#life jacket with crotch strap

[bouncyalex]

Wanna join in the swimming pool? ☀️

There are 3 rules:

1) Must wear a life jacket. 🛟

2) Must wear swim diaper. 🩲

3) Have fun like a kiddo. 🙃

[golden1u5t]

birthday boy | s.r x fem!reader

ꨄ requested: anonymous

ꨄ genre: smut

ꨄ summary: it’s spencer’s birthday and derek’s birthday gift to him is a trip to the strip club and private dance. 

"she's pretty nice, huh?" derek put his hand on spencer's shoulder but the poor boy was too mesmerized to do anything other than nod his head. derek shook his head as chuckled, turning around to head back to the bar and leaving spencer to continue watching you dance on the stage.

spencer watched you intensely, studying how gracefully you twirled on the pole, how you arched your body to give the audience a show. he had seen strippers before, he was from vegas after all, but he had never seen one move like you, never seen one as pretty as you. when derek first pulled him into the club he was sure he was going to hate it but when derek had left his side to go mingle with whatever pretty lady he could find, spencer had no choice but to find a seat and his attention was immediately drawn to you when you walked onto the stage.

unfortunately, your dance had come to an end and you were leaving the stage. spencer frowned as he watched you leave, he was ready to leave himself as the only reason he stayed was now walking away. he let out a small huff and stood up, he scanned the area until he spotted derek leaning against the bar. 

"i'm ready to leave now." spencer shouted above the loud music as he pulled his jacket back over his arms. derek turned around to face him before downing his drink and taking spencer's jacket back off, he wrapped his arm around him and started guiding him to the back of the club.

"not just yet, pretty boy. the night's not over." he flashed him a toothy smile as they approached the private rooms, he opened the door and shoved spencer in before he could let out any complaints. "enjoy your dance."

spencer looked around the dimly lit room, taking in his surroundings, as he walked over to the chair that sat in the middle of the room and sat down. he was confused but he trusted derek with his life so he stayed put. soon enough, the door opened and as you walked in spencer flushed a shade of pink, he watched you close the door behind you and walk further into the room.

you walked over to the speaker that was on the table and connected your phone, you hadn’t looked at him yet since you had been focused on fixing the strap on your outfit when you first came in.

"do you have a song request?" you asked as you  scrolled through the music on your phone. when he didn't answer you, you turned around to look at him. you immediately recognized him from your dance, he’s a hard person to forget. “i noticed you out there. you were with your friend, right?

"you did?" spencer’s voice shot up an octave, he rubbed his sweaty palms on his slacks and cleared his throat. you set your phone down on the table after you turned on your go to song and walked closer to him. as soon as you stepped into his space he could smell your perfume, you smelled better than he could’ve imagined and he could feel his blood shooting south already.

"how could i not? you were the only one that sat through the whole dance without leaving and you were the only attractive one, too." you walked behind him and ran your hands over his shoulders and down his chest. spencer went rigid as you felt down his body, his breathing was irregular and you noticed that.

"you've never done this before, have you?"

"no-no, today's my birthday."

you hummed and walked around the chair, swaying your hips in tune with the music. spencer's heart nearly burst out of his chest when you sat on his lap, his hands remained firmly at his sides.

you reached back and cupped his head, starting to move your hips on his crotch.

spencer gasped at the friction, his eyes fluttering closed. He was dying to touch you, his hands twitched every so often as you moved yourself on him.

soft groans and whimpers fell from his lips even though he tried his hardest to contain them. you were used to the men, sometimes women, making sounds while you danced on them but they never got you going like how spencer was. you found yourself grinding on him longer than you usually would have, pushing him to make more of those beautiful sounds.

you turned around in his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, all professionalism was gone and you couldn't care less. spencer eventually gave up on trying to keep his hands to himself, he grabbed at your hips as his own lifted from the seat. before he realized it, his cum had started to seep through his boxers.

you had to get off of his lap before you tried to fuck him right then and there. you smoothed down your mini skirt and cleared your throat, walking over to stop the music playing.

"i don't- i-" spencer tried to gather his jumbled thoughts and form a complete sentence but he just couldn't, not after what just happened. he opted to just stand up and head to the door, wanting to get out of there as soon as possible, but you stopped him before he could leave.

"here's my number." you pulled him by the belt loops and pushed the card into the waistband of his pants. "i'll be waiting for a call, birthday boy."

[icky-rickyy]

Joy Ride

Motorcyclist!Logan x Motorcyclist!reader

I am currently obsessing over street bike tik tok. Taking a short break from my multi part I am writing to supply this beauty.

Rated: E for everyone.

Should I do a part2

“Do you really think this is a good idea?” Marissa, your roommate spoke from her bed. She was laid in snuggly under the covers, chin tucked to her chest and cell phone resting on her abdomen as she dedicated the first half of the day to ‘doom scrolling’ as she called it.

“Yeah why not? I never meet anyone, and I never get to show off. I haven’t gone on a joy ride in months.”

You were tugging the zipper of your armored pants up, making sure they were fastened tightly to your body.

“You’re going to go cruising into a bike meet? A male predominant space and expect to get treated like one of the guys? Your tits are out!” She inched up in her bed, resting her back against the headboard.

“The last time I went to a bike meet was with Ethan. And I went as a backpack. I didn’t even have my own bike to show off, I was just eye candy while riding bitch and holding on to him.”

“And I look better on a bike when my tits are out anyways!” You looked down the front of your white cropped top, tugging the bottom hem down.

“Are you going by yourself?”

“Well….. no. I was going to ask Ethan to meet with me. Buutttt, if you wanna play backpack then I won’t invite him.” You were pulling on a thin zip up jacket, zipping it only a quarter of the way.

“I am so sorry but this is my only Saturday off all month, I am not getting oogled at and then being scared for my life while you drive recklessly.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“Kay fine. Don’t be mad when I come home with some biker hottie and we’re knockin boots all night.”

You grabbed your helmet from the end of her bed, tucking it under your arm with a firm slap to the top of it.

“Don’t die, and don’t get any STD’s!” She cheered after you as you headed through your apartment to the front door.

You dialed quickly on your phone, tucking it between your ear and shoulder as you pulled your keys from your pocket. It only took two rings before it answered.

“Uh hello?”

Ethan was on the other side, asking pensively.

“Are you going to the bike meet at the abandoned Jiffy on 10th?” You hung your helmet on the handle bar of your bike, swinging your leg over to mount it.

“Yes. How do you even know about that?” You could hear him shuffling on the other line.

“You’ll see. I’ll be there in 20.”

You hung up the phone quickly, locking it on to your phone stand and reaching for your helmet. You pulled it on over your hair, tucking the loose strands up in the back before fastening it tightly around your chin.

The bike roared to life beneath you, and your heart settled happily in your chest. You were excited for the evening, ready to see what the rest of the day could hold.

You weren’t even sure where to park.

The abandoned parking lot was already half filled with bikes of all shapes and sizes. Riders stood talking to one another while others stayed perched on their motorcycles simply observing or scrolling on their phones. There were at least 30 people stood waiting, and the meet wasn’t meant to actually start for another 10 minuets.

You tried not to shy away from peering eyes as you rolled into the large group of people, looking for an open spot to put the kickstand up on your bike and put it in park.

There was an open spot next to an older model Harley, the owner stood leaning against his bike puffing a half smoked cigar as he looked to the others suspiciously.

It was a stark difference, your bike next to his.

His classic looking motorcycle next to your lilac purple crotch rocket. Dark black leather next to pink and white accents and flashy rims.

You pushed the kickstand down, staying mounted on your bike as you fiddled with the helmet strap. Your hair fell from its tucked in position, setting your helmet on the gas tank and pulling your gloves off to run your hands through your messy helmet hair.

You tried not to look at the man next to you, watching his eyes scan as his large chest huffed with each inhale of his cigar. He had a leather jacket folded on the seat next to him, clad in a white beater tank top and bootcut jeans help up by a large silver belt buckle. His arms were big and muscular, covered by a vast sea of body hair. A tickle of the dark hair peeked up past the neckline of his tank top and teased at the base of his throat.

He looked many years you senior, and hot as fuck.

“Hi, nice to meet you.” You stuck your hand out to him sheepishly, introducing yourself.

“Logan. Like your bike.” He nodded down, eyes narrow with a stern look on his face. His words were curt but friendly.

“Right back at ya.” You chuckled back, pausing your next sentence when your phone began to ring in your pocket.

“Sorry.”

You dismissed yourself, answering Ethan’s incoming call and pressing it to your ear.

“Hey. Yeah. I’m next to an all black Harley. It’ll be hard to miss me. Yep. See you here.” You pushed your phone back into your pocket after ending the call, adjusting your seating on your bike.

Logan was still looking around, watching people walk past and nodding to the few that gawked openly.

A group of girls still wearing their helmets were walking by, whispering and squealing quietly to themselves at the sight of your bike. They all came by to swoon with you, asking where you got it and identifying questions you weren’t unfamiliar with answering.

You could hear the signature roar of Ethan’s bike as he approached, the girls standing near all making a clearing as he pulled in behind you and parking his own bike. He dismounted, swiftly pulling off his helmet.

“Wow. I’m impressed. You might have just out done me.” He stood with his hands on his hips, watching as you pulled your leg over your bike approaching him with a hug.

It had been nearly six months since your breakup that you had last seen Ethan. You tried a few times after the initial ending of your relationship to rekindle, but it never seemed to work out.

“I didn’t even know you got a bike.” He held you proudly by your shoulders, stepping back and putting his hands to his side when the group of people around the two of you finally registered in his brain.

“Well I was tired of being a backpack, what can I say? This is your fault though. You started this addiction.” You laughed open heartedly to him, watching him nod with a smile.

“Well I have a few buddies here to catch up with, but I’ll cruise with you when we get going later.”

You nodded as a quiet response to him, smiling as you watched him walk away and into a group of guys that all hugged and high-fived him happily.

“Boyfriend?” Logan asked from next to you.

You had almost forgot he was there, looming quietly from his bike.

“No.” You laughed to him. “Ex. This is actually the first time we’ve seen each other in months.” You pulled your phone from your pocket again, sending Marissa a quick text that you had arrived safe and sound.

“His loss.” Logan muttered quietly, pulling a final drag of his cigar. You looked over with a flash of shock, watching him smirk as he flicked the tobacco to the ground and stomped it to ash.

All you did was nod with a shy smile, looking to your street shoes and kicking a loose pebble around.

The entire group of bikers waited for another 10 minutes before everyone loaded up. You pulled on your gloves and helmet again, tugging the strap tight and hopping back on to your bike. Ethan mounted his behind you, you both shared an excited glance before you flicked down the visor of your helmet. Logan pulled on his jacket, climbing onto his bike without any protection. He smirked over to you, you blushed behind the darkness of your helmet.

Your whole body was vibrating in excitement when the group of bikes roared to life. There were at least 50 of you. It was too hard to count when the front of the group sped from the parking lot and out into the street.

Ethan replaced Logan’s spot on the side of you, keeping steady pace as you all began to race down the pavement. Logan followed shortly behind.

Passer-bys in their cars all gawked at the lot of you, heads swinging on a swivel as the singular headlights went by in a flash.

The group was picking up speed, going through main traffic until you took enough turns and ended up on an open paved backroad.

Evening was dwindling down, and the traffic was decreasing by the minute. This left the wide open pavement to the entire fleet of motorcycles to cruise in and out of the two lane road.

People were synced up to each others helmets, talking joyfully through about their lives while others shared music with each other in a collective jam session. You typically would enjoy far too loud music while riding, but you left your ears open to hear the herd of rumbling bikes race down the streets and to pick up on any important or urgent comms messages.

Logan managed to squeeze in between you and Ethan, his classic bike groaned and rumbled deeply as he yanked on his throttle in show. You laughed aloud at his ego display, looking between him and the road as he smiled brightly.

Logan leaned over as much as he could from the distance between you, sticking his hand out in invitation. You veered your bike closer to his, placing your hand in his open palm. He clasped his hand around yours, pulling your gloved knuckles up to place a soft kiss upon them. He squeezed your hand before sending you a wink and letting go.

You put your hand over the mouth of your helmet, tilting your head to mock grace at his chivalry. He threw his head back in a laugh, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.

When you both quit giggling you watched Logan’s eyes flash dark with mischief. He scanned the area quickly, locating and calculating the closest bikers before he yanked down on his throttle.

His bike was absolutely screeching, hollering in a deep grumble as he pulled down harder and shifted gears. He was flying through the group, weaving in and out of everyone as he accelerated through them all.

You were almost shocked, watching him navigate the group with ease. You watched a few people flash back to you with confusion. You decided, why the hell not, and yanked down on your throttle just as hard.

The wind was whistling against you as you leaned down into the tank of your bike, feeling yourself accelerate even faster with the aerodynamics. It was a flash of headlights and rainbow colored modifications as you passed each biker swiftly in urge to catch up with Logan who was now coasting freely at the front of the group.

Your comms system was catching nearby voices, hearing them whisper in confusion or holler in excitement.

Logan was looking back as often as he could when he heard your bike accelerating behind him, a wide smile on his face when you finally caught up. You flipped up the visor of your helmet.

“You tryna race?” You yelled over to him.

He shook his head from side to side. “Not tonight doll, just wanted to show off a little.”

“Maybe next time?” You inquired with a smile, watching him roll his eyes playfully.

“Yeah, maybe next time.”

It was nearly 10 pm when you all returned back to the abandoned parking lot. Many of the bikers wished a good night as they broke up from the group to head home, the others followed back and were now parked in the meeting spot. Most were walking around in the light of the street lamps engaging in conversation or perusing the parked bikes in admiration.

