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irkimatsu · 10 months ago

Note

You know how cats will nose bump/head bump their humans sometimes? Imagine drunk!husk doing that to his crush. Maybe reader helps him to his room and tries to tuck him in bed but he drags them down with him. Nuzzling and showing affections. Maybe they wake up in his arms and he's all flustered and reader tells him what happened. He's all embarrassed but reader just tells him that they feel the same way.

I went full on cute for this one. <3 Spicy implications but nothing actually happens, Husk is just drunk off his shit. Cuddling and nuzzling and confessions ensue. SFW, GN!Reader, about 1.7k words.

---

You’ve had a fun night out with the more adventurous members of the Hotel, but Husk has gone way too far this time.

What you expect from him when drinking is contradictory. You know he has a problem. He fully admits it, and refuses to get any help, insisting that he functions better at a certain level of drunkenness than he’s capable of while sober. You do have to admit, you’re darkly impressed at how much he can drink while still standing upright.

Because of this, you fully expect him to drink too much on nights out, but you never expect to see him full-on drunk.

You were the first one to notice his head dipping as he sat at the bar, shot glass in hand.

“Hey… ‘nother one!” he slurs out at no one in particular. “C’mon… glass is empty…”

You wonder if bars in Hell have a policy to not serve visibly intoxicated patrons, and if that’s why the bartenders appear to be ignoring him.

“Husk?” you say sweetly, as if speaking to a child, as you try to remove the glass from his hand. “I think you’ve had enough…”

“I’m fine,” he slurs as he tightens his grip on the glass. “Hey. Buy me another one.”

“No,” you say simply as you try prying his fingers off the glass. “This is too much, even for you.”

“I got this, baby, don’t worry…” he says, his voice growing rapidly more incoherent. “Just want another sip…”

“We’re going back to the hotel,” you say simply.

“No we’re not,” he protests. “Heeey… anyone? ‘Nother drink…?”

You decide to try a different tactic. “I want to go back to the hotel, and I don’t want to walk there alone.”

“Ohhh… okay, I gotcha.” He hops down from the stool, and you catch him under his arms before he can fall to the floor. “I’ll walk you home, then come back. Could use some air… it’s fine…”

“Thanks for walking me,” you say, letting him believe he’s in charge even as he slumps against your side and shuffles his way out of the bar. You catch Angel’s and Cherri’s attention on your way out, and upon seeing Husk’s current condition, they have no further questions about why you two are heading out.

Husk doesn’t speak much on the walk home from the Hotel; all you get out of him are a few pained groans. At one point he starts heaving, and you desperately hope for his sake that he’s not about to vomit in the middle of the sidewalk, but you thankfully manage to arrive home without incident.

“Okay. I gotcha home. I’m going back to the bar,” he says as soon as you bring him through the door. Despite his statement, he makes no motion to actually leave.

“Could you bring me up to my room?” you ask. “Make sure I get up the stairs okay?”

“You that drunk?” he asks. “Well, if ya are, yeah, I’ll help…”

You let him continue thinking he’s helping as you slowly walk him up the stairs. His head keeps dipping, and you wonder if he’s going to black out before you make it, but he’s still somewhat conscious by the time you make it to his door.

“You got your key?” he asks, seemingly unaware of where he is.

“Yeah. Just a second…” He thankfully doesn’t notice you slip your hand into his pocket for his card key. You unlock the door and drag him inside with minimal protest.

“All right, get some sleep… I’m just… gonna…” Still standing, he slumps further against your side and lets out a snore-like sound.

“Yeah. Get some sleep.” Assuming he’s fully lost consciousness by now, you drag him over to the bed. As you try to figure out how to get him onto the mattress in a halfway-comfortable position, he bumps his head into your neck and purrs.

“You smell nice…” he says with a laugh.

“Oh! Um… thank you…?” While you’re pretty sure Husk considers you a friend, he’s never been so openly complimentary before. “Here. I think you need to lay down…”

“Lay down? In your bed?” He laughs louder. “Ohhh… that’s why you wanted me to walk you home! Didn’t know you were so naughty…”

Your face turns beet red as you consider his implications. No. Absolutely not!

…not while he’s this drunk, anyway…

You try to shake that thought from your mind as you pull the covers back for him. “Here, I’ll help you up.” It’s difficult maneuvering him into the bed when he won’t stop nuzzling your neck, but soon you have his head resting on the pillows. You’re ready to walk away and never speak of this again, but before you can stand up straight, his arms wrap around your torso and rest his paws on your shoulder.

“Where ya goin’?” he asks. “Your bed’s right here…”

“I’m just- um-” you stammer. You can’t think of an excuse before he’s pulled you into his bed. You teeter precariously on the edge, only his arms preventing you from falling to the floor, as he keeps nuzzling under your chin.

“Mmm… soft…”

You could say the same thing as his fur brushes against your skin.

“Tell?”

“Thanks for letting me take you home…” he continues over the rumbling purring in his chest. “I thought you couldn’t tell…”

You cannot be thinking that about him right now.

“Tell that I like ya,” he says before lightly licking the side of your neck, the rough barbs on his tongue making your toes curl.

“But it’s so hard askin’...” He nuzzles your neck again. “Haaa… this feels damn good… I really, really like ya…”

His grip isn’t that strong. It’d be easy for you to scramble away from him, maybe slap him across the face for being too forward.

But now that you’re here, you may as well stay.

Instead of moving away from him, you try to climb over him to get to the other side of the bed. He laughs and squeezes you tight once your body is above his.

“Mmm! Ready for that already? C’mon, we just got here… at least let me kiss ya first…”

He doesn’t try anything further as you attempt to move, and his grip opens easily enough to allow you to lay down on the other side of the bed. He doesn’t protest the changed position, but he does immediately cling to you again, this time nuzzling into your chest as he continues purring.

He looks so relaxed and at peace that you can’t help yourself. You slightly scratch behind one of his ears, causing him to purr louder and press more closely against you.

“Yeah, baby, that’s the spot…”

You wrap your other arm around his torso, and he moans.

“Babe…” he exhales as moves up to your neck and nuzzles there again. “I really… really like ya…” His voice fades away as he falls unconscious, still purring and pressing into you. If he expected anything else to come of tonight, it’s not happening now.

You don’t mind sleeping here for the night.

—

You wake up to a loud, pained groan.

“My fucking head…”

You roll over to see Husk sitting up, clutching his face in both paws. “How much did I fucking drink?” he asks himself. “How did I even-” He freezes, then slowly turns his head toward you. You both stare at each other in silence, his eyes wide as saucers.

“...what the fuck happened last night,” he asked, “and how can I apologize for it?”

“You’re fine,” you assure him. “I helped you get home last night. Do you remember leaving the bar?”

He shakes his head, only to wince in pain from the gesture.

“Not surprised. You were really far gone.”

“Fuck… I don’t like blacking out around other people…” he grumbles. “Next question… why are you here?”

“I walked you home and brought you to bed, and you didn’t want me to go,” you say. “And I guess I didn’t want to go either…”

His voice is stern and panicked now. “What the hell did I do? I swear to god, if I forced anything, I’ll-”

“You didn’t force anything!” you insist. “We just cuddled.”

He sighs in relief. “If you were okay with it, I guess that’s fine…”

“And you told me you liked me.”

“...okay, would have preferred to admit that while I could remember it…”

“...and you kept nuzzling my neck.”

Husk frowns, and his brow furrows. “Nuzzling.”

“Yeah. You were really into it, too.”

“Jesus Christ.” He returns his face to his hands. “I’d rather you told me we fucked.”

“What’s wrong with it?” you ask. “It was cute.”

“Exactly. I hate being a fuckin’ animal…”

You sit up next to him and wrap your arm around him from behind. “Husk…”

“Nuzzling. Nuzzling. I finally let you know how much I like you after months, and it’s because I got drunk and nuzzled you. What the hell kind of flirting method is that?!” He’s getting increasingly worked up. “Nuzzling! Who does that?!”

“Husk!” You call for him more loudly this time, snapping him out of his rant. “Husk, it’s fine! I thought it was sweet. And if I really didn’t want to, I always could have left.”

“Some first impression as a potential partner that was. Nuzzling… if we do get together I’m gonna need to cut that shit out…”

“No you’re not!” you assure him. “I know you’re… sensitive about it… but I like you, Husk. I like all of you. Even the cat parts.”

“Trust me, if we were still on Earth I would have made a way better confession. Might have even been somewhat sober for it.”

“I like the confession you gave me just fine.” You pull his head down onto your shoulder and hug him tight. “And if we’re gonna be together… I’d like it if you embraced who you are and how you show affection. I want every side of you.”

He doesn’t respond… but you can see that he’s eyeing your neck and waving his tail. “...so, um…”

“Go ahead.”

He hesitates for a second more before nuzzling into your neck again. You laugh at the ticklish feeling as you hold him tight. “Heh… I can smell me on you,” he says. “I kinda like it…”

You stroke behind his ears as he settles into comfort against you. “Enjoy it as much as you want…”

You just know that the longer you spend here with him, the more questions Angel and Cherri are going to ask your both as soon as you finally make it to the lobby.

It’ll be worth the questioning.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers #irk huskposts

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 11 months ago

Text

THTH 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Ransom Drysdale

Summary: You have a secret, but what do you do when it threatens to come out.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

“Ugh, goddamn it,” you hiss as you reach your phone to the sky. The signal is shit around here. You watch the little circle, waiting for a check mark to appear; nothing.

Three days. The bandwidth has been in and out for three days and you haven’t been able to upload a single thing. Not even a message. This is dumb. You growl at your phone and toss it on your bed. It bounces and hits the wall.

You huff and cross your arms. It’s not fair. Those three days could’ve made you money. You can’t even leech off the library wifi because of the content filters. So ridiculous. You’re just trying to make a living.

A tap comes at the door and you flinch. You quickly scoop up your phone and go to the door. You tuck it in your back pocket and pull your shirt down to cover the top. You open the door and peek out at your mom.

“Everything okay?” She asks.

“Uh, yep, just dropped something.”

“Oh, nothing broke, I hope.”

“All good,” you smile. She chews her lip anxiously, as she often does. “I’ll be down for dinner soon. Smells good.”

“Alright,” she says, “it’s almost done. Your favourite; spaghetti and meatballs.”

“Mmm, awesome.”

You shut the door and roll your eyes. Spaghetti isn’t your favourite. It’s what she says is your favourite. Just like everything else, it has to fit within her rules. If she says you like yellow, well then, you like yellow. It isn’t worth the argument to have a personality.

You take out the phone again. You nearly squeal as the check mark turns green. It sent! Just a text post notifying your few followers of the unexpected technical difficulties. You’ll be fortunate if they don’t bleed off to the other girls. When there’s so much variety, you can’t expect horny men not to hop on the next page with a pretty girl in lacy underwear…or less.

You scroll down but the rest of the posts show the blank blocks, pulsing as they struggle to load. You check the menu. Signal’s gone again. Welp, at least that went through.

You go to your bed and hide your phone under the mattress. Your parents know about your laptop, that’s your alibi. You tell them you do transcription work online. That doesn’t pay enough so you have the secret phone for your real business; you.

It isn’t exactly a career but it’s a means to an end. You’ll save up enough and be out of Hammer Ford in no time. You’re almost twenty and running out of time. A gap year is expected, but two? That’s sad.

Besides, you’re done with this life. You need out of this house. You are an adult. Your parents can’t make you eat your peas or ban you from the romance section in the library. One day, hopefully soon, you’ll be free.

For now, you’re going to go downstairs and pretend your mother’s spaghetti and meatballs isn’t complete mush.

📱

Days pass as you stare helplessly at the flashing bars in the corner of your phone. Damn phone company. The data plan was supposed to be a backup, even if you could only afford the cheapest vendor on the market. You at least thought it would work!

You manage to get a decent signal up on Thunder Lane by the hotel. It might be worth it to just walk in and get their wifi. You don’t think they’d care much. There aren’t many guests passing through now, are there?

The only benefit of your forced break is how much time it gave you to create new content. You choose the set of photos you took with the bunny ears and the barely there white teddy. You quickly flick through the settings and set the paywall. At least you’ll have money coming in before…

Yep, no internet. You’re lucky even that went through. You roll your eyes and hop back in the family oldsmobile. Your mother doesn’t let you have it often but you told her you were going for coffee and would fill up the tank.

As you roll up to the sleepy main row of Hammer Ford, your phone vibes. You quickly put it back to silent and check the notification. Your data’s flickering as you see the first response to your post. That was quick. Turns out someone did miss you.

_ransom_ware commented: ‘welcome back, bunny’.

You tap on the bubble but the app won’t load. Damnit! At least you have automatic deposit enabled. His tip will hit your account in a couple days.

You get out of the car and cross the street to the bakery. You could butter your mom up with some tarts, maybe convince her to let you take the car into the city. That might be your best chance at catching up. You could schedule posts and not have to fight with the damn countryside desolation.

As you enter the bakery, it’s quiet. There’s one person at a table. You don’t recognise him. He has his back to you so you don’t think much of it. Probably just another lumber worker sating their repressed sweet tooth. Although, he is dressed a bit too nice for that. No plaid or denim? Huh.

You go up to the counter and order a half-dozen cherry tarts and a latte. You pay with the secret credit card you use for your online transactions and thank the girl behind the counter. As you turn, you find the man at the table turned in his seat. He glances at you as you carry out the tray of tarts and coffee.

You’re used to the stares. The men in Hammer Ford aren’t exactly subtle and your nights at The Horn have earned you a reputation, though those stories don’t make it past your front door. It’s just a little fun, you have a pint and tie your shirt above your belly button and dance. Nothing serious.

Your mom and dad are too chaste and pious to ever wander into the bar. It’s your escape, your safe space. Just for now. Just until you can get out of this hell hole.

#ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #dark!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #drabble #series #au #backwoods au #thth #knives out

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overtake · 5 months ago

Text

I got another nice ask about the hockey au and immediately decided I have no choice but to post another snippet. The context here is just Max and Daniel hanging out in one of their hotel rooms on the road.

“Drive to Survive is dramatic and a disservice to the sport,” Max frowns. He looks like a disgruntled kitten.

“I think it’s fun and we need hockey reality TV.”

Max shivers. “No thank you.”

“I think I’d be good TV,” Daniel muses. “Like, imagine me on Survivor. I’d be great.”

“You are scared of everything and allergic to everything,” Max deadpans. “You would not last a day.”

Daniel boos him. “You’re just jealous because you’d be terrible on reality TV.”

Max wrinkles his nose. “I’d rather become a goalie than have to do something like that.”

“Didn’t Amazon do some documentary thing on the team a few years ago?”

Max rolls his eyes. “It was very stupid. The team wouldn’t let my manager veto all the footage of me and all they recorded was us losing again instead of a big playoff journey. Very exciting stuff.”

“So you watched it,” Daniel grins, poking at Max’s ribcage. He can see a hint of a smile breaking through, but Max controls the expression.

“The team watched the first episode together. They did a whole segment about Antonio getting a haircut. It was terrible TV.”

“We’re watching it together now,” Daniel decides, reaching over Max to grab the remote. Max lets out a protest, grabbing Daniel’s wrists and stopping them in their tracks, then belly flops over the remote.

“Absolutely not,” he says.

“You think you can stop me?” Daniel asks, waggling his eyebrows. “I watch UFC. You’re going down.”

“My left pinky is sturdier than you,” Max taunts. “Try me, mate.”

Daniel plunges his hands under Max’s stomach with no warning, brushing past warm skin until he feels the hard plastic of the remote. Max shoves his body against the force of Daniel’s arms, easily shifting him away without much effort at all.

They scrap and scramble, but Max overpowers him easily, pressing Daniel facedown into the mattress with his thick thighs on either side of Daniel’s back and Daniel’s wrists pinned firmly into the bed.

“We’ll watch something action,” Max decides, as if Daniel can even remember what they were fighting about when the weight of Max’s body is heavy against his back. He can feel Max’s fingers permanently imprinting their shape on his bones, his body memorizing how it feels to be overpowered and held down by Max Verstappen so it can relive the memories even after Max rolls off him and turns on the first shitty movie he can find.

“Are you alive over there?” he asks when Daniel still hasn’t moved, a little afraid to adjust and find that his shorts have tightened around his crotch.

“All good,” Daniel manages, doing a weird tuck and roll to scramble under the covers as quickly as possible and discreetly ensure he’s not half-hard.

“Good idea,” Max says. Before Daniel can panic that he means the dick check, Max crawls under the doona with him, arms pressed tight against each other. Daniel is wearing a jumper to combat the intense hotel AC, but he can feel Max’s warmth through the material.

Max gives him a small smile, dropping his head to Daniel’s shoulder for half a second, then turns his attention to the CGI explosion on the screen.

Daniel isn’t sure he manages to take his eyes off Max for the rest of the night.

#i swear i'll stop now #just want to do anything but work #hockey au #maxiel #fics

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earthtoharlow · 7 months ago

Text

Don’t Like The Lights

Sequel to Flashing Lights series, must read Flashing Lights first to understand

Series Masterlist

6. Everything

No one can make the day feel like a couple hours the way you do I know forever wouldn't give me enough time to spend with you.

Jack sighed as walked down the long hallway towards the hotel suite. The day began with him getting ready for the Givenchy show and immediately after the show he had to start rehearsing for his surprise performance at the Global Citizens concert that was scheduled for tomorrow. After he left rehearsals he went out to dinner with Taylor Rocks. He was exhausted, and ready to collapse into bed.

He finally reached the door, sliding the key card through the lock and stepped inside. Maryse was already in bed, tucked underneath the covers. She looked up and smiled as he entered the room, a sight that immediately lifted the weight off his shoulders.

“Long day, huh?” She said softly

Jack sighed, kicking off his shoes. “You have no idea, I feel like I’ve been on my feet for 24 hours straight.”

Maryse laughed, “That can’t be true. I’m sure you sat down at the fashion show.”

He grinned and pinched her side, making her squirm and giggle. “Okay, maybe I did sit down for a bit.”

After going to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change into his pajamas, Jack climbed into bed beside her, the mattress sinking comfortably under his weight. Maryse snuggled closer, resting her head on his chest. The familiar warmth of her body against his was the comfort he needed after a taxing day.

“I missed you today. We didn’t get to do any exploring,” she murmured.

“Yeah.” He agreed, wrapping his arm around her and kissing the top of her head. “I was looking forward to seeing the city with you.”

Maryse closed her eyes as Jack absentmindedly traced patterns on her arm, his mind wandering over the events of the day. Despite the fatigue, he was content in this quiet moment with her.

“How was dinner with Taylor and THE Halle Berry?” She asked, breaking the silence.

Jack smiled as he thought about how nice the evening was after a long busy day. “It was good. Taylor is always great company. And Halle Berry was so nice. You would’ve loved it.”

