how your body works.

Eager boy. He would stare intently at your pussy, astonished by its increasing wetness. He would never be satisfied. The way you squirm, moan and clench around his fingers is mesmerizing.

"Babe, you're so wet down there. Love how you clench around me. Please do the same for my cock."

And if you decide to go down on him… damn, Usopp would just turn into a whimpering, whiny mess. Would probably cum because he can't handle how good your mouth feels around his member.

Poor boy would be so embarrassed to cum that fast.

He would make an effort to repay the favor. But finding the right angle with his long nose is quite a challenge. "Ouch, my nose" all the two seconds.

Again, eager boy. He would remain between your legs throughout the entire day and still crave more. Your pussy tastes and feels so good for his sanity. Please keep moaning his name, it's music to his ears. And if you pull on his hair, burying his head against your folds, he's in heaven.

He's a conscientious boy, so he would wear a condom, use lube, and make sure you're relaxed enough.

He would try to be as close to you as possible while slowly burying himself within you. Your walls stretching around his thick girth would be so captivating for him.

"You're alright? Can I keep going?"

A lot of shudders, shaky hands on your hips while he slowly starts to thrust into your tightness. "Babe, you feel so good clenching around me…"

He would absolutely love to watch his cock covered with your wetness sliding in and out of you.

Wouldn't last that long because it's so overwhelming for him. But damn, he's so eager to make you squirm and moan all night (and all the next day...) He's already addicted to your body.

Sabo

CW : Dirty talk, fingering and oral sex (reader receiving), mention of choking, mention of spanking, slight teasing, protected sex, slight praises, slight pet name (sweetie)

Sabo is probably a very kinky boy. Pretty sure he would enjoy wrapping his claws around your neck and choking you. Or to make you wear his hat while you ride him. Or use his gloves to spank you, or... yeah, the list is endless. However, his soul is also kind and compassionate. He's a revolutionary, a big brother, and a protective person who craves freedom and justice. So if you're afraid because it's been a long time or nervous about getting hurt, he would be really nice to you.

"Sure sweetie, we'll take it slow." with a big, reassuring smile.

Again, revolutionary boy. He would ensure that you are comfortable with each action and constantly verify your consent. "You're alright?" , "Can I touch you there?", "Can I keep going?"

"You're so beautiful" while looking at your naked body, covering it with a lot of sweet kisses along your collarbone, neck, breasts and lower stomach. He would be delighted to stroke your breasts for hours, as they feel so warm and soft in his hands.

"Can I take them off?" While reaching for your panties.

Upon your nod, he would pull your panties down your legs with his teeth. Just to tease you. He would look at you, leaving a kiss on your inner thighs. He's good (and a god) when it comes to anticipation.

"You look so pretty for me. Want me to go down on you?"

He would gently massage your legs with his thumbs, circling your inner thighs as you nod. The more you shiver and squirm in need, the more he feels satisfied with himself. "Need me so bad, Y/N?"

Once more, kinky boy. He would love to spread your legs wide open to get a better look at your pussy clenching around nothing. Before finally going down on you. And damn, Sabo is a god when it comes to eating you out. He's really attentive to your needs and always cares about your reactions. He will follow your leads if you guide him or tell him what you like. Please, bury his head against your wet folds. He likes that. The way your body arching, the way you moan, beg, shudder, cry out while he circles your clit. It's music to his ear. If you cum against his lips, then, Sabo would be in pure heaven.

"Look at how wet you are. Can't wait to fill you up." While pushing two fingers inside you, curling them to find your sweet spot. And as he pulls them off, oh, sure, he would show you how wet you are because he's a tease. Before licking his fingers covered in your wetness. "You taste so good. I bet you pussy will be amazing around my cock."

If you tell him you're ready for more, Sabo, being a smart and responsible boy, would use a condom and lube.

"Shit… you're so tight. You're okay? Want me to stop?" While slowly burying his length inside you. "That's my brave girl, taking all of my cock so well."

Sabo would make an effort to stay soft and sweet just for you. But you feel too good around him, how you clench and spasm around his girth, your tightness, and wetness... it’s too much for him.

"You look so beautiful with my cock buried inside you."

He would let out a shaky breath, gently steadying you while thrusting into you. Really beautiful moans close to your ears.

And really clingy during the aftercare.

(In his mind, he's already thinking about your next round and how his claws would look awesome on your throat.)

Ace

CW : creative use of DF (in a soft/sweet way), slight praises, fingering, face sitting, protected sex, slight dirty talk

If you explain to Ace that you're always nervous and stressed during sex, his first reaction is to panic. And to ask for help from Marco, because Ace is kind and afraid of hurting you. Or not being good enough for you. So he needs some advice, and well, Marco is a doctor.

Once he's more informed, the next time you're having a passionate making-out session, Ace would try his best to reassure you and be extra sweet for you.

In fact, he doesn't have a lot of experience. He always thinks he's not worthy. So it's not easy for him to be intimate, and random hookups are not something he's comfortable with.

He would sit you on his laps and cherish every inch of your body. Your curves are a sight to behold. He feels lucky to touch you. His hands are probably shaking a bit because he's both nervous and excited. He would slowly reach for your bottom and cup your ass cheeks with his hands. "I need you so bad, Y/N"

He would always make certain that you are okay with every action. Like, asking you before touching your breasts, taking off your clothes etc. Such a sweet boy.

He would just push your panties to the side, feeling the heat between your thighs. "Can I?" His voice thick with need and adoration. Your tightness and warmth around Ace's fingers would make him mesmerized. He would hold you tight while fingering you until you beg and beg for more.

Even if his cock is throbbing with need, but he would be focused on you, and only you. "You're so pretty. Feel how hard I am for you?"

"You taste so good. I want more" while licking his fingers.

He would ask you to sit on his face. Because he's so eager. He loves your body, how you feel, how you taste, and the warmth of your thighs pressed against his face. He would love to feel you squirm as he circles your cheek with his fingers and push the tip of his tongue inside you.

Would playfully slap your ass or grip it to press your pussy more firmly against his lips.

When you tell him you're ready for more, Ace would feel a bit nervous again. So he would let you straddle him. At least you can control the depth. Plus, your body is beautiful, so cowgirl is an awesome position to watch all of your curves again and again.

"Fuck, you're amazing"

Another responsible boy, he would use a condom. Ace is too frightened to have a child by accident.

He would hold your hips tightly and the moment his cockhead starts to stretch your walls, Ace would turn into a moaning mess because it feels too good for his poor soul.

"Y/N, you feel so damn good." The more you impale yourself on his length, the more Ace would moan. The sensation is too overwhelming for him, he can't handle it.

"You're taking me so well. You're alright? You feel me right there?" While gently rubbing his palms along your lower stomach. And if it hurts a bit, he would use his DF to gently massage your lower stomach, soothing you with the nice warmth.

Ace will lay you on your back and nuzzle his head on your neck once you feel comfortable and relaxed. Although his thrusts are gentle, you can still feel the force behind them. He’s probably holding back a bit. He would be fond of the way you squirm when the cold pearls of his collar touch your skin.

Beautiful, really beautiful moans.

And would randomly fall asleep on you after he cum. With his cock still inside you.

Shanks

CW : face sitting, slight praises, dirty talk, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), unprotected sex, pet name (pretty girl), slight size kink, teasing

Shanks may be kinky as Sabo, but if you're already nervous due to stress, he won't bend you over the table to fuck you senseless.

"Aw, my pretty girl is stressed? Why? Because I'm too big?" with a playful smile on his lips. He's such a tease.

He would be a little goofy, with some silly dad jokes that would make you laugh. Shanks is not always goofy. I mean, if you want him to fuck you rough, he can. But if you're nervous, then he won't mind making things extra fun. The more you laugh, the less nervous you are after all, and that's all he wants. He likes when sex is enjoyable and natural.

"Maybe I'm armless, but at least, I'm pretty good with my last hand. Wanna try?" with a playful grin.

And damn, he's right. He is talented, even if he has only one hand. The easiest position for Shanks is to sit on his face. First, you're pretty and he loves feeling your juice drip on his chin. Secondly, he's sure he won't lose his balance and just fall on you randomly. Keyword: goofy.

Your pussy's taste would be so intoxicating. Perhaps even better than alcohol. With his hand, he would circle your clit with his thumb and push two thick fingers inside you. You can't help but cum as he stimulates you with his hand and tongue.

"Mh, that's my pretty girl, all wet and open for me. Look at how my fingers are sliding with ease. I bet you're ready for my cock?"

He would love how you feel flushed and flustered by his words. Such a tease.

As you look at his thick and long cock twitching in need, he would just laugh playfully. "Aw pretty girl, don't be afraid, it doesn't bite. I'll stretch you out juuuust nice."

Shanks is probably a bit lazy sometimes and also loves to look at his girl, so his favorite position is always when you're on top of him. He enjoys observing your curves and how you use him for your own pleasure.

"Ride me, don't be lazy."

(So sassy.)

"That's it, take me all the way in." As you gradually impale yourself onto his thick length. Despite your nervousness, he did a fantastic job of soothing you. He will try to alleviate your pain with more silly jokes if it's still painful. "Atta girl" as he's finally balls deep inside of you.

He would love to watch you bounce up and down as you ride him. His gaze would be fixed on your breasts or his throbbing cock, sliding in and out, all covered by your wetness. "Fuck, you're really swallowing me. You like how nice I'm stretching you?"

"You're riding me so well. You love riding your captain, huh?" He would squeeze your breasts or ass playfully while you're doing all the work. And, because he's a tease, he would circle your clit with his thumb. He would laugh as you squirm and coat his cock with your juice. "What's wrong, pretty girl?"

Really chatty and playful throughout the whole time. If you tease him about his missing arm, he would laugh first. If you continue, be ready for him to fuck you senseless, pull on your hair, spank you, and even bite you. "Say that again?"

(Sure, he would know you're unable to answer because of his relentless pounding. That’s too bad, right?)

Mihawk

CW : slight size kink, fingering (reader receiving), oral sex (reader receiving), mention of knife play, slight praises, slight dirty talk, protected sex

Mihawk is a gentleman. While he may have some kinks, sex with him is always about consent and respect. Even when he's extra rough.

So if you tell him you're really stressed because it's been a while since the last time you had sex and because of his size… he would be extra careful.

Mihawk is really classy, so first thing first, he would run you a hot bath for the both of you. And tell you a couple of times how beautiful your bare body is. Gently, he would kiss all of your wet skin, easing your fears, and fondling your breasts. It's probably a bit scary to be so intimate with Mihawk, because his piercing eyes are really impressive. But he's a god when it comes to observing your reactions and learning from them.

If you lean against his torso, his cock will be pressed against your back. All throbbing with need. But he won't ask you anything: he wants to satisfy you and only you.

He would love the feeling of your breasts against his palms and sucking on your nipples. "I'm sure you're already all wet for me." Yes, even with the water, he would still know. Again, piercing eyes. "Wanna bet? Let's find out"

And then, he would carry you to the bedrooms. Extra luxurious and precious bedsheets. The texture is heavenly on your skin. Mihawk would kiss every inch of your body, then spread your thighs. "Look like I was right" with a slight grin, before burying his head between your legs.

Again, he's all about anticipation and elegance. He won't lick your folds as if he were a savage without manners. His first step would be to kiss your inner thighs. Keyword: teasing. He wants to see you squirm and loves to watch how wet you are already, just for a bit of teasing and anticipation. Perhaps he has a fantasy about running his sword (the small one around his neck) along your inner legs. In a soft way, sure. But he won't do it because you're already anxious.

And when he finally starts to eat you out, damn, it's pure bliss. He would constantly look at you with his hawk eyes to gauge your reactions. Figuring out how your body is working won't take him a long time. Be prepared to cum at least once against his lips. "Stay still." If you squirm too much because it feels too good.

After you cum, he would reach for your face and lips and kiss you. "You like how you taste? Because I do." With a playful grin.

Another smart man, so he would both use a condom and lube. To reassure you, he would allow you to ride him. As you slowly sink yourself down his length, Mihawk would fall into an exquisite loss of control.

While holding onto your hips or bedsheets, he would exhale a shaky breath. "You're so tight, I love how you clench around me." While circling your clit with his thumb to ease your potential pain.

"You're riding me so well. That's my girl." Before giving you his hat. So now, you're a real cowgirl. Seeing his girl riding him with his hat would make his cock throb with need. His hands would tightly hold your hips to help you move up and down his length. The sloshing noises, your moans, shudders, how you clench around him, how your juice is dripping down his cock, how your breasts are bouncing with each thrust… it's too much to handle for his sake.

"You're so pretty for me."

He would end up really needy to feel your skin against his. Get ready to stay still on your back as he fucks you with a strong yet gentle pace. A lot of eye contact and intertwining fingers.

And his deep sighs, maybe even low grunts. A pure delight.

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scribblesofagoonerr · 6 months ago

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— mission: chaos fc

↪ muchly requested second part to the previous chapter. I had so much fun writing the first bit, so why not give you guys a second part?

ps. there'll be more parts to this... its' not over yet!

Lets' go with chaos fc!

Thank you thank you thank you to @alotofpockets for helping me with the different ideas and code names, so much to write the mayhem!

pairings: kim little x reader, kyra cooney cross x reader

summary: just 2 best friends being pests together, and enlisting the help of the young guns to help them out

"Yoo-hoo," You call out as you open the door to Kyra's hotel room and walk in, plonking yourself down on her bed as you end up hearing the tail-end conversation of her phone call with Viv.

Ultimately, you know you should try and stay out of trouble. After all, that's what you promised Leah, and you really should keep your promise.

However, you're a known troublemaker and well, wherever you go, trouble tends to follow.

It's only a matter of time...

"Yikes, Vivi sounds mad with you," You can't help but joke and whistle lowly, moving back to relax on the Australians' girls bed with your arms propped up on the pillows. "How bad was it?" You question, curiously.

"She lectured me for what felt like forever," Kyra huffs in protest and slumps back down onto her bed, "It's bad enough I already had an earful from Steph and Caitlin!" She whines.

You wince a bit as you feel bad for her having to deal with that, "Well, if it makes you feel any better I had to deal with a right telling off from Leah and you know she can be scary as hell sometimes," You mumble, shuddering slightly, "And shes' even threatened to ban me eating sweets for a month if she finds out I've got in any more trouble. Oh and there was talk about a leash as well,"

"Right, so no more pranks then?" Kyra slumps her shoulders down in realisation.

"Well, Kimmys' definitely gonna be keeping a closer on us now," You remark, knowing that your Captain will have a watchful eye on you both.

The older Australian nods in agreement, "Yeah, and Steph and Catilin as well probably," She notes.