You’d mainly went back to bid a goodnight to Ethan and then head home, to thank him for showing and for inspiring you to chase this particular fulfillment in your life.

It’s was hard to ever consider a time when you didn’t have a bike. From the moment you met Ethan and you began riding tandem with him, you were obsessed. The adrenaline, the quick feeling of flying through the open roads, the deep contentment that settled your soul and helped you sleep at night.

“Thanks again.” You confirmed to him, seeing his bright smile underneath his helmet. He held your shoulders kindly and his bright blue eyes shimmered down in pride.

“I’m proud of you. I hope you know that.”

You could have teared up at his endearment. Sometimes you wondered what it would have been like if this managed to work out with him.

“Thank you. Let’s plan another time to meet up, maybe without the other seven million people.”

Ethan nodded in confirmation with a laugh, pulling you in for one last tight hug before separating to head to his bike parked nearby.

He waved to the group and his friends as he drove away on his bike, peering out into the road before he filtered into the straying traffic and was gone in a flash.

Logan had still loomed by, leaning against his bike and finishing another cigar. You were ready to leave and head home, but felt compelled to talk to him.

“Thanks for the fun tonight. This was my first ever meet solo and you, uh, you just made it a lot better.” You stuck out your hand as a formality.

Logan reached out and shook it, his large hand wrapping around your gloved one like earlier.

“Thank you for playing along. Recklessness can get boring.”

You chuckled in response, nervously tucking your hand into your pocket and looking to the ground.

“Hey?” Logan asked, tentatively reaching for the bottom of your helmet. He tugged you closer, tilting your head up to look up at him.

“Let’s do this again, just you and I? Next week on Tuesday work?” He puffed a cloud of smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

You nodded wordlessly.

“Meet here? 10 am?”

You nodded again.

“Perfect. Good night, and get home safe doll.” He released his grip on your helmet, watching you stay frozen in shock. He stomped out his cigar like he did earlier, mounting his bike swiftly.

You watched in awe as he rumbled it to life. He sent a flirty wink before pulling up his own kickstand. Logan flew out of the parking lot and into the street.

“Oh fuck me.” You groaned, flicking down the visor of your helmet and mounting your own bike to head home.

[le-trash-prince]

KimKenta enigma induced not-quite-heat WIP

look at me posting a WIP snippet on an actual Wednesday

This may change a bit before the final piece is posted. I’m not yet halfway through this (maybe not even 25% idk LOL), and there’s a lot of nuance I’m going to have to navigate in the editing process

smut under the cut.

Edit: finished fic here

___

"I don't know, I- it's Pete, I think I'm- I think I'm in heat," he babbles. He finds himself pawing at Kim's jacket. "I need- you have to get away, Kim."

Kim grabs Kenta's wrists and forcefully pins them against the car, making Kenta gasp in pleasure. He's already so hard. "Have you been through this before?” Kim asks. Kenta makes a small sound of denial. “Okay. We need to get you to a heat center," Kim says.

"No," the word rips itself from Kenta's throat as he frantically shakes his head. "Tony can't know." 

Kim gives him a long, hard look, and then nods. Kim understands, he has to. He's seen Kenta's scars. He knows what Tony deals in. It can't be hard to put together, what would happen if Tony knew. The hypocrisy of his own fear makes bile rise in his throat. "Fine. But I'm not leaving you here. Let's get you somewhere safe."

"I'll hurt you," Kenta whimpers, even as his selfish heart soars at the thought of Kim staying with him. 

Kim just sighs as he slings one of Kenta's arms over his shoulder to help him to his feet. "If you wanted to hurt me, you'd have done it by now."

That's a lie, Kenta thinks. He remembers the look on Kim's face as the elevator doors closed between them. I've hurt you plenty already.

"Why are you helping me," Kenta mumbles, as Kim buckles him into the backseat. He should be resisting, he should be pushing Kim away. He doesn’t deserve to be helped.

"I'm just returning the favour," Kim replies. "Don't touch that seatbelt," he orders, pointing a stern finger at Kenta.

Kim's direct order to stay put is the only thing that keeps Kenta's sanity tethered enough that he doesn't try to unbuckle himself and crawl into Kim's lap. Even with Kim running the A/C on full blast, the other alpha's scent fills the contained space of the car. This is nothing like a rut. Kenta's ruts are usually mild—and rare to boot. He doesn't get rowdy like many alphas do, although he can be snappish. But this, this is an all-consuming desire ripping through him, driving every thought from his mind except the need to have Kim's cock inside him. He's so hot, so hard it hurts. 

It's terrifying, feeling his self-control slip through his fingers. Desperately, he focuses on the pain. Perhaps it is enough to simply be here, strapped down, his hard cock tenting his pants, tortured by Kim's overwhelming musk. To look, but not to touch. Perhaps this suffering is all he deserves.

"Does it hurt?" Kim asks quietly, his eyes still on the road. 

Kenta blinks, unused to being read so easily. "Yes," he replies weakly.

"Then touch yourself," Kim says, his gaze flicking up to meet Kenta's in the rearview mirror. “Get yourself off.”

Kenta finds himself helpless but to obey. "Fuck," he whimpers, as he palms his crotch. He grinds his hips against his hand, not even bothering to unzip his pants. The shame of it floods his veins, and he doesn’t think he’s ever come this quickly in his life.

Kim doesn’t look at him once until they park.

[capypub]

Without Warning - Mafia!Joel Miller Scene 13

Mafia!Joel Miller x OFC

Rating: M (a little spice, violence, language)

AN: Next chapter is the final one. I'm ready to wrap this one up and maybe have a few "slices-of-life" scenes in the future.

Summary: Joel holds a meeting and gathers his forces, setting a giant target on the back of the man who touched his girl.

Masterlist

She knew something was going on when he came downstairs dressed in all-black, not only that, but an all-black suit. Her mouth was watering at the sight, seeing Joel so cleaned up, hair styled back, mustache trimmed. The sleek material of his jacket accentuated his broad shoulders and thick arms. His gun was strapped to his side, per usual, and she had to admit that seeing him so cleaned up and simultaneously deadly, it was becoming more and more of a turn-on. 

“Down, girl,” he said with a smirk, noticing her hungry gaze and how hard she was biting her lower lip as she looked him up and down like her next meal.

“You just look…really, really, good, baby,” she said, slinking over to him with a purpose, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her body into his. 

“Yeah?” he indulged her, “the suit doin’ somethin’ for you?” he teased, wrapping one arm around her waist, closing his eyes to momentarily enjoy her mouth on his neck and nips at his earlobe. 

“Makin’ me so wet,” she purred in his ear, her hand slipping between them to squeeze his crotch, eliciting a hard grunt from him.

“Fuck, darlin’,” he groaned, closing his eyes, his arm tightening around her waist. 

“Wanna make you feel good, Joel. Please?” she went on, pouting up at him, making his mind short-circuit as she continued to rub his stiff cock over his pants. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re a lil’ minx, ain’t you, baby girl?” he chuckled darkly, grabbing her wrist and pulling it off him. 

She was grinning blissfully as he spun her around, taking both her wrists in one hand and holding them behind her back. He heard that little laugh that signaled she was close to mentally checking out already, prepared to be fucked senseless however he wanted. Bending her over the back of the couch, grinding slowly into her ass with his covered cock, hearing those gorgeous whines of desperation from beneath him. 

He couldn’t help himself, not when it came to her. Something about her just forced all reason out of his brain so that all he could think about was her, them.

“Gonna be a good girl, baby? Gonna come all over my cock?” he teased, rutting into her as he squeezed her hips tightly.

“Yes, yes, I’ll be so good for you, please,” she gasped, arching back into him, eagerly trying to meet his thrusts. 

“That’s right, baby,” he growled, pushing up the material of her dress, squeezing the swells of her ass. 

Before he could pull her panties down, a door slammed shut somewhere in the house. Startled out of his lust-fueled haze, Joel righted her clothes in record time, pulling her back up and against him just as Eric entered the room, head down as he texted on his phone.

“Oh, shit!” he startled, nearly dropping his phone, “Thought you’d still be gettin’ ready, boss,” he said, glancing between the two, noticing Indi’s pink cheeks and Joel’s rigid jaw, like he walked in on them either fucking or fighting. 

“Car ready?” Joel asked, clearing his throat, his hand still holding her wrists together behind her back, Eric remaining oblivious by the way he positioned her against his chest.

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded, handing Joel the keys. 

Joel cracked his neck before nodding at the other man to go, which he did immediately to escape the tension in the room. He lowered his mouth to Indi’s ear, her body much too warm to be comfortable, already so worked up and he’d barely touched her. He fucking loved it. 

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you, just be good ‘nd patient for me,” he said lowly, kissing over her pulse point on her neck before releasing her hands. 

The ride was quiet. Eric stayed in the backseat, mindlessly on his phone while Joel drove. He kept his hand on her thigh the entire way, always looking for some way to touch her, to demonstrate that they belonged to each other. They arrived at the Bison, finding multiple cars already parked outside, nearly filling the parking lot. Indi waited for Joel to come around and open her door, having learned quickly that for some reason the idea of her touching a car door handle greatly offended him to the point he was genuinely upset with her one day over it when she did it out of curiosity of his reaction. 

“Are you sure it’s a good idea for me to be here?” she asked softly as they approached the entrance. 

“They need to know who they’re protecting and who not to mess with,” Joel explained coolly, his hand on the small of her back. 

“You could’ve just shown them a picture,” she murmured, nervous about what was on the other side of the door. 

Joel chuckled. “Don’t you worry, baby girl, all you need to do is sit here and look pretty for me,” Joel said, repeating her own words to her, making her smile despite her nerves as Eric held open the door. 

To no one’s surprise, Joel took his unofficial table, pulling a seat out for her before easing into the one beside her with a slight groan from the stiffness in his back. Indi’s hand was on his leg, her body pressing into his side as she leaned to whisper in his ear.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, “back’s a lil’ sore today,” he muttered. 

She had a knowing smirk on her lips. “Did I go too hard on you last night?” she teased, her hand squeezing his thigh.

Joel rolled his eyes. “Don’t make me tie you up again,” he warned, smirking as his mustache grazed her ear.

“I might like it,” she fired back, her hand going to his crotch and squeezing lightly.

He chuckled darkly. “We’ll see, baby…” 

Indi noticed that none of those at the Bison were regulars when she cast her gaze over the room. Even the regulars were absent from those three last barstools. The entire time Indi had been working here, those three bar stools were occupied damn near open to close. It was strange seeing them empty. 

Joel was called over to the bar by Tommy, leaving her alone at the table with Eric lingering beside the table. She watched in fascination as all the eyes in the room were on Joel, ranging from curious to bored to envious. He commanded the attention of the room without trying, his dominance and power radiating off him in waves as he crossed the room to the small stage where bands occasionally played on the weekends. 

He stood directly in front of the stage, one hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other casually holding a glass of bourbon. The room went quiet, eerily quiet, everyone waiting for him to speak. 

“You all know why I’ve called you here tonight,” he said, projecting his voice confidently, “I’ve let this rat survive off my scraps for too damn long,” he continued, taking a step forward, his gaze steady as he looked across the room.

“You look like you could use a drink,” came Tommy’s hushed whisper as he slipped into the empty chair on the other side of her, sliding a drink into her hand. 

She smiled in thanks, feeling somewhat comforted by his familiar presence. Joel sipped from his drink, meeting her eyes briefly before focussing on the tables closest to him. 

“He’s done somethin’ unforgivable and for that…he sealed his own fate,” Joel continued, “We’ve located his base of operations and every one of his assets. You give me what I need and you keep the rest, drugs, guns, men, I don’t give a fuck, I just want David brought to me alive.” 

There were murmurs across the room. Indi shifted nervously in her seat. Joel stayed quiet, allowing his words to settle in. He took another slow drink, making his way through the tables until he came to a stop beside Indi’s chair. 

“Y’all know I could easily handle this myself, I’ve heard what people say about the Salt Lake City job,” he continued, resting his free hand on the back of Indi’s chair.

She looked up at him, but his eyes remained directed to the audience. 

“I’ll do it again, if I have to,” Joel shrugged, earning a few concerned murmurs, “But I can be generous. However y’all want to divide David’s shit is your business, how he dies is mine. Anyone unwilling to accept these terms and submit their loyalty can get the fuck out.”

He paused, counting to ten in his head, scanning the room for movement. Glancing down, he was met with Indi’s wide eyes, seeming unfazed by his declaration of committing murder and looking the other way as other criminals looted the victim’s stuff. Gently running his hand down the back of her head, he gave her a reassuring nod. 

“Those of you who’ve decided to stay, we’re movin’ tomorrow at 2100. Be expectin’ further instructions soon,” he said, “And until then, drink’s on me.” 

The tension in the room seemed to instantly evaporate after Joel’s offer. There was a brief chatter of approval. She didn’t know if it was because of this job or the alcohol. With a quick nod, Joel finished off his drink and sat back down, his arm draping over her shoulder. 

“Nice speech there, brother, coulda been a politician,” Tommy teased. 

Joel scoffed. “Don’ like wearin’ suits,” he muttered, scanning the room as the men began to move about towards the bar. 

They didn’t stay long. Joel did his part and now all they he wanted to do was leave. Tommy insisted he stay at least an hour, some of the other leaders wanting to talk shop with him or some shit. With Indi’s encouragement, he endured the hour, listening to proposals and groveling, all of it sounding like static. Indi was quiet beside him, sipping whatever fruity drink Tommy brought her, leaning into his side comfortably as she listened. He didn’t agree to anything from those that approached his table that night, mind too occupied with getting his girl home and breaking out the ropes, maybe the handcuffs too. 