“I wish I could’ve gone,” she said wistfully. “But I’m glad you had a good time.”

“I missed you, though,” he admitted. “Next time, you’re definitely coming.”

They spent the next hour talking about their day before drifting off to sleep as they both had another busy day ahead of them.

The next morning Maryse wakes up to the smell of breakfast food filling the air. She reached out instinctively, expecting to find Jack beside her, but the space next to her was empty. Sitting up, she noticed a folded note on his pillow.

She picked up the note and unfolded it.

“Good morning, beautiful.

I wanted to do something special today because it’s the anniversary of our first kiss and the day we got together. (And no, those three months apart don’t count!) Enjoy your breakfast, and I’ll be back soon.

Love, Jack.”

Maryse could feel tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. Without a second thought, she grabbed her phone and dialed his number.

Jack picked up after a few rings, his voice warm as he spoke into the phone. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

She smiled through her tears. “Good morning. I just read your note. You’re so sweet, you know that? And I didn’t forget about our anniversary.”

He chuckled softly. “It’s okay if you did. I know how busy we both are.”

“No, seriously,” she insisted. “I have a gift for you.”

“Oh really? Now I’m intrigued,” he replied, a hint of playful curiosity in his voice. “Did you like the breakfast?”

“I haven’t had it yet. I wanted to call you first. Thank you for this. It means a lot to me.”

“Anything for you,” he replied softly. “I know I won’t see you until the concert later but I just wanted to give you a little surprise to start your day.”

“You definitely did. I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go enjoy your breakfast, and I’ll see you later.”

JACKHARLOW

liked by urbanwyatt, druski, mariahthescientist, saweetie, dojacat, usher, latto777, champagnepapi and 60,567 others

jackharlow: a year ago I kissed this angel at a Drake concert. Everyday she’s made me feel like I can do anything I want, I love our life and what we’re creating. I can’t wait for the many many many many many more years with you 🥹 // first photo taken by Urban obviously

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user: goals

user: she quite literally fell in love with you

user: omg my parents 😭

saweetie: thank you for keeping my girl happy

user: thank god they’re back together

user: the second photo 😂

champagnepapi: destined to stay together forever

lifeofmonet: my soulmate, my forever 💜

lifeofmonet: was the second photo necessary?

Since Jack was a surprise performance he couldn’t watch Maryse perform from the crowd so he stood hidden backstage to watch her.

Standing there, he couldn’t help but reflect on how crazy the last year had been. The arguments and the moments of doubt, the breakup and the reconciliation. They had faced so many high and lows, professionally and personally, it felt like a lifetime had passed in just twelve months.

No one made him happier than Maryse Monet and as he watched her work the crowd he felt a surge of pride. Maryse had come so far, and he was grateful to be part of her journey. He then suddenly became very aware of the small box in his pocket, the longer it stayed in his pocket the heavier it felt.

Soon her set was over and the crowd erupted into applause. Maryse took a moment to catch her breath, her eyes scanning the backstage area where she knew he would be. She blew him a kiss, and Jack caught the kiss and placed it in the exact pocket with the small box.

As she exited the stage, he met her with open arms, pulling her into a tight embrace. “You were incredible,” he whispered into her ear.

She smiled, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “Thank you. I saw you watching me.”

“Always,” he replied, kissing her forehead. “I was just thinking about how crazy this last year has been. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

“Me neither,” she said softly, resting her head against his chest. “We’ve been through a lot, but we’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

They shared a kiss before deciding that after Jack’s performance they would return back to their hotel. Both eager to exchange gifts in the comfort of their matching pajamas (that Maryse insisted that they wore.) At first they were going to get dinner but quickly changed their mind when they realized they didn’t want to be around people or a crowd so they decided to just order room service.

Sitting on the plush sofa, Maryse handed him a small wrapped box, bouncing in excitement.

“What’s this?” he asked, taking the box from her hands.

“Just open it,” she urged, biting her lip as she watched him carefully unwrap the gift.

Inside the box was a custom-made Rolex watch. The sleek design was classic and elegant, with an engraving on the back that read. “loving you for a long time.” With the date they actually met. He looked at it in surprise, turning it over in his hands to read the inscription.

“I know you’re not big on jewelry outside of your Kentucky chains,” Maryse began to ramble, “but I thought this might be something you’d like. It’s special, like you, and it commemorates the day we met, which—”

Jack cut her off with a kiss, deep and passionate, silencing her nervous chatter. When they finally broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers.

“It’s perfect,” he said softly, his voice filled with emotion. “Thank you.”

She smiled, relieved and happy. “I’m glad you like it. I wanted to give you something that would always remind you of us.”

He fastened the watch around his wrist, admiring it. “I love it. And I love you.” Maryse reached for his arm. She pressed a soft kiss on his wrist, right where the watch sat.

“So, what did you get me?” She asked him, not seeing a gift near him.

“Nothing.” Jack said with a smirk to hide his nervousness but it was quickly wiped off his face when she kicked him slightly with her cold feet.

“Ow! I was just joking.”

“Shut up, that did not hurt!”

Jack huffed and the nervousness settled in again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He held it out to her, a nervous but determined look in his eyes.

She looked at the box, then back at him, her eyes wide with surprise. “Jack?”

He opened the box to reveal a beautiful, delicate ring. A sparkling ruby, her birthstone, set in the center. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at it, and for a moment, she was speechless.

“It’s a promise ring,” he explained quickly, sensing her shock. “I know it’s not an engagement ring, but I wanted to give you something that symbolizes how serious I am about us. I don’t want to be with anyone else but you. Our time apart really made me realize that. I want us to keep building our future together.”

He started to ramble, “I mean, I know we’ve only been back together for a while, but I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I just… I love you so much, The ruby represents you, and the ring symbolizes my promise to be with you, no matter what.”

Maryse smiled, tears welling up in her eyes. “You know, if this was an engagement ring, I don’t think I would’ve said no.”

He laughed softly, relieved and touched before slipping the ring on her finger. “One step at a time,” he said, leaning in to kiss her again. “But I promise, one day.”

She looked at the ring, her fingers tracing the ruby set within it. “I’m never going to take this off,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

He smiled, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Good,” he said softly. “Because I never want you to.”

Maryse's heart felt so full as she looked into Jack’s eyes. “I love you,” she said, her voice steady and sure.

“I love you too,” he replied, pulling her closer. “Forever.”

He pulled her up from the sofa and kissed her deeply, the warmth of his lips igniting a familiar spark between them. “Now,” he murmured against her lips, “let’s celebrate our anniversary with fewer clothes.”

She laughed softly, her heart racing. The playful glint that Jack loves so much crossed her eyes. “You’re such a horn dog.” Her words, not matching her actions as her hands move to tug at his shirt.

Jack chuckled, pressing another kiss to her lips. “Only for you,” he replied, his voice low as he climbed on top of her as she flopped down on the mattress.

***

After spending an extra day in Paris they were finally back home in Kentucky. Maryse was in the final stages of her album so she decided to celebrate by having a self care day while Jack was out playing indoor soccer. They would be traveling to Vegas next week and she needed new clothes. As she was getting ready to leave she FaceTimed Jack letting him know where she was if he returned home while she was out.

“Hey, I’m heading out to the outlets to pick up a few things,” she told him while slipping on her shoes.

Jack whipped the sweat off his forehead as paused for a moment. “Maybe you should take some security with you. Especially with how much paparazzi have been hackling you. Just to be safe.”

The last couple of weeks had been particularly intense. While she was in California, paparazzi had followed her everywhere she went. The constant attention was exhausting. But she was just going to the mall, so there was no point in bringing security.

Maryse shook her head slightly. “I’ll be fine. It’s just a quick shopping trip. I’ll be back home soon.”

Jack sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing. Maryse was fiercely independent, and once she made up her mind, it was nearly impossible to change it. “Alright, but please be careful.”

“Always,” she promised before hanging up.

It was nice to have some time to herself, even if it was just for a little while. She loved her life and her relationship, but moments like these, where she could just be alone with her thoughts and enjoy a bit of normalcy, were precious. That was one of her favorite things about living in Kentucky now, most people treated her like she was normal, not a celebrity. Here, she was just another person living her life.

As she was leaving the mall and heading towards her car, she felt a sense of relief. It had been a pleasant outing, and she was looking forward to getting home and showing Jack the new outfits.

Maryse hopped into the driver seat after putting her bags in the backseat. As she was getting herself together, a sudden knock on the window startled her. She let out a small scream, her heart racing as she turned to see who it was.

A fan stood there, looking excited but not apologetic. She rolled down the window slightly, trying to regain her composure.

“Can I get a hug and a photo?” the fan asked, their voice eager and insistent.

Despite her initial fright, she didn’t want to disappoint anyone. She nodded, she stepped out of the car, keeping her keys in her hand. “Sure, but please be quick,” she said, trying to keep her tone friendly.

The fan moved in for a hug, wrapping their arms around her tightly. It was much tighter than she was comfortable with, and the hug lingered a bit too long.

She felt a sense of unease creeping up her spine as the fan clung to her, almost as if they didn’t want to let go. She gently pulled back, offering a nervous smile as she posed for the selfie.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, her voice slightly strained as she quickly got back into her car. She locked the doors immediately and took a deep breath, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling.

As Maryse was rolling up her window and preparing to drive away, the fan knocked on the window again, this time pointing to her hand. “Nice ring.” they commented their tone carrying an edge that made her uncomfortable.

She quickly hid her hand, forcing a smile. “Thanks. Well, I have to go now. Have a nice day!” she said, her voice wavering slightly.

The fan nodded, stepping back as Maryse drove away. The sense of contentment she felt earlier was now overshadowed by the fan encounter. She couldn’t help but think about Jack's words from this morning. Maybe he was right; maybe she did need to be more careful, even in places where she felt safe.

When she got home, she decided not to mention what happened. She didn’t want to hear him say, “I told you so,” and she didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily. So, she kept it to herself, putting on a bright smile as she walked into their home.

“Hey, babe,” she called out, setting her bags down. “I’m back!”

He walked over, giving her a kiss on the lips “How was shopping?”

“It was good,” she replied, her smile never wavering. “Got a few things for our trip to Vegas.”

“Are you gonna give me a show with those new outfits?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

She looked up at him, “Maybe,” she replied, biting her lip as she pulled away from his kiss, leaving him wanting more.

“Come on,” he coaxed, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Just a little preview?”

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’ll have to be patient,” she said, enjoying the way his eyes darkened.

He groaned in mock frustration, leaning in to steal another kiss. “You’re such a tease,” he murmured against her lips.

“And you love it,” she shot back, giving him a quick peck before slipping out of his grasp and heading towards their bedroom. “Now, how about you help me put these away?”

Jack immediately followed her down the hallway and as they spent the evening together, Maryse tried to push the unsettling fan out of her mind, instead focusing on how safe she felt with Jack around her.

***

AN: 🫣 so tell me what you think, a lot to talk about thank you to my babe @harlowsbby for helping me ily

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fairybinie · 2 years ago

Text

feels like home // c.sb

wc: 1.1k genre: fluff warnings: kissing, pet names

taglist: @iyeonjuni @odxrilove @iuwon @ijhyo @cherr-y-eji @ameliesaysshoo @enhacolor @misscalcutta @cherrybeomgyu @wccycc @hyukabean @strawberri-uyu @hyuntaena @feyregels @boba-beom @luvnhwa @ericyjun @tyungun @ashxkook @bibinnieposts @laylasbunbunny @shiguresohmas @notdrunkbutdazed @stepout-09-15 @ox1-lovesick @soobsdior @ifwtyun @peachy-yabbay @sunlightwoo @fairyoftaehyun @rikijackson04

a/n: happy birthday to our home soobin, my biggest source of comfort <3

...

you and soobin rest comfortably on your hotel bed as you watch some cable tv, a random drama playing on the screen. you’ve never seen it before, but it’s managed to capture your attention and you're reeled in.

you’ve been away from home for a few months, deciding to support your boyfriend with his tour. it was a decision that needed some rationality, but you ultimately went with the risk. the risk of not seeing your family and friends everyday, encountering new timezones, becoming homesick. of course the pressure of not wanting your relationship to get out could be burdensome, but the staff managed to pull you off as someone’s daughter and it made you less anxious.

safe to say, there were some rough moments, but there were also some things that rewarded you. such as being here for soobin’s birthday.

soobin reaches for the remote that’s buried under the covers and you hear the volume progressively get lower, leading you to look at him for answers. you munch into the cake on your plate as you gaze at him with furrowed eyebrows that fold deep into your eye crevices, a pout forming on your lips.

“he was just about to confess!” you exclaim as you point to the tv in a hurry. the cake that’s still in your mouth makes your voice sound muffled, some frosting hidden in the corner of your lips.

soobin looks at you amusingly while he wipes the mess on your lip, to your embarrassment. “so do i.”

you let your guard down after sensing soobin’s shift in tone and you relax your muscles. after a long and eventful day full of birthday plans, you wonder what’s on his mind.

“i’m sorry you’re not home right now,” soobin says almost in a whisper, fixing his eyes on your sweater to avoid looking into yours. you can’t help but tilt your head in confusion as you examine his behavior even more. still, you have no idea where this is coming from.

“what do you mean?” you ask, placing your hand onto his that was on top of the mattress. soobin closes his eyes as he tucks his lips closed, anguished about his own feelings.

“you’ve been with us- with me, for a couple months now,” soobin begins, now looking at your hand touching his instead. “i know you’ve missed being home, and the holidays approaching probably doesn’t make it any better.”

you start to understand where your boyfriend is coming from. you have been honest about being homesick every now and then, each state you’ve visited somehow reminds you of your family. soobin also wasn't as enthusiastic about his birthday like he’d usually been, earning a couple questions from you today. as it unfolds, it makes sense.

you don’t hesitate to reply.

“soob,” you remove your hand on top of his and move them to cup soobin’s face, now making eye contact. his cheeks are flushed with a tint of pink, the nickname you have for him sends warmth through his body.

“i do miss home,” you give into some honesty, which makes him temporarily regretful. “but i miss it a little less when i’m with you.”

you see the softness take over your boyfriend’s eyes as he comprehends where you’re going with this. his gaze flickers down for a moment before he looks at you again, excitedly waiting for more.

“to me, home isn’t just a place,” your words unfold like a poem. “it’s the people. it’s a feeling. being with you has made me realize that.”

“it has?” soobin’s face lights up like a child’s on christmas day. he never thought he’d have the power to make someone, especially someone as special as you, come to that realization. the boy adores you to the moon and back.

you hum in response as you stand up on your two feet, to which soobin follows. you guide him with your intertwined hands and make your way to stand in front of the hotel windows. it’s snowing where you currently are, the streetlights capturing each white speck beautifully. soobin looks straight in front of him, then at you.

“i used to hate snow,” you confide as your eyes focus on the snowfall landing on each building. you’re aware you have a pair of eyes set on you so you continue.

“how i get cold easily and as soon as one drop gets on me i think it’s the end of the world. but being here with you, suddenly i can tolerate it. seeing you be so enthusiastic because you barely get to experience it makes me feel happy. seeing you do what you love on stage, makes me feel happy. being together with you everyday makes me feel happy.”

at this moment you’re fully facing soobin and you step closer towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck to which he rests his on your waist, a common instinct.

“it feels like home.”

you place your forehead on his and you can hear soobin’s heart beat with love, the cool breath of air escaping from his nose from overwhelmed emotions. “you feel like home, you are my home. so don’t ever apologize to me about missing home when i have you, okay?”

“okay,” soobin replies shyly. although you’ve been dating for a while, he still can’t manage to accept compliments cooly. especially to this extent. “i love you.”

“i love you too pretty boy,” you egg on with soobin’s emotions, fully knowing it’ll drive him even more insane. at least you got the message across. “want a kiss in the snow?”

the boy’s eyes widen as he glances over at the window again, looking back at you stunned. “you want to go outside in this weather?”

you sneakily escape from his hold as you walk over to the bed where your piece of cake was waiting for you. you swipe some frosting on your finger and return to the lost boy, barely noticing what you’re doing. you wipe the frosting on his nose and he flinches from the touch, just realizing your actions.

“a kiss in the snow,” you remark, comparing the frosting to the actual thing. soobin catches your drift and gives in with a smile.

he leans forward and your lips lock together, moving together in a perfect pace. everything feels cozy. the kiss itself, your attire, how your clothes snug in all the right places. certainly feels like home.

you two pull away and you can feel some substance on the bridge of your nose, realizing that the frosting got on you too. soobin notices this and can’t help but chuckle, you doing so as well. you return to your abandoned bed, cuddling underneath the sheets as you dig into the piece of cake together, returning back to your show. your evening plans continue from where they left off, this time with a more cherishable feeling.

...

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years ago

Text

HSLOT PHILLY

Like, comment, share, and come talk if you enjoyed the fic.

I write for free - so if you would like to support my work, you can donate here.

Harry is predictable.

He falls into the same patterns during every tour since he was on the Up All Night with One Direction.

The excitement that comes with the first couple of shows begins to fade as he starts his world wide tour that doesn’t end for nearly eight months.

His constant adrenaline wears off and his exhaustion from not having toured in two years settles deep in his bones.

YN senses it from a mile away, has nearly eleven years experience dealing with her jet-lagged, exhausted, and stubborn husband.

It hits the day of the Philadelphia show, they got in late the night before, and YN always set her alarm for seven thirty in the morning to workout.

Ninety-five percent of the time, Harry got up with her and they either did a jog around the new city or they took advantage of the in-hotel gym.

Four percent of the time, he would whine and tug the comforter over his head, whimpering, “M’too tired, baby. Stay in bed w’me.”

And then the one percent, which was today.

The alarm emits a low, constant beep that rouses YN, in the time she takes to rub her eye and come back into reality - Harry hisses with a sharp edge, “Turn tha’ fuckin’ thing off.”

She bites her tongue at his tone, reaching to turn it off but she can already tell what day they’re going to have.

YN slips out from under the covers and automatically gets a comment from her husband, it another whiney demand, “Cover m’feet, y’too the blanket off them.”

“Yes, your majesty,” YN replies reproachfully, rearranging the blankets before quietly moving around the room to change.

“Stop makin’ so much noise.”

“Turn off tha’ light.”

“S’too early f’this, d’you not care that m’tired?”

She chooses to ignore the remarks, hoping that he can sleep off the attitude.

When YN is about to leave, he grumbles, “Y’need to kiss me goodbye.”

Harry purses his lips for a soft kiss, not moving a muscle, and after that - she leaves to head down to the gym.

YN is required a body guard, definitely when she isn’t with Harry or a group of people, and she decided not to follow those rules today.