"Yeah-- I know!" An idea pops into your head as you bolt up from where you're lounging about on her bed, "We'll come up with code names! That way, we can lay low and cause trouble and none of the girls will have a clue that we're talkin' about them!" You personally think the idea's great and you know full well it'll help in your cause to be choatic still.

"That's geinus!" Kyra exclaims, impressed with your ability to think quickly about it.

"Well, you know, I can be pretty smart at times," You remark, jokely pretending to flick your hair back. "Right, we'll be known as... Eagle 1 and Eagle 2," You declare.

"Eagle?" Kyra furrows her eyebrow, confused by where you'd gotten that idea from.

"Uh huh," You nod in agreement with the older girl. "Kimmy will be Tiny, because well, its' kinda self explanatory," You tell her.

Kyra snickers at you making fun of your Captains' height, "Okay. What about Steph and Caitlin?" She questions.

"Caitlin will be known as Veggie, because of Vegemite and Steph will be known as Floof," You begin to reel of the different names, "Alessia will be known as uh, butterfingers!"

"Because of how clumsy she always is?" Kyra smirks at your imaginative nickname for the blonde striker and you nod in agreement, "Alright, what about Katie?" She wonders.

"Leprechaun, because there little shits like she is-- I mean, we're like that too, but shes' Irish as well so it fits better!" You explain your thought process, shrugging your shoulders, "Emily will be known as Fox, like the animal," You state.

"Simple but effective," Kyra remarks, keeping track of the different code names you're coming up with, "Cloe and Frida?"

You tap your finger against your cheek, "Hm, Laces and Magnum, Cloe's last name is hard to pronounce and Magnums' close to Manuum," You delclare, finding the situation amusing to no end, "Oooh. Teyah will be prodigcy, because you know, that's what Katie keeps referring to her as, and Katherine will be umm, Kool-Aid, like the drink!"

"Kool-Aid?" Kyra smirks in amusement as you just confirm your idea with a stuble nod of your head, "Oh, what about Vic?"

"Pancake," You answer without a single thought, "Cos' shes' Dutch and there's a thing called Dutch pancakes-- Oooh, I really want one of them right now!" You stare into space, thinking about them and all you want is one right now.

"Y/N focus," Kyra snaps her fingers in front of your face, trying to get your attention.

You jolt and shake your head suddenly, "Huh-- What... What're we talkin' about again?" You wonder, getting lost in your thoughts about desert already.

"Code names," Kyra reminds you as she laughs, "We still need to figure out the ones' for the rest of them. "What about Sarah and Jonas?" She adds.

"Sarah will be baguette, because shes' french... and Jonas will be Thanos," You're very adamant about the latter, "Because hes' a villian," You hadn't taken the news of Vivs' depature from the club exactly too well and you low-key would like to fight him at some point.

"Still mad about it, huh?" Kyra winces, remembering your reaction to Viv leaving the club wasn't that great.

"Don't want to talk about it. It still hurts," Alongside Katie being the head of the Vivianne Miedema fan club, you were a close second. You were devestated when she played the game in a Arsenal shirt for the last time.

"Pst, Kyra," You whisper and lean over your seat to not to gently nudge the girl to get her attention without being caught out by Kim or the rest of the 'responsible' older girls.

You're currently on the coach on the way to Marvel stadium ahead of the open training session where the fans would have the opportunity to watch you train ahead of the game against the all stars team.

Ever since the phone conversation with Leah, you had definitely been under closer watch and the threats that the blonde made were still fresh in your head as a reminder, and you'll be damned if you miss out on eating sweet treats, best behaviour or not.

But nobody ever said it was fun to always be good and you definitely weren't.

"Yeah?" The older girl turns her head to look at you.

"I have an idea of who can be the next victim of our prank," You give her a coy smile as you nudge your head slightly, "I say we mess with Laces," You gesture to the older girl whos' happily minding her own business.

Kyra smirks at your decision, "What've you got in mind?" She wonders.

You can't help but grin as you lean over the seat and cover your hand over your mouth to whisper to her, "We can sneak into the locker rom ahead of the rest of them. We'll hide the shin pads," You whisper quietly into her ear.

"Perfect," Kyra grins in agreement with your idea to cause chaos once again.

"What're you pair whispering about?" Kim eyes' the two of you suspiciously, hesistant to have even allowed you to both sit near each other.

"Nothing!" Your both quick to respond, acting completley innocent in the situation at hand.

"Mhm, make sure it stays that way!" Kim is less reluctant to simply let that answer slide so she keeps a more thorough check on you.

When the coach pulls up at the stadium, your quick to try and make a break for it, but your Captain doesn't seem to think the same idea, "Not so fast. I want you where I can keep an eye on you," She states, knowingly.

"Kimmmm, seriously?" You whine in protest, but the tight grip that she has on your upper bicep makes it difficult for you to break free like youn want to do.

"Come on," Kim pulls you in the direction of the press conference that shes' got with Jonas and Steph, forcing you to sit on the side where she can keep an eye on you still, "Stay there, don't move," She warns, patting your head ever so pratronisingly before she heads off to join them on the stage.

You can't say you were too fond of being forced to sit there and listen to the journalists ask questions, especially when Steph was poking fun at you directly for your bad habits of wandering off and getting into trouble.

"This is boring," You mutter to yourself and slump down in the chair, while you kick your legs back and forth in annoyance at the situation you've found yourself in.

How long would it take for Kim to realise you'd got up and left?

Only one way to find out, you guess.

"Y/N!" Your names' barked loudly, causing you to freeze in your spot before you slowly spin around and try flash her an innocent smile, "Sit down!"

"Aw shucks," You mutter and flop back down in the seat, trying to ignore the stern look that Kims' giving you while laughter breaks out in the room from everyone else.

"Only our Y/N," Steph chimes in, amusedly.

You realise you're stuck now and you need to resort to desperate measures to ensure that the chaos still happens.

"Young Guns, your time has come!" You think to yourself as you pull your phone out of your pocket to enlist the help of the girls in the academy.

Y/N created the group: mission chaos fc 💥💣💀

y/n added kyra, mini viv and & mini katie & 4 others to the chat

y/n changed kyra's name to eagle 2 🦅🦅 y/n changed freya's name to godfather 😎 y/n changed maddie's' name to baddie 😅 y/n changed vivs' name to winger 🪽 y/n changed laila's name to ernie 🤪 y/n changed naomi's name to diver 🤿 y/n changed katie's name spencer 👀 y/n changed your name to eagle 1 🦅

eagle 1 🦅: young guns. i need your help! godfather 😎: uh... what's this? baddie 😅: why is my name baddie? winger 🪽: what's going on, y/n? ernie 🤪: i'm so lost. godfather 😎: heh, i actually kinda like mine... 😊 baddie 😅: speak for yourself 🙄 spencer 👀: why is my name spencer?👀 eagle 1 🦅: FOCUS YOUNG GUNS, I'M DEPENDING ON YOU!🫵🏼 diver 🤿: umm okay, i'm confused. ernie 🤪: yeah, your not the only one...🫠 winger 🪽: should i get one of the girls to come help you? spencer 👀: i think we should eagle 1 🦅: noooooooo! ⛔⛔⛔⛔ DO NOT GET ANY OF THE OLDER GIRLS!🙅🏼‍♀️🙅🏼‍♀️ i've been kidnapped, this is the plan... spencer 👀: if you've been kidnapped then we definitely need to tell someone! eagle 1 🦅: nooooo its' fine i'm stuck with mother kimmy and she won't let me out of her sight for the forseeable! i'm enlisting your help to join in on mission chaos fc, your time has come! diver 🤿: we should be concerned, right? godfather 😎: yeah, yeah... i think so eagle 1 🦅: your mission whether you choose to accept is up to you. the challenge is simple, i need you to go and hide laces shin pads. don't ask questions tho. do you wish to accept your mission? baddie 😅: whos' laces? 😕 eagle 1 🦅: I SAID NO QUESTIONS ooh right yeah, i realise now... uh its' cloe lacasse, baddie 😅: i'm down! diver 🤿: sure, why not spencer 👀: seems a bit risky... i don't know winger 🪽: we'll help you, eagle 1 🫡 eagle 2 🦅🦅 has entered the chat... eagle 2 🦅🦅 : y/n where are you? i can't find you-- have you been taken to the dark side? eagle 1 🦅: code names, eagle 2... i've been kidnapped by mother kimmy, the young guns' are now enlisted to help you out. i've got to go, my captivator is heading this way. good luck, live long and propser! 🫡 baddie 😅 : we won't let you down, eagle 1! eagle 2 🦅🦅: so long, partner... 🥲

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #arsenal women x reader #woso imagine #woso one shot #arsenal wfc x reader #kim little x reader #kyra cooney cross x reader #scribblesofagoonerr #chaos fc

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4theluvofsapphos · 6 months ago

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Butterfingers - Ch. 2

Melissa Schemmenti x Futch Mechanic!Reader

A/N: no beta, but this is a shorter chappy but it's filler for big things i promise!!!! let me know how u like this one :3 enjoi!!!!

warnings: nada

chapter 1 here

tags: @10gay-keysmash01

Wandering through the halls of the school, you took your time– meandering about from machine to machine, checking stock. Nothing seemed to be amiss aside from a minor repair on the primary hallway vending machine. The thing seemed to have a busted display panel, so users wouldn’t know what they were picking, fate deciding whether or not their corn nuts would be barbeque or ranch.

As you unscrewed the punch pad’s panel, you thought about your giant duffel bag carrying a cartel-sized amount of snacks for the teacher’s lounge.

A small chuckle escaped your lips at the thought, something amused you about the idea of a bunch of adults wanting candy and Cheetos. In a way, you found it wholesome. There was absolutely nothing wrong with it, you thought. It made sense, they were around kids all the time– and kids had some of the best snacking inventory out of all of humanity.

The sound of a familiar voice ripped you from your thoughts,”Hey new guy! What tech-centric genius IT thing are ya doin’ over there?”

Janine jogged over to you, (miraculously) out of breath in the four hurried steps she had just taken. Your eyes glimmered with the question.

You were always something of a teacher. Loving to teach, and more than that, loving to see people learn new things. There was something so satisfying about seeing the gears turn, before clicking things into place and watching a machine whir to life just as it should.

“Oh! It’s nothing too serious, actually. The LCD here seems to be busted, so it’s just a matter of getting a replacement part and plugging these little wires back in right here.” You gestured to the small 5 pin wires needed to connect the screen to the rest of the vending machine.

Janine nodded, clearly not entirely there. She seemed to be looking around for something, and her eyes lit up as soon as she (assumedly) found that thing…or person, rather.

You didn’t mind the dismissal from Janine– you knew your interests were boring to most, or just too complex for people to care about much. Rifling through your repair bag, you opened a large plastic container with multiple small compartments. Various pin wires, replacement nuts and bolts, and most importantly, a small handful of packaged LCD screens sat in the different compartments.

Taking one out of its plastic, you stuck the container back in your bag, before looking over to Janine, only to see that she was waving down the fiery headed teacher from the day before. She was approaching rather quickly, alarmingly so, actually– how on Earth did a woman so petite move so damn fast?!

Brushing aside your unnerved feelings for the mach one woman racing towards you, you turned back to the pin holders still sticking out of the machine, connecting the red and blue wires, before going to connect the black and yellow ones.

“What is it, Janine?” The woman grunted, seemingly annoyed she had to detour. “I’m boutta’ to be late for class, and so are you, kid. Whaddya even doin’ over here– oh.”

The older woman’s gaze went from the beaming young teacher, to your face, before darting away.

“Yeah uh. Hey.” She muttered, shifting uncomfortably from one heel onto the other. Something in you crumbled at her reaction to your presence. Did she really not like you? Maybe it was just because it was early morning…that’s what you told yourself to calm your rising anxieties.

Smiling in response, you let out a little hum in greeting, before turning back to your work.

Melissa clutched her jacket tighter around herself. You noticed she used it like her shield. Something hardened and tough to protect her, maybe? You didn’t have time to speculate– Janine hopped up, patting you on the shoulder and jogging off to class.

“See you, y/n! Glad to see you’re settling nicely!” Janine yelled as she rounded a corner, disappearing.

“Oh- uhm! Bye!” You called after, turning to the machine, before looking over at Melissa, who stood there– seeming to hover, as if waiting for something.

You looked up into those prying green eyes, lips pursing tight as you thought of what to say.

Looking down to your duffel of snacks, you suddenly realized what she was likely waiting for. Grabbing the grey bag with one hand, you lifted the bag while standing up. Melissa followed your gaze, having to crane her neck to see your eyes.

“Sorry about that, I totally thought you were waiting to talk to me– you probably want this, right?” You asked sheepishly, opening a compartment in the duffel, and handing her a small Butterfingers. The bright yellow packaging gleamed in the fluorescent light of the halls.

Melissa’s brows knitted, an unreadable expression crossing her features before she smiled small.

“Oh...thanks, hon.” She sighed, seeming almost disappointed. You cracked a smile at this, knowing she would’ve wanted more than just the one piece of candy.

“I’m messing with you, red. I have this for you.” With a swift motion, you grabbed a quart sized Ziploc bag full of the glimmering yellow and blue candy.

The redhead’s eyes bugged out to the size of dinner plates at your grand display.

“Holy fuckin’-- damn it, you really didn’t hafta do all this! When I said some, I meant a few. Do you know what a few looks like?”

Your features lit up with a nearly face splitting grin,”Several, right? Which is more than two, but not many, but many is a lot, and this is only a quart size. So by definition, you could say this is a few, isn’t it?”

Melissa’s eyes rolled so hard they almost fell right out of her head, a smile threatening to spill onto her features.

She gave a small laugh, and the sound had you grinning even harder, somehow. You presented the bag to her with two hands, the duffel half open on one arm, your tool belt on your other arm, and your repair bag hanging off of your wrist. You looked absolutely insane, but something about that fact seemed to endear Melissa.

She carefully took the bag, cheeks puffing out with how surprisingly hefty the bag was. “In any case, you’re absolutely insane n’ I think you’re crazy for this.” She chuckled halfheartedly, her features hardening to a level of genuine sincerity. “Thank ya, though…really. No one’s ever really done…this for me. Get me my favorite candy n’ what not. So. Yeah. Thanks..”

Before you could say anything back, Melissa turned on her heel and sped off (at that alarmingly fast speedwalk). You let a small puff of air out of your nose, something like a laugh. But you’d never laugh at Melissa Schemmenti. She wasn’t someone to be laughed at. Turning back to the LCD you’d been fixing, you plugged in the remaining connectors, before screwing the panel back on and plugging the machine back in.

As expected, the screen flickered to life. You nodded to yourself, before standing up and heading to the teacher’s lounge.

–

Melissa settled into her classroom while the kids went about writing their daily plans and writing prompt for the morning. Looking at the bag sitting in her lower left drawer, she noticed something sticking out of the mound of Butterfingers she’d recently come into possession of. Opening the bag, she grabbed the slip of paper, unfolding it carefully.