“I hope you’ll consider my invitation, Joel,” the man currently sitting across from them said, “It would be a great honor, a man only hopes to marry his daughter off once, you know?” he joked, only earning a short dry huff from Joel.

Indi squeezed his thigh in warning, her actions hidden beneath the table. 

“I’ll look at my schedule,” Joel said, side-eyeing her as he spoke, annoyed with her insistence on sitting through this bullshit. 

“And perhaps you’ll consider me when your own ceremony approaches,” he added, sliding a sealed envelope, most likely the invitation to whatever birthday or baptism he had been blabbering on about for the past ten minutes before leaving the table, his own men trailing after him, “Miss,” he nodded at her as he departed. 

“Can we go now?” Joel sighed, cracking his neck as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“You need to work on your networking skills,” she said with a smirk. 

“Didn’t get to where I am by networkin’, sweetheart,” he grumbled, downing the last of his fourth bourbon and taking her hand, “Let’s go home.” 

“Does talking in front of people make you nervous?” she asked as they got ready for bed that night.

“No,” Joel responded from the bed, his shortness telling her differently.

She came out from the bathroom wearing his shirt and a pair of panties. “I think you’re lying.”

“I’m not talkin’ about this anymore,” he grumbled, settling onto his side and turning out the light on the bedside table.

“Public speaking is hard for a lot of people, baby,” she said softly after settling into bed beside him.

“Go to sleep,” he grunted, feeling her arm slip around his torso as she clung to his back. 

“It’s okay if it does make you nervous,” she continued, kissing his shoulder.

He didn’t respond, closing his eyes and releasing a deep sigh.

“I love you.”

With a huff, Joel turned onto his back and met her curious eyes. She wasn’t fazed by his grouchy expression, having grown fond of it throughout their relationship. Pulling her into his arms, he maneuvered them until she settled with her head on his chest, curling into his side with his arm around her. 

“I love you too, baby girl” he said gently, feeling her smile against his bare chest. “Now go to sleep.”

Chapter 14

[enviousmoons]

Day 13: Formal Wear

Words: 981

Tags: Suits, Office Party, Risky sex

Link: A03

Ryan almost couldn't take it anymore. Here they were, in the middle of some fancy, upscale party for his boyfriends publishing company, and all he could think about was how much he wanted to bend Alex over a table and rail him. His young stuff of a boyfriend looked fucking incredible in a suit, and Ryan was surprised how much the look had turned him on. In fact, he had spent a good chunk of the night sitting at their assigned seating, legs firmly under the tablecloth to hide the aching, throbbing erection that had plagued him for most of the night.

“Hey babe!” Came Alex’s bubbly voice, clearly more than a little inebriated, tugging a smile onto Ryan’s dour face.

“Hi, how's the party?” Ryan asked him, pulling on the collar of his button up uncomfortably.

“It's great! You should come join ussss” Alex whined,

“Ah, you know I'm not much of a dancer, pup” Ryan smiled awkwardly, inhaling slightly as Alex leaned closer, hand landing on his thigh for support, just inches away from his pulsing dick.

Alex locked eyes with Ryan, a sly grin forming on his face.

“You’ve been hard the entire night, haven't you?” He accused, a rough edge creeping into his voice as he slid his hand towards Ryan's pulsing cock.

“Since I saw you in that Jockstrap..” Ryan admitted, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

“That's adorable babe… well we can't have you like this all night, follow me” The younger man instructed him, hopping up from his seat just as his fingers brushed the head of Ryan's swollen dick. Slightly shocked at his boyfriends brazen attitude Ryan sat, mouth agape, for a few seconds before standing and stumbling after the sandy haired man.

Alex led him to a small corridor, ushering him into a supply cupboard. There was just enough room for the duo to move freely.

“Well big guy, what got you all riled up?” Alex said with a smirk, trailing a finger down his chest.

“Fucking.. seeing you dressed like that..” Ryan replied with a soft shudder, groaning quietly as his boyfriend stretched, showing off a small sliver of skin, and the happy trail that ran beneath his waistband.

“Oh? And what exactly are you gonn-” Alex’s cocky question was interrupted as Ryan grabbed the back of his hair and pulled him into an aggressive kiss, backing him up against the wall of the storage with a soft thump.

As his hands wandered, Ryan began to undo the buttons on Alex’s tight button up, exposing a smooth chest and rosy nipples, which he proceeded to take between two fingers, tugging and rolling them gently. This caused Alex to let out some delicious moans, which were quickly swallowed up in their desperate kiss.

“We don't have.. time for this” Ryan panted, leaning on the wall behind Alex “Aren't you supposed to give a speech in like, twenty minutes?”

Alex nodded sinfully, giving him a smirk that went straight to Ryan's dick.

“Yup.. and I'm gonna do it with your cum leaking out of me” He grinned, twisting in Ryan’s grip, his firm ass pressing backwards against the older man’s crotch.

Ryan just couldn't take the teasing anymore. He reached around, unhooking the button on Alex’s trousers and letting them drop, pooling around his ankles to reveal a firm, round ass encased only in the thin straps of his jock. Mouth practically watering, Ryan knelt, plunging his tongue into his boyfriends hole, finding it clean and inviting as he ate like he was starving.

“and yes, before you ask I did plan for this” Alex said between low groans of pleasure, legs shaking slightly from the stimulation. To prove his point, Alex reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, producing a small bottle of lube, tapping his boyfriends thigh with his foot to get his attention.

In a daze, Ryan rose, grabbing the lubricant and dropping his own trousers and boxers, releasing his throbbing cock to the stuffy air in the cupboard. He was harder than he had ever been in his life, cock throbbing needily. He groaned quietly, squeezing a small dollop of lube into his hand, then slathering it onto his shaft, thumb tracing the pronounced vein all the way down to his mattered silver pubic hair. He gently squeezed a similar sized blob onto his boyfriend's tight hole, pressing it into him with shaking fingers, before bracing himself against the wall again.

At first, there was resistance. A tight, wet heat that made Ryan's eyes roll backwards into his skull in pleasure. He could feel Alex clenching around him, even as the younger man shook and whimpered. He kept pushing forward, knowing Alex was nowhere near his limit yet, until eventually with a pop he slipped past any resistance and his hips settled against the blond’s backside. Conscious of the time, Ryan began to thrust in earnest, leaning forward and pressing Alex into the wall as he chased his steadily building orgasm.

It didn't take long before Ryan was pistoning his hips forwards, deaf to any noise the pair were making as his orgasm coiled in his gut. Alex, eyes wide and face totally blissed out, turned to look at him.

“Hey.. big guy, time to finish up, we only have five minutes.. now fill me up so I can go out in front of five hundred people while your cum leaks out of my battered hole..”

At these words, Ryan couldn't hold back anymore. Pushing forwards roughly, hilting himself fully in his boyfriend, Ryan came with a grunt, hips shuddering as his boyfriend slowly pressed back against him to make sure not a single drop was wasted.

As he softened, pulling out, Ryan wiped the sweat from his forehead, checking his watch.

“Shit.. babe you gotta go get ready! I'll clean up in here, you just go!”

[pb-dot]

Time to nerd out about Miike Snow

Well, about the music video for the Miike Snow song Genghis Khan at any rate. In addition to accompanying a very catchy song, this one is a real powerhouse of storytelling on the visual side. I figured I'd try to break it down a little and explain why it's so cool to me. Part of me wants to include a bunch of pictures with this thing, but the post is long enough as it is, and it's hard to capture the motion and cuts with those, so I'll stick with words. For those of you who want to follow along at home, the full video is below.

The music video opens on a dolly shot backward, showing a line of henchmen as our protagonist, The Villain enters from camera right. We only see him from behind at this point, and his uniform and stiff gait past the henchmen make him seem like a boss or commander of some sort. His bald head in the high collar jacket also reads as "bond villain" a fair bit, but I couldn't quite tell you why.

The fact that we can't see his face is underscored by the next cut, which goes from a portrait to a landscape shot while remaining at an angle where we can't see the face of the villain. His Bond heel-bonafides are confirmed when his gait turns to a strut and he approaches The Agent, strapped to a table with a laser pointed at him. Despite this being a rather notable thing to encounter, the villain turns his back to the captured agent to fiddle with some nonspecific Evil Science stuff, and we get a closer look at the agent who, for his part, looks rather distressed at the sound of the laser warming up.

On the reverse of the above shot, we get our first glimpse of the villain's face as he turns partway to look back at his quarry but seemingly changes his mind and turns back to increase a dial before we can see more than one of his eyes and a facial prosthesis or covering of some sort over the nose. The shot reverses to the agent again, putting the very shot we just saw in his perspective as he strives to see what the villain is up to. In a wide shot we see the laser glowing red as the song enters into its chorus.

Timed perfectly with the start of the chorus, the villain turns to face the agent to deliver the refrain. "I get a little bit Genghis Khan, don't want you to get it on with no-one else but me" We see that his nose and part of his left cheek, brow, and forehead are covered in some sort of plating, the scars around it seems to hint that it's covering some old wound. The villain is in his element now, caressing some plier, implicitly a tool of torture although the agent shows no signs of being tormented physically as of yet.

In the shot following, the villain twirls past the laser table towards an approaching man in a lab coat. He is having the time of his life, showing some personality that was suppressed in the stiff march past his subjects. In the following shot, he snatches a device from the man in the labcoat and dismisses him with another dancer-like turn. It is some strong acting on the part of Adam Jones who plays the villain here, how absolutely hostile he is to anything offering even the slightest distraction from his elaborate Goldfinger-setup.

A few shots follow taking us and the villain back to the laser table. The laser sizzles, and in a close up we see the agent look at the laser and seem a bit shocked, which I think is interesting. Granted, this could also be fear shown a mite too suddenly, but I like the read that the agent kind of forgot about the death laser aimed at him for a moment. We cut to a wide to see the laser seemingly aimed at the agent's crotch and then close on the villain as he prepares to press the button on the device.

With an obnoxious beep, the "end of shift"-alarm and the close-up of the clock reading 5:00 sharp heralds the end of the workday. We close up on the agent who strains to identify the source of this new noise before we see the villain and the laser table in a wide shot. The villain is disappointed, we can see his shoulders sag, the climax of his plan won't happen today. A close-up of the villain's face confirms what we surmise, he can't believe this bullshit but believe it he must. He moves out of frame matched with a wipe cut to a domestic scene.

The apartment has white walls and a frosted glass door, through which we can see a by-now familiar bald shape. Two children read in the kitchen and wave at their homecoming father. It should be noted here that the apartment has a kitchenette but has a separating wall between the kitchenette and the living room. The effect, further enhanced in the reverse shot over the villain's shoulder as he enters, is to imply a separation between him, his children and his wife, ostensibly the classical homemaker. Close up on the villain's face as he smiles. It's an awkward smile, perhaps feeling the separation on more than a physical level.

At the kitchen table, the villain is unresponsive, leaning back unlike his wife who leans towards their children. In a close-up, we see his thousand-mile stare. A reaction shot from his wife tells us she notices it too. Later that night when the couple has gone to bed, things aren't much better. The wife lies asleep, facing away from her husband, who is sitting upright in bed, funnily enough still wearing his military-style villain jacket. A close-up of his face tells us his mind isn't on sleep. The next shot is of the agent, trying his level best to get some sleep on the surely uncomfortable laser table. We return to the villain, cementing that these are his thoughts we're peeking on.

The villain grows agitated and gets out of bed, match cut to back at the underground lair, where the villain spins into the frame and, in a wide shot showing both him and the still restrained hero, pull out some very Fred Astaire-inspired dance moves to the second chorus. A close-up of the agent tells us he doesn't quite know what to make of this level of emotional intensity as the villain spins to the opposite end of the room and, in a separate shot, has a small tantrum against a concrete pillar. The dance continues, verging somewhere between elation, mania, and frustration in energy. The dance only ends when the villain again snatches the control device from his lab-coated underling and commands a secondary lab-coated underling to fiddle with the evil science stuff to get the laser to work. No more distractions.

The agent reacts with fear as the laser turns on again, and the villain struts to his side, cherishing the moment. As he goes to push the button, something in him stops the action, the dramatic flourish to push the button turns into the villain touching his own head in confusion. He disappears into the background. In a close-up of the device, we see two buttons. The red "kill" button and a green button whose label is obscured by the villain's thumb. "I want to make up my mind but I don't know myself, no I don't know myself" the villain sings as he anguishes over the device. He moves his thumb showing the label of the green button reading "release," the option he always knew was there. This doesn't have to end, the agent doesn't have to die, and he doesn't know if he wants that or not. Cherishing the chase more than the catch, the villain presses the green button, causing the laser table to relinquish its hold on the agent.

We see the agent escape with the villain in the foreground, he is out of focus, but placed on one of the natural focal points on the screen, and his acting makes it clear that he is carrying the weight of his choice. He didn't like it, but he stands by it. In the background, the hero springs from his restraints and is briefly menaced by the villain's henchmen, before the villain turns and orders them to halt and dismiss the entire thing. Let the man go. After briefly hesitating, perhaps sensing yet another trap, the agent moves to escape the lair.

In what I consider a truly heartbreaking 3/4ths shot from behind, the villain turns away from the camera dejectedly, the slight hesitation like he's hoping against hope that this isn't the end.

Fortunately for the villain, he isn't the only one feeling uncertain. In a shot mirroring the villain's concrete pillar tantrum from earlier, the agent hesitates, should he flee? Does he even want to? "I want to make up my mind but I don't know myself, no I don't know myself." As he does make up his mind, the chorus hits, and it's the agent's time to sing and dance. "I get a little bit Gengis Khan," he mouths as he descends the stairs he fled up mere seconds ago, a spring in his step. We cut to a reaction shot from the villain as he turns back, baffled, surprised, and overjoyed. Letting go wasn't the end after all! He turns his entire body around with a genuine smile, a sort of answer to the insincere one from earlier. In a series of wide and half portrait shots, we're shown the two dancing, their choreography joyful and more Fred Astaire-like than ever.