She had her TPWK water bottle in hand, a cute workout set on ***, and her AirPods tucked in her ear with some Spice Girls playing.

It’s only about twenty minutes into her exercise, a light jog on the treadmill, that a young girl slips up beside the machine.

YN is kind, stopping the belt to smile for a selfie before the girl scampers off and she resumes her run - music blasting.

However, what YN didn’t know, is that fans had found out early in the morning which hotel they where at and a hoard was rushing towards the small gym.

It’s not even ten minutes later when a swarm of fans in rushing into the work area, lining up around her machine with their phones flashing and recording.

She tries to be nice, “Hey! Uh, I’m just trying to workout. I’m sorry, but no pictures please.”

Then there is loud protest and people shoving each other, begging and pleading for a selfie or for her to sign something - all because she was Harry’s wife.

There is literally no exit to escape to, so she relents and anxiously calls Frank - one of the body guards - to come retrieve her.

The whole way back up to her hotel room, Frank is lecturing her about safety and how she could have gotten hurt.

And when he scans the keycard for her hotel room, she feels her stomach drop because Harry is sat against the kitchen counter.

His brown locks are rumpled and going every which way, just in his briefs that are low on his narrow hips, and absolutely irate expression on his face.

“Are y’fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” Harry snaps, brow furrowed and jaw clenched - his arms were crossed tightly against his chest.

“Good morning to you, sunshine,” YN mutters, shutting the door and kicking off her tennis shoes to the side.

“Don’t,” Harry replies sourly, “Please explain t’me why I get woken up by Frank to be told y’getting mobbed in the gym? And y’didn’t to call him.”

YN bristles at his tone, giving him a pointed look as she steps further into the room, “It’s not a big deal. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“Y’right about that, y’weren’t thinkin’. It is a big deal, y’could have gotten hurt - shouldn’t have t’babysit m’own wife,” Harry huffs, stomping back over to the bed and sliding back under the covers.

“You better watch your tone-“

They’re interrupted with a knock to their door, Harry throws the covers over his head and leaves YN to open the door.

It’s Jeff, who barges in with a coffee in one hand, “Come on, H. Did you forget? You have soundcheck early today and then you have to meet with FullStop to review the details of that new merchandise contract.”

“No, move it,” The popstar groans, muffled from the heavy blankets over him, and his manager and wife give each other a knowing look.

“We can’t. Get up, we need to leave in fifteen,” Jeff replies casually, unbothered as he sips from his to-go mug.

It has Harry dramatically ripping off the covers and getting out of bed, as he charges off towards the bathroom, he shouts backwards, “Wish someone would have fuckin’ told me! Like m’manager or m’wife!”

“Oh my god, here we go,” YN groans quietly to Jeff, snatching up the few things she needs for the venue as well as Harry’s and shoving them in his duffle.

He comes out a few moments later, dressed in running shorts and a vintage Queen shirt - going to tug on his Nikes without a word to either.

But in true Harry fashion, even when he’s mad, he’s still a gentleman. He slips the duffle off his wife’s shoulder so she doesn’t have to carry it.

“Thank you,” She murmurs but he avoids eye contact, being the first to open the hotel room and trudge towards the awaiting car.

It’s a quiet ride, Harry looks out the window with a deep frown and puffy eyes - eyes heavy from the lack of sleep.

Usually, he’d be curled into YN - snuggling as close as possible and asking for her to pet his hair to soothe him.

Not today. But he does have his hand on her thigh.

There’s already fans at the arena and Harry doesn’t acknowledge them - keeps his head down and walks quickly into the private entrance past the barricades.

When a irritated fan screams, “Asshole! We waited all night here for you!”

YN watches as Harry goes to turn, to say something but she pushes him forward through the door to prevent him from doing something he’d regret when wasn’t in a foul mood.

They manage through the long hallways, filled with bustling tour crew, and everybody there to make the show happen.

Sound check isn’t as fun as it usually is, the band stays low-key when Harry does exactly what he needs to do and nothing more.

And after the merch meeting, Harry has reached his limit apparently.

He was so tired, so fucking moody that he couldn’t deal with anymore human interaction.

YN has to step in when she gets a text from Harry Lambert.

Come get your husband. Sarah’s Kitchen.

She sighs, excusing herself from hanging out with Jeff and Glenne - she can hear him from the hallway and now she’s finally get irritated.

“I asked for that specific brand. It’s literally one of the only things I’ve asked for on this tour.”

YN takes a deep breathe before stepping in, there are crew trying not to stare as Harry complains to Sarah about something unimportant.

“Harry,” She says flatly, “Come on.”

He snatches his water bottle and follows his wife out without another word, trailing behind until they end up in his dressing room.

“You need to stop. You’re being a literal nightmare today,” YN tells him, watching him as he digs in the duffle.

“Where is m’charger? Did y’not pack it?” He ignores her words.

“I must have forgot. Harry, I know you’re tired but you can’t be treating everyone like-“

Harry pushes back the bag, seething for no reason, “I’ll treat people however the fuck I want!”

“You’re acting like a spoiled popstar right now,” YN replies, attempting to stay level-headed and calm with him.

“S’my show! M’tour!”

“Yes and everyone is here to support you and you’re treating them like shit. Including me, I’m your wife - the one person in the world that’s here for you no matter what and you’re being downright mean.”

“Y’so fuckin’ sensitive,” Harry mutters angrily, digging around to try to find a charger in a different bag.

And…that stung a bit.

When he doesn’t get a response, he looks up and notices how her demeanor had changed - it brings him back to reality for a little bit.

“I’m not going to stay here and be talked to like that because you don’t feel good. I’ll leave you alone because you are being insufferable.”

“Bab-“

YN is already out the door, storming back to Sarah’s kitchen to apologize for her husband’s diva behavior and everyone shrugs her off - knowing it’s not her fault.

She is sat down with the band and a few others when her husband saunters in, he doesn’t look at anyone else as he walks up to his wife.

“Baby, can I talk to you?” He mumbles, his warm hand coming to cup her shoulder.

“Harry,” YN says back, they’ve been together for so long that those words are all she needs to say for him to formulate a response.

“Come nap w’me please, need you. I’ll apologize t’you,” Harry says, his palm encompassing and big on her.

“Harry,” She repeats.

The crew looks on in amusement as Harry huffs, he lifts his head and speaks loudly to the room at once, “I apologize for my behavior. I have no excuse for getting upset like I have been today. I hope you guys can forgive me.”

Everyone assures him that they forgive him, most of them have dealt with actual spoiled celebrities and Harry was just having a bad day (which still really wasn’t that bad.)

“Okay, come on, bunny,” YN agrees, satisfied and can’t help but smile a bit when she stands up and Harry automatically intertwines their fingers to hold her hand.

The sofa in his dressing room folds out to be a bed and they still had hours before the show.

Once they’ve locked the doo and settled down on the mattress - they’re both laying on their sides, facing each other.

“M’sorry, darlin’,” Harry whispers, “I haven’t been very nice t’you today. I was just upset about the gym thing and just being so tired.”

YN hums, combing throwing his fluffy curls with her fingers as his hands explore over her hips and belly like always.

“You always get like this every once in a while on tour, like a little spoiled popstar,” YN says softly, no sharpness in her tone, “You also need to be nice to your wife.”

“M’always nice t’my wife,” He mumbles childishly, leaning forward to nip at her chin, “I am sorry, know tha’ when I act like that it embarrasses you.”

“You’re better than acting like that,” YN reminds him, allowing him to tug her into his warm, now bare chest, “I’m never gonna let you turn into some fame monster. You’re gonna stay the kind, funny, compassionate person I met when I was young.”

And when YN doesn’t get a reply, she glances to see Harry’s eyes shut, mouth slightly parted as he breathes rhythmically and his entire face relaxes as he sleeps.

“Still my boy,” YN murmurs lovingly, nuzzling before letting sleep overtake her.

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howdoyousleep3 · 2 years ago

Note

Part 2!

James winced as he watched his lover arch his back so far it popped loudly in the quiet of the hotel room. The younger man had been hunched over his laptop for the better part of three hours, barely moving, and now he was paying the price.

“C’mere, baby,” James held out a hand from where he was currently supine on the bed. “lemme give a back rub, that sounded like it hurt.”

Steve murmured in agreement and eagerly crawled up the bed, tossing his shirt aside before sprawling on his front, pillow tucked under his chin. James swung a leg over narrow hip and began pressing down on Steve’s spine with just enough pressure to make the column crackle softly. Steve moaned happily, melting further into the mattress.

“Feel good?”

“Mm’yeah.”

“Did you have a good day, baby?”

Steve nodded again, eyes closed, skin warming under James’ touch. He was tired enough that he didn’t fight the gentle drift of cotton candy flowing into his brain. James almost let it happen, let Steve fall under, so sweet and soft and perfect...

But they needed to talk about today. And the possibilities for the future. He leaned in close and pressed a gentle kiss to Steve’s cheek. “Open your eyes, sweetheart,” he urged softly. “I wanna talk to you about something.”

Steve grumbled out a protest, burying his face in the pillow he held close.

“I promise I’ll finish the massage as soon as we’re done talking,” James chuckled, shifting off his lover, making him grumble again. “Please, Stevie?”

After a few more noises of displeasure and some unhappy squirming, Steve finally rolled onto his side and glared at James. “What?”

James gave a sharp look of reprimand, and Steve immediately dropped his eyes in apology.

“What did you think of meeting Mr. Rogers and Bucky today?” James asked, relenting his gaze.

Steve blinked in surprise, but rallied quickly. “They seem nice,” he said, fingers absently working one of the corners of the pillow. “Mr. Rogers is kinda intimidating, like you were at the start. His smile is kind, though. And Bucky loves him, and Bucky’s cool, so Mr. Rogers must be, too. And he’s your friend. That means I can trust him, right? You’re picky with your friends.”

“So you like them?”

“I mean...as much as I can with how little I know them?”

James nodded in concession. “That’s fair. One meeting isn’t enough to get a full read on someone. But you said you could trust Mr. Rogers because I trust him, right?”

Steve’s eyes narrowed, sensing a trap. “Yeeees?”

“And you liked Bucky, right?”

“He’s cool, like I said. Funny, quick, snarky...”

“With bedroom eyes and cock-sucker lips?”

Steve choked on his spit, face flaming, “James! I-- You--!”

James hushed him quickly, pulled Steve into his arms and stroking his hair and back. “Breathe, baby. It’s okay. Bucky is Mr. Rogers’, just like you’re mine. He’s a pampered, spoiled, loved baby boy, just like you are. And Mr. Rogers is a Daddy, just like I am. But there’s a part of you that knew that, isn’t there?”

Steve struggled in James’ hold for a moment, before relenting and nodding. “Yes, Daddy,” he whispered.

James nodded as well, unseen but felt against the top of Steve’s head. “And both Mr. Rogers and I can see and appreciate each other’s boys, because we love them so much. We like bragging and showing off. Okay?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“But boys can also appreciate each other. I know you think Bucky is pretty, because I know you. I know you think his lips are beautiful, and I know you think his body is attractive. I know you wanted to touch him and kiss him. Because you’re my baby boy, and I see those same things on your face when you look at me. And that is so very much okay.”

Steve raised his head, eyes bright and little scared. “Really? You’re not mad at me?”

James smiled and dipped his head for a kiss. “Not at all, baby. Wanna know why?”

“W-why?”

James dropped his voice to a playful whisper, “Because Bucky wanted to touch and kiss you, too.”

The older man couldn’t help the clench in his heart at the hopeful and wary look in Steve’s eyes. His boy still had trouble believing he was attractive and desirable. “Really? H-how do you know?”

“Because Mr. Rogers knows his boy just as well as I know mine, and he told me. And he’s as happy as I am about it.”

Now Steve was truly confused. “You’re happy? He’s happy? Why? I don’t want him to think I wanna steal his boyfriend!”

“He doesn’t think that at all, baby, I swear,” James quickly assured. “And neither do I. We’re happy because it’s really nice to know that our lovers know a good thing when they see it, just like we do. And that there’s a good chance of everyone getting along, which is always nice in a friend group, right?”

Steve nodded slowly, settling back against James’ chest.

“It also opens up opportunities for us Daddies to show off a little bit. And for you boys to explore safely, if that’s what you want.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed again. “Explore what?”

A smile tugged at James’ lips, but he quickly stifled it. Damn, his Stevie was so fuckin’ smart. He schooled his face into something serious, because this was serious. “First and foremost, before anything else, I need you to know you have every single right to refuse, say no, back out, change your mind, and demand it never be brought up again. Everything I’m about to say is purely hypothetical and entirely academic if that’s what you want. I’m merely placing an opportunity in front of you, for you to do what you want with. Clear?”

Stevie, bless his beautiful blond head, really did think about it, his brows crumpling slightly, and his eyes staring at a point on James’ chest. After several minutes, he looked up and nodded, once. “I understand,” he said clearly. James rewarded him with a kiss, sighing happily as Steve opened so easily beneath him. They both pulled away slowly and smiled.

James nestled Steve back to his chest, tempted to slot a thigh between Steve’s, but dismissing the idea as coercive in the current situation. He didn’t want anything swaying Steve’s choice. Not pleasure, not pressure, not fear...none of it. So he simply held Steve close and stroked a hand up and down his spine.

“The opportunity that I’m talking about,” he began, feeling Steve’s head tilt just enough to show he was listening, “is a chance for you to experience pleasure and enjoyment with someone who is of the same mindset as you. Not submitting to a Dom or a Daddy, but playing and having fun with another boy. Equal footing, with no power in play, except from the outside.”

Steve’s head tilted further, “What do you mean, ‘from the outside’?”

“Both Mr. Rogers and I would be present, but not participating. We’ll be there as guardians, for the most part. Making sure that neither of our boys are pushing or being pushed, just having fun and enjoying each other. We know our boys best, and we want to make sure that such an experience, if it were to happen, is pleasurable for everyone. I would be there to make sure that you are safe and comfortable, and keeping an eye on your headspace, and Mr. Rogers would be doing the same for Bucky.”

Steve was silent for a long time. James kept stroking his back, letting the younger man process everything he’d said. It was a lot to take in, and he was pleased that Steve wasn’t trying to give an immediate answer.

His question, when it came, nearly broke James’ heart.

“Do...,” Steve’s whole frame shuddered as he swallowed, “do you really think Bucky wanted to touch me, and k-kiss me? Like I wanted...want, to do with him?”

James was so, so tempted to show his sweet, shy, uncertain lover the text that remained open on his phone, but he wanted to keep this as unbiased as possible. “I really do. Mr. Rogers would never lie to me, and Bucky would never lie to him.”

“You’ll be there the whole time?”

“Every single second,” James promised, pressing a kiss to Steve’s hair.

Steve started to tremble. “I can change my mind?”

“At any point before, during, or even after. Just like Bucky, Mr. Rogers, or I can. Everyone has to want to be there, or no one will be there.”

“You’ll...,” Steve’s voice dropped to a reedy whisper, “you’ll still love me?”

“Oh, Stevie,” James crushed his boy even closer to his chest, cupping the back of his head and throwing his leg over the smaller man’s hip. “Absolutely nothing about this will make me love you even an iota less. Nothing. You are my lover, my boyfriend, my partner, my best friend, and my sweet, amazing baby boy. I’ll be holding you before anything happens, and holding you even tighter when it’s all done. I love you, and I want you to experience every kind of pleasure I can think of. This just happens to be one of them, and all it’ll take to make it happen or not is a single word from you. My love is not conditional to your answer. You’re stuck with me. Forever.”

Steve choked out a strained giggle, but his trembling slowly abated. Burrowing impossibly closer, he nuzzled under James’ chin and released all his tension in a deep and heavy sigh.

“I think...,” he said at last, pulling James from a slight doze. “I think...I do wanna play. With Bucky. He’s...he’s really pretty, and...I feel like I could—I could learn from him. He seems really happy to be Mr. Rogers’ boy, and I like his energy. Playing with him feels like it would be a lot of fun and feel really good. And,” James could feel the heat of Steve’s blush against his throat, “Mr. Rogers is very handsome. I want him to know that you have a good boy, too. I want to make you proud of me.”

“Sweetheart, I am already so, so incredibly proud of you,” James assured. “You’ve got nothing to prove to anyone. Mr. Rogers will only let you play with his boy because he already knows how good you are. Our babies only deserve the best, after all. And the fact that we get to show both of you off to the other is just icing on an absolutely delicious cake.”

Steve giggled again and lifted his face, asking for a kiss. James happily obliged, and the room filled with the sounds of loud breathing, soft moans, and clashing lips.

Much, much later, hours after the promised back-rub, which happened after the impromptu romp they had, James picked up his phone.

To: Rogers—Stevie said yes. Same place and time as today for negotiations? Thursday?

The response was quick.

From: Rogers—We’ll be there.

here is part 1

#askK #daddy steve and baby bucky #daddy james and stevie baby #daddy steve and baby bucky and daddy james and stevie baby #it just keeps getting better and better 😭#my shadow tag #shadow is amazing

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metalbuckaroo · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, lovely! For your sleepover. How about...

“I desperately want to take you out for dinner and slow dance with you until the sun comes up, but I also want to grip your hair as I watch you writhing underneath me.”

Please feel free to ignore if you received this. 💖

Checking In

Summary// A hotel getaway with Bucky's favorite receptionist

Warnings// Lil angsty, some fluff, some smut, cursing, tiny mention of drinking, 18 plus only, minors dni

Note// I kinda love this request. I didn't use the quote, but its based off of the quote, this also got LONG and took sooo long.

My new masterlist and taglist will hopefully be done tomorrow night.

Im really hoping it doesn't flop bc I'm lowkey proud of it and also spent a lot of time on it

MASTERLIST

Moodboard by @commonintrest

This was the slowest Bucky had went with someone in a very long time. Three dates in and he hadn't even had the chance to see you naked. It was driving him crazy to say the least.

Anyone else wouldn't have gotten a call back, but for you; it made him want it even more. So, he came up with an idea to take that extra step.

Walking into the hotel you worked at, he gave a nod to the security guard and flashed you a charming smile; his hair much shorter than when you saw him last. "Like the haircut." You said, turning in the chair to look at him. "Feels more... professional."

"Checking in again?" You asked, leaning your chin on the base of your palm, reaching your other hand to card your fingers through the short hair.

Bucky shook his head and leaned his forearms on the desktop. "No. We are checking in somewhere else. Tonight, when you're off."

His eyes trailed down to the top of your blouse, looking at the few buttons that where open. "Buck, I'm not staying in a hotel with you." You smiled, shaking your head. "Come on, I'll sleep on the couch if you're too uncomfortable." He smirked.

You thought it over for a moment before sighing and nodding your head. "Yeah, ok." You agreed, letting him pull you in for a brief kiss by the back of your neck. "Fantastic. I'll be here at five to get you."