Hey Red,

Hope you don’t hate me for my clumsy introduction. Found these fresh from the factory for you.

Enjoy!

y/n

Melissa’s lips parted, before she quickly crumpled the note and tossed it into the trash. She couldn’t do this, not again.

Not another repairman, not another relationship.

But if you were a woman, did that make it different?

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti fic #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti x y/n #butterfingers fic

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

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the fire

lilac, chapter eight

a/n: hehehhehehehehheheh (but in a smutty way)

summary: “I can light the fire if you’d like.”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, smut, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, renovating an inn, only one bed, fireplace sex, kissing, dry humping, size kink, crying during sex, dirty talk, pussyjob, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I'm just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 3076

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Tossing and turning one last time on the couch, you finally gave up with a gentle sigh. At least you’d gotten an hour or two before you stirred from your light slumber, the butterflies still fluttering in your stomach dooming you to lay here on the sofa till the sun came up.

Getting up, you wrapped the woolly blanket around your frame, the borrowed shirt barely coming down to cover up your bum, and tip-toed over towards the small kitchenette. Careful not to turn on the tap too forcefully, the slow trickle took a while to fill up the glass you’d acquired after peeking through a few of the cupboards.

With one hand clutching the blanket that swaddled you, the other one that held the glass gently turned the water off before raising the drink up towards your lips to soothe your dry throat.

Hearing the floorboards behind you suddenly creak, you quickly spun around and discovered the source to naturally be none other than the person who lived here, “Pete! I mean, Frank! H-hi,” he stepped a bit closer, consequently letting the moonlight bathe across his form, the jaw-dropping vision, unfortunately, causing the drink to slip out of your butterfingers, harshly shattering against the floor and sending a tiny wave of water crashing onto your toes. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and that was it, just the relaxed grey fabric clinging dangerously low on his hips. Ripping your now wide eyes away from his bare and burly chest, you forced your vision down to meet the shards at your feet, “oh, shit…”

Bending down to clean it up, it didn’t take long before another pair of hands also began to carefully pick up the pieces.

“Sorry, I frightened you.”

“No, no, you didn’t, I’m sorry, I’m just a clutz,” you avoided his gaze as you straightened back up, following his lead as he tossed the broken glass into the sink, “and I’m sorry about waking you, I thought I was being quiet, but–”

“You didn’t wake me, don’t worry.”

Wiping your damp hands dry on the blanket still hanging from your shoulders, you finally met his gaze, “well, then I’m sorry about breaking your glass.”

“It’s just a glass,” he uttered earnestly, faintly shaking his head, “you can’t sleep?”

“I could, for a little bit at least, but uh, no,” you wrapped the blanket tighter around your form, one of your palms coming to rub your upper arm over it, hoping that the friction might combat the middle of the night chill you couldn’t seem to shake.

“Are you cold?” he noticed, and your hand subsequently froze in its subconscious movements.

“A bit, but I’m okay.”

“I can light the fire if you’d like,” he gestured back to the hearth located beside your makeshift sleeping arrangement.

“Oh,” your eyebrows gently shot up at his kindness, “uh, sure, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Your eyes couldn’t help but be glued to his frame as he soon ignited the fire, his broad back turned to you as you slowly sank down onto the rug at the foot of the couch, melting back against the bottom of it as your mind floated away to sinful places.

“There,” he sat down the box of matches and leaned back a bit to regard the flame taking a hold, “that should do it.”

As he scooted back to join you on the floor, eyes fast on the fire while yours were still fixated on him, you soon heard your voice pipe up, “hey Frank? Can I ask you something?” to which he simply hummed in confirmation, “that thing you told me last night, when you said that you did some stuff…”

A slow nod stirred his head, “yeah…”

“What were they? Was it something bad? Something illegal? Are you some criminal on the run?” you added half-jokingly, “should I be worried about, I don’t know, the FBI or someone bursting through those doors at any time?”

Staring back into the crackling flame, he simply offered a gentle shake of his head, “no.”

“No?” you cocked your head, leaning forward a bit to catch his distant gaze.

Finding your eyes, he then repeated steadily, “no.”

“Is that all?” a nervous chuckle bubbled out past your lips, “no?”

Sucking in a sharp inhale, he said, “for now, yeah.”

Gazing back at him, a gentle smile eventually warmed your features, “alright.”

“I wanna tell you,” he stressed, breathing deep as he averted his soulful eyes, “I wanna share everything with you, I just–… not yet…”

Seizing his hand, you gave it a soft squeeze, “it’s okay, I don’t want you to tell me anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Blinking back at you again, you then watched as his spine slowly relaxed back against the base of the sofa, eyes eventually flickering back towards the fireplace as his fingers readjusted, weaving in with your own.

Tilting your head down, you gazed at your conjoined hands, turning them a bit so that his was on top. It was kind of comical how much bigger his was than yours. The back of it almost reminded you of a windowpane on a rainy autumn day with the way his prominent veins popped out and snaked over the callused skin just like streaks of water would dance down the surface of the glass. Reaching out, almost unconsciously, you traced the fine lines stretching across his flesh with your fingertip.

After you had drawn over every little story the back of his palm had to tell, your interlocked hands then suddenly began to move as your eyes flickered up to see Frank, softly illuminated in the flickering firelight, slowly raising the back of yours up to his lips.

You had no idea anything could ever feel as soft as his pillowy peck felt against your knuckles. Finding your dazzled gaze, he held it as he gently twisted your hand, gaining enough access to place a trickle of kisses along the inside of your wrist.

And the next thing you knew, as if he was a magnet drawing you to him, your lips pressed against his in a zealous kiss.

As you felt his fingers find your jaw on their mission to weave into your hair, you found yourself crawling closer, so close in fact that the blanket wrapped around you fell to the floor, never to be thought of again, especially not when you eagerly slid into his lap, a shaky sigh quivering against his tongue as you did so.

You didn’t care that you were running out of air, how could you when his pecks were so intoxicating and his warmth so inviting? Wrapping your arms around his neck, you soon sensed his wide palms run down your spine, effectively turning you into goo every time his dreamy touch just shyly peeked under the hem of the oversized shirt you wore or whenever his fingertips just ever so slightly sneaked pasted the elastic of your waistband, never actually getting anywhere, but just the shear cracking of the seal drove you nuts.

So why wouldn’t you begin to rock down into his lap? Sure, you were already on top of the guy with his tongue down your throat, but you still didn’t feel like you were close enough.

Finally, when you felt as if your heart might actually burst out of your chest, you reeled back, panting as you uttered, “fuck, my pulse is beating so fast…” blinking back into his dark eyes through your heavy lashes, you abruptly grabbed one of his hands and, without truly pondering it, tugged it closer, “here,” placing it right beneath your left peak, “feel.”

His long fingers sprawled across your ribs, frozen and framing the crest as he sucked in a deep breath, staring back into your eyes you heard his deep timbre shoot straight to your throbbing core, “it is…” he slowly confirmed your rapid pulse, “are you okay?”

“Yes,” you hazily nodded, his gentle question warming your heart.

“Do you wanna–…” you saw him concentrate on not letting his yearning touch follow its desire and enclose around your boob among other intimate locations, “do you wanna stop?”

With the lightest of shakes to your head, you asked, “do you?” which he promptly answered as you felt his palm begin to move, gently gliding up till he cupped your tit, his broad thumb lightly swiping across, grazing over the pebbly nipple that made its excitement more then clear through his dark t-shirt that hung loosely around your frame.

You couldn’t help but let out a gasp at how good it felt. Toes curling, your hips instinctively rocked down in search of release as you then grabbed onto his bearded cheeks and seized his lips once again.

With a palm at the small of your back, Frank insistently tugged you closer, sending you further up his strong thighs till the palpable tent in his sweatpants nudged against you. Whimpering longingly into the kiss, it hadn’t been till now that you had truly noticed just how hard he was.

Fervently grinding down against his desire, your heated kiss briefly paused just long enough for him to scoop your shirt up and over your head, carelessly tossing it to the side before his arms swiftly enclosed around your frame, hands sprawling over your bare skin of your back as if he was starving for it.

Drawing you even closer towards him, pressing your bare chest against his, you felt his kisses begin to wander. Across your jaw, down your neck and all the way down to your tits. Mouth full, surely littering your soft peaks with lavender love marks, he gazed up at you, holding it as he then took over your desperate grinding, grip digging into your hips as he bewitchingly rocked you down against him.

But that look he sent you should have come with a warning, because pretty much as soon as he flashed it to you, that’s when your hand shot down between your tangled forms, reaching into his pants to truly feel what was driving you mad.

His head tilted back and collided with the plush seat, his mouth agape as he savoured every little pet you offered him as you fished his heavy length out of its restraints.

It was almost a growl that vibrated deep within his throat as he then buried his fists in the cotton of the underwear that stretched across your ass, retroactively pulling them tight enough against you for the soaked gusset to briefly tug against your folds before one of his hands shot down to touch you properly.

Though he didn’t pet you through your panties long before you felt him suddenly yank you up to your knees in order to tug the last bit of your clothes off. Raising your shins, one at a time to help him get them off your form completely, your own fingers eagerly mirrored his as you tugged both his sweatpants and the boxers beneath down his thighs, though you didn’t get to finish the job yourself as he impatiently took over and snatched them the rest of the way off.

You both let out a molten moan the moment you settled back down into his lap, a breathy, “fucking hell,” also flowed from Frank’s lips as your cunt drenched his girth in your want. Palm cupping your flush cheek, he whispered enchantingly, “you’re so fucking beautiful…”

Nuzzling his sturdy nose against your own, you rocked against him so perfectly, so electrically, that if you kept going even just a minute longer, then you’d surely cum right then and there.

“Frank, please,” you whimpered as you felt your pussy clench around nothing, “I wanna feel you,” his hands raked all across your spine, “I need to feel you, all of you, please, I feel so fucking empty.”

“Yeah?” he tilted his chin back, catching your fluttering gaze.

“P-please,” you practically trembled at this point.

Arms already fast around you, he swiftly scooped you up and laid you back down on to the rug, capturing your lips in a brief kiss as he settled on top of you like some carnal deity.

Reaching down, he only brushed his bulbous tip through your folds twice, tapping the weight lightly against your buzzing clit, before you tangled your legs behind him and drew him in.

Perhaps the adrenaline had been to blame, but the brief encounter you previously had with Frank’s cock hadn’t been substantial enough as the light touches hadn’t been able to warn you of the daunting girth he was packing.

As he slowly sank in, a rushed, “shh, shh, shh,” flowed out pasted your lips as you with suddenly wide eyes landed a few trembling taps to his abdomen, pleating him to a halt.

“What? What?” he asked, eyes scanning your features as you breathed deep, trying to overcome his fierce size.

“Holy fuck,” you whimpered breathlessly, eyes fluttering uncontrollably, “w-why didn’t you tell me you were so–, so–, fuck… so big?”

A chuckle suddenly rumbled through him, “well I’m sorry, I thought you had already–, uh… do you need me to pull back out? We don’t need to do it like this if you–”

“No, no, no, don’t, don’t,” the words spilled out of you like the water from the glass you had spilled earlier, “just give me a second, I just need a second.”

Brows knitted, your eyes didn’t leave his as you reeled in the overwhelming, yet astoundingly pleasurable sensation, your walls slowly relaxing around his fat tip as you still felt so close to the edge, like just a tiny little feather could tip you over into ecstasy.

Gentle caresses moving up and down the curve of your form, his soft smile soon brightened as he eventually zeroed in on your puffy pearl, your vibrant reaction being more than enough indication for him to know what was on the brink of occurring.

His tight circles didn’t quit, even when you pussy clenched so tight that his tip popped straight out, he just kept going till your moans turned into cries, limbs grew chaotic and your hand shot down to tap his out, halting it to a complete standstill.

“H-holy shit,” you panted, pulling him down to seize him lips, “holy shit…” you felt his glossy fingers trade the firm motions in with a gentle bit of contact, lightly cupping his slick palm against your puffy folds, shielding you in a way and kissing you softly as you took a moment to regain your vigor.

“You good?” you eventually heard him check in.

“Am I good?” you chuckled, a light furrow crinkling up your brows, “Frank, you just gave me one of the best orgasms I’ve had in I don’t even know how long, but definitely the best one someone else has ever given to me. Yes, I’m good, I’m really good,” you giggled against his lips as you captured them in another kiss, “are you good?”

Echoing your light laughter, he rumbled, “yeah,” as if his painfully hard cock, throbbing against your stomach wasn’t enough of a clue.

Lips glued to his, you reached down and curled your fingers around his dick, or at least as much as you could with your fingers barely meeting on the other side. Ravenous once again, you dragged him across your sensitive clit, his low groan mixing and mingling with your own before you nudged him against your entrance, welcoming him back inside once more.

It was slow, oh so very slow with bountiful breaks dispersed throughout, but eventually, with a bit of patience and a tender touch, you worked up to a gentle rhythm. Though to say that it was gentle in no way meant it wasn’t intense, as the tears that promptly began to trickle down your cheeks effectively made that known.

It only took one sniffle before Frank noticed, reacting quickly though not managing to open his mouth before you did, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, it’s just–, you feel so good,” you blubbered, nails clawing into his back, “having you touch me like this, feeling you inside of me, it just feels so good, please don’t stop,” you begged, your lust streaming through the hot tears, “I’m sorry, I’m not sad, I swear, I don’t know why I’m crying,” a giggle managed to bubble through, “just please don’t stop, please, pleas–”

But the rest of your whimpering words morphed into desperate moans as Frank delivered on exactly what you asked for and then some. Perhaps the palpable power he had on you finally went to his head as he then just let go and lost himself in the pleasure of your warmth.

You’d actually forgotten that he’d, up until now, only fucked you with a fraction of him, but when the air got suddenly punched out of your lungs as his heavy sack tapped feverishly against you, fat girth stretching you out and filling you up to the very brink, the overwhelming sensation wasn’t at all excruciating as you had feared, no, instead it genuinely sent your body straight to cloud nine.

“I won’t stop,” he croaked as he rocked into you, “I promise, I won’t fucking stop,” timing the last few words with his frantic hips, driving into you with each and every word.

“F-Frank, oh!” your eyes rolled in your skull as you sensed your thighs begin to tremble once more, the carpet beneath you beginning to burn from the friction his desperate pace was causing.

“Atta girl,” he groaned deliciously, “fucking hell, you’re gripping onto me so good, so fucking good,” just the tip of his nose ghosted against your own as he murmured, “sucking me back in, you feel so incredible, so–, fuck…”

The lewd and sloppy melody of your connection reverberating throughout the cabin soon concluded with you both in a sweaty and jumbled pile, your thighs still quivering as he reached out for the forgotten blanket, tugging it over the both of you.