In a closeup of his face, the villain arrives home and smiles warmly at his children, now situated on the same side as him of the separating wall with his new husband, the agent, coming round from the kitchen to greet him. Another shot of the two dancing in the lair curtain wipes into a shot mirroring the dinner scene from earlier. The villain and the agent are both engaged in dinner and conversation, the villain is leaning forward in his seat and is smiling without any appreciable effort. We get a closer look at a pair of matched portrait shots of the agent and the villain, smiling their little effortless smiles of joy. Another cut to dancing in the lair underlines show off more moves and implies a passage of time, intercut with the two of them reading in bed, content and at peace.... until a zoom-out shows us the view of the two of them through some sort of surveillance camera of some sort, a black-clad figure looms over the surveillance equipment. A reverse shot shows us the villain's (now ex-)wife, staring daggers at the recording of the happy couple as she delivers her icy "I get a little bit Gengis Khan, don't want you to get it on with nobody else but me" setting up a sequel hook of sorts.

So, why is this so effective? Part of it is the sheer economy of the shots in this little short film. Needing to tell a story of some emotional complexity in a silly and fun way in a mere 4' 07'' is difficult, and one of the tools used here is making every picture count. Every time we cut to a new angle or new subject, it's to convey more information. Emotions are conveyed both in the acting and the camera work and composition.

Let's take the short segment where the villain disables his laser and turns away from the agent as an example. It's not just the act of freeing the agent from his bonds that is happening here, it's the villain giving up on what he has. The alternative is to kill the agent, and that's not what the villain wants, he cherishes the chase, the thrill, and the banter that would surely be there if the very catchy Miike Snow track didn't dominate the soundscape. Believing that the only way he could have that was by keeping the agent prisoner, he effectively sacrifices that because he can't stand to hurt the agent and prepares to slink back into the darkness as an unloved opera phantom-style menace. It's better to have loved and lost and all, but it still sucks to lose.

All of the above is communicated in 9 shots over approximately fifteen seconds. To be clear, this isn't me guestimating what's happening here, this is the story the pictures tell. That's a lot of emotional strife to communicate in a short time, but the filmmakers succeed. Part of it is no doubt being 100% willing to write and perform a love story between a secret agent and a James Bond villain where they find each other through their shared love of choreography, but there's also something to be said for the efficiency of film language here. The effect of the "villain turns away from the camera and from love"-shot is amplified by matching the movement from the previous shot, where the villain waves off his minions and turns away, thus making this withdrawal implicitly a consequence of the previous action, he's turning away because he allows the agent to escape, and he's verklempt about it. In nerd-ass film theory we call this thing about shots taking meaning from the preceding shot in sequence the Kuleshov Effect, and there's no denying it works.

So I hope this was interesting to anyone else but me, to borrow phrasing from today's song. It feels a bit "Cinematography 101" to me, but that's maybe not a bad thing. I had a whole bunch of thoughts about this music video, and I'm not sure I'll get into this kind of breakdown with other stuff, but if you'd like to see more of this, do feel free to let me know.

Oh, and Genghis Khan is a good song. I guess that also bears saying.

[kessielrg]

Beside Me, Naked

Summary: In which Michel and Forsynthia share a shower. Rated T for nudity, but nothing really sexy or graphic happens; mostly practice for myself on more intimate scenes and flirtations. Started in 2019 as a fanfic that ended up getting names changed for the sake of giving the characters a new life.

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,928 words

-

It didn't quite dawn on Michel what he and Forsynthia were about to do until after he shut the bathroom door.

“A-are you sure about this?” he asked her, despite the young woman already in the process of taking off her bolero jacket.

She turned to look at him with an inquisitive eyebrow raise. “We've already seen each other naked.” she pointed out as if it wasn't a big deal. “Are you sure about this?”

Michel swallowed back dry saliva as he honestly considered backpedaling. Forsynthia hadn't been wrong, they have seen each other unclothed on several, very mundane reasons since she moved in with him. But for the first time in their relationship, they were going to share a shower. It was going to be (tight? close?) far more intimate than what the two have done so far. Sex didn't particularly appeal to either of them, and their kisses were always light gestures that lasted only a moment.

While Michel weighed his options, Forsynthia only stared at him with her brilliant blue eyes. They held no judgment (she knew full well how he was raised) but to him they seemed to sheer themselves into the back of his head. That was the thing about Forsynthia- she trusted him enough to have followed him to the bathroom, and she loved him enough that if he didn't want to share a shower, she would let him walk back out. It was in her gaze that Michel started to undo his jeans and slide them down his hips.

“Is it because of Winthel?” Forsynthia asked as she started to take off her tank top. For a moment, Michel had to flinch. Of course his overbearing mother would be brought up when both he and his girlfriend were half naked, about to wash each other's bodies in incredibly close quarters.

“No.” he said, more to remind himself than to answer her. “I'm just afraid of… of…?”

What was he afraid of again? He loved her, and trusted her. So why was he so afraid?

“You don't even have genitals.” the young woman brazenly pointed out- she had been in the process of taking off her skirt and was now staring right at his crotch. She came back up with a teasing smirk. “I think we're good on that front.”

A deep red flush shown through Michel's fur as he turned his body from her- as if it would prevent her from seeing the body parts that clearly were not there. He then stuck her tongue out at her to show that her comment had no effect on him. Forsynthia laughed as she made her way to the shower's faucet handle.

“How hot do you want the water to be?”

“What ever you want it to be.” he replied, unbuttoning his shirt, “My fur can handle most extremes- I usually have it on cold so I don't run up the heating bill.”

“Gotcha.” came the agreeing nod.

By the time Forsynthia had gotten the shower up and running, Michel had fully been unclothed. She turned back to him and moved a bit closer before requesting, “Can you help me take my bra off?”

For a moment, everything in Michel's body froze. “S-sure.” he agreed. With shaking hands, the goat monster removed the bra from the clasps and gently removed the bra off of Forsynthia. Free from the garment, Forsynthia turned around to face him once again. She almost laughed at him.

“You look like your mother caught you in her sock drawer!” the young woman teased. So he did, with his face red hot, his eyes staring at her in a milky daze, and her bra straps laced in between his finger tips. But he hadn't quite registered her for a moment- he was too in awe of her tiny form. Forsynthia stood a whole head and some shorter than he was- some days it felt like she was a little fairy compared to a massive giant. Most of the time he was afraid of hurting her because of how small she seemed. Maybe that was what he was most afraid of; hurting her.

Michel unceremoniously dropped the bra on the ground and took Forsynthia by the face, kissing her lips with impulsive lust. A moment of shock passed through the both of them, but Forsynthia did not pull away from the embrace. When she did pull away, it was only to tell him, “The water's getting cold Shell.” And for a moment, he could have cared less.

Forsynthia gave a small laughter as she left his arms. She stepped into the shower and immediately started to get her hair wet.

“Can you hand me the shampoo?” she asked him, despite the bottle being only four steps away from her. It was his cue to either get out or join her. Michel looked at her for a moment, drinking in her shameless display while she made sure her hair was completely wet. Holding in his breath, Michel picked up the shampoo bottle and entered the shower with Forsynthia.

There was a bit more room in the shower than what Michel had anticipated, but it was still close. If neither of them were careful, it would have been easy to brush against the other's leg. Or worse.

“Turn around.” he told her, the request sounding more like a nervous squeak. “I'll wash your hair for you.”

Giving a little shrug (how was she so calm about this? He was practically shaking!), Forsynthia turned around. Michel almost dropped the shampoo bottle as he tried to squirt a bit of the shampoo in his hand. After gently setting the bottle down, Michel started to massage the shampoo onto the top of her scalp. Forsynthia let out a small hum of approval as he worked. Michel’s claws did well to get the shampoo to her roots without scratching Forsynthia’s head.

“Done,” he said after a minute or so.

“Great.” Forsynthia nodded. She stepped under the stream of water and let the soap wash away. Michel didn’t know what to do other than watch.

When she was done, Forsynthia turned around to reach for the shower head. She pulled the detachable head off and, with the water still pouring out, tried to present it to Michel.

“Now it’s your turn.” she grinned at him.

Anxiety came back at full force.

“O-okay.” he nervously agreed. “Start… Just do where you can reach. Okay?”

Forsynthia let out a small giggle. “Okay.”

She got down to her knees to have a better view of his furry legs. Using the detachable shower head, she worked to wet his legs down like an expert dog groomer. When it was time for soap, she didn’t bother to place any in her hands. Instead Forsynthia squirted a single line against the outside of his leg. From there she rigorously scrubbed with all the force her thin arms could muster.

It reminded Michel of how ticklish he was underneath all that fur.

Still, he did his best to stay still as she worked. He didn’t expect her small hands to start working upwards toward his crotch. The motions she made became a bit more gentle then. With it came the increasing awareness of just where her hands were. Sure, he might not have had genitals like humans did, but there was still a sense of sensitivity regardless.

Time passed far too slowly before Forsynthia stood up again.

“There.” she proclaimed, rather proudly. “Now for the top half of you.”

Michel found himself nodding a bit too quickly.

This part hadn’t been as bad as the others, considering Forsynthia’s small stature. She could just barely get to his armpits. That didn’t mean that she didn’t try to keep scrubbing with fervor. It was incredibly ticklish. By the time Michel was completely clean, the hot water had completely run out.

“It's so cold.” Forsynthia shivered.

“We should get out.” Michel suggested as he reached over to turn the water off.

His girlfriend nodded. “Good idea.”

Michel let Forsynthia out first. He patiently waited as she took a towel from the rack and started to dry herself off. Each movement was so careful- as if even she was afraid of hurting herself by being so thin and small. Michel tilted his head. Forsynthia caressed her body as she got every part of her dry.

When she turned to give him a sneaky grin, Michel felt his heart race. If he wasn't a wet dog right now, he would probably take her by the face again for another kiss.

The tricky, confusing woman left him in the bathroom when she had dried herself off enough. Michel had to use a blow dryer to get himself dry. He went over every inch of his body- going in between his toes and fingers, even to his armpits because when THOSE stayed wet, he'd have to take another shower in an hour. Even with his careful drying, parts of him were still damp when he decided that it was time to call it quits.

As Michel entered the bedroom he and Forsynthia shared, he found in startling revelation that his girlfriend was still nude. Michel opened his mouth to say... something, but his thoughts were put off when she tossed his phone over.

“Your mom sent a text while we were bathing.” she said, quite simply.

Michel had to hold back a curse as he picked up his phone. Had Forsynthia seen whatever his mom had sent? The poor old woman didn't take kindly to when other girls were in his vicinity, let alone living in the same room. One of these days he was going to slip up and reveal the truth. But for now? Ignorance was bliss.

'How is my flower doing? I'm hoping that you'll be able to join us for our festival next week!'

Michel let out a sigh of relief. So it was just a normal check-in. He could handle that.

'Just got out of the shower. Been a bit too hot to handle out here recently.'

Michel looked up to see Forsynthia. She was finding clothes to get dressed in now, humming to herself. Michel wondered if his mother would ever scare her- assuming she even did already. He wondered if his mom would ever accept her as his partner. This world wasn't always kind when the partners didn't match. Especially if one of you was a monster.

'I don't think I'll be able to make it to the festival.' he added to his text. 'Work is holding me back. You know how it goes.'

Without thinking twice, he hit send. He looked up to find Forsynthia carefully deciding on her nightgown choices; a cotton T-shirt dress, or a little number that Michel knew would show more skin than what she was normally comfortable with. The idea she was even entertaining that particular nightgown made him laugh.

Forsynthia gave two blinks before turning to him.

“What's wrong?” she asked. Her face was blank, but her tone indicated some confusion.

“Nothing.” Michel assured her. “You're perfect.”

Forsynthia stared at him, not quite understanding his meaning for a moment. When it hit, she blushed.

“You're... really fluffy.” she sheepishly said back. Michel laughed as Forsynthia's face got even more red. It was such a welcome glow against her pale features.

Michel's phone chose that time to beep at him. Apparently his mom had texted back, but he could have cared less. This moment belonged to him and Forsynthia- as did many others. His mom could wait.

For now.

[amarantine-amirite]

The Treachery of Images

This happened when the COO of a bank we shall keep nameless married the swimsuit model. They had an open bar at their reception. Because of that, nobody under the age of 21 could be in the main building. Usually, this doesn’t cause problems because people don’t bring their kids to wedding receptions that are effectively work things. Since none of us were kids you could leave alone in the house, the people planning the event had to come up with things for the kids to do while their parents listened to coworkers give wedding toasts. 

They split the kids into groups. Each group had two interns to chaperone the kids. Our group went ice skating. Our chaperones included Alex, an accounting major with the investment banking group and Verity, a computer science major working as a database developer. 

We got a nasty surprise when we arrived at the ice rink. The boys didn't even have to wear helmets while skating, most didn't wear shirts. The girls had to be wrapped up in just about every form of hockey padding under the sun along with a hi-collar life jacket. 

As you would expect, none of us saw that coming. They provided gear, but they didn't have enough gear for all the girls to be on the ice at the same time. We could only skate for five minutes at a time before we had to come back and transfer our gear to the next person. The time it took to do the transfer cut into our ice time.

Transferring our protective equipment felt like prepping to put out a wildfire. Abigail jumped off the ice, took off her gloves and helmet, and passed it to Cindy. She then removed her neckguard and life jacket and helped Cindy put it on so she could step on the ice.