"I'll have to go get cl-" Bucky shook his head at you. "Won't need 'em." He said, turning to walk out. "Bucky, don't you dare."

"See ya tonight, pretty girl."

As promised, five o'clock hit and Bucky was pulling in front of the doors in his sleek black car; quickly getting out.

His usual suit was traded in for a more casual button up tee and dark jeans, the prosthetic that matched the shape of his right arm perfectly on display.

He rounded the desk and picked up your bag. "You can't be back here." You teased, making him roll his eyes. "Come along, babydoll. We have plans." He said, hand between your shoulder blades to guide you with him.

Bucky's plan would surely get that extra step at least jumpstarted. The heated make out sessions in his car when he dropped you off were starting to get to him.

He refused to call anyone else to handle the tightening of his jeans, the wait made him yearn for you even more.

So, he patiently waited as you changed into the lavender sundress he'd sent for, listened and talked over dinner on the patio of the motel, and just basked in your enjoyable presence.

"Dance with me." You said, hand laying on his bicep. He chuckled lightly and shook his head. "I don't dance, sugar."

You raised your eyebrows and cocked your head to the side, fingers tracing down the vein that ran the length of his arm and to his hand. "Well, you're going to, or you'll be sleeping in that room alone." You laced your fingers in his and he looked at you with an amused expression. "Oh, really now?"

"Mhm, c'mon. It's a slow one, so you won't embarass yourself." You teased, feeling his hands on your hips as soon as you turned your back to him. "I never said I couldn't dance. Just that I don't, babydoll." His gruff voice said in your ear, moving to stand in front of you once in the midst of the other couples enjoying their night.

"Couldn't say no to you if I tried anyways." He said softly as your hands rested on the back of his neck, his on the dip of your waist.

The Bucky who took you on dates was different than the Bucky who strolled in your lobby at least once every two weeks. He wasn't glowering when he looked at you; instead he had a smile that made the corner of his eyes crinkle and your heart flutter.

He hadn't smiled so hard and so much in years. He was addicted. To your voice, fiery attitude, and gleaming smile; and he couldn't even imagine how much more he'd crave once he finally got a taste of you.

"Gonna let me sleep in the bed, pretty girl?" He cooed, hands roaming over the swell of your ass. "Of course, Mr Barnes." You grinned, pecking a kiss to his dimpled chin. "Could dance with you all night if you wanted me to." He said, squeezing gently. "I wouldn't complain."

His lips slotted over yours, your eyes fluttering shut at the softness of them.

He suddenly lifted his head, bottom lip brushing the tip of your nose as you opened your eyes again.

Bucky's cold demeanor he usually had while walking through the lobby of the hotel returned, smile fading into a deep scowl as he looked at something behind you.

"Is something wrong?" You asked, worry lacing your voice as you cupped his stubbled jaw in your hands, feeling the muscle of it flex. "Just stay close." He murmured, pulling you closer to his front.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, lips parting to say something, but the stern look in his eyes stopping you as they stayed glued on whatever was behind you.

"Barnes, didn't expect to see you here- like this." A voice that was slightly higher in pitch than Bucky's sounded from behind you.

Bucky tucked you into his side, hand on the small of your back as he stared at the shorter man. "Just enjoying my night. That a problem?"

You swallowed thickly and gripped onto the back of Bucky's shirt, crumbling the perfectly ironed fabric in your fist as your heart pounded. "Needa talk." The man said.

Bucky's eyes flicked to a group of men sitting at the corner of the patio before looking back to the man in from of him. "Go sit down. Order us some more drinks." Bucky said sternly. "Bucky-"

He finally looked down at you with an icy stare, making you shrink back slightly. "Now isn't the time to argue with me. Go sit down." The tone of his voice was one you hadn't heard before.

You nodded and turned to walk back to the table, picking at your nails as you took your seat again.

Looking to where Bucky was sat at the table with the group, you chewed your bottom lip. You knew what you were getting into when accepting that first date, you just didn't think it'd follow you everywhere.

He tried to stay patient, he was in rival territory and knew it was a terrible idea; but this was one of the nice hotels and he wanted the weekend spent right. Keeping his cool was the only way he was going to be able to do that.

He was barely even listening to half of what the men were saying, glancing over at your nervous posture as you picked the nails he had just paid to get manicured; even though you protested against taking his money.

Until one statement had his head snapping back towards one of them. "The girl seems... sweet. Make you happy?" It wasn't meant in a way a friend would ask when checking up on another friend. Bucky felt it burn through him like a threat.

"Yeah, well, she's got a mouth on her and I'm losing my patience. So, you men have a good night, you owe my girl an apology for ruining her night." He stood, teeth gritting together.

You noticed Bucky's tense stance and straightened in your seat as he got closer. "Rude bastards." Bucky grumbled, taking your hand in his and tugging for you to stand. "What did they want?"

Bucky thought about lying, but he promised you he wouldn't. "Talk business. Can't believe they'd interrupt me over stupid bullshit." He sneered, pulling you along with him back into the hotel. "Where are we going? They're going to bill you for those drinks." You huffed, picking up your pace to walk next to him. "Don't care."

By the time the two of you reached the door to your room, Bucky had you pressed against it; fumbling to swipe the key card as his lips attacked yours.

Your hands fisted into the front of his shirt to keep your balance as shoes were kicked off, Bucky backing you towards the bed with his large hands holding the sides of your face.

You fell back onto the bed when the backs of your knees met the edge of the mattress, taking him with you; Bucky's body parting your legs.

The kiss was hungry and desperate, sharing breaths as his hands gripped at your outer thighs and pawed their way under the skirt of your dress.

You pulled away from the kiss, breathless as he dipped his head to latch his lips on the underside of your jaw. "Bucky, wait-" You panted, pressing his shoulders lightly. "What?" He breathed, stopping all movements as he looked at you; eyes dark and lips kiss swollen. "I-"

"You're a virgin. We can wait, if so." He cut you off, face dropping slightly. "No, no. It's not that. I just haven't had sex in awhile." You said, gnawing at your tongue. "Want me to go slower?"

"I just don't want to take things too fast." You whispered, tracing the collar of his shirt with your fingertips.

Bucky took a deep inhale, warm hand moving to hold your chin. "Babygirl, listen. I'm not going to kick you out of my bed when we're done. You got me attached with this damn chase you gave me. Wanna take care of you. Okay?"

You nodded and pulled him back down to you, his tongue slipping between your lips as his fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt.

Gently pushing them away, you replaced his hands with yours to pop the buttons open as his tongue glided across every inch of your mouth he could reach.

You lifted your back off of the mattress for his hand to feel for the zipper of your dress, grazing your fingers down the tensing muscles of his chest and abdomen; stopping at the button of his jeans.

"Don't get shy now, take 'em off." Bucky mumbled against your lips, sliding the straps of your dress off of your shoulders.

The wetness between your legs grew as your tugged at his belt, whimpering into his mouth when he pressed his hips against you to show how hard he was.

Pulling away, Bucky sat up to tug your dress down your torso and legs; eyes drinking in the beautiful sight in front of him as he shoved his jeans off and palmed himself through his boxers.

"Take the shirt off." You panted, backing up the bed. A smirk grew on his face, metal thumb sliding back and forth in the waistband of his boxers as he looked at your glistening folds. "Ask nicely and I just might." He taunted. "Please."

You watched the way his muscles flexed with each movement, the shirt sliding off of his arms and to the floor; revealing the mess of scars Bucky hoped you'd ignore and a large tattoo on his ribcage.

Next were his boxer briefs, pooling at his feet as his cock twitched in the air; swollen tip red and leaking precum. "You're staring, babydoll." He said, voice low as he moved his body back over yours.

"Can't help it." You swallowed, the weight of his cock against your thigh as you felt the firmness of his back. His hand slipped between your bodies to guide himself to your heat, spreading your slick with his tip.

"So wet, barely even touched you yet." You whined at his words and gripped his shoulders. "Buck, please. Stop the teasing."

The smirk on his face grew before he brushed his lips against yours. "Hm, I don't know. Kept me waitin' so long, might just tease you a little more." He hummed. You bucked your hips against him, his tip barely pressing into you. "Fuck..." Bucky said in a low groan, a shudder passing through his body.

He made sure you felt every ridge and vein, pulling breathy sounds from you when he pushed deeper. Your walls so tight and warm around him, he already had to hold off his release.

"Look at me, sweet girl." He breathed, nipping at your bottom lip and rolling his hips into yours.

When you opened your eyes, the adoring look in Bucky's made your breath hitch. Hands wedging under your back as he sat up, holding you to him so you were sitting on his thick thighs.

"So beautiful." He groaned as his hands glided over the curve of your back to your ass, metal and flesh fingers digging into the skin.

Guiding your hips in a faster pace, he could feel you clenching around him, swallowing the blissed out sounds you made with a breath taking kiss as his grip on you tightened.

The soft ow that passed your lips made Bucky loosen his grip and move you in a slower pace. "Need me to slow down?" He panted, pulling away from you slightly.

You frantically shook your head, hands clinging to his shoulders; needing to feel his skin against yours. "No-no. Don't stop, please, keep going." You whined, bucking your hips along with him.

In a swift movement, your back was pressed back into the mattress. Your fingers laced with Bucky's as he pinned your hands at the sides of your head, his hips meeting yours in a faster, rougher pace that knocked the breath from your lungs and made your head spin; his cock sliding against every sweet spot, some that you didn't even know existed.

Salacious sounds from both of you echoed around the room, your eyes fluttering shut again and body arching into him so your front was flush to his as the coil snapped.

"There you go, baby. Feel so good, so worth the wait." Bucky moaned out, chasing his own release with shorter thrusts.

A whimper of his name falling from your sweet lips sent him over the edge, his hips flush to yours as he spilled into you with a guttural moan.

He slowly rocked his hips into yours, riding the blissful feeling for all that it was as he looked over your blissed out face.

It was the moment your eyes peaked out, staring back into his lust darkened ones that Bucky knew. You were the one thing he needed to protect. To hold close and never let go.

A tender kiss was placed on your lips, a satisfied hum leaving Bucky as he slipped from between your legs to lay beside you.

You slowly moved off of the bed to grab a shirt and go to clean up, legs feeling wobbly with each step to and from the bathroom.

Bucky sat on the edge of the bed when you walked back into the adjoined room, legs still a little jelly feeling as you made you way back to him.

He laughed, an actual belly laugh that made your heart swell as he pulled you between his parted thighs. "I have some... unexpected business to take care of in the morning."

You nodded lightly and sat your hands on his shoulders. "I want you to stay in this room and keep the door locked. When I come back, we'll do something." He promised, gently massaging your sides. "Something, huh?"

A squeak escaped your throat when you were pinned back underneath Bucky, his hips pressing into you. "Oh, don't you get me started. I'll keep you up all night."

#bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky x reader #bucky imagine #bucky barnes smut #mafia!au #mafia!bucky smut #mafia!bucky #mob!bucky #mob!bucky smut

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readerstories · 4 years ago

Text

Magic Fingers - Aaron Hotchner x male!reader

I got so many other ideas for fics with Aaron and male reader, this was just an excuse to write some “shorter” smut while I work on some longer fics. (AO3)

Warnings: smut, clothed sex

Wordcount: 2978

Summary: Working hard on a case you offer to give Hotch a massage, because the man is as stiff and tense as a block of wood. (And maybe you want to get your hands on him, but that’s neither here nor there).

The case had been hard, challenging, brutal, and difficult, which had caused the whole team to work on overdrive for the last few days with very little sleep. Which was why Hotch had ordered everyone back to the hotel to get some sleep, as none of you were going to get anywhere being as sleep deprived as you were.

He had tried to stay behind himself, but you had more or less dragged him back to a car while reminding him that even he was human and needed rest. Back at the hotel, in your shared room (because of course with your luck there wasn’t any single rooms left in the hotel for anyone in the team), you stretch before sitting down on your own bed, Hotch walking over to his.

You could see how tense he was, how much he needed to relax. Which was easier said then done when Hotch took as much responsibility as he did, always making sure everything possible was done to catch the unsub and save anyone who might get in harms way. Which was an admirable trait of his, but you could tell by his posture how stiff he had gotten over the last few days. The way he held himself spoke volumes to you, even though you knew he tried to shield it from the world and keep it to himself.

“Hotch?” He looks away from his jacket, the only item of his suit he has manged to force himself out of so far, while your jacket, shoes, and tie was long gone. You pat the edge of the bed next to where you are sitting, Hotch looks skeptical.

“Come on, you need to relax.”

“What does me sitting next to you have anything to do with that?”

“Let me give you a massage.” He raises a brow and you sigh, shifting so you’re kneeling on the bed instead.

“You’ve seen my resume, you know you I thought about going into massage therapy at one point.” Still, Hotch doesn’t move, so you know you have to do more to convince him.

“Remember when Reid had slept on his neck all wrong that one time after staying up way too late and I helped? Or when Morgan messed up his shoulder when going after an unsub and couldn’t sleep for days, and after a massage he finally could? It was the closest I’ve ever seen the man to weeping. Or when JJ was pregnant and hurting, but after letting me give her a massage she joked that if she didn’t love Will, and I wasn’t gay, she would have married me? Hotch, at this point I’ve given a massage to everyone on the team but you, so, get.”

You make a grabby motion with your hands. Hotch sigh, seeming to finally get how serious and stubborn you were being in that moment. He takes off his tie and shoes on the way over to the bed, but doesn’t do anything else, which makes everything a bit harder, but hey, you’ll take anything you’ll get. As Hotch sits down you’re greeted by the lovely opportunity to stare at his back without him noticing or caring too much, which would have been great, if you couldn’t tell how tense he was without even needing a single touch.

When you touch his shoulders he almost jumps, but he forces himself to calm down. Which doesn’t do much, because the instant your hands are on him you can tell it’s going to take a while and some effort to get him relax.

You slowly, ever so slowly start to move you hand, starting out gently at first to get a feeling for him. And ho boy, those are some serious knots if you’ve ever felt some. Your thumb barely brushes over one with some pressure and Hotch winces. You take a breath in trough your teeth, Hotch truly can’t be feeling any sort of pleasant right now, or really, ever you suppose.

“Hotch, if I really didn’t know any better, I would say your shoulders are made of wood with how stiff they are and how many knots I can feel.” Hotch grunts and starts to move like he’s about to stand up, but you drag him back down so he’s fully sitting again with your hands on his shoulders.

“Oh no, none of that, you’re not moving off this bed until all of them are gone and you can you know, actually be a little relaxed for once in your adult life.” Hotch scoffs, but doesn’t try to move again, which you count as a victory.

For the next, you don’t even know how long, your hands wander, squeeze, and press all over Hotch’s shoulders, loosing muscles and knots as good as you can while kneeling behind Hotch. Hotch is mostly quiet, only letting out sighs and the occasional grunt when an especially hard spot is made pliant.

When you’ve done as much as you can in this position you withdraw your hands, noting how Hotch is slumping slightly more forward now than he was when you started.

“Up the bed please, I can’t reach more like this.” Hotch turns so he can look at you over his shoulder.

“You’ve massaged my shoulders, what mor-”

“If your shoulders are any indication, you need a full body massage, so up on the bed please, front down.” You stare down Hotch, not breaking eye contact for one second. You’ve decided that he needs that massage, even if you have to tackle him to the bed to give it to him. He seems to have sensed this as he sighs, and above all miracles, does as you asked of him. He’s on his front, arms tucked under his head to use as a pillow, you now kneeling next to one hip.

Pleased with yourself, you get to work. You start where you left off from before, somewhere in the middle of his back. The knots there aren’t as bad as his shoulders, you suppose Hotch takes ‘bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders’ literally sometimes, but still you do your best to let your hands work over them until they are smoothed out and the muscles beneath your palms relax.

Over time your hands move downwards, and at some point right above the waist of his pants and his belt, your hands on either hip, they brush a particular point or points which make Hotch draw in a breath. Your hands pause before you speak.

“Sorry, you ticklish there?”

“A little.” Hotch reluctantly admits, mostly speaking at the wall he has been staring at for the last few minutes.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You say as you file that little nugget of info away in a part of your brain you’ve dedicated to Hotch. You make sure to avoid that spot when your hands starts up again, instead moving to his lower back. There you find a knot truly worth your skilled hands, taking several minutes before you can move your hands from that spot. You realize you’ve accomplished your goal there when Hotch lets out a loud groan as you fell his muscles loosen beneath your hands, which you gather was an involuntary sound by the slight redness on his cheeks.

“See, I told you I was good.” Hotch doesn’t responds verbally, but nods, eyes closed now. You don’t say anything else, instead moving to his legs. You start at one ankle, slowly, slowly moving your way upwards, careful not to go to high for both of your comfort. You can tell when that is by a small twitch on Hotch’s leg, just above where you can feel the start of his boxers through his pants, and then you move down. You do however at on point press on a muscle on the backside of his knee that causes the leg to move on its own, which causes you both to laugh.

When both legs are done, you take your hands off Hotch and lean back, noting how his eyes are closed, almost like he’s sleeping.

“Turn around.” This causes Hotch to abruptly open his eyes and look at you for the first time since he laid down.

“What?”

“I haven’t done your front yet, and I’m not about to let you go with a half finished massage.”

“I-I’d rather not.” Looking over Hotch you quickly realize, with your profiling work and previous experience, why he’s not moving yet.

“If it’s an erection that’s nothing new.”

“Wha-”

“Your body is just reacting to stimuli, happens a lot with men, nothing I haven’t seen before. But if you really want to stop, we can of course do that.” You can see Hotch’s mind at war with himself. You say nothing, pretending that there’s a very interesting spot on the wall above the headboard.

It’s the movement of the mattress that alerts you to the fact that Hotch is moving, as the man himself says nothing. When you look at him, he has his arms over his face, jaw and mouth barely visible. What is very visible, is the erction pushing against the front of his pants, and though you would have liked to look, you only give it a glance. Hotch jumps when you touch his ankle again, but you don’t start just yet.

“Relax, like I said, nothing I haven’t seen before. Happens a lot actually, my hands are just that good you know, like a god or something.” Hotch huffs out a laugh, a smile briefly on his lips. You smile back at him even though he can’t see you, and then concentrate back on the task at hand.

Like before, you start at his ankles, working your way up. Hotch gets less tense almost by the second, breathing deepening as your hands work their magic once more. You don’t go very high on his thighs, actually now you’re lower than before, not wanting to make Hotch uncomfortable in any way.

Next is his hips, you start at the one closest to you and work your way up towards his shoulder instead of across his stomach. He still has his arms over his face, so you poke him in the bicep to get his attention.