Laying there on the floor, soothingly tangled and listening to the fire crackle, you felt yourself melt further into Frank’s form as his touch softly brushed across your tender skin, drawing soothing patterns as you held him close.

“About–…” you then heard him hesitantly break the blissed-out silence, “about what you said earlier… last night…” craning your neck, you locked eyes with his as he admitted, “you scare me too.”

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starlightazriel · 5 months ago

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bad boy az part 4 (fem reader)

warnings: 18+ as usual, sophomore x senior age gap (16/18), fluff, smut, ice play, over stim, angst, violence, child abuse, underage drinking, underage drug abuse, self loathing, self sabotage, angst(y'all can always lmk if i forget any tw)

a/n: hot makeout & jealous az as requested by anon ;)

wc: 5.5k

masterlist

It was the end of finals week and the semester was coming to a close. Thanks to y/n, Azriel was passing every class this semester. It was bittersweet , yes, he was that much closer to graduating but now he wouldn't have a class with her anymore. When they returned from break there would be four new classes that they would carry out until the end of the school year. It was strange. He had been waiting for this moment for years but now... He wished graduation would come slower, these first months of school had flew by.

He could tell y/n had began to change, she wasnt as innocent as she had been at the start of the year. Was he selfish for that? Was he distracting her from her goals? From school? He didn't know if it was his imagination, or if she wore her school uniform skirt just a little bit higher now. She had started wearing lip gloss and mascara, made a few new girl friends. He was proud of her for coming out of her shell, as much as he had liked when he had her all to herself, his little bookworm nerd, his butterfingers. He just hoped... He wasnt corrupting her. He didnt think he could forgive himself if that was the case, but he couldn't seem to ever bring himself to have that conversation with her. And he definitely couldn't stay away either. They had been fucking for four months now, and he supposed, that she brought out a side of him too, he didn't care to admit it, but there was a soft spot he had for her. He also didn't care to admit, that he was going to miss her next week, she was going away with her parents for winter break to visit her grandparents.

Azriel was sitting in his chair in biology, chair tilted back as he waited for her to show up, a small smile threatened at his lips as he saw her standing outside the door, he noticed she was talking to someone and his face fell, brows furrowed slightly. Varsity jacket, only a little taller than her, sandy blonde hair, blue eyes... A football player. He couldn't remember his name, but he knew he was a junior, he had sold him weed multiple time. He was smiling down at her flirtatiously, Azriels blood ran hot, a blush creeping up his neck. Why is she still talking to him? He tapped his fingers vigorously against the table staring the boy down with pure hatred, one step out of line and Azriel would push him onto the floor and kick him in the ribs. Finally he waves once more and turns, walking away. There was only another couple of minutes before the bell would ring.

"Who was that?" he demands as she sits down, surprise flashes in her eyes at his harsh tone.

"Um, James?" she says, her tone unsure, she cocked her head slightly to the side as she looked up at him.

"And what did James, say?" he said his name with a slight tone of disgust as if it was hard to even get out.

"He asked me if you were my boyfriend," she says carefully, her eyes becoming guarded, its Azriel's turn to be surprised now as he waits for her to continue. "And I said I didnt know, but that I didnt think you did that sort of thing.. And then he invited me to a party tonight," she says quietly. Azriels own expression becomes guarded now, he avoided all conversations about labels and feelings at all cost. It was partly a defense mechanism for the trauma he had endured as a child. The abandonment issues that he had, the things he refused to fully face, it was easier to push those feelings down with substances and adrenaline rushes he would get from skating.

"Well are you going to go?" he finally asks, ignoring the whole first part of what she had said. It may have stung a little bit, but she was right anyway, what else was she supposed to say? He wasnt her boyfriend after all, that was a fact. Even if the lines of friendship seemed to blur more and more as of late between the two of them.

"I was going to see if you wanted to go with me?" she looks up at him from under those thick lashes and he softens, relief seeming to wash over him. Even if he knew it wasnt fair to keep her to himself like this, he knew she was probably only attached to him because he had taken her virginity, he couldn't help himself. She was the type of girl that was supposed to lose her virginity in college, the type of girl that has her nose always so far into a book that no one paid attention to her, the type that loses her virginity to an Ivy League boy that would sweep her off her feet and only make love to her after eleven dates or something like that. She deserved better than Azriel, and it was starting to burn a hole of guilt right through his gut, he was just some burn out kid that wasnt even wanted by his own parents. She was just blinded by his looks... And the pleasure he gave her.

"Well you aren't going alone butterfingers," he finally responded with before the bell rang, she only looked at him curiously, her brow slightly furrowed before she turned her attention to the teacher.

"Alright let's quiet down, get those dividers up, exams about to start," the teacher says, tapping the exams against his desk to line them up. "No phones, no talking, no cheating. When you're finished you may bring it straight up to me and I will dismiss each of you as you finish," he begins passing the exams out and Azriel lets out a small huff, suddenly it didn't seem so easy to focus on anything, let alone his exam.

When the time came for Azriel to pick her up from her house, he leaned against his car outside her house, taking drags from his cigarette as he watched the door, waiting for her to appear. His cigarette nearly dropped right from his lips when she exited her house, his brows raising in surprise.

At his surprised expression, she began rambling. "Oh god, it's too much isn't it? I told Maggie it was too much but she didnt listen and then she left to go get ready because you were coming to get me and I should go change, Ive never worn anything like this I can't wear-"

"No, you look..." he rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words, he couldn't find them. "Perfect," he finally mumbled stupidly, her cheeks blazed at his words. Despite the cold weather, she was wearing a short tight low rise black skirt exposing her hip bones, her bare torso was also exposed from the white crop top she was wearing, the only thing to keep her warm was the boots she wore along with a cropped fuzzy jacket. Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail a black ribbon tied around it, her lips were red and glossy, and seeing her like this... It made his chest tighten, and his stomach turn because he knew that every single boy that had always only overlooked her as an annoying know it all that upstaged everyone in class, would see her in a different light tonight, they would see how special she was. She was a fucking star, and standing next to him he knew she would shine even brighter.

If they didnt have somewhere to be, he would have brought her back upstairs and fucked her perfect pouty little mouth. His throat bobbed and he turned, opening the passenger side door for her. "Come on, butterfingers," he gave her that little uneven smirk that he knew made her knees weak and watched her get into his car, licking his lips as he did.

This was a first for Azriel, leaving parties with someone was normal for him, but showing up with someone? Definitely a first. He had never felt this way with anyone, and he knew he was fucking up, he knew the longer he let this drag out, the harder it would be for both of them. He was too selfish to stop now. They rode in silence, and he could tell she was nervous as she hadn't stopped fidgeting since she entered the car. He smoked a spliff as they drove, offering it to her but she declined, saying that it would only make her even more nervous. When they pulled up Azriel reached into his glove box and pulled out a small bottle, tossing his head back and taking at least two shots. "Liquid courage?" he asks, that same half smirk plastered onto his face again.

"Okay," she agrees and takes the small bottle from him, taking a small swig and struggling to swallow, she coughs, her nose scrunching in distaste. "How do you drink this so easily?" she asks, earning a laugh from him, he just shrugs and takes it again having another long swig, more than half of the bottle gone now. He hands it back for her to try again, and she does, her sip just a little bigger this time, she shakes her head as if trying to shake it off, her nose scrunching again. Azriels heart melted, his chest warming with his unidentified feelings and the liquor he was drinking.

"Lots of practice. Come on butterfingers," he chuckles quietly and gets out of the car walking around to the other side to open the door for her. They could already hear the noise from the party. Music, kids yelling and laughing in the distance, she looked sick with nerves. "You okay?" he raises a brow, holding his tattooed hand out for her to grab. She looks down at it before grabbing it and getting out of the car, looking up at him with a look of uncertainty.

"I should have changed," she mumbles, self consciously folding her arms over her exposed stomach. "I look ridiculous," she adds, rolling her eyes.

"You think you look ridiculous. And I think Im not going to be able to leave your side tonight because everyones going to want to fuck you in there, but I'm fucking you, so its up for them," he grins lazily, his eyes low and glassy from the spliff and the near half of a bottle he had just drank. She looked a little surprised at his openness, he had only been drunk around her once before, that night she had ignored him and he climbed into her window.

"You're not helping if you think you are," she rubs her arm and he just shrugs, putting his arm over her shoulder. He figured, walking in like that, should get the message across.

"I promise, you are going to survive this," he turns to say it in her ear, he feels her body shiver against him. He loved that, he loved how easy it was to get to her, to make her need him. She doesn't say anything else though, she just walks by his side, awkwardly dropping her arms before they reached the door. James is the one to open it, and Azriel tenses as James drinks her in from top to bottom, his eyes pausing on all her exposed skin.

"Y/n, Im so glad you made it," he grins at her, she blushes, Azriels blood gets hotter, his arm sliding down to her back, pressing in gently. He knew she blushed easily, but it pissed him the fuck off that she blushed for him. "Aaaand you brought the plug," he's not as excited sounding as he says this, his eyes drifting to Azriel. Azriel tilts his chin up slightly as if to remind James who would win if he decided to piss Azriel off enough to fight him. Despite James being a foot ball player, Azriel had been defending himself since he was in diapers, not many could compare to that.

"The wha-" she starts to say, of course she wouldn't know what that means.

"Come on," Azriel pushes her slightly, past James who was trying to say something else to her. He was well aware of all the eyes on them, on her mostly, but again he had never arrived somewhere with a girl before.

"Azriel, I think everyone is staring at us," she whispered, and he could feel her shaking, clutching the small bag she had brought. "I knew I should have changed..." he ignores her, continuing to push through the crowd until they reached the kitchen where there was a keg and solo cups, he poured them each a beer, and chugged his own before refilling it again.

"I don't like him," Azriel informs her taking another sip out of his fresh beer. "He's corny as fuck Id advise you stay away," he shrugs and watches as she sips her own, her nose scrunching again, he softens, smiling down at her and shaking his head.

"I can't believe you drink this for fun," she mumbles, looking down at the cup with distaste. "It does work fast though, I think Im tipsy," she laughs and then looks back up to him. "Why did he call you the plug?" she asks as they start walking through the many bodies, people were still glancing, but not as much anymore.

"It means I sell things," he says simply before adding. "Like weed and stuff," he shrugs and she nods in understanding, but doesn't comment. They find a couch and Azriel sits, pulling her down next to him. They sat for a couple hours, leaving only to get drinks or use the bathroom. Maggie had greeted them briefly but disappeared with the guy she was talking to shortly after. They were just talking, laughing, watching the fuckery of a high school party unfold before them.

"So this is what you do? Just sit here and watch?" she asks Azriel as he rolls himself another spliff. She was drunk now for sure, her words slurring slightly, her hazy eyes fixed on his mouth while he licked the spliff to seal it.

"And get fucked up," he adds and laughs softly, glancing back at her.

"You got any beans bro?" A male voice interrupts them and Azriel looks up from where he's sitting, he tucks his spliff behind his ear and looks back over at her before scanning the room for Maggie who was nowhere to be found. He stands up then, turning to face her.

"Don't move until I come back, okay?" he asks, his eyes meeting hers, she was too drunk. He shouldn't leave her... But he did have a whole bag of ecstasy in his pocket that had been burning a hole in his pocket since he got here.

"Where are you going?" concern flashes across her features and she furrows her brow.

"I'll be right back just don't move," he repeated before turning back to one of his regular customers. "Not here," he shrugs and walks past him, leading him to a more quiet corner of the house. Azriel pulls out the bag of colorful pills.

"Four," he says and holds his hand out.

"Money first dumbass," Azriel rolls his eyes, this was already taking too long and he thought about her sexy, drunk, body alone on the couch for display.

"Sorry man Im fuckin toast right now," he laughs but Azriel doesn't even crack a smile, he just shoves the money in his pocket and hands him four pills, not even saying as much as a goodbye as he walks passed him back to the living room.

Azriel stops in his tracks when he sees that she's not where he left her. He frantically scanned the room, searching for her small frame, but he didnt see her. He advanced toward the kitchen and didnt find her there either, the only other place he could think of was the bathroom.

His heart almost stopped at the sight before him, there she was, in the hallway leading to the bathroom. Jealousy gnawed at his gut as he stared furiously.

"Why don't you go to parties more often? you look so damn good. You're too damn pretty to be wasting your time with that burn out, he probably makes you do all his homework," James is standing over her, his arms are on either side of her and he's blocking her against the wall. She's frozen in fear, cowering back against the wall, hugging her body.

Azriels blood runs hot, anger coursing through his veins, in seconds he's behind him. "Get the fuck away from her," Azriel growls from deep in his throat and yanks him back by his collar so hard that James stumbles back, the back of his head colliding with the wall on the other side of the hallway. She lets out a little scream, her hand flying to her mouth. James stumbles to his feet ready to attack Azriel but he swings first, his fist connecting with James' face blood gushes from his nose and a cut from Azriels rings.

"Azriel," she shouts, grabbing his shirt and trying with all her strength to yank him back, people had began gathering and recording and she yanked him again, James was coughing and just repeatedly blubbering "he broke my nose, he broke my fucking nose."

"It's not broken you fucking idiot you're just a pussy," Azriel spits at his feet. "You are so fucking lucky though I swear, you better stay the fuck out of my way at school," he tilts his chin up, staring down at James with disgust.

"Azriel we have to go!" She repeats and yanks on his arm again, he reluctantly turns following her out of the party quickly. As soon as they reach his car he nearly slams her against it, pinning her between his body and the door.

Azriel slams his lips against her, kissing her like he had never kissed anyone before, seeing her with someone else, even if she didnt want him, just seeing her that close to someone else... It made him realize something, he liked this girl, as more than a friend. And as wrong and scary that might be, he was too drunk and stubborn to even truly acknowledge what that even meant.

She gasped softly, her lips parting and he slipped his tongue past them, his hands feeling roughly anywhere that they could. "If he ever comes near you again I'll blind that little bitch," he he growled against her lips, making her moan, her fingers were curled around the back of his neck nails digging deliciously into his skin, her other hand was gripping his side tightly underneath his shirt. He held her face with one hand, pushing his tongue deeper into her mouth, savoring her sweet taste and he moaned in approval against her lips. He had never kissed anyone so hungrily in his life, it was as if he could never get enough of her, and seeing her so close to someone else made him want to remind her why she was by his side in the first place. "Im going to make you cum over and over tonight," he promised, his breaths ragged against her lips, she was panting and he could feel her heart beating fast against him. He stepped back, pulling her with him and opened the car door for her. "Get in," he grunts softly, gently pushing her to get into the car.

"Im drunk," she giggles softly, watching Azriel roll a spliff, his seat leaned all the way back. They had just pulled up to his house and were still sitting in the car.