Now that Cindy was on the ice, Abigail took off her chest plate and gauntlets and gave them to Cindy. Cindy took the chest plate under their life jacket and fastened the waistband on the life jacket once the chest plate was on.

Next, Abigail took off the shorts and the goalie pads. The tops of the goalie pads went up past Cindy's mid-thigh, and she nearly scratched a hole in the shorts with her skates. It took two of us to fasten the crotch strap on the life jacket once she got the shorts and the goalie pads in place.

Finally, Abigail passed Cindy the gloves. technically, we were not supposed to remove your gloves until the end, but it’s easier to transfer if you take your gloves off.

This whole process took four minutes and 15 seconds. Cindy took one look at herself and said, “Jesus Christ, I feel like a tick about to pop!”

“OK, you’re done,” Abigail said.

Cindy looked at Abigail from behind the face cage of the helmet. “Yeah, but I can’t put my arms down!” she whined.

Abigail pushed Cindy’s arms down and they sprang right back up. She looked around and said, “Well, put your arms down when you get on the ice.”

Cindy nodded and waddled away. 

“Nice change-up, Abigail,” I said as I slowly clapped

Abigail rolled her eyes and sulked, “Louise, do not get me started on that life jacket, it will not go around that breastplate.” She sat down on the bench in a way that looked like somebody threw her there. “No kidding, this is not what I had in mind.”

I nodded and chuckled. “By my calculations, Cindy’s going to have 45 seconds of ice time,” I commented, pointing to my watch, “She should make the most of it.”

Ellie overheard our chatter, turned around, and said, “You’ve been in a mood all day, Louise.”

“Well, not all the time,” I said, “this only started when we got out here.”

When I said that, I referred to getting caught off guard by a rule that the girls had to have hockey gear in a life jacket to skate. Ellie thought I meant I was afraid of skating because I had never been before. “So, have you been skating before?” she asked in a sickly sweet tone that tried to be sympathetic but just failed.

“Yes, but never with this much gear,” I said. I shook my head and grimaced, “It’s putting me off, to be honest.”

“OK,” Ellie asked, “what do you wear for skating?”

“You mean other than my skates and my clothes?” I shrugged my shoulders, “Just some gloves.”

Ellie looked at me like I had horseshoe crabs coming out of my nose. “That’s it?” she gasped, “No helmet?”

“No, don’t really need one,” I answered. My background is in figure skating and the first thing they teach you is how to fall so that you don’t hit your head. I fully respect that helmets can prevent catastrophic skull fractures, but learning how to fall safely prevents you from hitting your head in the first place. I tried to put this into words that Ellie would understand, but all I could get out was, “I already know how to fall”

Ellie didn’t appreciate this, but I didn’t expect her to get so upset. “You’re kidding me, right?” she said with one of those laughs it’s not a genuine laugh but you’re just using it to mask your discomfort, “Your ego is so inflated that you can barely fit through the door."

"I know,” I responded. I meant this as I know you're upset, but Ellie took it to mean I know, it's hard being this great.

My ego had nothing to do with it. Everyone else seemed oblivious to what we were promised not matching what was delivered except me. 

Our conversation attracted the attention of one of the chaperones. Alex wandered over to us and said, “Is there a problem here, ladies?”

“Well, it's not really a problem per se,” I began. “I was just talking about how this does not meet my expectations, and…”

Ellie stood up abruptly. “Louise ice skates with no helmet because she thinks she's better than us!” she interrupted in a panicky tone. I now knew exactly what Grace and Jacinda were talking about when they said she looked like Veruca Salt.

Alex walked over to me and sat down. “OK, Listen to me,” she began, “I know you might think all that and a slice of pie, but until you have witnessed the horror that goes on in a trauma ward in a hospital ER, don't speak.” She closed her eyes and looked away towards the end of the sentence. she started to panic just as much as Ellie did and smacked the back of her right hand against her left hand if she spoke. “You aren't just hurting yourself here, you are making others who love you fear for your life!” 

“We have pie?” I asked. 

Alex got very stern and corporate with me. “We are not talking about pie, Louise,” she said.

“Then why did you bring it up?”

Alex got mad, left, and went to the viewing gallery to say something to Verity. “what do you think they’re talking about?” I mused out loud. 

Jacinda heard what I said and responded, “It's probably a bluff. I don’t think they’re saying much of anything.” 

I watched Alex and Verity gesticulate as they talked. “They’re moving their hands a lot.”

“I can see that,” Jacinda replied. She shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I’m like you. I don’t skate with a helmet, either.” 

“Because you’re vain?” Ellie snipped. 

Jacinda rolled her eyes at Ellie. She turned to me and said, “Honestly, what’s more important is knowing how to fall safely. I’m surprised they don’t teach kids that.” 

“That’s how I learned, but I learned from someone who had trained as a figure skater,” I said excitedly. Out of everyone there, I finally met someone who actually understood. 

Alex came back with Verity. “Hey, Louise,” she asked. 

I slammed my hands down on my thighs. “Is this about what I think it is?” I said. 

“Yes,” Verity said, “Alex told me everything.” 

I stood up and got ready to explain myself. “They should’ve told us ahead of time,” I said. 

Verity shook her head. “Well, you should know better,” she said. She brought her hands together gently and looked down at me, even though I’m about four inches taller than her. “A helmet is the bare minimum,” she said, “ and what do you think of somebody who does the bare minimum?”

“Well,” I began, “none of the girls expected to have to wear full hockey gear and a life jacket on the ice.” I did my best to be diplomatic, something that got harder as the dialogue became progressively stupider. “Quite frankly, that rule should apply to everybody and, as I’ve said before, you should’ve told us this ahead of time.”

Verity gestured for me to sit down. “I want you to slow down and think about how you sound,” she said, “Does it come off as, well, a bit Karen-ish?” 

“No,” I shook my head. 

Now, the smart thing to say next would be that you aren’t frustrated by the protective gear in and of itself, just the double standards, lack of communication, and unexpected reactions to expressing your frustration with the previous items surrounding it. Had I been able to put this in words, it would’ve been a lot smarter than what I did say, which was, “Why do you have to wear a life jacket while skating because it’s a flooded ice surface and not a frozen pond?”

Verity rolled her eyes. She probably thought I was stupid. “because ice is frozen water,” she said in total disbelief that someone could make it to age 16 and not know that, “if you fall through the ice, you hit the water and drown.” She condescendingly nodded her head. “People can fall through ice and drown, and life jackets stop you from drowning.” 

I blinked. “I get that, but this is not the same”

“how can it not be the same?” Verity said incredulously, “Drowning is drowning!” 

“Unlike an ice layer on a natural body of water, there’s nowhere for you to go if the ice cracks except for maybe the padding that’s underneath the ice sheet. It’s pretty much a frozen puddle.” I couldn’t believe I had to say this to an adult. 

“But you can drown in a puddle!” she said defensively, “Or are you too stupid to understand that, too?”

“Not if it’s frozen,” I said without missing a beat. I burst out laughing. How could somebody think you could fall through a flooded ice sheet when there was no body of water underneath it. “the fact that you can’t seem to grasp but there is no risk of drowning on a man-made rink makes you closer to stupid than me”

Verity’s patience wore thin. She walked me to the door. “Go,” she scolded, “Now.”

I took off my skates, packed them up, put my shoes back on, and walked away. As I left, I heard Jacinda say, “She’s right, you know. 

Verity pointed at the door. “You need to leave, too, Jacinda,” she barked, “Don’t encourage Louise, here.” 

I don’t believe for a minute that I missed anything spectacular. As I left, I noticed that the boys decided to play some game where they knocked over the girls. The girls couldn’t get up when the boys knocked them over. Anyone who fell over had to wait for somebody to help them up, but they seemed to take their sweet time. Somehow, I can see this game making the top of the list of reasons that somebody's relationship ended.

Jacinda caught up to me as I left. “Louise, I’m going to ask you something and I don’t want you to freak out”

“Normally, I’d say please don’t, but have at. I’m kind of curious now”

Jacinda took a deep breath and asked, “Was everything that happened back there related to your autism?”

It looks an awful lot like my autism caused this fiasco, but it didn’t. This isn’t me struggling to cope with intricate social rules, nor is it about not foreseeing how things they do upset people. It’s not related to difficulty executing tasks due to poor motor coordination. It’s not even an issue of taking things too literally. 

“Jacinda, let me answer that question with another question,” I began, “Did they tell the girls we need to bring a life jacket and hockey padding to skate ahead of time?”

“No,” Jacinda scoffed, “and it should really be the other way around.”

I laughed because I knew exactly what Jacinda meant. if you put those boys in a padded cell they’ll still find a way to hurt themselves. “Yeah,” I chortled, “they’re stupid.”

“So, what you’re telling me is that this is not related to autism?” Jacinda asked

“Hell no!” I exclaimed, “The problem is that we were lied to!”

Jacinda tipped her head to one side, “Of course, if they told us the truth, we would say that they were insane and we wouldn’t show up, because none of it makes any sense.” 

Grace came power-walking in out of nowhere. “hey guys, we’ve got a problem,”

Jacinda’s eyebrows did their best impressions of Volkswagens trying to park. “And that is?”

Grace gestured to the clamp on the wheel on the bug-green luxury car parked at a 60-degree angle. “They’ve impounded my Mercedes.” 

@unboundprompts

[bouncyalex]

Secured in wetsuit and a PFD-A LJ-V special needs floating device.

Waiting for a GO signal from an adult.

Discarding my used diaper in the proper trash bin.

Getting in the swimming pool.

Happy kiddo. 👏🏼🏊🏼‍♂️

[adecmarine]

Lifejackets for Sale | Marine Safety Equipment | VHF Marine Radio | Lifebuoys

ADEC Marine can supply everything you need when it comes to lifejackets. They are our specialty. We can offer you foam-filled lifejackets, inflatable lifejackets, buoyancy aids, personal flotation devices, industrial workers lifejackets, single and twin chambered CO2 inflation jackets. You name it, we can supply it. Our lifejackets are all approved to the necessary worldwide approval standards where applicable.

Here we offer our most popular range of jackets suitable for Charter and Fishing Boat Operators. We have the Besto and Eval Foam-filled range of lifejackets, plus our very own ADEC Range of ISO approved CO2 inflation lifejackets.

Plus we can supply everything you need for your lifejacket - rearming packs, lifejacket lights, crotch straps, safety lines, safety harnesses, spray hoods and more.

If you are not sure exactly what you require, let us help, use our contact form or just call us on 020 8686 9717.

 About AdecMarine

ADEC Marine ease the burden of knowing what is the correct marine safety supplies to purchase as our expertise and knowledge will keep you in safe hands. ADEC Marine started in 1965 and has been selling, servicing and hiring marine safety equipment ever since. Our staff have a wealth of knowledge and expertise to guide you in buying the correct marine safety equipment for when out at sea.

 ADEC Marine are a Member of the British Marine Federation.

 As well as the service of inflatable life rafts, inflatable boats, inflatable life jackets, immersion suits, tenders and dinghies, we also have an extensive fleet of inflatable life rafts for hire, from 4 person canopied yachting type to 130 person commercial open reversible liferafts. We operate our own Marine and Coastguard Agency (MCA) approved Liferaft and Life jacket Service Station in London.

 We can supply SOLAS/UK MCA/EC/MED approved marine safety equipment worldwide, such as liferafts, lifejackets, distress flares, ACR EPIRB's, Icom VHF Radios, SARTS, lifebuoys, anchor chain, fire extinguishers, smoke alarms, radar.

[leighmartin-marine]

The Different Types of Life Jackets

Regardless if you’ve been boating for some time or for a long time, you know that life jackets are the most essential boat accessories to have. And you also know that not all boats are made the same. Some are more suitable in certain bodies of water and some are not wearable. It’s essential to know which life jackets are appropriate to use in offshore or inshore waters and their functions.

Type I: Offshore Life Jackets

These vests are designed for open, rough, or remote waters where rescue may take some time. They provide the most buoyancy out of all the different types of life jackets out there, they are excellent for flotation and will turn most unconscious persons face-up in the water. These life jackets offer the best protection even though they are quite bulky and uncomfortable. These also help retain body heat as well.

Type II: Near-Shore Vests

These jackets are suitable for inland water near shores where immediate rescue is swift. These are best to wear for activities such as day cruising, fishing and sailing. However, these are not suitable for extended survival in rough water. They don’t necessarily keep the wearer’s head above water.  

Type III: Flotation Aids

These life jackets are great for calm waters where a rescue if needed would be quick. These jackets are more comfortable compared to Type I and Type II although they provide far less floatation than Type I. These are not recommended for rough waters since they will not turn most unconscious people face up. These are most commonly used for water sports activities such as sailing, water skiing, game fishing, kayaking, and operating personal watercraft boats.

Type IV: Throwable Device

Type IV is not designed to be worn but it is used for anyone to hold on to it. Because it’s not a wearable device, these jackets are not suitable for rough waters. This is used to throw an overboard victim to help them float and prevent them from drowning. A Type IV throwable device can be a square style, a ring buoy or a horseshoe buoy mounted on deck. A Type IV is not for unconscious persons, non-swimmers or children. This should be placed in the top deck where it is visible and easily accessible.

Type V: Special Use Life Jackets

These are often developed and customized specifically for specific sports such as kayaking, wakeboarding, or windsurfing. Restricted to the special use for which each is designed.  They can come in belt packs, deck suits, and float coats. They are not suitable in offshore locations.

Now that you know which life jackets are suitable for different types of situations, you know what to purchase in marine boat stores and what to store in your boat.