“Arm please.” Hotch’s sigh is deep, but he moves his arm so you can take it. You’re gentle, well, as gentle as you can be while kneading out knots from tired muscles. His bicep is firm under your fingers, needing a lot less attention than his shoulders luckily.

When you’re done with that arm, you let it go, tapping on his other so he can move that of his face and switch it for the one you finished with. The angle of it is a bit awkward, and you probably should move for easier access, but honestly you can’t be bothered as you’re very close to being finished. However, your knee protests, telling your body that hey, moving is good as not to let limbs fall asleep.

But instead of doing the logical and probably better thing of getting of the bed and walking around, your tired brain decides to just move one leg over Hotch waist, intending to just move the other one over and after. Hotch draws in a slight breath at the motion and then something in your leg fails you, causing you to drop down on Hotch, putting most of your weight on top of Hotch’s crotch. Hotch moans out loud as his hands flies to your lower thighs and you go stock still.

“Fuck shit, sorry Hotch-”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, it-” Hotch draws in a deep breath and licks his lips as you worriedly watch his face. You’re mortified, you just dropped yourself on Hotch’s erection, holy fuck, shit.

It takes a few seconds to realize that you’re not trying to move of Hotch’s lap.

But Hotch isn’t trying to move you off either.

If anything, he’s keeping you there, a deathgrip on your lower thighs.

You take a few terrifying seconds to take stock of the situation before experimentally rolling your hips against Hotch. A flex of his fingers, but he does or says nothing as he stares at the ceiling. You on the other hand, is watching his face for any hint of what he’s thinking.

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop, and we’ll forget about it ever happening.”

“Ah, um, fuck, shit.”

Silence, one, two, three beats.

“Fuck, move.” You start to get off his, heart already dropping to your guts, but instead Hotch drags you down and rolls his hips against you. This time it’s you who gasps, as your own dick twitches in your pants with the feeling of Hotch grinding against you. Hotch throws his head back, eyes screwed shut.

You’re quick to find your balance and leverage by placing your hands on Hotch’s chest, grinding down, moving as best as you can with Hotch’s own movements. Hotch is letting out a few low moans, which you match with your own as you move and watch the adam’s apple on Hotch’s throat move as he swallows. You want to lean down and kiss his neck, but fuck, you don’t know if you even can kiss him, if he will let you.

Hotch answers that question for you, as just seconds later his eyes open and he moves so he can look at you, catching you staring at him.

“Ah fuck.” Before you can even ask, he’s sitting up. You yelp as the movement causes you to straddle his thighs instead, and then in seconds there’s a hand on the nape of your neck, and even fewer seconds later you’re kissing Hotch.

Fuck.

His lips are firm, but pressing against you with a desperation you’re sure to match. His hands on your hips, holding you hard. Your hands go into his hair, tugging him even closer of that is even possible at this point, which causes him to moan low into your mouth which holy shit, that is, fuck, you can’t even think anymore you think.

The world shifts around you then, and you find yourself on your back, Hotch’s erection pressed against your own. It feels so good, so big and firm, and you want to feel more of him, but you can’t muster the brainpower to do anything about it, so you just tug at his hair and grind against him. Hotch seems of the same mind, as he doesn’t move to do much more either, just moving his hips against yours while kissing you within an inch of your life.

Which should be ridiculous, because you’re both grown men almost fully dressed still, but fuck, that makes it even hotter you think. Or, you try to think, as your mind is mostly chants of ‘more, good, fuck, shit, hot’ over and over again, Hotch’s name thrown in the mix for good measure.

Hotch moves away from your lips, but doesn’t move far, instead peppering kissed down your neck on the little skin he can reach. You moan and gasp, moving one hand from his hair to his back, trying to press him even more against you.

“Fuck, shit, I’m close, so close!” You frantically confess towards the ceiling.

“Me too, me too.” Hotch breathes against your neck, one hand moving so he can unbutton your shirt and get his lips on your collarbone. He starts to suck and bite at a spot there, and that is what does you in. You come just seconds after your shirt is open for him, moaning loudly.

“Fuck!” You hear Hotch mutter against your skin, and then a mutter of your name as he comes, in a low baritone that you think you will remember for the rest of your life.

You lay there panting for several seconds, or perhaps minutes, you’re not sure, just a mess of limbs, most of Hotch’s weight on top of you.

It’s hot, in more ways than one, which is what forces you to push Hotch off you, to get some air. He goes willingly, flopping down on his back next to you on the bed. A few panting breaths before you both turn to look at the other, smiles, then laughter as the situation sinks in. You’re surprisingly the first to gain somewhat of a control over yourself, grinning as you speak.

“We just came in our pants, what are we, teenagers?” Hotch pushes his weight up on his elbows, wincing as apparently something pulls somewhere.

“I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t feel like one.” Hotch smiles as you, which you return, letting your eyes wander all over him now that you can. His hair is standing in a million different directions, there’s a blush to his cheeks, his clothes are rumpled, a wet spot is forming on the front of his pants, and he looks as fucked and blissed out as you, and most certainly he, feels. You hum, your attention going back to his face.

“We should get cleaned up.” You state, which Hotch nods in response.

“I think you mean you should get us cleaned up. My legs feels like jello right about now.” You raise a brow and he grins.

“I think your massage turned off something in my legs.” You huff, incredulous, but sit up anyway.

“I’m good, but not that good.”

“Well, the sex certainly helped.” You laugh and lean down to give him a kiss, which is mostly smiling lips pressed against each other.

“Flatterer.”

“Hey, what can I say, you got magic fingers.” You smack his chest and laugh as you get up to go the bathroom, your own legs a little shaky, which Hotch doesn’t comment on, but you know he liked by the way he grins at you when you get back to the bed.

#aaron hotchner x male reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #smut #lemon #written #male!reader #aaron hotcner x male!reader #male reader #2000

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shoutogepi · 4 years ago

Text

My Number One Hero

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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 4.6k

[ ✘ (𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰!), ☀︎ ] smut with a sweet, savory aftertaste

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : dom!shouto, temperature play, edging, dirty talk, choking, begging, light degradation, cock/body worship, creampie

𝐛𝐢𝐨 : After months of careful planning and preparation, you finally get the chance to make your move on your favorite Pro Hero, Shouto. Upon learning you’re his biggest fan, he decides to give you the VIP experience by offering to accompany you to your hotel room for the night.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i said a smut, smut, smutty smut. smut smut smutitty smut. feels like it’s been a while since i’ve written porn without plot! i guess this has a little story, though, so it’s not just complete sin ;)

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─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅂irens echo in the distance, faraway blaring interrupting the otherwise serene, chilly night. You can hear them through the open window as soon as you slip inside the room, having left it open hours ago when you made your way to the hotel bar; the very place that you would lay in wait for the target of your affection to arrive.

Lady Luck has smiled fortunately upon you tonight— it's all you could really ask for, at this point. You had done your research— you’d flown in for the Hero conference, booked your room in the same hotel that hosted the event, and even figured out his itinerary for the weekend. How you had managed to actually convince him to return to your room with you, you aren’t exactly sure, but you also don't really give a damn for logistics. Not when the telltale click of the lock turning sounds, and it’s just the two of you, finally alone.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Then he’s pressing your body into the back of the door. Strong hands seize your waist and thread into the hair at the base of your neck, pulling your head back so he can lean down and smother your lips with his. You let out a moan, receptive of his sudden onslaught of kisses. His tongue runs across your bottom lip before it parts the seam of your mouth, stroking yours in greeting. Your head is clouded with lust, everything about the man simply addictive. You’ve idolized him for so long, fantasized about him endlessly. And now that you’re given the chance, you’re going to absolutely worship him.

Before you know it, the kiss becomes frantic. His grip on you tightens, crushing your body between his powerful, slender frame and the solid wood of the door. A lean, muscled thigh splits your legs as he presses himself against you, like he’s desperate for every inch of your bodies to touch, to grind against each other. Your tongue tangles with his, your fingers coiled in his silky, dual-colored hair.

As he lets out a particularly throaty groan, your hips buck and your core brushes against the sinews of his sturdy quad, your head falling back to thump against the door while you moan out his name in response. “S-Shouto— mmph~”

His lips claim yours again, leaning down so he can force your mouths together harder as he flexes the muscle and rubs it between your legs a few more times before pulling back. You gasp as his hands unlatch from their rough grasp on you and instead grab onto the back of your thighs, long fingers curling into your plush flesh as he yanks you into the air. Your legs wrap around his waist automatically, your arms tightening around his neck and fingers fisting his hair roughly. You share a moan between kisses, mouths slotting to move in sync with one another as his feet begin to navigate toward the bed.

Somehow in the dark of your hotel room, he manages to stumble his way to his destination. The mattress creaks under your shared weight, your breath escaping you as your back hits the comforter, hair flying to fan out around your face. The moonlight illuminates his face, your heart rate picking up as you take in his strikingly handsome features. Without thinking, you reach out and run your fingertips along the edge of his jaw, eyes focused on the way your thumb catches over his lip. When you look back into his eyes, you find yourself pinned with his ardent gaze— the stray beams from the moon’s glow making his two-toned eyes look like galaxies with the sole intent to devour you whole. You can barely contain the wanton moan that dares to sound when he pulls the zip down the front of his hero suit, shrugging the material off and then tearing his undershirt over his head to reveal his chiseled torso to your wide, appreciative eyes. He allows a moment for your gaze to flit over every inch of shredded muscle, making sure you trace down his adonis belt and bite your lip before he speaks, confidence clear as day and ever-growing.

“Enjoying the view, my little fan?” Shouto rumbles, the hand that’s not supporting himself moving to tuck a stray hair behind your ear, then sliding down to rest threateningly on the column of your throat when you don’t respond.

You nod, unable to speak, tongue poking out to wet your lips as your hips wiggle underneath his narrow ones. Your legs are still locked around his waist, pulling his body flush against yours without any room for argument.

He sighs and ducks his head into your neck, releasing his grip and allowing you to breathe as his lips start to plant wet kisses over the skin his fingers had just dug into. “As am I,” he groans when he rips your blouse open, the buttons flying from the seams and tinkling all across the hardwood floor. His eyes light up at the sight before him, not even acknowledging the intricate white brasserie that hides your tits from his gaze, eyes purely wandering across the swell of your cleavage and the soft skin of your stomach. It takes him a moment to realize your choice of undergarments, the white lace accented with a deep scarlet on the trim. He chuckles lowly, cocking a brow as a smirk lifts his lips. “Well you came prepared, didn’t you?”

“Just for you,” you manage to squeak out, still battling your shock that the Pro Hero is even here in your hotel room with you, let alone the fact that you can feel his hard cock pressing against your cunt through your clothes.

He ruts his hips experimentally against yours as a reward, savoring the whimper that slithers out of you and the way your legs squeeze around his waist, back arching off the bed. “That’s right, love,” the pet name sends shivers through your body, lashes fluttering against your cheekbones as you pant, “you did say you’re my number one fan, didn’t you?”

Your fingers dig into the sheets when he begins to kiss your neck again, warm lips trailing down to the tops of your breasts. “Yes,” you gasp, his teeth peeling the rim of your bra down, nose rubbing over the sensitive skin of your areola. “And you’re my— my number one h-hero, Shouto, ahh~” His hot tongue rolls over your nipple, taking the perked bud into his mouth and swirling it around playfully. The sensation makes your head spin, his hands coming to knead at your soft breasts. His thumb swipes back and forth across your other nipple, stimulating you further. Despite the generous attention he gives to your chest, your core itches for the delicious friction his hips provided again, trembling and leaking into your panties.

As if he’s reading your mind, he shuffles back onto his knees, making you feel small and prey-like under his sizzling stare while he tears your pants down your legs. You can feel his eyes taking in every inch of skin revealed, especially when he zeroes in on the wet line staining the middle of your panties, which match your bra and also sport his distinct red and white. Once the offensive material is rid of your body, he pauses as his eyes linger on your covered cunt, licking his lips. But then he gets off the bed, choosing to stand next to the edge of the mattress. “Get up, then,” he instructs, “Come show me I’m your number one with that pretty little mouth of yours.”

Your body is up and following his command within seconds, eager to please. Your knees hit the floor as you settle yourself so you’re hovering over his foot, face just a short distance from the part of him that’s entertained your late-night thoughts for months on end now. Tentatively, you place a kiss to the front of his pants, just underneath his belt buckle. Heat floods your cheeks when your lips touch the length of his hard cock through his clothing and it twitches in response, your hands drifting up the inside of his thighs on their own accord. Then they’re undoing his belt and zipper, restlessly tugging the cloth down his pale, solid thighs. You leave his pants at his knees, impatient to have him in your mouth already while you slide his briefs down to meet his pants.

Shouto chuckles darkly when his cock springs out of its confines, your expression revealing your shock and intimidation as you eye his impressive member. But lust dominates your hesitance almost immediately, your eyelids falling to half mast as you open your mouth and lick a long stripe along the underside of his cock, from balls to tip. His hand flies to your head, digits gripping your hair when you take the swollen, leaking head into your mouth.

Your tongue washes at the bitter pre-cum that’s pearled at his tip, sucking gently as you start to sink deeper onto his cock. If you could, you would smile at the choked sputter that Shouto makes. Settling yourself into position, your hips rock forward and your panties drag across the smooth rubber of the white boots he dons with his hero suit. You moan, his cock halfway lodged into your throat and vibrating with your noise of pleasure.

“Fuck,” Shouto moans, pulling you off his cock just to rub his wet cockhead across your lips. You open your mouth, tongue extending out to chase his heavy length and slip it back inside. He taps the tip against your outstretched tongue a few times, sliding the hard shaft up and down. “How’s it taste, baby? Does it taste like you’d imagined, hmm? You like having my cock in your mouth?”

You whine, just wanting to swallow him whole at this point, hips still gyrating back and forth to rub your slickening cunt against the top of his foot. “Tastes so good, my hero’s cock tastes so good, so big… please, lemme taste it, make you feel good.”

He bites his bottom lip, letting you take his cock back into your hot, wet mouth. He groans loudly when you ram his length deeper into your throat, nearly taking the whole thing into your mouth in one go. An elongated expletive hisses out of his mouth as he throws his head back, your head beginning to bob up and down his throbbing member. “There you go… just like that, love… that’s right, you look so pretty drooling for me.”

The fingers in your hair slacken their hold, allowing you to work his cock even faster, eagerness more apparent than ever. You’re sucking his dick with vigor, like your only goal in life is to make him cum down your throat. No matter how hard he tries not to show you how affected he is, he can’t help but let out the varied range of moans and sounds of bliss that your blowjob triggers.

Each noise makes your pussy twitch in your panties, the slow grinding against his footwear not doing much to satiate your growing hunger for the hero. Shouto clicks his tongue at the action, and although he tries to sound cool, his voice comes out heavy, affected. “Fuck, you’re even humping my boot, so desperate my little slut…”

His praise only makes you purr on his cock, sucking against his thickness with a smile. Just as you’re getting into a rhythm, Shouto pulls you back by the scalp abruptly, a string of split stretching to connect your lips to his thick cock. He only gives you a second before you’re in his arms again, and then you’re back on the bed, back flat against the comforter and legs peeled apart.

Your heart starts to beat faster, Shouto moving to sit between your legs. He’s naked now, white moonlight cast across his hips and making his erect cock glisten and catch your eye, your legs spreading wider in welcome of the sight. But he only laughs at you, shaking his head as his big palms come to coast up the backs of your legs. “Not yet, my little fan…” he murmurs, “gotta return the favor first.”

One hand wraps around your ankle and he closes his eyes, lips brushing along the front of your shin. Then he looks at you again, casting you a predatory gaze while his fingers creep up your thighs, eventually coming to tug at the soaked material of your panties. Once they’re off from around your ankles, he hums as he inspects the mess inside of them, thumbing over the wet patch whose existence is his complete fault.

“Seems only right for my number one fan to get this sloppy from merely sucking me off..” he comments while toying with your slick, eyes shooting over to yours momentarily. “Wonder how easy it would be to just slip my cock inside of you right now,” he continues, fingers resting on your thigh as his thumb parts your slit, calloused finger pad bumping over your clit and just barely dipping into your drenched hole. It makes you moan and shiver, and he smirks in response. “I think a real hero could get you just a little bit sloppier, though.”

You cry out when his mouth descends on you, warm tongue running up and down your slit. Your hips buck up but Shouto already expects that, his hands slamming them down before they can even lift off the sheets fully. Then he’s sucking at your clit, flicking his tongue against you, and finally diving into your cunt. His forearms cross over your hips as he pulls your hips into his arms, nesting himself between your legs so he can plunge his tongue deep inside of you.

He plays with you til you’re completely soaked, dripping for him and edged to the verge of cumming just from him fingering you one knuckle deep while his tongue flicks across your clit. “Shit, you’re wet for me,” he pants, breath ragged from going down on you for so long he’s starved himself of oxygen, “You fantasize about this or something?”

You give him a look. He only smirks and slides his fingers in deeper, all the way to the knuckles, rough finger pads rubbing along your gummy walls. “Yes,” you purr, pleased with the stimulation, “I only think of you when I touch myself, Shouto. You’re my hero, after all— the only one I want.”

He clicks his tongue and groans at that, leaning down to press a kiss onto your clit. “Just your hero?”

The sheets shuffle as you shake your head quickly, biting the inside of your cheek in anticipation. “M-My number one hero,” you correct yourself breathlessly.

Shouto hums. Then, his tongue dips into the pool of excess slick dripping around his knuckles, dragging the wetness across your bundle of nerves. He teases you and brings you back to the edge once more, this time much quicker than the last as his fingers dig into your insides, curling into you mercilessly. “Don’t even know if you deserve to have my cock in you, baby,” he sighs, eyeing how your hips tremble and follow his hand when he pulls it away. “You’re already about to cum from just this, huh?”

“No,” you deny, moving to unclasp your bra and fling it off to the side. Shouto eyes your naked chest, gaze directing to the jiggle of your soft tits as you gasp for air. “I’ll be so good, Shouto, please— whatever you want.”

He tilts his head, considering your offer. All the while, his slender fingers pump inside you, curving to press against your spongy walls and tickle someplace deep inside of you.

At his silence, you pipe up. Offer an olive branch, so to speak. “I won’t cum until you say so,” you promise, still panting from your latest, denied climax and desperate for more of his touch. “I won’t, just— you can’t touch my clit, please, otherwise I’m gonna— o-ooohh, fuck Shouto~”

He cuts you off by thrusting his fingers inside you knuckle-deep, reaching his long digits and scraping at your velvet insides with tidy fingernails. “You won’t cum,” he parrots amusedly at your determined indignation, “Mmm, baby… you shouldn’t make such promises so lightly… I think you’ve forgotten who exactly is here between your trembling legs.”