"I know," he chuckles quietly, he was in a better mood now, due to the fact that she had been belting out the lyrics to every song that had come on the radio on the drive back to his house, and not only that but her head had been out the window.

"Can I ask you something?" she becomes more serious now, he looks up at her as he licks the spliff, but her eyes are on his hands. He raises his brows and just nods, the only light on her face was the soft glow from the streetlights, she was breathtaking he thought. "How did you get those-" she hesitates as if not wanting to say it out loud, he was sure she only gained the courage to ask because of the alcohol running through her veins.

"The scars?" he asks and she nods, he glances down at his hands, and then back to her eyes. He debated on whether or not to tell her, only Rhys and Cass had heard this story. She was staring up at him innocently, waiting, her eyes were glassy, cheeks flushed from the alcohol in her system. He sighed softly, turning his body back toward the steering wheel as he lights his spliff. Azriel knew this was one of those things you just don't make eye contact when you speak about it. "When I was in middle school," he started, bringing the spliff to his lips, he could feel her eyes on him, "I used to steal my dads cigarettes and sell them at school," he admits and smiles sheepishly, stealing a glance, she was looking at him with disapproval.

"Anyway," he laughs before continuing, smoking while he did as he watched the flicker of the streetlight. "He caught me one day, and he was so fuckin pissed," he shakes his head, absentmindedly running his fingers through his hair with his free hand. "He whipped my hands with hot wire, he took it straight outta the fire pit," He says, recalling the night easily since it was one of the more traumatic things he had endured, it had gone on for hours he remembered. He had whipped him once and made him stay still there a hot rag draped over his hands while he heated up the wire again. Over and over reiterating to Azriel that he was not to steal from him. If he moved, if he let his hands drop as his arms had been aching and threatening to give out from holding them for so long his dad would smack him across the face so hard that he would nearly fall to the floor. It had gone late into the night, until Azriels hands were so burned and bleeding that he had fallen asleep in a cold bath that night, a chair propped against the bathroom door to keep his father out.

"Azriel..." Her voice cracked and he turned toward her, spliff hanging from his lips. Tears were rolling down her red cheeks, black streaks of mascara running with them. She was crying for him, for what he went through. This intelligent, beautiful, ambitious and strong young woman was crying for him. His gut reeled, despite the alcohol guilt still churned in his gut as he thought about the conversation he was avoiding.

"It's okay, Im okay, you don't have to do that," he shook his head putting the spliff out before swiping away her tears with his thumbs. He then leans over the car pulling her into is arms, holding onto her tightly, another thing that he didnt normally do.

"You're drinking more?" she asks, her jacket and shoes now on the floor by Azriels door as she had discarded them more carelessly than she normally would have. He had discarded his shirt, and went downstairs upon their arrival, making himself a whiskey on the rocks before returning to her.

"Im thirsty," he says, looking down at her hungrily, her breasts pressed against the thin fabric of her shirt, revealing her nipples to him. She blushes, her eyes raking over his tattoos, her teeth gently biting down on her lower lip.

"You wanna try something butterfingers?" he asks, his voice low and husky, she quickly nods, like she usually does when he asks if she wants to try something. He loved how eager she was to please him. "Take it all off then," he growls softly, not peeling his eyes away for even a second while he continued to finish his drink. He watched her undress, his cock straining and aching in his pants like it had been for most of the night, all he had to do was look at her and all the blood and heat in his body would go straight to his cock. Needing her.

She fumbles clumsily with her clothing, her breathing heavy as she stares up at him with heavy lids. She bares herself to him, spreading her legs slowly as her eyes lock with his. Despite the alcohol, he knew months ago she never would have spread her legs for him like this, not without the light being off at least.

"Im so proud of you, youve gotten to be such a good girl since we started," he says, licking his lips before he downs the rest of his drink, leaving nothing but the ice in his glass. Azriel was definitely a freak, though, not many girls at all had been able to bring that side out of him. Y/n got everything.

He sucks an ice cube in his mouth, setting the glass on his night stand before he hovered over her, gently sliding the ice cube and his cold lips across her jawline. She gasps, her hands flying down to grip the sheets, her chest rising and falling. He slips the ice down her throat and over her chest, causing her back to arch, a whimper leaving her lips as he circles the ice cube around her hard nipple. It was melting against her warm skin. She writhed underneath him, trying to get any friction that she possibly could. He spit the ice into the center of her breasts when it was just a small pebble before retrieving another cube. He held it in his lips again, working her other nipple around and around with the cold ice cube, she moaned again, tugging hard at his sheets as her body wiggled beneath him.

"Azriel please," she begs quietly, desperate for him to keep going. He hums quietly as if to answer her and slides the ice cube down the center of her stomach, her breath shudders as he holds her hips still. He slides the ice on either side of her throbbing pussy, her hips fighting against him as she whined and pleaded with him for more.

"I love your little cunt," he grunts softly staring down at her throbbing glistening pussy, her arousal dripping from her at this point. He retrieves another ice cube, holding it in his teeth again and he leans down between her legs, gently dipping the ice into her opening, she cries out, pulling the sheets tighter, her knuckles going white. She tries to pull away, but he holds her tighter, pinning her legs open on the bed so she was spread wide for him. He moans softly and pushes the ice cube into her licking up and down her pussy over and over again until it melted and then he wrapped his lips around her clit sucking softly.

"Azriel," she cried out, her body jerking with each shock of her orgasm as he continued to lick her and suck her through it.

"Good girl," he praised and sat up a little bit, marveling at her release that dripped from her pussy. She only whimpered in response, her breaths ragged and heavy. He slid his finger inside her, wiggling it back and forth so he hit that special spot every time, his rough fingers were perfect for it. "Come on baby, let me get another one," he breaths out his voice raspy as he watches her intently. His words were enough to make her cum again, her body shook with pleasure and she screamed his name before her mouth dropped in the sexiest O he had ever seen in his life. He buried his face between her legs again, licking up all of her release, she was squirming and pushing and fighting to get away before she gave in, letting him lick her over sensitive pussy to orgasm one more time before he flipped her over and fucked her. He whispered to tell her how good she was, his lips against her ear making shivers go down her spine as he fucked her into complete oblivion.

He held her against his chest when they finally finished, his fingers gently stroking her hair, his head slightly pulled back so he could admire her.

"I love you Azriel," she mumbled drunkly right before she drifted off to sleep, his fingers froze in her hair, a tight knot forming in his throat and he tried to swallow it. He gently slipped out from under her, lifting the blanket over her naked body before stumbling across the room to the small couch in his room, his eyes not leaving her.

He had let this go on too long. He had let this whole situation get way out of hand, he had made her fall in love with him, he was unloveable, he was unreachable. A relationship between them just wasnt possible, she deserved so much better than him, someone with a life and a future, someone with a family like hers. Azriel leaned back on the sofa, staring up at the ceiling, he didnt get a wink of sleep that night his mind raced and his heart ached for what he knew he had to do in the morning.

I woke up in the morning a grin quickly finding its way onto my face as I deeply inhaled Azriels familiar scent, I knew what bed I was in. A blush crept onto my cheeks next as I peered at the cup with just a little water in it from the ice that had melted. It was a little fuzzy, but I definitely remembered, and the dull ache and throb between my legs reminded me that it was all very real. I turned around, expecting my arm to land on Azriel but I was met with a cold empty pillow, my brows furrowed in confusion and I quickly sat up, pulling the blanket over my chest when I saw him sitting across from me on the small sofa at the opposite side of his room.

"What are you doing over..." I trailed off, my voice faltering when I beheld the expression on his face. He was looking at me with that same cold, blank, guarded expression that he gave to every body else.

"Y/n," he said my name slowly, absolutely no emotion leaking from his words, my heart sank into my gut, settling like a rock there. "I want you to know, that what Im about to do, has nothing to do with you." he continues, and he was so serious, that I knew what was coming, tears threatened to spill from my eyes.

"Please don't..." I manage to choke out, he looks away for a second, his throat slowly bobbing before he seems to compose himself again, his eyes locking mine with that same cold and distant expression.

"Ive let this go on for far too long," he continues carefully, a small sob escapes from my throat and I feel like I can't move, I feel like im frozen in a nightmare.

"What did I do wrong?" Tears are running down my cheeks now, blurring my vision as I rack my brain for anything I could have done last night that would cause this. Bile rises in my throat, horror settling in as I remember what I said to him before I fell asleep. I had told him I loved him. Embarrassment washes over me as I realize how stupid I was for doing so, my hand flies to my mouth, covering up another soft sob.

"I told you, this has nothing to do with you... I just I can't do this y/n... I can't have a relationship with you. That's not me. You deserve better than anything I can ever give to you," he continues carefully, his hands wrapped around his knees, gripping them as if to keep from fidgeting. My heart felt like it was cracked in two, my chest physically ached. I yank off the covers, scrambling to dress myself, silent tears spilling from my cheeks. "But we can be friends still butterfingers, just minus the sex part. I want to be your friend, that's why Im doing this," his tone had softened a bit, and he was on his feet now too, looking worried.

"I have to go," I choked out, quickly putting my shoes on. "My parents are going to be waiting for me," I muttered. The last thing I wanted to do was visit my grandparents right now.

"I'll drive you," he swallows, reaching for his keys. I stared up at him one last time, searching his eyes. The guarded expression was gone, replaced by a pleading one.

"No, Im going to walk," I turned and left, all but running out of his house.

He didnt chase after me.

a/n pls don't kill me

#acotar #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel fan fiction #azriel fluff #azriel spymaster #acotar smut #azriel smut #acotar fanfiction #acotar fic #azriel au #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel #bad boy Azriel #azriel x reader

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 1 year ago

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a/n: i know i said i probably wouldn’t write more for brady, but, uh, here we are. this is porn with the barest minimum of plot. like genuinely this is so deranged but i had a wild time writing it. MAJOR props to @smileysvech for the title because i couldn’t think of a single one 😭

word count: 10.5k (😳 i had NO idea it was this long omg)

tw: period sex, like big time. this is essentially all smut and you’ve been warned. blood, obviously

summary: when you’re on your period, brady just wants to make you feel good

When Brady comes home after practice and his workout, a full five hours after he left the house in the morning, he finds you in the exact same spot on the bed - curled up in the fetal position. You have the plush Stormy he bought you as a joke when one of your date nights accidentally ended at the pro shop cuddled against your chest, your face pressed into the top of the pig’s stuffed head. You lift your head slightly when you hear him step into the bedroom and mumble a soft, pitiful ‘hi’ before pressing your face back into the stuffed animal.

Brady lets out a sympathetic hum and sits down on the edge of the bed, a plastic bag crinkling in his hand. “Hey, sweetheart, still feeling crappy?” His fingers are cool against your skin when he reaches over and brushes a few pieces of hair off your forehead. His forehead is creased with concern, full lips downturned in a frown.

“Every damn month, Brady,” you whine, pulling your knees up closer to your chest, trying to add pressure to alleviate the cramps. “Every month and somehow I’m still always knocked on my ass.”

Your periods had always been difficult, lasting a full seven days and coming with headaches, sore breasts, nausea, and raging cramps. Days one and two were always the worst and it blew your mind how you were surprised that you felt like hot garbage every time. It’s like you forgot about the symptoms and misery the second it was over. Being on birth control had helped a bit, but birth control came with its own side effects - a rapid weight gain, migraines worse than you’ve ever had before, and a total death blow to your sex drive. So, off the birth control it was. The weight had slipped off and the migraines were reduced back to a normal headache. It had taken a second for your libido to come back, worrying you, but thankfully it was back a few months after stopping the pills. Now you just have to suffer through the worst two days of your period, the edge coming off with a borderline unhealthy amount of Advil going into your body.

“Maybe this will help?” Your boyfriend grins a little as he rustles through the plastic CVS bag and withdraws a can of raspberry Arizona iced tea and two king sized Butterfingers bars. He holds the candy bars between his fingers, splayed out like he’s displaying a deck of cards.

Tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by Brady’s thoughtfulness and the flood of hormones in your body. You nod a little, giving him a wavering smile. “You’re too good to me,” you reach out and flatten your palm over Brady’s grey-sweatpants clad knee, the closest body part of his that you can reach from your position in the middle of the bed. Brady snorts a laugh.

“Sweetheart, this is nothing,” he leans back a little and sets the candy and drink on your bedside table, knocking the family-sized bottle of Advil to the floor and pushing your half-finished Tessa Bailey novel to the edge, nearly sending it to the abyss between the piece of furniture and the wall. “Whatever you need from me, I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”

It’s game day tomorrow, at home, which means Brady really is off the hook from team responsibilities until morning skate tomorrow. A sharp cramp works its way through your uterus and you wince, wiggling a little to stop your butt cheek from going numb.

“Can you just…like, cuddle with me?” You ask, rolling your neck so you can look up at Brady’s face. His eyes are soft and a low throb of want fights the cramps. You feel gross though, bloated and sore and right now all you can handle is being the little spoon to Brady’s big.

Brady’s nodding, already laying back on his side of the bed, “whatever you need from me, sweetheart,” he says, rolling onto his side and opening his arms for you to scoot in. His body is warm and inviting and you could cry with how badly you just need to be held right now. You feel stupid and silly and fragile, but Brady’s never shied away from giving you the comfort you need. He’s still and patient while you settle your head on the inside of his bicep, pressing your back against his chest, your ass flush against his groin, your knees bent and his knees slotted in right behind yours. Every inch of your body is pressed against Brady’s and the body heat coming off of him is better than any heating pad.

He wraps the arm that’s supporting your head over your chest, his forearm resting against your collarbone, and slides his other hand under the hem of your sweatshirt so his warm, broad palm can rest on your lower stomach, pressing down with gentle pressure to help your cramps. You sigh happily and relax back against him, tension seeping out of your shoulders and spine.

“Better?” He murmurs, breath hot against your ear and cheek. You nod, closing your eyes. Brady curls his knees up a little more so you’re both bent closer to a fetal position and there’s more relief for your lower back.

“Perfect,” you mumble, wiggling just a little so you’re even further in the cocoon of Brady’s arms. You can feel the slight press of Brady’s cock against the curve of your ass, but even that’s comforting, more so mentally than physically, since it’s proof that Brady still finds you attractive even when you feel your grossest. “How was practice?” You ask, happy to listen to Brady talk while you ignore the twinge of cramps.

He chuckles a bit, his chest vibrating at your back. “Same old,” he says and it feels so good when his chest moves against your back, the soft rumble of his voice in your ear. “Brett says to tell you that Amy’s gonna text you about a viewing party for the away game next week, thinks it’s her turn to host?”