-Once you select the proper type of PFD for your conditions and/or activity, make sure it is in good condition, with no holes or tears, and fits properly. A jacket that is too large can slip off the wearer. One that is too small might not offer sufficient buoyancy to keep the wearer afloat.

-Look for the manufacturer’s labelling that details the size and weight the jacket is intended to fit.

-Once you have the proper size, put on the jacket, fasten any closures (buckles, zippers, etc.), then lift your arms up straight over your head and ask a friend to grab the top of the jacket above the arm openings and pull upward.

-Ideally, the jacket should not rise any higher than the wearer’s chin. If it rides up as high as the ears, it’s too large and could slip off in the water; size down to get the proper fit.

-Don’t overlook the crotch strap found on life jackets designed for young children. This additional strap runs between the legs from the back of the jacket to the front and offers added assurance the jacket will not ride up or slip over a child’s head.

[champion-prism]

Fantasies- Toshinori Yagi/All Might

Requested by anon: hello prism!! Do you write young age all might? If you do, can you write one where toshi fantasizes about f!reader and feels bad about it, but cant help it? Maybe he has her clothes or something?

Anon im coming back from the dead to write this bc guilty jerking off is my FAVOURITE thing ever.

Pairings: Young!All Might x F!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, guilt

Word Count: 1734

Toshinori’s life is a whirlwind right now. He’s getting major attention for his hero work, making sure to be seen publicly at least once a day, staying on call with the fire department in case there’s an emergency and his rescue services are needed, he’s attending classes at university, working out in his spare time, working with Dave on testing new tech and variations to his suit for maximum utility…

...oh, and he’s avoiding you.

Not that you know he’s avoiding you, he’s always sweet when you run into him in the common area of your four person suite, always offers to pour you a drink of lemonade, always asks how your classes are going. He just tries to make sure that he’s not out in the common area while you’re there, preferring to skulk out whenever you go back to your room, because he knows.

He knows that if he runs into you, he’s going to stare at your legs, smooth and pretty looking in those tiny, tiny shorts you’re always wearing, and he knows that if you bend down he’s going to catch a glimpse of your panties. He feels terrible about it, because he has seen your panties- not on purpose! He’s All Might, he doesn’t look up skirts or things like that, he isn’t… he isn’t a pervert.

Truth be told, he’s been rather taken with you ever since he and Dave were assigned to this suite with you and another girl. At first, he supposed he didn’t really care much- roommates had never given him trouble, female or otherwise- but you...you made him feel weird.

You had this gentle tone of voice when he introduced himself, his name softly rolling off your tongue, making him feel this oddest urge to...know what you were thinking. He wanted to talk, he wanted to brag, he wanted to lift something heavy just to show you that he could lift heavy things, even though he was aware that it would be a ridiculous thing to do. It was a ridiculous thing to think, even, as he confided in Dave later.

Dave had just laughed at him.

The urge he got when he saw you, the urge to pull you into a hug and press you flush against his whole body, he didn’t know what to make of it.

Until now.

He’s been sitting in almost darkness in his room for a while now, holding in his hands his varsity “Plus Ultra” jacket that he had put around your shoulders last night, when he’d walked back with you from a late evening lecture. You’d just been to return it, a soft smile on your lips,and now he’s sitting here, jacket in hand, breathing in your scent that was on his jacket, feminine and sweet. He slumps back to lay on the bed, still holding it close, one hand unconsciously smoothening over his crotch. He only notices when he gives himself a light squeeze- the warmth is both pleasurable and uncomfortable at the same time, his cock growing hard underneath his sweatpants.

He breathes in.

He is not a pervert.

But is this perverted? Rubbing himself over his sweatpants while breathing in your scent?

How would you feel if you found out?

You’d probably never even look at him again.

His hips buck.

He knows he should get his hand away before this escalates, but grinding into his own palm is just about his only option. He’s not comfortable with casual relationships, and he’s too busy to ever pursue a serious one, and being as busy as he is gives him almost no time to take care of himself.

He sighs as he removes his hand for good, rolling over to his side and grabbing his phone from his bedside table. He needs to distract himself, so he opens up his social media- he’s not necessarily a huge fan of it, but he knows it’s important for a hero like him to have a presence.

He scrolls a bit, almost lazily, but the universe is not on his side. Pretty soon he’s on your page, looking through your pictures with his lower lip between his teeth.

There’s this one picture of you. You’re wearing a short red dress, one that complements your body perfectly, tight in all the right places, with thin straps that show off your beautiful shoulders, ones he wants to kiss all over, bite and suck and leave marks on. His bright blue eyes fix themselves on your thighs- would you like it if he dove between them? If he licked the insides of your thighs, sucking on their softness- would you buck your hips and whine at him to kiss you where you wanted it?

His hand is between his legs again, his sweatpants uncomfortably tight, face half buried in the jacket.

He wishes he could bury his face in your pussy, instead.

The thought is so graphic that he flinches, but his hand stays.

He’s just going to press down a little, to help with the discomfort. He keeps staring at the picture, glancing at your cleavage, but going back to the hem of your dress.

Such a short dress. Hitch it up a few inches and you’d be exposed- had you been wearing those lacy pink panties he got a peek at, once?

Were you even wearing panties at all in this picture?

His mind wanders to how you lounge in your shorts in the common area, those tiny shorts that barely cover your ass, only offering a thin strip of protection to your bare cunt.

Toshi knows it’s not very plus ultra of him to commit the image of you in those shorts to memory, and he’s ashamed of what it says about his self control but he gives in, shucking off his sweatpants and kicking them away, palming himself through his boxers.

He’s just so sexually frustrated.

His cock is hard, straining against them as if threatening to break out of his boxers. He circles the covered head with his fingers, the pleasure too much but not enough.

He doesn’t want his hands. He wants your tongue, wet and pink and swirling gently on his head, pushing at the slit and lapping up his pre.

He’s not the most experienced guy on the block, but Toshi knows that just like the rest of him, he’s a bit larger than life. He wonders how much of him you’d be able to take into his mouth, groaning as he imagines your mouth sucking on his head, your soft hands pumping his length.

Tears in your eyes as you try to take him further into your mouth, but don’t even get a quarter of the way through.

His hand slides inside his underwear, eyes glued to his phone as he scrolls further down your page.

Perv, he tells himself, flushing from both embarrassment and arousal. You’re just down the hall from him, sweet and unaware, and he briefly wonders what you’re doing before he begins to wonder what you look like touching yourself.

He can just imagine you, lying on your bed wearing nothing but his large, open jacket, playing with your nipples and rubbing your slit. Whose name would you whisper?

Or maybe he’d save you from a villain or something and you’d like to pay him back in kind-

Toshi shudders as he bucks his hips into his hand, chastising himself for that last thought. He is a hero, even fantasizing about something like that is unethical and abhorrent and-

-he wants to hear you moan his hero name, he wants to see you free his cock from his hero suit, run your hands over his body, look up at him with worshipping eyes-

His cock is slick with his own pre cum as he begins to pump himself in earnest, phone dropped to a side as he focuses on his own fantasies. What would you be like if he saved you from a villain attack? Would you cling to his form, subtly running your hands over his muscles, maybe nuzzling against his chest for comfort?

Would you tilt your head towards him, hoping for a kiss?

He imagines kissing you, his lips on yours, tongue exploring your mouth. Carrying you to safety as you begin to take your clothes off, grateful and adoring and looking at him as if he’s the whole world.

Fuck.

His balls are throbbing in his hand, and he gives them a squeeze, imagining you trying to suck on them, trying to cup them in your small hands, trailing kisses all over his sac and licking up his shaft.

Fuck, all he wants right now is for you to blow him. You, naked and on your knees in front of him while he sits back, completely clothed in his hero suit with only his cock out, sighing as you lick and suck and moan against his shaft, your hand occasionally moving to play with your tits or to rub your clit.

He wants to hear you call him All Might in a breathy little voice, hands clutching his thighs as you look pleadingly up at him and beg him to fuck you.

And he would fuck you, oh, he’d press you down onto the bed and tower over you, groping your body, grabbing your tits, settling between your open legs and rubbing his cockhead against your swollen lower lips-

He’s close, he can feel it, pumping and squeezing his length and taking deep breaths of the jacket you wore, imagining himself sinking slowly inside of your wet cunt until his hips meet yours.

He just knows you’d whine about how big he is.

He’d grip your thighs and fuck into your cunt, eliciting moans and screams, hitting every little spot inside your cunt, oh, he’d make you cum around his cock so many times that you’d be begging for him to stop, that he was too much and you couldn’t take it and-

Toshi comes with a muffled moan, hips jerking as he cums all over himself, his body tingling and desperate for your touch. He keeps pumping until he’s made a whole mess of himself, then lays back, gasping and panting as guilt creeps over him, making him blush even redder, even though there’s a part of his mind already formulating a plan to make his fantasies a reality.

[drysuitdivingdrone1950]

Others told me about weighted ball stretchers, but I never seemed to have the courage to try them on. Finally, after much encouragement from several friends, I broke down and placed an order.

They finally arrived late in the evening about a week after I placed the order. The little kid in me had to try them on right away. I spent the evening fiddling around and getting comfortable with them. That night I set a challenge for myself.

I hopped out of bed the next morning and hit the showers. It was time to meet the challenge I had set for myself. I put on my latex sheath. Carefully to avoid any pinched skin, I began to strap on the weights. I loved how it felt as I left them out to dangle.

I pulled on my compression stockings and slide into my tall riding boots. I finished up with a light leather jacket and headed out for the HARLEY. Encased my head in a helmet and slide the riding gloves on. Soon I was standing, straddling HARLEY. As usual, this felt awesome.

I fired up HARLEY and took off!!

While in town I had to focus on the traffic. But as I entered the expressway, I began to notice that wonderful sensation. With every stroke of the powerful engine, HARLEY was sending me good vibrations that sent a tingle up my spine. I headed for the mountains. HARLEY continued to send those good vibrations. It was awesome to have my weighted, low hanging nutz in a spot perfect to pick up every sensation that HARLEY was sending to them.

I felt a slightly uncomfortable pressure starting to build in my crotch. Each stroke of the engine sent more of those good vibrations. My sack was filling with the juice of life. It felt as if my sack could explode any time. As I leaned into each curve, I wondered if I was going to make my goal. Make it to the top of the mountain.

My nutz could not hold on any longer. As I turned into a parking area at the top of the mountain, they exploded. The white creamy slim filled with my seeds was erupting into my rubber pants.

I reached my goal---

It feels great to be a kid again!!

[seiya234]

who we are in the light

(is this what you wanted from life?)

---

Every day Acacia woke up first, made coffee for her and Reina, breakfast for the kids, and hopped into the shower while everyone ate. Then she and Reina switched out, and Acacia got the twins and Serge dressed and ready for school. As Reina was grabbing her suitcase and a road donut, Acacia was strapping Serge into his booster seat and trusting that the twins could manage their seatbelts on their own.

Acacia closed the door of the minivan, then turned to Reina, coming up the driver’s side, and said “Have a good day babe!” Reina responded by giving her a wet sloppy kiss, with a bit of tongue (the best kind) and finished with “You too love.” 

As Reina got the minivan started, Acacia went back to the front door, climbing up the wooden steps to the trailer that her dad had put in, watching from the screen door as her family drove off.

(is this what you wanted from life?)

Somewhere out in Clackamas County her brother was brokering a peace between warring pixie tribes; Vivi and Lucy Ann were constantly posting updates in the “Hank Watching” group chat-

(is this what you wanted from life?)

Her sister was currently deep asleep back in Gravity Falls. She had come home at 2am, after a long night cult bashing with their uncle, and stayed up only long enough to text her siblings that she was stil alive before passing out-

(Is this what you wanted out of life?)

The only thing she had to do today, really, was get dinner ready before the kids and Reina came home, and clean up the living room, maybe start some laundry.

(is this what you wanted)

In her closet there was a whole rack of dress shirts and jackets and ties, gathering dust since it just didn’t make sense to dress up like she used to just to putter around the house and-

(is this what you wanted)

Motorcycle license in her wallet was still getting use but she had traded in the hot shit crotch rocket she had gotten on her 18th birthday for a stodgy Harley Davidson that had a sidecar for running groceries. 

(is this what you)

Decorative swords and knives and maces all over her house, her and all the other teenage boys at the shitty fake blade booth at every Ren Faire, while the tiny box of real stuff she had sat unused in the closet, and-

(is this is this is this is this IS THIS)

Her chest hurt. 

Acacia ignored it with the east of long practice, and instead of going inside, walked off the porch, and into her Hut. 

(acacia loved her life. this was not what she had wanted out of life.)

There was no one wilder, no one more bold, no one more fearless, than the baddest bitch alive (self proclaimed) Acacia Ruth Polaris Pines. 

Teachers hated her, kids loved her, fish feared her. In fourth grade she taught her her class how to knife fight using only plastic sporks. Seventh grade saw her ride her skateboard off the roof into the stock pond on the farm next door. Ninth grade and a small deal with her uncle left the water fountains tasting like either cream soda or broccoli water depending on the cloud cover above. 

Her senior class prank was akin to a master’s thesis- no, a doctoral dissertation in shenanigans and tomfoolery. Boldly planned and executed by no one save her, it was a prank so epic that it survived in tale and song in the tri county area for centuries (and was eventually the subject of a small folklore chapbook about children’s culture in early post-Transcendence Oregon.)

Everything she did, she did big. She wore the smartest clothes, laughed the loudest laugh, ran the fastest lap. There were never any fights between the triplets about who was the leader and why was it Acacia because, well, of course it would be Acacia. Acacia thought of the best plans, told the best lies to get them out of trouble, and when all else failed, could get a laugh even out of Dad sometimes when they got caught. 