You whimper at his response, eyes shutting and nails tearing at the blanket beneath your straining body. “I won’t,” you repeat, sounding almost like you’re trying to convince yourself more than him. “I— I won’t cum, not til you let me, fuck, please Shouto. Need it— anything for your cock inside me, please. Pleaseee.”

“Hmm,” Shouto feigns thought, his digits still pressing into your pussy earnestly. The stimulation has you clenching on him, fluttering around him. But just like you say, you don’t cum on his fingers. Not even when he rocks his hand flush against your mound, long fingers reaching deep, deep inside you and making saccharine-sweet mewls pour from your lips. You take it like a champ, not allowing yourself to climax even when he begins to thrust his fingers rougher inside of you. He relishes your screams when he activates his quirk, digits becoming cold and contrasting against your heated, quivering walls.

“Aha— hnnggg, a-aHAaa Shouto! Oh my god!” You nearly cum when his hot tongue laps at your clit, his fingers still digging just as far into your soaking cunt. It feels so good that you don’t even admonish him for breaking the one rule you’d set; your brain too foggy from the building pleasure in your abdomen. The temperature is a stark contrast to the fingers squelching inside of you, sending you nearly straight off the edge he’s brought you to many times already. You’re much too close, but he wont stop, won’t give you a second to breathe. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease put it in, fuck, please fuck me Sho, please be my hero and stretch me with your fat hero cock, pleaseineeditsofuckingbadddd.”

Then everything stops. His hand retreats, as does his face, and you wail at the loss. You’re hurtling back to earth, feeling like you’re falling through the clouds and the atmosphere as the orgasm you were so close to experiencing fades away. But the bitter comedown only lasts for a second, because then Shouto’s tugging your hips down the sheets so the pink head of his cock presses flush against your dripping entrance. His hips jerk forward and you’re so wet that he enters you effortlessly.

A strangled groan rings the air in the hotel room, and you’re unsure if it was from you, him, or the both of you. His cock is hot and thick, filling your pussy to the brim and stretching you so deliciously. His length spears past the point of comfort, but the ache of penetration feels so terribly good that when you try to find your voice to complain, all that comes out is a long, erotic moan.

Shouto drops onto his elbows, trapping your open legs against the mattress as he begins to fuck you. He growls at the way your cunt suffocates his cock, squeezing and hugging him so well. Placing sloppy kisses on your throat, his thrusts begin to pick up. “Gonna fuck you stupid, love,” he swears as his hot breath fans your neck glistening with his saliva. “Fuck you so good that I’m the only one who can satisfy you— make you mine, my little fan.”

Your reply is a babbling of yeses strung together, eyes rolled back and legs pulling his hips as close to yours as they can. His promise sounds so good, his cock feels even better, and your pussy tightens around him— he’s bringing you to the edge yet again.

He can feel your impending climax, and it only stokes the flames of his ego. He smiles down at your fucked-out expression, but it turns out as more of a snarl. It doesn’t matter— you’re not even looking at him, trying your hardest not to cum right then and there from his ruthless assault on your g-spot. Moving his weight to one arm, he reaches down and starts to rub your clit, taking your nipple between his teeth at the same time and ravishing it with his quirk-cooled tongue.

“That’s cheating!” you sob but it turns into a moan, fingers clenching around his bicep in warning, your body thrumming with waves of building pleasure. Your pussy’s clenching onto him, trying to suck him back inside and milk him for all his worth, your mind too clouded with lust to really do anything in retaliation.

“But you seem to like it when I break your rules,” Shouto replies cooly as he lets your chilled nipple fall from his mouth, continuing to thrust into you, and having the gall to stare daggers directly into your crumbling glare. Each slick, powerful slap of your fronts coming together has your legs wrapping around him, your toes curling in preparation, heels digging into his firm behind. He can tell you’re teetering on the edge— honestly he's surprised you even managed to last this long.

There are tears of pleasure dotting along your lashes. Your hips are widening with every crash of Shouto’s hips against them, your body arching to welcome the ripples of pleasure each rough push against your g-spot produces. Then his fingers pull away from your clit again without warning, and you whine at the loss, orgasm stunted and sliding toward the drain.

“I do,” you gasp, hips jumping to chase his receding ones, and slamming his long length balls-deep inside of you. Shouto groans, pauses, and then grinds his hips and stirs his cock inside of you, teeth seizing his bottom lip hostage and eyes glinting down at you, daring you to say it. You’re so fucking close to just creaming all over his cock that you’re desperate, you don’t care if that’s how you come off in this moment. You need to cum. “I like it— Fuck, I love it, please— please be my hero, Shouto. Please, want you to fuck me and let me milk all the cum out your big hero cock please, I need it, Shouto— pleaseeee, ple—aHHA!”

Shouto savors the way you cry out when he pins the backs of your knees into the comforter, pulling himself up to sheathe his cock inside of you completely, then flattening you with his torso and crushing your hips with his. It’s so deep that it hurts, but the burn of your walls stretching around him makes tremors flutter through your pussy. You look at him through barely-open eyes, arms thrown up and hands digging into the blanket as you share a look of mutual understanding.

You’re absolutely done for.

One. Two. Three strokes of his fat cock inside of you and your cunt is throbbing around him, velvet walls hugging tight as your body shivers in euphoria. Shouto moans as you squeeze him ruthlessly, your body begging for his seed. You’re having an out-of-body experience, writhing with mind-numbing, brain melting ecstasy as Shouto manages to slip out of you partly, then shoves himself back into your soaking pussy just as deep. He swears as your body presses against him as close as possible, your hips hooking to nestle his cock deep inside your pulsing cunt. As if you’re not breathless enough, his rough fingers come to latch around your throat, squeezing the sides so you’re almost choking. Then he’s drilling into you without restraint, fucking you so hard you can feel your ass making an indent in the cheap hotel mattress. It’s everything you’ve dreamed of and more.

“Fuck, should I cum in my number one fan’s tight little cunt?” he taunts, watching how the desperation in your teary eyes shines brightly. “Would you like that, cutie? Want me to fill your slutty little hole with my seed, hmm?” Sweat runs down his chest and gleams in the moonlight, the crevices between his sculpted muscles shining as he exerts himself. “A-Agh— Bet you’d like your hero’s cum inside of you, huh? Dripping… fuck— dripping into you and filling you up nice and good, yeah?”

You nod wildly, jaw unhinged but unable to speak, his hand on your throat still just as tight. Your orgasm is just starting to fade, overstimulated tears glittering down the sides of your face. Shouto’s broken pants transform into a crescendo of moans, his hips slapping the backs of your thighs harsher than ever as he chases his own release. You whimper when a wild, savage growl tears out of his chest, movements stalling as his cock twitches balls-deep inside you, sticky ribbons of white spurting and volcanoing out of him. His hulking biceps pull your chest flush against his heaving one, the hand around your throat sliding to hold the back of your neck up so he can kiss you deeply through the throes of his orgasm.

Your tongues caress each other slowly, passion peaking as he holds you in his arms like you’re a delicate, glass figurine about to shatter under his weight. He’s panting, chest rising and falling swiftly in between kisses. When you’re satisfied with his affection, he lays your body down onto the comforter, removing himself from you with gentle precision. Then he comes to lay beside you, pulling you close so that your head lays on his broad chest.

“Thank you for playing along, baby,” Shouto whispers, scattering kisses across your warm cheeks. “You did so well, my love. That was a thousand times better than I ever imagined.”

You laugh wearily, hand coming up to trace his sharp jawline with your thumb. He leans into your caress, a hand covering the back of yours and squeezing gently. “My pleasure,” you respond cheekily, closing your eyes and attempting to calm your racing heart. “You were kinda hot, though— all dominant like that. You’ve got a surprisingly dirty mouth, mister.”

“Really?” he hums, seemingly pleased with your praise. “I thought you were the hot one, begging for your hero’s cock like that all cute and desperate.” He nuzzles his nose against yours, laughing lightly.

You smile and press a chaste kiss to his lips. “Mmm, well you are my hero, Sho. My number one hero… always.”

Shouto sighs happily at your confession, a shy smile spreading on his lips. “Aw, baby… now I’m hard again.”

That earns him a smack in the chest as you giggle at his revelation. Curious, you glance down at his cock, and sure enough, there’s a telltale shadow standing upright in between his hips.

“I wouldn’t mind a round two,” you suggest, turning to wink at him.

“Ready for some good ‘ole married people sex, then, love?” he suggests, a brow raising as his hand glides over your propped-up hip.

“So ready, my sexual-deviant husband.”

“Good, my naughty little wife. This time, you can call me the usual, then.”

You bite your lip, batting your lashes and looking up at him with a glint in your eye. “Yes, Sir.”

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

make sure to let me know if you enjoyed!! thank you sm for reading my sho-hoes hehehe :) <3

➥ masterlist

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #todoroki shouto smut #todoroki shoto smut #todoroki smut #shouto smut #bnha smut #mha smut #my fics

2K notes · View notes

ginemrys · 3 years ago

Note

a bedsharing fic!! <3

i had some fun with this one!!! thank you for sending in the prompt @sunshine-marauders <3

-------

“Lily, it’s okay, we’ll grab a room in a hotel, it’s not the end of the world.” James said as the two of them stood staring up at the boards in the centre of Euston station, tears in Lily’s eyes as she read the bright orange “CANCELLED” sign beside their train, the last train of the night that would get them home.

It had been a wonderful night of visiting the theatre with one of her best friends, getting lost in a musical for a few hours. The two of them had been singing songs from the show to each other on the tube on the way back to their station, not caring as they got weird stares from other passengers on the Northern line whilst they sang a beautiful rendition of All I Ask Of You. And sure, Lily had felt her heart beat a little faster when they reached the point of the song where Christine and Raoul kiss as she looked into James’ eyes, but that didn’t mean she liked him. It just meant that she understood the character, right?

But their sing-along had come at a price. They’d missed their stop. And the next after that. Then the next. It wasn’t until the last passenger left besides them on the train got off at Golders Green that they’d realised their mistake. And then they’d had to run and get the tube back to Euston, only to just miss one. A three minute wait later and they were finally heading back to Euston, getting off to discover that the last train to Northampton was cancelled. And they were stranded in London.

Lily was wiping furiously at her eyes. They’d stopped for a drink in a bar after the show, assuming that they’d have enough time. So the alcohol in her system heightened her emotions, resulting in the water works. James was scrolling through his phone, looking for the closest hotel.

“There’s a Travelodge or a Premier Inn, they’re fairly close. Everything else is ridiculously expensive.” James said, glancing up at her. “Which would you prefer?”

“Premier Inn, duh.” Lily said, pushing her hair out of her face. “Are you sure we can’t get a taxi?”

“From Euston to Leighton Buzzard?” James shook his head. “It’ll be cheaper to spend the night. Come on, it won’t be that bad. It’s just a short walk and then we can grab some breakfast in the morning before heading home.” He wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “What do you say?”

“Fine,” Lily shoved his side playfully, but leaned into his hold after. “But you’re buying breakfast, you’re the one who suggested drinks.”

“Deal.” James chuckled before ducking to kiss the top of her head. “Come on, let’s go. It’s late and we’re both shattered.”

And so they made their way out of the station, following Google Maps to the closest Premier Inn. It was dead quiet inside, just one sleepy receptionist behind the desk barely able to hold her head up.

“Hi, how can I help?” She asked in a monotone voice, having just blinked at the two of them a few times as if she was trying to figure out if they were real or just her imagination.

“Hey, we missed the last train home. Do you have any rooms for tonight?” James asked, running his hand through his hair. Lily watched his movements, eyes following the motion of his fingers brushing through the messy black curls. She wanted to do that, run her hands through his hair. Chill out, Lily. She mentally berated herself, barely hearing the conversation beside her as she tried to sort out whatever the hell was going on with her hormones at that moment.

“Lily?”

“What?”

“Are you good with sharing a bed? There’s only doubles left.”

Holy shit. The thought of sharing a bed with James both thrilled and terrified her. Would she be able to control herself around him? The not crush but definitely a crush that she’d been harbouring for him for the last few months might rear its ugly head and make her do something stupid. But then again, she really didn’t want to have to walk all the way to the Travelodge and have the exact same option, or no room at all.

So she nodded, blushing when James grinned and turned back to the receptionist, passing over his card. Lily tried to protest but he insisted that she could just send him half the money later to save time. Then before she knew it she was joining him in the lift, heading up to the fifth floor. Of course James had had the foresight to ask for some toothbrushes and toothpaste, Lily was far too occupied to even consider such a thing.

Lily decided that she was going to hum to herself the overture to Phantom of the Opera as they travelled up to their floor, her eyes fixed on the ceiling of the lift. And then James’ hand was in hers, pulling her out of the lift and down the corridors of the fifth floor until they came to a stop in front of their room. He swiped the key card and there they were, alone, in a room with one bed.

Her throat felt thick as Lily looked at the double bed, why did it look so tiny? She stood in the small space beside the open wardrobe and the bathroom while James flicked on the lights and moved further into the room, peeling off his jacket and kicking off his shoes as he went.

“Come on, Evans. It’s just a place to sleep.” He smiled at her as he said it, noticing her hesitance. Damn him for being so perceptive to her emotions all of the time. With a deep breath, Lily walked further into the room, setting her shoes beside his while her own jacket draped over the top of his on the chair.

“Here, toothbrush.” He said, passing her one of the two clear toothbrushes he had picked up. “I’ll let you use the bathroom first, gentleman as I am.”

“Oh, so kind.” Lily rolled her eyes while grinning at him, accepting the toothbrush gratefully. She shut herself up in the bathroom, immediately rushing to the sink to splash some water on her face. Why was she so warm? “Get it together, Evans.” She muttered to herself, glancing at her reflection. She sighed as she looked at her makeup, minimal as it was, she had nothing to remove it with. Which would almost certainly result in panda eyes in the morning, but what other choice did she have?

So she left her face alone and focused on brushing her teeth, being a little more thorough than she usually would so James wouldn’t have to wake up to horrific morning breath. God, James was going to see her first thing in the morning. Christ on a bike. She filled one of the small glasses by the sink with water to rinse out her mouth, then gulped another glass down.

James was sitting perched on the edge of the bed when she returned, his eyes meeting hers straight away. Damn, did this man ever stop smiling?

“All… All yours.” Lily said quietly, stepping out of the way as he moved to head into the bathroom.

“Thanks, Lil.”

The door locked behind him and she released a deep breath again, her fingers moving shakily to undo her jeans. She knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep in them, so wanted to get them off and climb under the covers before he could come back. He wouldn’t want to see her in her underwear.

Jeans folded, with her bra tucked safely beneath them, Lily climbed into the left side of the bed, hoping he didn’t mind that she preferred the left. She plugged her phone into the socket next to her bed, thanking her past self for packing her charger in her bag. And then she waited, sitting cross-legged beneath the duvet as she listened to the sounds of the tap running.

The bathroom door opened and Lily had to do her best not to gasp. He’d taken his shirt off. It wasn’t even like it was the first time she’d seen him shirtless either, but seeing him in a dimly lit bedroom right before he was about to be laying right next to her was something else.

“You don’t mind if I sleep in my boxers, do you?” He was asking, his eyes having taken note of her folded jeans.

Lily shook her head, doing her best to look him in the eyes rather than drool all over his bare chest like some hormonal teenage girl watching Magic Mike for the first time. But then he turned his back on her and was pushing his jeans over his hips and Lily couldn’t help but stare. It was actually so unfair how fit her best friend was now, she could still remember the scrawny little kid she used to swim in the local lake with.

Any shred of sanity Lily had left vanished when he turned to face her again, she could feel a wave of heat rushing all over her body. And he’d seen it happen, had seen her eyes darken and her gaze shift into something hungry.

But he ignored it, electing to just climb into bed beside her and turn out the light, facing away from her.

With a slight huff, Lily threw herself down against her pillow, gazing up at the dark ceiling. Her arms were folded over her chest, her legs still crossed like they had been when she’d been sitting. While annoyed that he’d not responded to her sex eyes, she also just felt embarrassed. Because she’d totally just objectified him, looked at her best friend in the whole world like he was a tree for her to climb and use. And she hated herself for it.

“I can hear you thinking, Evans.” James whispered through the darkness, his back still facing hers. “Relax.”

And she did, her hands slid to rest on her stomach, her legs unfolded and moved to rest against the mattress. Her eyes closed and she let out a small sigh. And then he had to go and roll over, his breath on her neck.

While she knew she should just ignore it, squint her eyes and try to sleep, Lily couldn’t help but turn her head on her pillow, her eyes opening once more. And there he was, looking at her. No glasses, his hair already made even messier than usual from the pillow. He just looked so soft.

Usually James was all sharp edges and angular, charisma dripping from every inch of his body. He was sarcastic and energetic and never ever seemed to get tired. But there, laying in bed beside him, he seemed so calm, so at peace. His sharp edges had blurred, softened by the look in his eyes as he gazed at Lily. And that was what he was doing, gazing.

It didn’t take her much to lean in, just one look from him was enough. Her body turned on the mattress as she shifted to reach his lips, her own brushing his softly. And then she moved to pull away, to see his reaction when he moved, his hand sliding to the back of her neck to drag her closer. His lips covered hers and by god, did it feel right. Lily’s hand came to rest on his chest as she kissed him eagerly, their mouths pressing together in a perfect dance, nothing too eager or too slow.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for months.” Lily whispered when they broke apart, her eyes still closed.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for years.”

She looked at him then. There was no trace of a lie in his eyes. She believed him, because of course she did. James never lied to her.

And then she tackled him against the bed and thanked the London Northwestern Railway gods for cancelling the last train home.

#jily fan fic #jily drabble #jily fic

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whoreshijima · 4 years ago

Text

So me and @m-mortimer did a lil collab :) all we do is thirst at eachother so here enjoy our one braincelled thinking and horniness 🤍

Thank you Izzy for allowing me to post this ilyvm and Your smart brain :))

WC- 2.9k

CW// daddy kink, reader has a vagina, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, slight mention of breeding, FaceTime masturbation, choking, mentions of fem receiving oral, basically no prep fucking

Every time Ushijima goes away, he promises to call you everyday, even if it’s for two minutes before bed or as he’s eating his lunch on the small breaks he gets. You appreciate it so much, the way he thinks about you constantly. But sometimes it gets to be way too much, way too long. He’s been away for three days now, three days too long. Ushijima called you as often as he could, simply missing the sweet tone you’d greet him with, the smile on your face as you answered the call. He loved every part of you, from how you dance whilst making dinner as he watched through the screen. Or how, like right now, you’re trying to hide your whimpers from the microphone and how you’re trying to keep your face straight, keeping the casual chatter about what you’re going to do that day.