You hum a confirmation, nodding against Brady’s arm. “It is. I get the game when you’re all up in Montreal,” you reply, knowing you’re probably going to have half a dozen texts from Amy when you eventually muster up the energy to pick up your phone. Brady’s hand rubs soft circles against your lower stomach, releasing more of the tension that’s built up without you realizing it. You shift again, stretching your lower back and feeling the giant pad you’re wearing move around. Brady has to be able to feel it with how closely you’re pressed against him and the thought makes you tilt your hips forward, away from his dick, so he doesn’t realize that you’re basically wearing a diaper.

Brady presses gently on your stomach and on your shoulder with his other hand. “Sorry,” he mumbles a little sheepishly, and you wonder why until he continues, “I know you’re not in the mood to have my dick poking at your ass. Swear I’m not that guy that’s worried about getting off when you’re feeling so crappy.”

“Oh!” You bite down on your lip to smother a little smile even as your nose burns with hormonal tears. Honestly, it hadn’t even occurred to you that Brady would think you were shifting away because of him. “No,” you rush to reassure him, twisting your neck so you’re looking at him from an awkward angle. “I’m not…I didn’t think…oh fuck, I just didn’t want you to, you know, have to feel everything that’s going on,” you wave at your lower half with one hand vaguely, “down there.”

“Sweetheart,” Brady’s lips quirk up in a little smirk, “I’m thirty years old, I don’t have any issues with what you’ve got going on. Besides,” he chuckles a little before kissing your temple, “I’ve seen the box of pads under the sink.”

Your entire face flushes hot and you grumble, “well, let’s just not talk about that.” Brady laughs again and kisses your hot cheek. It’s almost unnatural how sweet he is, but you suppose after the string of terrible boyfriends in your early twenties, this is what it’s like being in an adult relationship with an adult man.

“How about you close your eyes and try to nap?” Brady suggests. He subtly pulls you closer again, until your ass is back where it belongs against his semi-hard dick. His thumb strokes an arc under your belly button and you sigh, warm all over from Brady’s body curled around yours. “I know you tossed and turned all night.”

“Sorry,” the words get lost in his bicep, your cheek pressed against the fabric of his t-shirt. “Tried not to move so much.”

Brady’s hand moves in lazy circles against your skin and he keeps you pressed tightly against his chest. He’s functioning like the world’s greatest weighted blanket. When he replies, his breath ruffles the little pieces of hair escaping your messy bun. “Should’ve woken me up, I would’ve spooned you until you fell asleep again,” he sounds almost hurt that you didn’t wake him up.

“Next time, I’ll wake you up,” you promise, pressing a soft little kiss to the inside of Brady’s bicep, brushing your nose over the soft skin. His arms tighten around you and you feel him kiss the back of your head.

“Just wanna be there for you,” he says, yawning a little. The yawn is contagious and your jaw cracks a little with the effort. Brady tucks one leg in between yours and you settle back, your head resting under his chin.

You must fall asleep at some point, because when a sharp, persistent cramp stabs at your abdomen, sending you curling forward in a tight little ball, the sun is a little lower in the sky and blinding you from where it peeks out under the partially opened blinds. Brady’s arms are still wrapped around you, keeping you mostly in place even as you’re pressing your hands to your lower stomach to try and alleviate the cramps. Whatever brief reprieve you had during your nap is gone now, the pain back with a vengeance, and you groan a little, waking Brady from his nap.

“Bad again?” He asks, voice rough with sleep. The arm around your chest drops flat down to the mattress and you roll a little onto your stomach, pressing your hand tightly against it. His other hand is caught in between your body and the mattress, tangled in the waistband of your shorts. He wiggles his fingers ineffectually.

“Mhm,” you mumble into the pillow your face is pressed against. “C’n you give me Advil?”

“Yeah, whatever you need,” Brady rolls onto his side and hangs his upper body off the side of the bed to scoop up the bottle of Advil off the floor. He pops the top off and starts shaking pills into his hand before stopping and squinting at you suspiciously. “Wait, how many have you had already?”

“Two?” The lie comes out as a question and Brady rolls his eyes at you, lips twisted in an amused expression.

He cups his hand and drops the pills back into the bottle. “You want to try that again?” He asks, raising an eyebrow and leaning back to set the bottle on your bedside table.

You roll back onto your side, facing Brady, and poke your lower lip out in a pout. “Okay, so maybe it was like five or six, but I think I know how many Advil I can handle, Brady,” you can’t help the sharp edge that colors your response. The cramps are a stabbing pain, radiating through your lower back and hips. “Just give me one at least.”

Brady reaches out and settles his hands on your hip to pull you closer. He huffs your name on an exasperated sigh. “No way, your liver’s going to give out if you take any more Advil. Come here and I’ll give you a massage, see if that helps,” he says already rubbing one large hand over your lower back. His thumb digs into a particularly sore spot and you let out an involuntary moan, gasping a little. The muscles in your back are so knotted and stiff that even Brady’s gentle touch is painful.

“I…s’not gonna help,” you whine, wiggling under his touch. Tears fill your eyes involuntarily. “Hurts too much.” You exhale a harsh breath and roll away from him, wincing when you sit up. You have to change out your pad and moving might help. Brady doesn’t say anything, but you can feel him watch you as you rush off to the bathroom, hunched a little when another sharp stab of pain grips your stomach. Fuck this. One-tenth of the pain of actual childbirth contractions? If that’s true, you’re making sure you’re completely knocked out when you have kids.

You don’t linger in the bathroom, cleaning up and getting yourself ready to crawl back under the covers, making a mental note to see your gynaecologist again and harass her about a possible endometriosis diagnosis. Because this shit is just not natural.

Brady’s propped up against the headboard, his phone in his hand. He looks up when you come back into the bedroom and you’re not entirely sure you love the look on his face. He holds up his phone, displaying the screen even though you can’t see the webpage, and says, “you know, orgasms are a natural way to get pain relief from cramps.”

You’re shaking your head before Brady’s even finished talking. “No, no way. I’m never able to get myself off properly anymore, I’ve been spoiled,” you shoot him a mock glare and his smile turns smug. You continue, cutting him off when he opens his mouth, “And! It’s gross, I’m gross, I’m not letting you anywhere near me. All the blood and…and…well, stuff.”

Hands on your hips, you stubbornly remain standing at the foot of the bed, shaking your head at Brady. He tosses his phone onto the mattress and gets on his knees, crawling down the bed towards you. “Sweetheart, a little blood doesn’t bother me,” he waves his hand in the general vicinity of his face, where a cut across his nose is still healing after he took an elbow to the face two games ago. The resulting nosebleed had been fairly epic, to hear him tell the story. “Plus, I want to help you. Let me help you feel better.” He sits back on his heels and wiggles the same hand in the air, fingers splayed. “You know I’m good with my hands.”

He is REALLY good with his hands. And your poor swollen cunt throbs a little, arousal building low in your stomach despite everything else happening in your body.

“I’ll make it good for you, sweetheart,” Brady promises, looking earnest as hell. “If it doesn’t work, we can go back to Advil overdoses.”

Reluctantly, and chewing at your lower lip, you nod. “Okay, yeah, I guess we can try it,” you sigh. Truthfully, you’ve never tried to orgasm yourself to pain relief with your periods. It always felt so messy and gross.

Brady nods and hops off the bed, “I’ll be right back.” He disappears out into the hallway, leaving you standing at the foot of the bed, wondering just what you’re getting yourself into. You can hear a closet opening and closing and then Brady’s back, holding an old, but still semi-plush towel in his hands. He pushes the comforter on your bed to the side and spreads the towel out. You look at it and wrinkle your nose. This is going to be such a mess. But another cramp sends your stomach into a spasm and you grit your teeth. Okay, whatever it takes to relieve some of this pain.

“Come on,” Brady’s hand rubs wide circles over your back. “I’ll prop up and you can lean against me, okay?”

You nod and Brady’s on the bed, in the same position he had been before - propped against the headboard and legs spread wide so there’s room for you. “I’m keeping these on,” you huff, snapping the waistband of your shorts before crawling onto the bed. “It’s already going to be a mess, I want to keep everything contained.”

Brady laughs, “we both know it’s not the first time I’ve made you come while you’re fully clothed.” He pauses, smirks. “And it won’t be the last time.”

Your face heats up again and you push gently at Brady’s shoulder, “shush, you. This is so embarrassing.” You gingerly settle in the vee of Brady’s legs, stiff and sore. He kisses the crown of your head and gently tugs on the back of your sweatshirt so you’ll relax back against his chest.

“Why are you embarrassed?” He asks, running his hands over your thighs and up your hips. Your stomach clenches a bit when he slowly works his hand up your shirt and brushes his knuckles against your abdomen. He knows not to go any higher than your waist, that your breasts are so sore you’ll cry if he touches them, but he touches everywhere else. “I told you, I’m thirty years old. I’m not grossed out by your period, sweetheart. I hate that you’re in so much pain and if I can do anything to help,” one hand slides down the front of your stomach and his fingertips dip beneath the waistband of your panties, “I’m going to.”

His fingers slide lower and you tense a little, knowing he’s going to hit up against the pad and even though he’s so chill about it, you’re not. “Relax, sweetheart,” Brady murmurs into your ear, kissing your cheek. “Let me take care of you.” You nod faintly, forcing yourself back against Brady’s broad chest, feeling the hardening ridge of his erection against your lower back. That helps, and when Brady’s fingers finally start to stroke your swollen, sensitive flesh, you shudder a little and then relax completely. His movements are maybe less firm than usual, his fingers slipping around a little more. He takes his time, finding your clit easily and circling it with the tip of his index finger.

“Oh, Brady,” you gasp his name, sliding down his chest a bit, opening your legs wider so he has better access. Your eyes flutter closed and Brady’s free hand rests on your left inner thigh, holding it open.

“Doing so good, sweetheart,” he mumbles, angling and reaching forward. His middle finger is at your entrance, carefully pressing inside. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

You shake your head. Heat is building in your stomach, the throbbing between your legs overtaking the pain of your cramps. “Not enough,” you sigh, breaking off into a little gasp when Brady’s thumb presses a little more firmly over your clit. You blink rapidly, his fingers slipping too easily from where you need him. “I…more…s’fine. Put your fingers in me, Brady, please.”

Brady’s middle finger slides in, deeper and deeper until the knuckles of his other fingers are pressed against your folds. “Whatever you need,” Brady says, running his other hand over the outside of your thigh. Your legs start to tremble and he pumps his finger and out of you, sliding easier than he normally would with just your arousal to help. You try not to think about the kind of mess his hand is going to be covered in. He crooks the finger and taps against your inner wall and your stomach clenches.

“Oh!” You gasp, clenching around his finger. “More, Brady. I’m so…I need more.”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, taking his free hand and brushing your hair off your face. He kisses your neck, sucking gently while he wiggles his ring finger up next to his middle finger inside your cunt. His thumb ghosts over your swollen clit and you bite back a moan, grinding down on his fingers. “Come on, sweetheart. You feeling good? Tell me what you need.”

“Faster,” you whine, your stomach tightening with every pump of Brady’s fingers. The sound his fingers are making as they work in and out of you is obscene even when it’s partially muffled by your shorts, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when it feels so good. Brady wraps his free hand around your thigh, pulling it open slightly so he has more room to work. His hand is trapped by the constraints of fabric and can only move so fast. But the pace he’s pumping into you is perfect. His fingers slide deeper inside of you, pressing against your g-spot and your toes curl against the mattress, a low wail escaping from your lips. You clamp your mouth shut, face flushing hot with embarrassment at how loud you’re being.

Brady keeps pumping his fingers, murmuring in your ear, “go ahead, sweetheart. Be as loud as you want while you come for me. Scream, let me hear you.”

He flicks his thumb over your clit and you scream his name, your entire body going taut as he works his fingers harder, bringing you right to the edge. Your orgasm builds low in your stomach, a coil of heat and tension. His fingers curl and you finally let go, surrendering to the wave of pleasure that loosens your entire body. It’s not the strongest orgasm you’ve ever had, but it’s strong enough, making your brain a little fuzzy and sending endorphins rushing through your veins. Your head drops back against Brady’s shoulder and he peppers your exposed neck with soft kisses. He mumbles terms of endearment against your skin, encouraging your orgasm with his words as his fingers continue to work you through the aftershocks.

You slump back against Brady’s chest and his free arm wraps around your waist. “Feeling better, sweetheart?” Your legs are a little shaky and you stretch out, inadvertently clenching around Brady’s fingers.

A satisfied hum leaves your throat even as Brady sucks in a breath from the feeling of being knuckles deep in your cunt. His cock stirs against your lower back and in the back of your mind, you feel a little bad for him, that he’s going to have to use his hand in the shower. But your cramps have settled to a minimal ache that’s completely bearable, so you tuck your head under Brady’s chin and mumble, “thank you, baby. That was perfect.”

“Happy to be your personal orgasm provider,” Brady chuckles, pulling his hand from the waistband of your shorts. You wince at the blood that streaks his skin, reddish-brown and dripping down to his wrist. Behind you, Brady shrugs a little and wipes his hand on the towel under your bodies. He kisses the side of your head. “Sweetheart, gotta clean up for a minute. I’m gonna go clean off and uh, take care of something.”

The ‘something’ is pressing insistently against your lower back and you manage a soft hum of empathy as you lean forward so Brady can slide off the bed. He snatches the towel out from under you in one smooth move, balling it up in his hands. “Mhm, clean your hand and come back, I’ll take care of you,” you offer sleepily. The orgasm has your head fuzzy and your entire body relaxed.

Brady kisses your forehead and you slump against the pillows. “Take a nap,” he grins against your skin. “I’ve got this.”

You hum again, wriggling against the warm sheets. Brady chuckles lowly and you hear him pad off into the bathroom. The shower turns on and you can imagine Brady stripping down to nothing, his cock jutting out proudly, stepping under the spray and gripping himself. Your clit gives a faint throb at the mental image - honestly, it could be a memory with how often you’ve had sex with Brady in that shower - and you press your thighs together. Now that your cramps have faded away and the initial embarrassment and awkwardness of sex on your period is cleared from your mind courtesy of Brady’s fingers, you’re feeling horny. Mingled with the sleepy haze, you can’t really do too much about it except press your thighs tighter together and listen to Brady’s grunts and moans that the running water can’t cover up. You press your face into the pillow, wiggling and clenching around nothing, biting down hard on your lower lip when Brady’s strangled ‘fuck!’ echoes from the bathroom a few moments later.

The water shuts off and you’re feeling more awake, the fuzz in your brain from the orgasm fading away. You can hear Brady moving around in the bathroom and he emerges a few minutes later in a cloud of shampoo and Dove soap scented steam. He’s back in his grey sweats and black t-shirt, with the towels balled up under his arm. His hair is damp, darker than usual from the water, and slicked off his face, which is tinged pink from the hot water. Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him, all of your blood pooling between your legs.

“Thought you were gonna nap?” He says, eyes twinkling.

You manage to shake your head. “Not sleepy,” you say, rolling onto your side.