She never got Hurt. That was key here: Acacia Pines did not get hurt.

Sure, of course she got hurt, Between all the pranking and laughing and dancing and climbing and exploring there were countless scrapes and cuts, bumps and bruises, even the occasional set of stitches or broken bone. But that? That was nothing. 

She was Acacia Ruth Polaris Pines, and she was untouchable, unconquerable, confidence in spades. Nothing touched her. Nothing would ever touch her.

(”One day,” Willow had spat at her during a particularly nasty argument in freshman year of college, “you’re going to get Actually hurt and what then Acacia? How are you going to handle that?”

It wasn’t reading the future. Willow couldn’t read the future of course. But of the three of them, she was the best at reading the room.)

-----

She loses her eye.

She loses her eye when she’s 24 and she wrecks her car on a wet road and hits a tree (no)

She loses her eye when she’s 17 and she gets dared to mess with the eyewash machine in the Chemistry lab and it shoots rusty metal bits in her eye (no)

She loses her eye when she’s 19 and Stan’s past catches up to them (no)

She loses her eye when she’s 21 and she trips and through a series of unfortunate events lands eye-first on a metal straw (no)

She loses her eyes when she’s 22 and about to graduate college and her friends to decide to ‘summon’ a demon and she plays along because she knows better, she knows better, she knows better until there’s a knife in her eye and she doesn’t actually know better (no)

She-

Well. It doesn’t matter how Acacia Ruth Pines loses an eye. It just matters that she loses one. It just matters that she wakes up in a hospital bed, head aching, chest empty, and Reina at her bedside.

She knew they would be together forever. Reina knew they would be together forever. It was just the details they (Acacia) were trying to figure out.

Before the Loss there were talks of backpacking Europe, of going off grid for a few years, of getting a masters or a PhD or both.

Of enjoying their twenties, and their thirties, and hell, maybe even their fourties before they finally settled down, maybe had some kids, did that whole grown up thing.

She loses her eye, and every single part of her is shattered.

She loses her eye, and she hurts, she hurts, she hurts. 

She loses her eye, and in these early post-Transcendence years there’s only so much Magic Technology can do.

She loses her eye and Uncle Dipper takes her gently aside one day and awkwardly explains that he can replace it but that she may not like the Cost, because niece of a demon or not, there is only so far Dipper can go before magic demands it’s price.

She loses her eye and yes on the surface everything is fine people have lost eyes for thousands of years but-

She loses her eye and Acacia Ruth Pines shatters, and the very first thing, in every reality she thinks to do is to grab on to a life preserver and

“Reina, will you marry me?”

----

Her first paintings of the day are commissions: paintings of people’s pets, of their boats and cars, and increasingly, of people themselves. That last one was Reina’s idea and it was brilliant because it turns out everyone who is everyone in the Bend micropolitan area has seized upon the importance of having An Artist paint them and their families in front of their McMansions. 

She can do those in her sleep so these only take up an hour or two before she moves on.

The next paintings are things that are Sure Sellers. Landscapes for the galleries that go more Western art, Twee puppies and kittens for the galleries that wish they could be Thomas Kincaide, and unicorns for the convention scene. Boomers and Gen X, Acacia had found, really loved them some unicorn art, even though post-Transcendence it had been revealed that unicorns were actually massive assholes. 

She hated painting these. Maybe others would think it would be the pictures of pets and cars and people, but those involved painting off reference or models. For those, Acacia could lose herself in the act of trying her best to replicate on canvas what she was seeing before her. 

But for Sure Sellers, Acacia had to use her Imagination.... but for crap, just sheer, utter trite crap and she hated it but this one was the water bill, this one was a drop in the fund for Nito’s braces, this one would replace the dishwasher, this one-

She painted Sure Sellers until she felt the burn in her chest, the burn at these stupid fucking commissions, the burn at the world, and above all the burn at herself for being where she was doing what she was being small small so goddamn fucking small-

It was only then when she felt herself shaking with rage, that she became Whole again. 

(She never remembered what she painted in those periods. Just that for a few hours, a few precious hours she was Acacia Ruth Polaris Pines again, young and free and confident and unbroken.

When she was done, when the kids and Reina were about to come home, when her bladder made itself known, when a hundred tiny things broke through her concentration, she simply cleaned up, and put the canvas into the special hammerspace closet that Uncle Dipper had made for her and out of sight, out of mind)

---

She loved being a stay at home mom.

Admittedly, the toddler years were rough. But toddlers are rough for everyone, not just her. 

It helped that Josefa, Stan, and Serge were so utterly different than her lived experience as a sibling. They were all so very different from her, from Hank and Willow, hell even from what she remembered of Reina and her siblings growing up. They were blessedly their own people, and Acacia delighted in finding out who they were.

She halfheartedly cleaned, and eventually became a good cook if only out of self preservation, and once the kids were in school she had the whole day to paint. To Paint! Fantastic! 

She never saw herself becoming a PTA mom, and she did not, because in no reality did Acacia Ruth Pines have the patience for that shit. But she taught a hundred after school art classes as an elementary school volunteer, was the crossing guard while the kids were at middle school, and when Serge joined band in eighth grade, Acacia not only joined the band booster, but she became the band booster President, and ensured that for the next thirty to forty years she would get hellos from her kids who stayed in the Tri-County area.

Reina, she knew, loved what Acacia did for their family. Loved that Acacia was close at home with her, with their children, with their extended family.

Acacia’s world was small. Smaller than Hank’s, smaller than Willow’s.

Smaller than she ever expected that it would be.

But it was enough . Her life was enough, and it was everything that she needed, and in this world Acacia Ruth was never hurt, never hurt, never again.

Never again.

(is this what you wanted from life?)

(yes)

(no)

(I-)

----

When Mom died, Josefa was the first to find the closet. 

Inside were paintings. Hundreds upon hundreds of paintings.

The first one she pulled out made her irrationally angry. The next made her want to vomit. The third made her weirdly horny, which was not what she needed right now.

She looked at her brothers.

“Guys do-”

“Oh yeah.”

“Yeah.” 

Josefa looked at the paintings, almost a century’s worth of output, paintings that even had some fresh paint because of course Mommy painted up until her death. 

Every single one was a masterpiece. Every single one was abstract. Every single one was absolutely disturbing at an existential level.

Every one, Josefa knew, without having to be told, was the soul of Acacia Ruth Polaris Pines. 

[julieandthe-stan-toms]

You Shook Me All Night Long Pt. 2 | Luke Patterson x OC

Request: Sort of. Some people wanted a pt. 2

Word Count: 4878 words

Summary: Charlotte finally gets what she wants.

Warnings: Straight smut people. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT 18+. you have been warned. unprotected sex, possibly horribly written smut (I tried), cursing

A/N: This is probably the worst smut you will ever read. I'm not kidding. I've never written smut before and had no clue where to start and where to end with it.

"Charlotte, hey, what's up," Willie greeted me with what seemed like a forced smile.

I sighed at the skater and looked up at him in annoyance as I walked across the dance floor to the backstage area. "I'm not in the mood, Willie."

"What's wrong," he asked me in concern, following me across the room.

"What's wrong is I just got blue-balled by your boyfriend’s friend," I snapped out, looking over my shoulder at him with a glare.

"Luke," Willie questioned me curiously.

"No, Reggie," I told him sarcastically before looking at him in disbelief. "Yes, Luke. Who else have I been eye-fucking all night."

Willie widened his eyes at my choice of words. "I see."

"I mean I get that he most likely had someplace to be, but at least let a girl know a little bit ahead of time so she doesn't throw herself at you and almost give you a hand job in her dad's club," I ranted to him as we walked backstage and up the stairs to the rest of the hotel.

"Woah, Charlotte," Willie gasped out in shock at my words.

I scoffed at him and looked back at him as I walked up to the elevator to go to the top floor. "Don't sound so surprised, Willie. You've heard me say worse."

"Yeah, in private. Not so publicly like this," Willie told me, looking over at the elevator attendant who started the elevator to my floor.

"Well in public I am normally around my father, who likes me to be the sweet, innocent, little flower he raised up until he died. But he's not around right now, now is he," I smirked up at Willie as I started removing my headband and the pins from my hair.

"Well we don't want him to know of your extracurricular activities now do we," Willie said sarcastically as the elevator stopped.

"No, we do not. What he doesn't know won't hurt him. And, honestly, Willie, you act like I'm a delinquent or something. I just like to have some fun with the occasional guy every now and then. And by every now and then I mean every month or two. Gotta do something to make this undead life with my father worthwhile," I shrugged at the skater, walking out of the elevator and turning to look at him.

"I'm not fun enough," Willie asked me playfully.

"You are. Just not in the way I prefer at the moment," I smirked at him before turning to walk to the door that leads to my personal suite. "Goodnight, William," I called over my shoulder one last time as I walked down the hallway.

I sighed in relief at finally getting my dress and bra off for the night and being able to finally get into some pajamas. I walked over to my vanity and removed my jewelry, rubbing my earlobes after I removed my heavy earrings. I walked over to my dress that was sitting on the floor in front of my closet and neatly folded it up and placed it on the couch in front of my bed. I then walked into the bathroom and grabbed a hair tie to tie my hair up really quickly. I then turned the faucet on and waited for the water to heat up so I could wash my makeup off my face. However, a knock on my door echoed through my room. I groaned in annoyance and turned my faucet off. I then reached up and ripped my hair out of the bun I put it in as I marched from my bathroom, through my bedroom, and into the living room of my suite. I walked up to the door and pulled it open, looking up at the ghost in front of me with a raised eyebrow.

"Ms. Covington, you have a visitor downstairs. I know at this time at night you usually don't like to be bothered, but they're insisting," he explained to me quickly.

I sighed before nodding. "Alright, fine. Show them up."

“Yes, ma’am,” He nodded at me before walking back down the hallway towards the elevator.

I sighed in annoyance before closing my door. "Who in their right mind is here at 2 in the morning," I ranted to myself.

I walked back to my bedroom and grabbed a cardigan to place over my pajamas before walking back into the living room. I sat on my couch and waited for another 10 minutes before another knock sounded at my door. I got up and walked over to it and pulled it open with an expectant look on my face, but it quickly changed to shock when I saw who was standing on the other side.

"Luke," I gasped out wide-eyed.

"Hey, beautiful," he smirked down at me.

"You just couldn't stay away, huh," I smirked back up at him, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning against the door jam.

Luke looked down at the ground and bit his lip before looking back up at me. "I was wondering if that offer to spend time alone together was still on the table."

I looked him up and down before nodding. "For you it always is."

Luke wasted no time in pulling me closer and pulling me into a heated kiss. It was messy, it was all teeth and tongues clashing together, but it was hot. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled at the hair at the back of his head, causing him to groan into my mouth. I let out a little laugh before kissing him again. I let my hand slide down from around his neck to the lapels of his denim jacket. I then gripped them into my hands and pulled him into my suite. Luke took one of his hands off my waist to reach behind him and slam the door shut before letting it return to its original spot.

"This is a, um, nice place you've got here," Luke breathed out against my lips in between kisses as I led him to my bedroom.

"I know for a fact you're not paying attention to my room right now," I smirked against his lips.

"What makes you say that," he breathed out.

"Because your little friend pressing into my leg says you're paying attention to more important things," I giggled out.

I pulled away from the kiss and pulled Luke the rest of the way into my room. I closed my double doors and locked them as Luke came up behind me and began attacking my neck with kisses and nips. I moaned in pleasure at the mixture of the love bites he was leaving and the feeling of his bulge pressed into my ass. Luke began grinding his crotch against my ass, wrapping his arms around my waist to hold me up as I held onto the handles of my doors for dear life.

"Luke, fuck," I moaned out, leaning my head back against his shoulder and to the side for him to have more access.

Luke groaned out and moved my cardigan and my tank top strap off my shoulder as he started kissing the newly exposed skin. I pushed my ass back into him, causing him to let out an even louder groan.

"I can tell this is gonna be an eventful night," Luke groaned out as we continued our synchronous movements against each other.

"Oh, you have no idea," I sighed out with a slight moan, turning in his grip and beginning to guide him over to my bed. "This night's just getting started."

I gripped Luke’s denim jacket in my hands once again and began pushing it off his shoulders. The ghost got the idea and quickly whipped it off his shoulders, letting it drop to the ground. I laughed and began pulling my own cardigan off, letting it also drop to the floor. I began walking back towards my bed, pulling Luke with me, causing him to slightly trip over my cardigan on the floor. I giggled at him as he fell into me a bit before I pushed him against the side of my bed and he raised himself up onto the side of it before reaching out for me. He gripped my hips tightly in his hands and pulled me up onto his lap. I straddled his waist and pulled him into another kiss as I began grinding myself down on him once again.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Luke breathed out against my lips.

“Good thing you're already dead,” I replied back to him before bringing our lips back together again.

Luke let his hands wander underneath my tank top before slipping them beneath the waistband of my sleep shorts. I moaned as he gripped my ass in his hands and felt his cold rings against the warm skin. Luke groaned and pulled out of our kiss, nibbling a little on my lip as he did so.

"No underwear," he breathed out to me in a questioning tone. I only smirked down at him in response, taking in his lust-filled eyes which widened a fraction at my actions. "God, you're so fucking hot."

I reached forward and gripped the bottom of his shirt in my hands. I slipped my hands underneath it and slowly ran my hands over his abs and up to his chest, pushing his shirt up with them. I then gripped it once again and pulled it off over his head. I looked down and ran my hands over his abs and up to his chest and down his arms.

“Right back at ya’, Rockstar,” I smirked at him.