It started as a simple FaceTime call from his cheap hotel bed, like any other day he’s away. But the grumbling deep voice on the other end of the phone, mixed with three days without his touch, made you shivery and needy. You didn’t know Ushijima was thinking the same thing. The slight mess of your bed hair and bare skin around your shoulders and chest from the small cami you were wearing made his breath catch in his chest, blood rushing south instantly.

“I dunno I might go grocery s-shoppping” you mumble out, cursing yourself for stumbling over your words as your fingers ghost over your clit, the slickness from your arousal easing your movements between your legs. Ushi can hear the sheets shuffling, the way your legs spread to give you more space to slide your fingers deep inside yourself, the wet sounds not breezing past your boyfriend's ears without notice. “Get us some f-food for when you come home?” You can’t hide the way your breath catches in your throat as you catch the spot deep inside you, the spot that Ushijima knows makes you scream and gush around him. “W-what would you like to eat?”

If Ushijima could answer honestly, he’d want to eat you. Spend hours between your legs as he swirls his warm tongue around and over your clit, strong hands pinning your legs to the bed as he spits and devours your cunt. There’s nothing better than the idea of you cumming over his mouth, writhing and wriggling under his firm grip, as two fingers curl and scissor inside you, knowing that he’s prepped you enough for his cock. Prepped you enough so that the stretch around him doesn’t hurt you as much as it should.

Just the thought of him being between your legs, cunt stretched so beautifully around him as he pushes inside you, your soft, plush thighs wrapped around his waist as he bucks his hips up into your swollen cunt. Imagining the way your warm walls surround him as he pins you to the mattress, a large hand wrapped around your tiny throat, completely at his mercy, has him pushing his hips into the mattress.

“Erm, chicken of some type?” Lower. His voice was definitely lower, almost a snarl as he talks to you, the pressure of his cock against the mattress making his eyes roll to the back of his head briefly.

“S-stir fry?” You turn your head to meet his gaze through the screen, your eyes are glazed over. Your glossy ones meet his lust filled stare, his lips are parted in small gasps and grunts. You know exactly how his other hand is gripping the sheets, knuckles turning whiter and whiter everytime the head of his cock catches against the bumps of the sheets and mattress. Neither of you bothering to hide from eachother, you let out a whine, letting your mouth hang open as you speed your fingers up against your clit.

How you wish you could see his swollen, leaking cock right now. The way it twitches with every grind forward, how the pre cum beads at the head of his cock before dripping down the shaft. But the way his face is scrunched up as he closes his eyes, the few beads of sweat dripping down his forehead and how the hand holding the phone is shaking ever so slightly drives you insane. You can hear the squeak of his hotel mattress everytime he moves against it, the steady sound obvious to anyone near his room. The gentle banging of the headboard against the wall would make anyone think he’s Railing someone hard, but it’s just him, desperately rutting against the bed.

Ushi growls out a “Fuck baby” and that’s all it takes for you to arch your back and cry out for him, fingers rubbing speedily at your swollen clit and leaking pussy. The lewd sounds of your sweet slick dripping out of you mixed with the sweet Mewls you let out, driving ushi over the edge. His hips roll one, two times before he grunts out, body shaking as he cums, spilling all over his boxers and the sheets underneath him. His cock is throbbing over the thought of cumming inside you, marking you as his. Breeding you and filling you up with his cum. He lets out a shaky breath, staring into your eyes as he watches your arm moving fast in the view of the camera.

“Cum for me” he growls, voice low and gruff as he commands you to cum. And you’re not one to disobey him, your fingers move faster as you grind up into your touch. A high whimper leaves your mouth as you reach the point of orgasm, swiftly followed by a loud and needy moan, directing it at your boyfriend. Your body shakes and twitches as you ride it out, a layer of sweat adorning your skin.

“Fuck...” you whisper, finally going limp against the sheets and pillows “I miss you... so much” his gaze has softened as he smiles gently at you. He so desperately wants to reach through the screen to stroke your cheek with his thumb, hooking his fingers under your chin and pull you in for a deep kiss. To feel how your spit mixes together, and how it drips over your chin after he’s fucked you dumb on his cock.

He chuckles deeply, it rumbling through his chest “Oh just you wait till I’m home baby”

He was late. Which was a first, because there was no skirting around anything with him, either five minutes early or exactly on time. Maybe it was the nerves making you work double speed, looking at the clock every other second, turning on your phone and forgetting to actually look at the time and having to turn it on again, revisiting the last message he’d sent you - a blunt text telling you he was just getting a taxi from the airport and that he should be back in about thirty minutes.

Forty minutes ago. The skin around your thumb was raw with how you’d been nibbling at it, but not from nerves, if the dampness of your underwear and the tension in your core was anything to go by. No, you were ridiculously turned on, from what? From everything, from nothing, from him and that goddamn look he gave you two nights ago, paired with a few choice words that sparked lightning up your spine just remembering them.

“Baby.”

In that blunt, dark voice of his, croaky from sleep and strained from moaning your name, lips swollen from how hard he’d been biting it to stop himself grunting and snarling as loud as he usually did. God - that was what you were waiting for, the sounds of him, the smell of him, the taste of him, of his mouth, of his fingers, of his cock.

You shivered, a wave of lust clouding your mind for a split second, daring to slide a hand between your thighs, trembling and tensing already, and all you’d done was think about him. 3 days, 3 fucking days and you were reduced to this quivering mess on the couch at the thought of Ushijima coming through that door and finally - finally giving you what he’d promised during that call.

A muffled vibration and ding sprung you from your thoughts, from your quick spiralling down into a puddle on the floor, ripping your fingers from your underwear to pick up your phone, heart stopping and breath catching at the singular word on the screen.

Here

It was a fucking word and yet, a fresh wave of arousal flushed through your body and you struggled to stand, shaking with adrenaline and panting heavily, the implications of the word taking a toll on your body and if you were in your right mind - you’d probably slapped yourself and remarked on how desperately pathetic you were acting. But it had been 3 days, 3 agonising days of waiting and texting and barely being able to talk to him outside his strict schedule and your shifts at work.

And now? He was here, he was here and you could hear the elevator ding at the end of the corridor and the back of your neck heated, and all you could see was the front door and your hand gripping the handle, and something thumped to the ground and -

He was here. Ushijima - he was stood right there, at arm’s length, neck pillow tucked under one arm and duffle bag slumped at his feet. That must have been the thing that fell to the floor, but you don’t really care because he’s staring at you with the dark, dangerous look on his face and it should have struck playful fear into you but all you could do was whimper,

“Toshi,”

You sounded so much better saying his name in real life, fresh and feeble and sending blood draining from his head so fast, one hand shot out to grab the door frame. Ushijima strained, against everything, knuckles turning white and he probably could have cracked the woodwork, cock unbearably hard and aching within seconds of seeing you. It would have been a lie to say that he hadn’t been half hard the entire time after your call, unable to get the vision of you with your head tossed back and your eyes scrunching in pleasure, cumming deliciously from the frantic movements of your fingers beneath your pyjamas.

“Again,”

You squeak, he’s never sounded like that before, never been so low and so gruff, on the verge of snapping, avoiding your eye because if he could see the wrecked gaze you fixed on him -

“Toshi - please,”

His shirt ripped from the force with which he tore it over his head, one arm getting caught in his desperate attempt to strip and he very nearly tripped when his foot caught in the strap of his duffle bag, dragging it over the threshold before untangling himself,

“Again, say it again baby,”

He’s on you before you know what’s going on, kicking the door shut but neither of you hear it click, too consumed in each other to really worry about the fact his bag is preventing you two from having complete privacy. But you can’t think, you can’t form a single thought apart from,

“Toshi - Toshi more please!” Ushijima’s mouth swallowing your words almost instantly, one of his hands cupping the entirety of the back of your head, tilting you just so and allowing him to lick into you, feasting on your lips and tongue like a man starved and for a second, you realise he probably is. And so are you, god - you’re hungry for everything he has to offer, wrapping your hands around his waist and trying desperately to shove his sweat pants down, hissing when he accidentally bit your lip too hard but he’s dipping to your neck and delivering an even harsher bite -

“Fuck,”

Your legs give out, like they usually do under his rough assaults of your neck but you often have a bed or a couch behind you, nothing cushioning you from the hard wood floors of the hallway except for the fat of your ass and his arms encircling your head and shoulders.

“Here - I’m fucking you here, I can’t wait,” Ushijima follows you down, mouth barely leaving yours, form engulfing yours, hands trapping yours. He spreads you out on the cold floor, snarling when he gets a face of your chest from how violently you arch at the temperature and the painful nips left over the skin of your collar bone.

Ushijima isn’t much of a talker when he’s got you trembling underneath him, but the comments that are spat unfiltered from his mouth do absolutely nothing to curb the bright hot lust making you loose all semblance of control,

“Fuck - you’re soaking, did you wait for me? Did you make yourself cum again after I ended the call? No? I didn’t - I’ve been waiting for two days to do this, to touch you like this, put my hands on your body like this - fuck baby you’re so needy - no, here, look at me,”

You hadn’t even realised you had closed your eyes and thrown your head back, feeling thick fingers digging into your jaw and forcing you to look at him, dark eyes tracing every inch of your face while he dragged the other hand down your torso, short nails catching the loose fabric of your dress. It was a short moment of clarity; him looking at you, you looking at him, eyes softening so something akin to affectionate love before it was overwhelmed with predatory intent, that soft touch of his hand shoving your thighs apart and sinking into your underwear,

“M’not - I can’t wait, I can’t - let me,”

“Yes! Yes! Toshi please!”

You two sound ridiculous, desperate and clawing at each other, your smaller fingers shoving his trousers down over his ass and your entire body jolts when his cock dropped heavily on to your cunt, hot and angry and hard as fucking steel, throbbing against your clit and you clench around nothing, the anticipation too much to contain.

Ushijima is in no better state than you, fumbling with his footing with snaps of his jaw and he’s entirely too rough with the way he pumps himself, grinding against the silk of your cunt in a feeble attempt to try and prep you, to make the breach less painful, less of a stretch but you need that, you do and it’s driving you crazy, and it’s probably driving him crazy too,

“Go - Toshi, please, I can’t - fuck me please!”

The strength that emerges from the man astounds you every time, hoisting your thighs high up his waist and then apparently changing his mind, throwing your ankles over his shoulders and looming over you, sinking into you with once, debilitating thrust of his hips. And the noise that left him, oh god - it was borderline animalistic, debauched and wrecked, and one of the hottest things you think you’ve ever heard.

He’s got his hands either side of your head, clawing against the floor for purchase, immediately starting a brutal pace, the slap of his skin on yours echoing throughout the apartment, drowned out only by the high pitched squeals coming from your mouth and the filthy way he was talking down at you,

“Taking me so well baby, so fucking well - m’so proud of you, didn’t need any prep - fuck! So tight, so goddamn tight f’me -,” he doesn’t soften, not when the sounds of your pussy creaming around his cock grows louder with every sharp snap of his hips, shoving your legs into your chest and forcing harsh shouts from your throat,

“Yes! Daddy - missed you so, so much - harder, please! I’ll be s’good for you, so good just - hah - harder!”

Neither of you realise that every sound your bodies produce, every squelch and click of your cunt, every growl and deep snarl from his chest, every needy squeal and plea from your lips can be heard all the way down the corridor. The front door was still open, propped from where the duffle bag had prevented it from closing, the light from the corridor providing a perfect spotlight for the unsuspecting neighbour who dared venture out to see what all the noises were.

The vision of Ushijima’s back rippling and rolling with his bringing his hand to close around your throat, prompting a garbled hiccup and tears to spring in your eyes, and your little feet dangling uselessly over his shoulders probably should have rendered them silent, shocked and rooted to the spot.

But the quiet gasp was caught by the hulking creature on top of you, quirking his head and making eye contact with them for a split second before simply resuming his quick, paralysing thrusts, harder even than before - drawing a high pitched wail from your throat and there was no mistaking the fluid splashing on the floor, mingling with white and smearing over his balls, slapping against your ass.

A leg struck out, kicking the door shut and locking the duffle outside, looking as sorry for itself and your neighbour, cheeks flushed and eyes slightly glassy, still reflecting the vision of you cumming harshly on Ushijima’s cock, and him simply continuing to fuck you through it, the sounds of you two muffled but no less poignant against the calm stupor of the corridor.

And so what if it carried on, moving through the apartment and quiet possibly earning a complaint from the complex security but neither of you could hear the phone ringing over the bed creaking and slamming against the wall, too consumed in each other, too wound up in the sounds you could pull and the reactions you could bring forward. Damn - if him only being gone for three days turned you both into needy desperate animals, then how the hell would you cope with his next match that required over a week away in a completely different country?

Please follow Izzy she’s a genius and the reason for me being horny @m-mortimer

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu!!#ushijima x yn #ushijima #ushijima Wakatoshi #ushijima smut #ushijima x reader #Haikyuu smut #hq smut #hq ushijima #Haikyuu x reader #Haikyuu x yn

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gingersnaaps · 4 years ago

Text

stress relief

i feel like iwa would be the type of person to start off gentle hehe

wc: 1.5k~

tags/tw(PLEASE READ): noncon, explicit n*fw, choking, forced creampie, forced unprotected sex, criminal/shady iwa, sex worker!reader, lil bit of degradation/humiliation, fem!reader, pwp

i don't want minors interacting with my content

When he stumbles in through the door of the run-down motel room with bandages wrapped around his knuckles and blood trickling down his forehead, you know you’re in for a hell of a night.

Iwaizumi had rung you up just half an hour ago, breathless and demanding and more desperate than you’d ever heard him sound before. You’re still not sure exactly what it is that he does - the answer to that question isn’t really for you to find out- but it makes enough for him to buy your body and your time for a night whenever he wants.

Lately, he’s been wanting it more and more often.

He flicks off the dirty yellow glare of the overhead lights, making his way to your bed. It’s dark outside, but the soft glow of the street lamps and tail lights illuminates his face as he nears. It’s covered with welts and bruises.

“Baby,” he whispers. “Come here.”

Crawling into his lap, you rest your head in the crook of his neck. “Shitty day?” you ask. It’s a pointless question, because the answer is far too obvious. But it fills up the silence, brings a sense of intimacy to a situation that is anything but intimate.

Iwaizumi hums in affirmation. His hands begin to wander, grazing over your stomach, groping at your thighs, squeezing at the supple flesh of your breasts. He’s done this more times than he can count, but every time he gets to touch your body feels like a reward for him.

Of course, it helps that you’re dressed up nicely for him.

His gaze flickers over the white lace of your lingerie greedily, taking in every detail of the way the fabric digs into the soft meat of your thighs and stomach. He trails a finger over your panties, and the dampness almost clings to his skin in a way that sends heat jolting down to his stomach.

He’s had enough of waiting.

Iwaizumi hooks his thumb on the waist of your panties and drags downwards. You wriggle in his lap, trying to help him out, but his grip on your waist suddenly grows firmer.

“Stay still,” he murmurs. “Let me do it.”

You comply, your body going limp as his hands slip your panties off and spread your thighs apart. The palms of his hands are warm, and you can’t help but let out a moan at the way he maneuvers you until you’re open for him. Iwaizumi trails soft, teasing kisses from your hair all the way down your jaw, tongue flicking out to lick at your earlobe. The motion sends pleasant shivers through your body.

He starts rubbing firm, insistent circles around your clit, and it’s not long until the wetness starts leaking out onto his fingertips. He looks down at you, a crooked smile appearing on his face.

You’re so fucking perfect.

“Open up, baby,” he coaxes, moving his hand up to your jaw. “Want you to taste just how fucking good this pussy is.” Iwaizumi’s words are gentle, but the force with which he holds your mouth makes you feel helpless in his grasp.

He watches intensely as you wrap your lips around his fingers and start sucking, laving your tongue around each digit. When he withdraws them, glistening and dripping wet, he can’t help the hunger that curls tight in the pit of his stomach.

You’re going to look so good spread out on his fingers, and even better when he finally fucks you stupid on his cock.

This time, there’s no facade of delicacy or hesitation when he shoves two thick fingers inside. You instinctively tighten around them, and he lets out a moan at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him. He curls his fingers, probing and caressing relentlessly until he finds the spot that makes you twitch and squirm on his lap. Your eyelashes flutter and your breath hitches. Iwaizumi looks down at you - flushed, panting, and pliant for him - and his eyes gleam with satisfaction. You’ve had enough prep, he decides.

You mewl at the loss of his fingers, but he clicks his tongue. “Don’t worry, baby. I know it feels good now, but I promise I can make it even better.”

Your eyes widen. It’s too cute, really.

He unzips his pants and pulls out his cock, stroking it languidly a few times. He pulls you closer, every warm breath of his puffing against your neck, and hoists you up until your slit is rubbing against his length.

You stiffen.

“Iwa,” you whisper. “Need a condom, remember?”

He lets out an easy chuckle at your protest. “It’s okay, baby. Just this once. I’ve had a shitty day, remember? Like you said.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head vigorously. “You have to put one on. It’s one of my rules.”

“It’s one time. Promise.”

His voice remains low, but the hand around your waist suddenly tightens as you attempt to pull away. A hand clamps over your mouth just as you begin to shriek, panic setting in, but the dread in the pit of your stomach tells you what you already knew.

There’s no escape here.

“Also,” he growls, his lips pressed harshly against your ear. “I don’t care about your stupid fucking rules.”

He grabs your thighs out from under you, pushing your face down into the mattress. A hand tangled into your hair keeps you in place, and you let out a useless cry of pain as he tugs hard. He scoffs at your struggle. You can’t really move in this position, but when you try, all you end up doing is wiggling your ass. You realize it does the opposite of deterring him, right?

The tip of his cock rests at the entrance of your pussy, and you tense in anticipation. He frowns. You really should relax. It would make this process easier, but he doesn’t really have a problem with making things a little bit painful for you either.

He thrusts in with one harsh stroke. There’s no softness or tenderness, but you still can’t help but react with an involuntary shudder.

Iwaizumi laughs. “Like a trained response, huh?”

You bury your face deeper into the mattress in embarrassment, but the shame only grows when your cheek presses against sheets wet with your teels and drool. He starts moving, each stroke deep and fast, pounding against your cervix. The squelching noise of your wet cunt reverberates around the silence of the motel room.

Iwaizumi really can’t help it when he finds a hand automatically drifting to the base of your neck. He’s high off of his little power trip, and there’s nothing stopping him from taking it a step further - to the fantasy he’s always jerked himself off to late at night, imagining how your eyes would look rolled back into your head and gasping for breath.

As he wraps a rough, calloused hand around the back of your throat, he squeezes tight. You start thrashing around, but he leans down over your body. His presence is suffocating; one hand is wrapped around your neck, the other traps you under his arms, and you’re strung out on his cock to the point where you can barely move.

“The faster you make me come, the sooner I’ll let you breathe,” he spits.