Brady’s grin is teasing as he comes to stand at the side of the bed. “Guess I didn’t do my job well enough,” he jokes, leaning one knee down on the mattress, making it dip under his weight. His warm, broad palm comes to rest on your cheek, thumb swiping over your cheekbone. “Let me throw on a load of laundry and order some dinner for later, then I’ll come back and cuddle, okay?”

“Okay,” you sigh, leaning into his touch. You lick your lower lip and Brady tracks the movement, but says nothing. He nudges your cheek with the knuckle of his index finger and heads out of the bedroom. You watch him leave, eyes locked onto his stupidly firm ass. With a frustrated exhale, you slump further back into the pillows, surrounded by Brady’s scent. You yawn, surprising yourself with how quickly your energy levels shifted the second Brady was out of the room. You let your eyelids flutter shut, figuring you’ll just get in a quick little nap before jumping your boyfriend.

By the time Brady slips back into bed, you’re more than halfway to sleep, eyes closed and limbs loose. He settles himself on his side of the bed and you gravitate towards him naturally. “Warm,” you mumble, tucking your head under his chin and pressing the tip of your nose against the hollow of his throat. Brady’s arms tighten around you, the best kind of weighted blanket.

“Ordered Chinese for later,” he tells you quietly. “With extra fortune cookies.”

“My hero,” you grin sleepily against his skin. He’s really so warm, like a personal radiator, and you sling your leg over his hip, notching your core against his groin without really comprehending it. The stretch feels good on your sore hip and lower back muscles and Brady slots one leg over yours, his muscled thigh pressing gently against your cunt. He can feel the warmth of you through the leg of his sweats and his cock twitches behind the fabric.

“Anything for my girl,” he says, stroking your hair and back, lulling you right to sleep in the warm cocoon of his embrace.

It’s not a very long nap, less than half an hour, but you wake up feeling semi-refreshed. Your cramps are starting to increase in intensity again and you’ve shifted while you slept so that you’re pressed flush against Brady’s half-hard cock, leg wrapped snugly around his hip. His thigh is pushed against your cunt, making it throb. He smells so fucking good and one of his hands is resting low on the curve of your ass. You wiggle experimentally and Brady laughs above you, his chest vibrating.

“Was wondering how long you were gonna sleep,” he says, bringing his hand over your hip to run against the outside of your thigh. “You’ve been making these little noises,” he continues and he sounds half tortured. “Little sighs and grunts. Feeling okay?”

You can’t think, not with his thigh in between your legs, his cock nudging against you. Your stomach flips, not with the cramps though, and you grind yourself over his thigh. Brady’s hand moves to grip your hip, helping guide you over his thigh. He laughs a little, “guess I have my answer. You want more than this, sweetheart, or you just want to use me?”

“I don’t know,” you tuck your chin to your chest, your forehead pressing into the hard edge of his collarbone. Your hips move and it feels good but it’s not enough, not with the extra layer of your pad between you. You can’t get enough friction and you whine low in your throat. “Brady, need you, please, I don’t…” you babble, trying to figure out what you need even as heat builds low in your stomach. The hand that isn’t on your hip falls to your ass and kneads gently, his fingers digging into your skin.

Brady drops a kiss to the crown of your head and mumbles, “okay, sweetheart, I’ll take care of you. I’ve got you.” He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You plant your palms flat on his chest and grind brazenly against his cock, sighing happily at the increased pressure. His hands grip at your hips and he helps you grind down harder, “this good for you, sweetheart? You going to get off like this?”

You shake your head against his chest - no, this isn’t enough for you. It feels good and the tension is building in your stomach, a gush of arousal and, likely, blood flooding between your legs. It’s like the feeling of sneezing on your period, but worse and you almost hate it. “Can I - can,” you stumble over the request, knowing that it’s gross, starting to feel embarrassed again. “Ugh,” you frown into his shirt, rolling your hips against his like a teenager, “I need more, Brady.”

He nods seriously and lifts you gently off of him, setting you on the mattress. When you whine at the loss of contact and grab at his shirt, he clicks his tongue and says, “trust me, I’m going to give you everything you want. Just gotta get another towel, okay?” He untangles your fingers from his shirt and kisses your fingertips before practically hopping out of bed and beelining for the linen closet. He’s back before you can process, laying out the towel and pulling you to the edge of the bed. Brady tugs at the waist of your shorts, “these are coming off and then you’re gonna tell me how you want it. You want me on top or is that going to be too much?”

His voice is soft with concern for your pleasure and a shiver works its way down your spine. You wiggle your hips and reach for the waistband of Brady’s sweats, curling your fingers beneath the fabric. His cock tents the front of the sweats, a perfect imprint in the fabric for you to stare at. Brady’s big and he knows it, knows that when he gets going it’s a pleasure-pain sort of stretch. When you ride him it’s a little easier to control the pace and how deep he can hit. A cramp ripples through your lower stomach and back and you wince, making a decision.

“Wanna be on top,” you chew at your lower lip, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of Brady’s sweats and brushing against the coarse hair at the base of his cock.

“Whatever you need, baby,” he grins, certainly not going to object to having you ride him. He hisses when your fingertips graze his cock, twitching under your touch. He pulls you to your feet and wraps his arms around you in a tight hug, the pressure easing some of the soreness in your body, before ducking his head to capture your lips with his. You melt into his arms, licking at his lower lip until he opens his mouth for you. Liquid heat rushes through your body, warmth pooling low in your stomach. Brady deepens the kiss and moves a hand up to tangle in your hair. He tugs gently, manoeuvring your head to the side so he can change the angle of the kiss.

You sigh into his mouth and Brady turns so he can sit down on the bed after he breaks the kiss. “Pants off, sweetheart,” he grins, scooting back so he’s sitting on the towel, his back against the headboard. He tosses all the pillows to the other side of the bed so they can stay clean.

Your heart is still pounding in your chest from the kiss and you only hesitate briefly before you shimmy your shorts down your legs, kicking them off your ankles and off to the side. “You next,” you grin, another flood of arousal pooling between your legs when Brady gives you that cocky smirk you love so much. He pulls his shirt off over his head, discarding it to the floor and messing up his hair. A few strands fall over his forehead and he makes no move to brush them to the side. The fading sunlight glints against the greys and another pulse of desire throbs through you.

His hands fall to his crotch and he grabs at himself through the grey fabric, emphasising just how big and hard he is. With a groan, Brady grinds his heel over the base of his cock through the fabric, a little damp spot from his pre-cum turning it a darker grey. He makes a show of it, pulling the waistband of his sweats down one side of his hip and then the other, the red, leaking tip of his cock appearing above the elastic. You lick your lips again and Brady lifts his hips off the mattress so he can pull his sweats down further, tucking the band under his balls and letting his cock spring free. He’s thick and hard and curves towards his stomach. His balls are full and heavy looking, resting on the band of his sweats and it’s stupidly erotic, the fact that he’s keeping his pants on.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he says, wrapping his hand around his cock and pumping a few times to get himself as hard as possible, “sit on it and I’ll make you feel good.”

Even as arousal floods between your legs, you hesitate, thinking of the mix of blood there as well. “You’re sure?” You ask, twisting your fingers in the sleeves of your sweatshirt. Brady’s hand is still wrapped around his cock and you can barely focus on anything other than the pre-cum leaking from the red, angry looking tip. Your clit gives a painful little throb in time with a twinge of a cramp in your lower stomach. Your body knows how it feels to have that broad head of him push past your folds and it’s reacting.

Brady leans forward, his hand falling away to rest on the mattress, “hey, if you don’t want to, I’m good. It’s whatever you’re comfortable with, sweetheart.” He smiles, eyes crinkling up at the corner, “I’ll make myself presentable and we can watch TV or something.” His cock bobs in his lap, bumping up against his stomach and to his credit, Brady barely winces at the sensation against his sensitive tip.

His willingness to go along with your mood changes only makes you want him more, so before you can second (or third) guess yourself, you rush into the bathroom to wiggle out of your panties and get rid of the pad, hurrying back into the bedroom with your thighs clenched together so you don’t get anything on the carpet. Brady’s lips are pressed together to suppress a little laughter at the way you’re moving and you roll your eyes at him. “Laughing at me isn’t very nice, Mr. Skjei,” you huff with faux annoyance.

Brady opens his arms and cocks an eyebrow, “I would never laugh at you.” His gaze drops between your legs and you flush hot.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you grumble. “I’m not wearing pants.”

“That’s exactly why I’m looking at you,” Brady teases in a low voice. He pauses and mutters, “oh fuck,” before leaning to his side, reaching for the drawer on his bedside table. “Should’ve done this while you were in the bathroom,” he mumbles, withdrawing a condom.

“It’s like you’ve never done this before,” you tease with a giggle, watching Brady’s movements like a hawk. His fingers deftly tear into the foil and wrap around his cock again so he can roll the condom over his length. He pumps himself a few more times and it seems like his cock swells in front of your eyes, filling the latex obscenely. You press your thighs together tighter, throbbing and ready to sit on him.

He mock glares at you, “making fun of the man who’s planning on giving you multiple orgasms to help your cramps is a low move, sweetheart.” He crooks his fingers at you. “Now come here so we can get to work on that pain relief.”

Your stomach tightens and you shuffle over to the bed, awkwardly trying to get up onto the mattress without dripping everywhere. “Brady…” you can’t help the little whine that escapes your lips and he takes pity on you, leaning onto one hip and wrapping his hands around your waist to haul you up on the bed. You kneel at his side and throw your leg over his lap, straddling him with your back to him. As soon as you open your legs, it feels like a tidal wave of liquid, even though you know that’s not how it works. At worst, a few drops of blood and arousal make their way down your inner thighs and you know they’ll be stopped by the fabric of Brady’s sweats. Even still, you feel impossibly exposed.

“What are you doing?” Brady asks, smoothing one hand down over your ass cheek and giving it a quick squeeze. His other hand is warm on your outer thigh. “I don’t get to see that gorgeous face?”

“No,” you huff, hovering over him with your knees planted on the mattress on either side of his thighs. “I don’t want you that deep, it’s going to hurt.”

“Okay,” Brady kisses behind your ear, “whatever you need, sweetheart.” He grips the base of his cock in one hand and rests the other hand on the curve of your hip. “Ready?”

You nod, chewing at the inside of your cheek, your inner thighs already trembling. Brady lines himself up at your entrance, the broad head of his cock nudging against you. You sink down on him with a sigh, the stretch of him filling you forcing all the air from your lungs. Behind you, Brady grunts at the feeling of you sinking down on his cock, his grip on your hip tightening. His hand pulls away from his cock and he gets a solid grip on your hips, making sure you don’t sit on him too fast, giving you time to adjust. Inch by inch, you take him, bracing your hands on his thighs in front of you.

“There you go, sweetheart,” Brady rasps an encouragement in your ears, holding your hips like his life depends on it. “That’s it, let me fill you up.”

It’s so easy to have him slide into you, easier than usual due to the extra slickness from your period. You can feel the mix of your blood and arousal drip down your thighs, surrounding his cock.

You babble his name, gasping when you sink down onto the final few inches of him, your ass making contact with his lap. He’s fully sheathed inside of you, thick and hard, still so deep despite the position that you imagine you can feel him all the way up to your throat.

Brady’s still underneath you, the fabric of his sweats rubbing against your thighs as he lets you get adjusted. You lean back against his chest carefully, the underside of his cock rubbing pleasantly against your swollen clit. A soft whine works its way up your throat and Brady’s hands trail from your hips down to the inside of your thighs, pulling gently to open you up further. “No, no,” you mumble, “too wide. Too much.” You squirm on his lap, trying to catch your breath from just the sensation of Brady keeping you full.

“Doing so good, sweetheart,” he kisses your neck, gently rolling his hips up into yours, making you gasp. Your nipples tighten into painfully hard points, desperate for Brady’s hands. “Tell me what you need.”

You grind down on Brady’s cock instead of responding, slowly riding him to build up the coil of pleasure in your lower stomach. You clench around him and Brady grunts into your hair again, fingers flexing around your thighs. “Fingers, Brady, I need…” you mumble, head thrown back to rest on his shoulder. “More, need more friction.”

The slow glide of his cock in and out of your cunt, against your clit, is pleasurable, but not nearly enough. Brady’s fingers are on your clit in the next second, pinching gently, and you gasp out his name, arching your back and forcing his cock deeper into your cunt. “Yes, yes, there. More…please, B-brady!”

“So fucking wet, baby,” he murmurs, one hand on your hip to help you ride him. His fingers work deftly over your swollen clit, sliding around easily. He bends one knee, planting his foot on the mattress and driving his cock even deeper.

You yelp, leaning forward to brace yourself, fisting the material of his sweats. “Stop, too deep, too much,” you whine, pushing at his knee so he’ll flatten his leg again. He compromises, straightening his leg a bit, but still keeping it partially bent. You breathe heavily, panting as you ride Brady’s cock. Pleasure builds in your lower stomach, hot and tight, growing as Brady’s fingers keep sliding over your clit, his cock thick in your cunt. He glides his hand over your back, down over your ass cheek, kneading your flesh.

“Come on, baby,” he encourages you in a strangled voice. “Use my cock. Know you can do it.”

You grab Brady’s wrist, holding his fingers against your clit, pressing down for friction and Brady takes the hint, rolling your swollen nub between his fingers, keeping his hand in place between your legs. Still gripping his wrist, feeling his muscles and tendons move under your fingers, you bounce on his cock. The sound is obscenely wet, filling the bedroom, louder than your breathless little moans and whimpers. Brady’s hand is tight on your hip, guiding you up and down on his cock while he presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to the side of your neck.

“Brady, please, faster….I need….” you break off, chanting his name when he bucks his hips up into yours, meeting you thrust for thrust. His cock swells inside of you, painfully thick, and you reach down with your free hand to stroke at his balls, skimming your nails over the sensitive skin. Brady moans against your neck and his hand moves from your hip, wrapping his forearm around your lower stomach, adding more pressure and guiding you to lean forward slightly. Your nipples brush painfully against the fabric of your sweatshirt and you yelp, clenching involuntarily around Brady’s cock.

He thrusts up into you, thumb planted firmly on your clit and tears roll down your cheeks from the simulation, grinding down on Brady’s pelvis. You let go of his wrist and brace yourself on his thighs again, leaning forward and bouncing on him, the underside of his cock sliding against your clit. That, combined with Brady’s fingers, sends you over the edge, black spots dancing in front of your vision as your orgasm rips through your body. You chant Brady’s name, barely coherent while you rock on him, his cock hitting deep. Brady’s palm presses flat against your lower stomach and you let go, feeling your body gush around his cock.

“So good, sweetheart,” Brady murmurs, sounding dazed. “Keep riding, honey, take what you need.”