Luke smiled up at me and went to lean in to kiss me again. I smiled back down at him and leaned in, letting our lips graze each other before placing my hands on his chest and pushing him down onto the mattress. Luke looked up at me wide-eyed as I leaned down and began leaving kisses along the span of his neck and down his chest. Luke groaned and bucked his hips up to meet mine again. I then began grinding myself down against him as I kissed down to his stomach. I looked up and made eye contact with him as I licked a trail up his abs, causing him to throw his head back with a groan. I kissed back down his abs to the top of his black jeans with his underwear peeking out of the top. I kissed along the top of his underwear and along his v-line before I pulled away. I reached down to remove his belt but paused at what I saw.

“A shoestring, really,” I sighed out in annoyance, looking at the knot tied in it.

Luke blushed up at me as he breathed heavily. “My belt would scratch against the back of my guitar and dig into my stomach while I was playing.”

I looked down at him in amusement before crawling up his body again and hovering above his face. “Well right now it’s an inconvenience,” I whispered to him, grazing a kiss against his lips before pulling away. I reached down and began trying to undo the knot holding his pants up. I sighed in annoyance at being unable to do so, causing me to look up at Luke who continued to look between my hands and my annoyed look in slight amusement. "This is starting to become a real turn-off." Luke threw his head back and laughed at me, causing me to huff and lean back down. "If your pants aren't off in the next 5 seconds you're going to have to handle your situation on your own," I whispered to him, gripping his bottom lip between my teeth and giving it a tug.

Luke's eyes widened at my words and he grabbed me by the waist and flipped us over. He was quick to stand from his place above me, causing me to lean up and look at him in amusement. I watched as he kicked his shoes from his feet, sending them in different directions in my room, while simultaneously trying to undo the knot in the shoestring holding up his pants. I threw my head back in amusement and smiled at him before moving to sit on my knees on the side of the bed. I watched him struggle before I heard him mutter a "fuck it" to himself and start to try to shove his jeans down his legs. I watched him struggle for a few more seconds before he was finally successful. He let out a noise of victory before kicking off his jeans and sending them flying across the room to a random place, much like his shoes.

Luke immediately stepped back towards me, looking up at me in my spot where I still knelt on the bed. I smiled down at him and brought my hand up to the side of his face, caressing his cheek with my thumb. Luke brought his hand up to rub up and down my arm before gripping my hand in his own. He brought his lips down to place a soft kiss on my palm before placing both hands on my waist. He gripped my tank top in his hands and pushed it up to my torso. He paused about halfway up and grabbed my waist in his hands.

I shivered at the feeling of his rings pressing lightly into my skin. Luke looked hesitant to lift my tank top up the rest of the way, and I bit my lip at the anticipation of what he could do next. I moved both of my hands to where his own was resting on my waist. I softly gripped his wrists and guided them to move farther up my waist, showing him that it was okay for him to continue. I let my hands run from his wrists, up to his arms, and around the back of his neck. I wrapped both my hands around his neck and pulled him closer to me. I rested my forehead against his own and the two of us continued breathing heavily before Luke leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against my lips. He pulled away and kept our foreheads pressed together as he slowly began to push my tank top the rest of the way up my body. He pulled away from me to pull my tank top over my head. He dropped it to the floor next to the bed and reached up to move my hair out of my face and tucked it softly behind my ears. He continued to look into my eyes as he placed his hands on my waist once again.

“You know you can look,” I whispered to him softly, running my right hand through his hair.

“Why would I look down when I have the most beautiful girl looking at me right now,” He whispered back to me.

I shook my head and laughed at him before moving my hand from his hair and placing it on his face, shoving it away from me. Luke laughed as well and turned back to look at me. He smiled up at me before moving up to place another kiss on my lips. One kiss turned into two. Two turned into three, then four, then five before he pulled away again and looked down at my bare chest. He let his right hand graze up my waist, causing me to shiver again. He looked up at me from under his eyelashes and let a smirk grace his face at my reaction to his touch. He stopped just underneath my breast and let his thumb graze underneath. I groaned at the soft touch and leaned forward to place my forehead against his again and wrapped my arms around his neck again.

“Fuck, Luke. Just touch me, please” I begged him, placing a peck on his lips.

Luke seemed like he was having an internal battle with himself. He moved his forehead from mine and placed it against my bare chest. I could feel his breathing against my breasts, causing me to let out another whimper. I trailed my right hand up into his hair and let it rest there. The only sound between us was our heavy breathing. Luke finally placed a peck on the top of one of my breasts and then the other before speaking again.

“Remember what I said earlier,” He whispered to me.

“You’ll have to remind me. There were a number of things you said earlier,” I breathed out to him.

“I said that I could handle any situation that has to do with you,” He reminded me. I held back a laugh at his reminder and waited for him to continue talking. “Turns out, you were right. I can’t handle any situation with you. Because I didn’t take into consideration how beautiful you could be without clothes too.”

“There’s no greater turn-on than a girl being told she’s right,” I joke with him, leaning down to place a kiss against his bare shoulder.

Luke chuckled against my chest before lifting his head up to look me in the eyes. “I wasn’t lying earlier either where I said if we start something I won’t be able to stop.”

“I don’t want you to stop. In fact, I don’t want you to waste any more time. I want you to throw me down on this bed and absolutely rock my world like the Rockstar you are.”

Luke widened his eyes at my words before grabbing my face and pulling me into a heated kiss much like the ones from before. I moaned into his mouth and reached forward to grip the waistband of his underwear. I slipped a finger underneath and pulled it before releasing it, causing it to snap against Luke’s waist. Luke moaned at my action and began climbing back up onto my bed. I shuffled backward on my knees to make room for him, never breaking the kiss as I did so. Luke placed his hands on my waist after his climb and slipped them underneath my shorts again. He gripped my ass cheeks in his hands before beginning to slide my shorts down my legs. He brought them down to my knees before placing his hands on my waist again. He then gripped them and threw me to his right onto my pillows. I leaned back into my pillows and got more comfortable as he started climbing over me quickly. He paused in his movements and pulled my shorts the rest of the way off, tossing them somewhere behind him.

“Shit. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” Luke groaned out, taking in my fully naked body.

“Imagine how much hotter I’ll be when you finally start to rail me,” I moaned out at him.

Luke moaned at the thought and leaned over me, placing his lip back on mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to where our chests were now touching. I moaned at the feeling of his necklace hanging down and rubbing along my cold chest as Luke moved from my lips down to the side of my neck. One of Luke’s hands moved from my waist and started making a trek up to my breast. He wasted no time gripping my breast gently in his hand and beginning to massage the mound in his hand. I moaned and trailed one of my hands up into his hair, gripping it tightly and giving it a tug. Luke held himself up with one hand as he started kissing from my neck down to my chest. He let his tongue trail over my chest until his mouth reached my right breast and let his tongue trail over my nipple briefly. I moaned at the feeling and closed my eyes as his mouth then wrapped around my right nipple. I could feel his teeth nipping and grazing the sensitive bud as he kneaded the other one before he switched between the two of them and repeated his actions again. I brought my legs up and wrapped them around his waist and took his distraction as a perfect opportunity to take control. I rolled the two of us over and looked down at Luke with a smirk.

“Hope you don’t mind if I take control again,” I breathed out, flipping my hair over one shoulder and then leaning down to kiss him again.

I started grinding my naked core against his still clothed dick and moaned at the feeling of his underwear rubbing against me. Luke reached up and gripped my hips, guiding me against him and setting a rhythm. I continued rolling my hips against his, him groaning, mixing with me letting out whimpers of pleasure and feeling his erection grow harder beneath me.

“Oh, fuck,” I breathed out against Luke’s lips.

Luke reached down and began rubbing from my clit to my entrance with his fingers, causing me to pause in my movements against him and place my head in the crook of his neck.

“Holy shit. You're so wet,” Luke said breathlessly, staring up at the ceiling as he continued his ministrations on my sensitive bud.

“Luke, I don't want to waste any more time with foreplay. Just pin me down to this bed and fuck me. I don't need time to adjust. I can take it,” I whimpered out to him, lifting my head from his neck to look at him.

“A-are you sure? Because I can make it quick,” Luke stuttered out quickly, letting one of his fingers slip into my soaking entrance.

I moaned and squeezed my eyes shut at the feeling before reaching down and gripping his wrist in my hand. I opened my eyes and looked Luke directly in his before withdrawing his finger from my aching cunt. I slowly brought his hand up to my mouth and delicately guided his finger in. I sucked myself from his finger and watched as Luke’s mouth dropped open as he watched me withdraw his finger from my mouth. I then gripped both of his hands in mine and pinned them down on the bed before leaning down closer to Luke. Our lips grazed each other and Luke leaned up to try to connect them, causing me to pull away quickly before leaning back down close to him. I gripped his bottom lip between my teeth and gave it a tug before releasing it.

“I am absolutely fucking positive that I want you to fuck me right now,” I whispered to him.

Luke gripped my hips in his hands and flipped us over once again. I stared up at him as he hovered over me before I gripped his necklace in my hand and pulled him down towards me. Luke connected our lips together softly and I reached down between us and gripped his hard member in my hand. I gave him a few pumps, causing Luke to pull away from our kiss and scrunch his face up in pleasure.

“I don’t have any condoms,” Luke groaned out.

I started laughing at him, causing him to look down at me in confusion. “We’re ghosts, Luke. We don’t need condoms. You think it’s possible to have a little ghost baby?”

Luke blushed when he realized what he said. “Give me a break. I’ve been dead for 25 years but thought it was still 1995 when I came back.”

I rolled my eyes at him before wrapping my arms around him and pulling him into another kiss. “It’s fine. Now rail me.”

Luke nodded and rested his forehead on mine before reaching down to line his member up with my entrance. Luke placed his lips back on mine as he slid himself inside of me, bottoming out in the single thrust. I released a moan into his mouth while Luke groaned and released a string of curse words. I felt a stinging pain for a few seconds before I began squeezing myself against his member.

“Shit, Charlotte,” Luke groaned when I did so.

“Your good to move. As I said, I don’t need time to adjust,” I whispered out to him breathlessly.

Luke nodded and pulled out before starting a slow, steady pace. I moaned at the feeling of him inside of me, completely filling me with ease.

“Is this alright,” Luke questioned me through a groan.

“Yes, Luke. Fuck. Yes. Keep going,” I moaned out to him, sliding my hands up into his hair, only causing him to pick up his pace.

I arched my back up into him at the sudden change in pace and squeezed myself against him once more. Luke groaned once again and I felt him twitch slightly inside of me due to my squeezing walls. Our chests rubbed against each other, causing me to moan at the feeling of Luke’s cold chain rubbing against me and my nipples rubbing against his chest every time he thrust.

“Fuck, Charlotte. Keep doing that,” Luke groaned out to me as he continued his thrusts.

“What,” I whimpered out to him.

“The squeezing. Keep fucking doing that. I’ve never had a girl do that before,” Luke moaned out to me.

“I will if you find a way to go deeper,” I moaned out to him.

Luke nodded, moving to change our position. Luke softly gripped one of my ankles in his hands and brought my leg up to rest over his shoulder. I cried out at the angle the new position provided, feeling Luke go deeper inside of me. Luke leaned down to place another kiss on my lips and I could feel him smirking through it. Luke increased his pace a little more once again and a sudden burst of new pleasure shoots through me when Luke suddenly places his finger against my clit and begins rubbing it in calculating motions.

“Luke, I still need more,” I whimpered out to him.

Luke leaned back up away from me, continuing his thrusts. I let out a scream at the intense pleasure I felt when Luke finally started hitting my g spot.

“Oh, fuck, Luke. Right there. Keep going. Don’t stop,” I screamed out to him.

I looked up at Luke to see him nodding at me, his face scrunched up from the pleasure being generated between the two of us. Luke's measured thrusts hitting my spot caused the pleasure to come over me faster, a knot beginning to build in my abdomen.

“Luke, I’m close,” I breathed out to him.

Luke groaned and sped up his ministrations on my clit and the speed of his hips. My breathing quickened at the intense pleasure between us, constant moans leaving my lips every time I breath out. Eventually, I finally reach the edge and fall over it, the intense pleasure I was already feeling multiplying by what felt like 1 million. I squeeze my eyes shut and my lips part as I release a moan and I feel the knot that was building inside of me snap. My muscles convulse and my walls begin fluttering around Luke. Luke performs a few more thrusts before he comes to a stop and releases himself inside of me. I moan at the feeling of him coating my insides, and more moans release from me as Luke thrusts a few more times to help the two of us through our highs. When we have both finished, Luke releases my leg from his shoulder and lets it drop to the bed before pulling out and letting himself drop to the bed next to me from exhaustion.

“Holy shit,” Luke breaths out, panting and staring up at the ceiling in euphoria.

“I think that’s the best sex I’ve ever had,” I panted out to him, causing him to release a laugh at my words.

He rolled onto his side and looked down at me with a smile on his face. I pushed his now sweaty hair off his forehead before leaning up to place another kiss on his lips.

“I’m gonna go get a washcloth to clean you up,” Luke whispered to me.

I nodded up at him with a blissed-out smile before moving to pull my covers out from my bed and get underneath them. Luke returned from my bathroom a few seconds later and pulled the sheets back before running the warm washcloth across my sensitive entrance. Once he was done he rolled the washcloth up and dropped it onto the floor next to my cardigan. He then reached down and gathered his underwear and his t-shirt. He pulled his underwear back on before offering me his t-shirt. I smiled at him in thanks and accepted it before pulling it on over my head. I then grabbed his hand and pulled him back into the bed next to me. Luke laid down in my bed and I shuffled closer to him, throwing my leg over his waist and cuddling into his side. Luke wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close and placed a kiss on my head before the two of us fell asleep together, looking forward to waking up next to each other in the morning.