You cry out when he thrusts up into you, overwhelmed by sensation, but don’t stop circling your hips over his. Your brain is melted into a puddle of sensation, all of your nerve endings on fire as you clench around him again and Brady’s abdomen tenses. He hauls you flush against his chest when he finishes, shouting your name and filling the condom with cum. He reaches down and grasps the base of his cock, pumping himself into you and filling the condom faster. The warmth of it is different than when you decide to forgo the condom, but you still hum happily in Brady’s arms, stretched wide over his cock, your thighs trembling on either side of his lap.

“Brady…” you mumble his name, turning your head to bury your face in his neck while he fills the condom. Your hands grasp at his forearm wrapped around your waist and he peppers your face with soft kisses, grunting into your mouth when he’s wrung dry.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he mutters against the corner of your mouth. “Got carried away at the end,” he brushes his knuckles against your sensitive clit and you shiver in his arms. “So fucking hot and wet.”

“S’okay,” you slur your words, your body coming down from the orgasm and leaving you limp against Brady’s chest. “I liked it. Felt good - feels good,” you amend, clenching absently around Brady’s softening cock. Every thought and sensation other than being filled up by Brady is gone from your head. He laughs against your skin and you can feel him wipe his hand off on the towel under his ass.

Your thighs and ass feel wet, sitting in a mixture of blood, your arousal, and Brady’s cum, and you wrinkle your nose a little, shifting on his lap. You can’t help but look down at Brady’s lap and you regret it almost immediately. His lap is soaked in your combined fluids, the grey of his sweats stained red. His cum is leaking out of the condom, out of your cunt, and dripping down his balls to pool on the towel. “Oh, Brady!” You yelp, less drowsy now, trying to scramble off of his lap. “Your sweats, the towel!”

Brady adjusts his grip on you so you can’t go very far. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve never liked these sweats anyway,” he jokes, gently manhandling you so he can slide out of your cunt and pull off the condom. He ties it off efficiently and makes no comment about the mess of his hands and lap.

“Well I liked them,” you pout, cheeks heating up for a different reason. “This was such a mess.”

“Are your cramps gone?” Brady asks, carefully swinging his legs to the side so he can stand up. You’re still pressed close to his chest, on your feet too now, thighs pressed together to prevent anything getting on the floor. The towel on the bed looks like a crime scene. Brady lets go of you briefly so he can tug his sweats up to rest on his hips, but then his hand is on your hip again, nudging you towards the bathroom.

“Yes,” you reply, toddling on shaky legs.

“Then it was worth it,” he leans down to kiss your cheek. “Get in the shower, I’ll clean up and join you.”

He tosses the condom in the wastebasket and wipes his hand on his thigh - the sweats are clearly a lost cause - before he reaches out and swiftly pulls your sweatshirt over your head. You shiver at the cold air on your sensitive nipples and Brady grins at you, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. You wrinkle your nose, but nod, bracing yourself for Brady’s tongue to flick gently over one nipple. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he presses a soft kiss to the swell of your breast. “You know I feel bad not paying attention to your entire gorgeous body.”

Despite the sensitivity, both nipples tighten just from Brady looking at them and you resist the urge to cross your arms over your chest. He’s seen everything, there’s no point in being embarrassed. You reach behind you and turn the shower on, making sure the knob is on a high temperature. “Don’t even bother trying to save the towel,” you sigh, “just toss it.”

“That was the plan,” Brady winks, kissing your forehead before disappearing from the bathroom. He leaves the door open behind him and once you step into the shower - groaning in pleasure when the scalding hot water hits your sore muscles - you can see him in the mirror, wadding up the towel and stripping the sheets from the bed. You really hope the sheets aren’t ruined since they’re beyond comfortable.

“Just swapping them for fresh ones,” Brady calls out to you, apparently a mind reader now.

You smile to yourself and focus on scrubbing shampoo into your hair, the eucalyptus scented steam relaxing your entire body. By the time you’re rinsing and repeating, Brady’s stepping into the shower behind you, sliding warm broad hands over your waist. He leans in and brushes his nose against your ear, lips ghosting over the sensitive skin at the hinge of your jaw.

“Hi,” you giggle, wiggling a little in his grip. Your legs are shaky.

“You smell good,” he mumbles, massaging at your lower stomach. You lean into his touch, still trying to work shampoo into your hair.

“I always smell like this,” you reply, ducking your head under the spray and letting the suds wash down your body. Brady’s fingers trail along with the soap, drawing lazy patterns against your wet skin. You shiver under his touch, unsurprised when the familiar tingle of pleasure starts at the base of your spine, in between your legs.

Brady notices the subtle move of your thighs and he lets his fingers trace the crease of your thigh, his chin resting on your shoulder. “Smell like mine,” he murmurs. “My girl.” His fingers move to the left, mere inches, and tease at your entrance. The tip of his middle finger circles your clit, still swollen and sensitive and you can’t believe you’re about to let him give you a third orgasm.

“Brady,” you gasp his name a little, closing your eyes against the sensation. Your hips cant towards his fingers, chasing his touch.

“Sweetheart,” Brady groans against your neck, his cock twitching against the back of your thigh. “Gotta let me feel you. No mess in the shower.”

He continues to slowly, gently circle your clit, making your brain fuzzy again and your knees week. You press a palm against the shower wall to hold you up, but there’s no chance of falling, not with Brady’s arms wrapped securely around you. You whine when Brady’s finger slips inside your cunt, curling gently.

“Feels good?” He asks, massaging at your lower stomach with his other hand. You nod against his shoulder. “Good,” he continues, “just want you to feel good.”

Brady’s usually chatty during sex, but this feels different, his words alternating between concern and filth, his fingers working their way over your clit. You can feel yourself dripping for him, slick and hot. “Brady, Brady… p-please,” you hiccup the words when he grinds his hardening cock against the split of your asscheeks. “Give me more.”

You plant both of your hands on the wall and widen your stance, feeling Brady line himself up at your entrance. The broad head of his cock slides through your folds, entering your cunt with an easy roll of Brady’s hips. You moan his name, still stretched out from earlier, so the feel of him inside of you is just pleasure. He kisses a hot trail over your shoulders, sucking gently at your pulse point, laughing when he can feel your heart skip a beat at the feeling of his fingers pressing against your clit.

“Feels so good,” he groans, thrusting into you, more gently than you’d expect. The drag of his cock against your inner walls has you clenching around him, arching your back, pressing your ass firmly against his pelvis. One of his hands holds your hip in place while he thrusts and the other snakes down your stomach to play with your clit. Brady’s fingers bump up against his own cock and he grunts, choking off the noise. You can feel his cock twitch from the contact.

Honestly, if you had known that being on your period would make the both of you this horny, you might’ve given in to period sex months ago.

Brady drives his cock into you deeper, punching air from your lungs in a sharp gasp. Your head falls forward, chin to your chest, and you watch with hazy vision as Brady’s cock splits you open. Water drips down your face, into your open mouth, nearly drowning you until you spit a little, angling your face away from the stream.

You’d barely come down from your last orgasm when Brady shuffled you into the shower, so it’s easier for him to build up this one. Pleasure works it’s way through your body, your clit throbbing under Brady’s touch, and before you know it, before you can really focus on it, he’s bullying that third orgasm from your body. Fingers and cock working together to send you over the edge. “Come on, sweetheart,” Brady talks you through the orgasm. “Go ahead, scream, cum on my cock.”

You shriek his name, fingers scrambling on the wet tile for purchase as Brady rocks his hips up into yours, rolling your clit between his thumb and index finger relentlessly. Nonsense words spill from your lips while Brady keeps up his pace and it’s only a few more heartbeats before he’s tightening his arm around your waist, his stomach muscles pulling taut, and spilling inside of you. He groans and drops his forehead to your shoulder, his hair flopping forward and brushing your skin. Brady’s fingers only stutter in their movements when he jerks to a finish inside of you and by then it’s too overwhelming so you reach down to push his hand away, whining that it hurts.

“Sorry, sorry,” Brady mumbles against your shoulder, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss there. He pulls his hips back a little, his softening cock slipping from your cunt and releasing a flood of his hot cum down your inner thighs. You shiver at the sensation, rubbing your thighs together a little and looking down to see the drips of blood and cum wash off your legs and down the drain. “Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shake your head, dizzy and exhausted. Brady’s palms skim up your stomach and sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts, and he turns you so he can kiss you on the mouth. You melt into his touch, warm and pliable for him. Brady kisses the corner of your mouth again, a soft little peck, before he says, “okay, let’s get you cleaned up for real this time.”

A mumbled noise of agreement leaves your body and Brady keeps you propped up with one thick arm around your waist while he gently soaps you up and helps you rinse off. He gives his own body a quick scrub, paying extra attention below the belt, giving you a little smirk when you watch him clean himself up. You lean against the shower wall on shaky legs, letting the hot water keep you warm. You watch him shower, muscles bunching under his skin, and blurt out, “god, I love you.”

Brady rakes his hand through wet hair, slicking it off his face, and looks at you with warm brown eyes. “I love you too, sweetheart,” he grins. He leans forward and brushes his lips over your forehead before turning the water off and reaching an arm out of the shower to grab one of the big fluffy towels that wait for you. He wraps you up, rubbing his hands over your arms to warm you, and once he’s confident that you’re grasping the towel around your body, he gets a second towel to wrap around his waist. From there, you let yourself be taken care of - Brady leaves you alone in the bathroom to grab you a pair of panties, handing them to you with a knowing smirk, before leaving again so you can get yourself settled with a pad. He’s dressed in a pair of boxers and a worn out University of Minnesota t-shirt when you eventually pad into the bedroom after lotioning up your entire body.

“Sweats or shorts,” Brady holds up both items of clothing and you reach for the pair of his joggers that he offers, wanting to be bundled up and cozy even though it’s not that cold out. You step into the sweats while Brady attempts to pull one of his shirts over your head, only for you to get tangled up in the fabric, blinded by the cotton, and tip forward with a little squeak of surprise. Brady grabs you before you can fall onto the bed, hands hot against the bare skin of your waist. “Ah, shit! Sorry, sweetheart,” his voice is muffled from the fabric around your head and you wiggle from his grip, tugging the shirt down so you can breathe again.

“You already killed me with orgasms,” you huff on a laugh. “No need to actually try and kill me.”

Brady laughs and lifts his hands in the universal sign for surrender. “I’ll let you handle getting dressed,” he chuckles. “Undressing you is my specialty anyway.”

You snort a laugh, managing to get yourself dressed and comfy, the sleeves of Brady’s shirt hanging over your hands. “No more undressing tonight,” you sigh, twisting your wet hair into a loose knot on top of your head before crawling into bed. “I’m tapped out, done, ready for a pile of lo mein the size of my head and a solid eight hours.” You fluff up your pillows and draw the comforter into a little nest shape around your body, curling up like a cat and yawning so wide your jaw cracks.

“Lo mein, I can promise since the delivery should be here any minute,” Brady replies, looking at you with a soft smile on his face. “Eight hours of sleep? Well, if three orgasms doesn’t wear you out enough, I’ll go for four tomorrow.”

You shoot him a sly little smile, even as your eyelids fall slowly closed. “four orgasms? Might have to start complaining of cramps all month long.”

Brady’s laughter fades out as he heads downstairs to check if your food’s been delivered. You snuggle into your little nest of blankets, feeling warm and impossibly relaxed, like all the stress and tension’s been completely removed from your body. You’re pleasantly sore between the legs and you stretch out a little, impatient for Brady to return so you can eat and cuddle up against him.

The mouth-watering smell of Chinese food precedes Brady’s return and you pop up into a sitting position like a cartoon animal, wide awake. Your stomach growls a little too. Brady laughs loudly at the expression on your face. He’s got two white cartons in his hands, a bottle of Gatorade under one arm, a wad of paper towel tucked in the crease of his elbow, and two pairs of chopsticks stuck into the top of one of the cartons. “You’re wide awake now, huh?” He asks, handing over one of the cartons and snatching his hand back like he’s afraid you’ll chew it off. He settles down next to you with his own carton, placing the Gatorade and napkins down on his bedside table.

“I am suffering, Brady,” you inform him primly, shoving a wad of noodles into your mouth and chewing happily.

“Poor thing,” your boyfriend pouts at you, taking a bite of his orange chicken. “And here I thought I helped you so much.”

You swing your legs over to drape over Brady’s thigh and lean in to kiss his lower lip. “Oh, you helped very much,” you grin against his mouth. “You’ve been such a big help.”

Brady laughs into your mouth. “See, now I know you’re teasing me, sweetheart. I might not be so generous with my help next time.”

You fake a gasp, “you wouldn’t!”

“Nah, you’re right, I wouldn’t,” Brady leans in to whisper against your ear, “not when I know how needy you are on your period. Or how easy it was to slide into that sweet, wet cunt.”

Lo mein noodles slip off the end of your chopsticks and your entire body flushes with heat. “Brady…” his name leaves your mouth on a shaky exhale and he laughs, rests his hand on the inside of your knee, and leans back against the headboard. His thumb draws lazy circles on the inside of your knee and you shiver a little.

“I’m here for your free use, sweetheart,” he offers, toasting you with the carton of chicken and rice. “Just say the word.”

You kick lightly at the outside of his thigh with your heel, still flustered. “Insatiable,” you murmur, unable to deny the flutter of interest in your lower stomach at Brady’s words.

“You love it,” Brady counters, feeding you a piece of orange chicken. You hum, not about to lie to him, and lean forward to get closer to the heat Brady’s radiating off his body. You’re both quiet for a bit while you eat, trading bites off each other’s chopsticks. You sip at your mostly warm raspberry Arizona, starting to feel sleepy again from the food and the warmth off Brady’s body. You don’t even realize that your head is drooping forward to rest against Brady’s bicep until he gently takes the mostly empty carton from your hands and sets it on the bedside table.

“Hey, time to sleep a little,” he says softly, lifting your legs off his lap and straightening them out so your entire body shifts.

You hum, eyes shut, and press your face into your pillow, scooting around and getting comfortable. Brady pulls the comforter over your chest, making sure your back is covered and you’re cocooned in the warmth. You reach out a hand from the covers and grab Brady’s wrist, wiggling your fingers until he laces his fingers with yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth and kisses your fingertips. “I’m going to clean up, get some stuff ready for tomorrow, and I’ll be back,” he says against your fingers.

“Best Brady ever,” you mumble through a yawn, hearing his chuckle.

He strokes a piece of hair off your forehead and you’re passed out before he can let go of your hand and climb out of bed.

Cuddled under the covers, you don’t quite manage an uninterrupted eight hours of sleep, but when you wake up in the middle of the night with Brady’s entire body wrapped around yours, legs tangled together, heartbeat thumping steadily under your cheek, you don’t really mind.

#brady skjei #brady skjei x reader #brady skjei x you #brady skjei fic #brady skjei imagine

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