You mumble incoherently. It doesn’t really matter what you wanted to say in response, because you understood the message he was trying to get across. You clamp down on his cock tighter than a vice, and he groans in pleasure.

He knew this was the right decision.

Iwaizumi doesn’t last long after that, his cock thrusting desperately into your warm, wet hole as you sputter and choke into the mattress. With a stuttered moan, he spills his cum deep into your womb. You can feel the warm, sticky fluid running down your thighs, and when he finally pulls his cock out, his seed stays buried deep inside.

Your pretty cunt looks better painted white. Iwaizumi grins.

“This is why whores like you are my favorite to fuck,” he says. “You never say no. You don’t mean it, at least.”

You don’t have the energy to do anything other than sniffle quietly. He doesn’t move to get up and leave, even though you wish he would. Instead, he moves closer, wrapping his arms around your spent, limp body.

“You were made for me, baby,” he whispers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

He stares out at the dimly lit street from beyond the hotel window, noting how peaceful and quiet it is. There was really no reason for him to be scared to do what he’d always wanted, he realizes. In fact, he takes a look down at your pretty face, streaked with runny mascara and red from crying, and decides he much prefers you this way.

Iwaizumi’s day is a whole lot better now.

thanks for reading <3

drop by my inbox sometime to say hello, i'd love to talk to you guys!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #yandere x reader #yandere iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi #iwa x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #tw.noncon #tw.dubcon #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu imagines #hq x reader #lin.n*fw #tw.dc

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years ago

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What Happens In Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There - Jacob Markstrom - Part 2

Word Count: 4,845

POV: Reader

Warning: Language, NSFW, Smut

Notes: Well you guys have spoken and it looks like this the fic you wanted posted. Don’t worry, I’ll be posting the others soon. But in case you were wondering where we left. Our reader was in Vegas at a bachelorette party, when she had a few too many drinks and wound up married to one Jacob Markstrom. Let’s see what happens next. As always feedback is welcome. Happy Reading!

What Happens In Vegas...Doesn’t Always Stay There Masterlist

"Fuck," you yelled, once you realized that you were now Mrs. Markstrom. This couldn't be happening. Your brain couldn't be remembering things right.

"Vad? Vada r fel?" Jacob mumbled in a haze of sleep, lifting his head to check on you. You had no idea that he was asking you what was wrong, as he automatically defaulted to Swedish in his drowsy state. "Are you ok?"

"No, no I'm not." Your voice was panicked and you were starting to break out in a cold sweat. "We're married!"

His head flopped back down on the pillow. "Oh, that."

Wait he knew and wasn't saying anything. "That," you said with a note of distress in your voice. "What do you mean 'oh, that?'"

He turned his head so that he faced you, as you straightened your body so you could rest against the headboard; fighting the urge to get up and pace the room. "It was a joke. We just took a couple pictures with some Elvis."

A joke? Ok, that kind of seemed like drunk you, after all everyone said you were a fun drunk. You sagged back against the mattress, breathing a sigh of relief. "So that's all it was, a joke?"

"Mmmhmm." Well, that made you feel a bit better. "From what I remember it was. Things are a bit hazy." Jacob saying that, did not. He got up then, rolling onto his side and propping his head up. "I vaguely recall saying we were just going to snap some pictures and show your friend how silly it was to rush into things. I'm sure that's all we did." He had to be right, that part of the night still eluded you, though you do remember wandering into the chapel. "Though we can still pretend we're on our honeymoon if you want."

His free hand, the one his head wasn't propped up on, slid under the duvet and across your midsection. His fingers wandering down to your core. His eyebrows wiggled suggestively, a silent plea for you to let him keep going. Now that you were a bit more relieved at knowing your marriage to him was some elaborate rouse, you were a bit more inclined for that second round with him, so you smiled giving him the green light to continue.

Jacob didn't need to be told twice, as you felt his fingers widening your legs to give him access to your pussy. His fingertips lightly brushed against you and you sucked in a breath. "Fan du ar vat." You had to admit that Swedish wasn't the most seductive language, but when it rolled off his tongue it turned you into jelly. He recognized that you didn't know what he was saying and translated for you. "Fuck, you're wet." You were, there was no denying that, as this man just did things to you by simply giving you a look.

He wasted no time sliding a finger inside you while his thumb brushed against your clit. You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips as he made your body tingle with delight. "So sensitive, prinsessa. I love that." His mouth kissed the outside of your thigh as he still laid on his side, his fingers torturing you. "I may not remember all of last night," Jacob admitted. "But I remember hearing you moan." As if on cue, you groaned out when his finger hit your most delicate spot. "So pretty." He removed his fingers and you whined at the loss of contact. "Ride me, prinsessa." He rolled onto his back, giving your thigh a squeeze.

There was no denying your needs right then. You wanted him inside you, so you straddled him. Knees on either side of his hips, you positioned his cock right at your entrance. You savored the feel of him sliding inside you as you sunk down on him slowly, fully engulfing his dick inside you. Jacob's hands slid up and down your sides caressing your body. After your tumble with him last night, you knew your hair had to be a disaster, so you ran your fingers through your locks, hoping to at least make yourself a bit more presentable as you rode him.

Unbeknownst to you, the picture you painted Jacob was nothing short of pornography; arms raised above your head, tits bouncing, as you slowly moved your hips against him. While his memory of last night was a bit hazy, being buried inside you wasn’t. He clearly recalled needing to get ahold of himself before he spent in you too soon. Now was no different, as he gripped your hips hard then wildly bucked up into you.

His movements thrilled you and had you bracing yourself against the headboard as he fucked you. He had told you to ride him but wasn’t willing to give over the reigns completely, but that was ok with you. He slowed his thrusts, giving you back just a bit of control, yet his hands lingered at your waist ready to take it back at any minute. You ran your hands up your side, then cupped your breasts, gently pulling on the nipples. “My god, you’re beautiful,” Jacob panted out as you looked down at him through hooded lashes.

The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room. Jacob’s fingertips dug into your ass cheeks as you picked up your pace, riding him earnestly now. His hips met you every time you ground down on him. At one point Jacob couldn’t take it anymore and he moved his one hand so he could toy with your clit. “Oh fuck,” you breathed out when he rubbed the little nub. “Jacob…I’m gonna…” The rest was a garbled mess as you came hard grinding down on his rock-hard cock inside you.

“Yes, prinsessa.” Jacob watched you fall apart loving every emotion that played across your face. It pushed him over the edge and with a few more thrusts he spilled his cum deep inside your cunt.

Your body was spent as you sagged forward on top of Jacob. You were both breathing hard, chest heaving in an effort to draw in more air. After a few seconds, you felt his lips on you; kissing your forehead, your nose, and then finally your lips. The kiss was sweet and loving, perfect after the sweaty and exhausting sex that had just happened. “Min vackra prinsessa,” he whispered, tucking your hair behind your ear as it had cascaded around the two of you obscuring his view of your face. “Too bad our marriage is a joke, for I could get used to that.”

“We don’t have to be married for you to enjoy that again.” You pecked his lips then lifted off of him and rolled onto your side of the bed. “Come see me in LA anytime.”

“You realize I’ll be there at least four times with my schedule, and San Jose isn’t too far from you.” His body was turned towards you so that you could see the seriousness in his face.

“Well, I expect to be seeing my fake husband when he’s in town.” You gave him a little wink before adding, “And I think the trip to San Jose would be totally worth it.” He got up then and walked to the bathroom. You heard the water running and it wasn’t more than a minute or two before he was back at the bed.

“Here.” He brought you a glass of water and a couple aspirin. It was exactly what you needed.

“Thank you.”

“Sleep, it’s still early, then we’ll shower later.” He dropped a kiss to your lips while tucking the covers up around then crawling into bed with you. He tucked you into his side and you swiftly drifted back to sleep.

It was a couple hours later that Jacob woke up before you. His mind troubled with thoughts. It wasn’t a bad dream so much as a nagging feeling eating away at him. He carefully removed himself from the bed careful not to disturb you as you continued to sleep on peacefully. Covering himself with a pair of boxer briefs, he grabbed a bottle of water then sat down on the sofa in the suite. On the table lay the pictures from your fake wedding. He picked them up, laughing to himself at the photo on top. It was a dramatic shot of him asking you to marry him, and you acting shocked. He vaguely remembered doing that but the rest was all a blur. He leafed through the other shots. One of a fake Elvis, which seemed to be typical Vegas style, another of you kissing him after the proposal, still more of you being married by Elvis. They would all make for a cute memory of his time with you. Hell, part of him wished that he was married to you. He wouldn’t mind being buried balls deep in you every night.

Jacob finally got to the last photo, or what he thought was the last picture; only it was some sort of document. He flipped it so that he could read it better. “Fuck,” he whispered softly as he read the words so nicely scripted across the paper. It seemed to be a marriage license, signed not only by both of you but the Elvis impersonator as well, whose name wasn’t Elvis and seemed to be a legitimately licensed marriage officiant.

He needed to find out if this was real, so grabbing the hotel phone off the end table, he called the chapel. “Hello Mr. Markstrom, how can I help you?” An overly cheerful woman answered the phone.

“Um, yeah, so I was wondering…I was there last night with…” He had to look down at the license to remember your last night. “Ms. (Y/LN) and I have our license in my hand. I was just wondering how valid this is?”

“Oh, I can assure you Mr. Markstrom that it is one hundred percent authentic and has been filed electronically with the courthouse. You and Ms. (Y/LN) are indeed married. We make sure to dot all the I’s and cross all the T’s before we let you leave.”

Jacob covered the phone then muttered, “Fuck.”

“Is there anything else you need?”

“No, um…I’m good. Thank you.”

“No problem and congratulations again to you and the new Mrs. Markstrom.”

Jacob hung up the phone and swore furiously in Swedish. You stirred, hearing something but not really registering what was going on, as you blinked your eyes several times clearing the sleep from them. The bed was empty next to you, and you found yourself sitting up looking for Jacob. He wasn’t in the bathroom, so you got up and padded out to where the seating area was. Sure enough there he was sitting with his head in his hand. “Head hurt that bad?” He groaned in reply. “Come back to bed and I’ll make it feel better.”

He lifted his head up and turned to you then, a serious look in his eyes. “You’re not going to like this, prinsessa.” Well, if he was calling you princess again, it couldn’t be all bad. You raised an eyebrow in query. “Apparently, we’re married.”

“Right, you told me it was a joke.” You sat down on the couch beside him, noticing the scattered photos on the table. “See, like I would ever get married by some Elvis doppelganger.”

“It wasn’t a joke.” He handed over what looked like a marriage license, a very authentic one at that. Leave it to Vegas to be thorough even in practical joking. “There’s a seal on it and everything.” He was right there, but that would mean that this was real.

“Oh, no….no, no, no….no. This isn’t real. You said…”

“I know what I thought, but I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. So I called.” There was a look of dread on his face. "The paperwork has already been filed at the courthouse. Yay for technology."

You knew he was trying to find a bit of humor in this mess, but frankly, you didn't find it funny at all. "Now what?"

"I was just trying to come up with that when you came in."

It hit you then, the solution to your problem. Maybe if you hadn't drunk enough alcohol to float a small ship last night it would've come to you sooner. "We'll just get an annulment."

"Is that possible, after last night and well this morning?"

"Hmm, I hadn't thought about that. Well, divorce it is." It wasn't ideal and you can't imagine having to explain it down the line, years from now, when you finally found someone you wanted to be tied down to, but it was the answer to your problem.

Jacob seemed to mull it over a bit, and it struck you that he might be religious and that this might not be an option after all. "I'll make a phone call," he finally told you and you breathed out a sigh of relief. It took the two of you several minutes to locate your phones but eventually, you found them. While Jacob called his lawyer, you checked your messages. There were several texts from the girls saying they were heading to breakfast, so you shot one off yourself. There was no way you were meeting them yet, so you cried off stating that you were still hungover from the day before. You were really going to need to patch things up with Kennedy after all this trip was about her. Hopefully, you could share a laugh with her about this whole mess.

A curse word muttered, or at least you thought it was, one in Swedish, brought you back to the situation at hand, and you looked at Jacob expectantly. "Apparently, it's not as easy as we think." He blew out a very frustrated sigh. "It's still doable, but it's going to take a lot longer than I expected."

"How long?"

"A couple months after the papers are signed and filed, possibly more."

"What!?! You've got to be kidding me." That didn't make any sense at all. Shouldn't you be able to get a quickie divorce in a week when both parties were in agreement?

"Well, my citizenship is one factor, but apparently it just takes that kind of time."

"We got married in like, what...seconds. I don't understand." You started scrolling through your contacts looking for Aaron's number, then hit it and started to walk away.

"Who are you calling?"

"A friend, who's also an attorney." Aaron worked for the same firm as you, only in the legal department. Surely he'd dealt with a celebrity or two that had this same problem.

You gave Aaron the condensed version of what happened, hoping that he'd come through and be your savior. "I hate to say it (Y/N), this Jacob's attorney is right. It's going to take you that long, if not longer." A growl of frustration was all you gave as an answer. "Cheer up babe, it could be worse."

"Really? How so?"

"Well, you could've picked some homeless guy off the street. At least this one sounds decent, and it's not like you have to move to Canada or Sweden while you wait this out. Just go on about your business."

"I know, you're right. Thanks for your help, Aaron. I'll see you in a day or two." With that, you hung up the phone and headed back to Jacob.

"Looks like you didn't fare any better."

You sat heavily down on the couch. "No, not at all. Looks like we better start filing so we can get this done sooner than later." The look in Jacob's eye had you questioning things. You had thought you both were on the same page. Sure last night and this morning were fun, but what did you really know about each other. He couldn't really be thinking about staying married. When you couldn't take it any longer, you blurted out, "what?"

He shook his head. "Nothing." When you gave him that look that said you didn't believe him he finally fessed up. "You're wearing my shirt."

"Oh, sorry. I realized when I was on the phone I didn't have anything on. Hope you don't mind."

Jacob actually didn't mind at all, in fact, he kind of liked you in it, which was a new feeling. "No, not at all. Though I'll admit I like you without anything on as well."

It was hard to stop your eyes from rolling at his words especially at a time like this, but somehow you managed to. "While I appreciate the compliment, we should probably figure out what we're going to do." It was then that you looked at him, in only his boxers. His washboard abs calling out to your fingertips to just run over them, not to mention the strain of his cock against those briefs. You bit your lip just thinking about the things that you wanted to do to him and have him do to you. "And once that's done, then we can celebrate our divorce."

"I like the way you think." He scooted you closer on the couch so that your legs were draped over his. "I was thinking that while you were on the phone, that I can just have my lawyer handle things. He said he could have everything drawn up in a couple days since we don't have to split up a house or any belongs."

"That's fine. You can email me them and I'll just sign and send them back."

"He did mention one thing, though I'm loathed to bring it up." His hand was traveling up and down your shins making it hard to think, but you were intent upon getting this divorce started.

"Just tell me, after all, we are married, and married people shouldn't have secrets right?" I mean it was a bad joke, you'll admit that, but then if you couldn't laugh about this shamble of a mess you may start to cry.

"He wanted to make sure that you weren't after, well...you know."

Your eyebrows drew together as you tried to figure out his meaning, and then it hit you. "Oh my god! No, I'm not after any money. I would never and it's not like I don't have my own. I mean it's probably not anything close to what you make, but I do bring in quite a bit. Oh my god, I'm rambling. But no, no, I don't want a cent from you."

"I told him I thought that was the case, but he wanted me to be sure."

"Ok as long as you didn't think that."

Jacob was quick to tell you he didn't. "No, not at all. If I'm being honest, I think getting married was my idea, if I remember right."

"I wish I could remember more, though these pictures do bring back a few memories. I can't remember how we got these rings though. What is this cubic zirconia?"

"Umm, nope." His cheeks started to turn a delightful shade of red. "My credit card tells me it's a diamond."

"Oh Jacob," you exclaimed, taking off the ring. "This has to be a fortune. It's at least three carats." Quickly, you put the ring in his hand as if it was going to burn you. This fake marriage had caused enough damage that he didn't need to be on the hook for a ring that you'd never wear again.

"You know I can afford it right?"

"Of course, I know that. You just shouldn't have to pay for my mistake."

"It wasn't just your mistake." It was sweet of him to try and shoulder the blame, but if you wouldn't have had that tiff with Kennedy, then you wouldn't have gotten drunk ass stupid and married him. "We both did this, but there's no point in arguing about it. In a few short months, this marriage will be over."

"True."

"Let me give him a quick call and get things started." You went to move but Jacob stilled you with his arm. The conversation was brief, his hand was inching further up your thighs during the entire call, sending delightful tingles all over your body. As soon as he hung up, that same hand reached your core. "So now that that's settled. What about that celebration? You know while we're still married and all."

You'd already said you weren't making it to brunch with everyone, so there was really no reason, not to indulge in what you wanted. Scooting up a little further onto his lap, you grabbed the back of his neck and drew his lips down to yours. One kiss melted into another and another until neither of you could take it any longer and Jacob took you there on the sofa. After that, it was round 4 in the shower.

You and Jacob exchanged numbers so that you could keep in touch while the divorce papers were being worked on by his lawyer. Since both of you were still in Vegas another night, you agreed to meet up a little later. Jacob claiming that it was safer to be with his 'wife' than out looking for another one.

It was an hour after leaving Jacob before you were knocking on Kennedy’s door, there to apologize for everything you said to her the day before. She opened the door, and without so much as a hello, grabbed your arm and hauled you inside. “You have to tell me everything that happened?” How the hell did she know what had happened with Jacob. She was your best friend and all, but the last time you checked she was not a psychic. “I called Ryan and he told me those guys were from the Canucks, which happen to be his favorite hockey team in the world.” Somehow you really weren’t shocked to find that out. Considering Ryan was from Seattle and an avid sports fan. “When Jade told me, you were hooking up with one of them, I died. I need to know everything.”

Oh, you weren’t sure if she was ready to hear everything. “Can I first apologize for being an absolute asshole to you yesterday?”

“You can, but there’s no need. I know your feelings about marriage and how you think we’re rushing into it. I get that you were just looking out for me and only want me to be happy, and you know I’ll be happy with Ryan. I wasn’t really mad at you, per se. It was more about smoothing things over with Gretchen. You know how she can be.” You did know how Gretchen was, which was why you felt even worse for saying what you did, when you did. “(Y/N), you’re the closest thing I’ll ever have to a sister, and nothing you say is ever going to change that.”

You enveloped her in a massive hug. There were times that you felt as if you and Kennedy were twins separated at birth and it was nice to know she felt that way too. “I really am sorry.”

“It’s already forgiven. Now, tell me everything that happened, or more importantly; can you get any of their autographs so I can take them back to Ryan?”

“Oh, I’m pretty sure I can get us seats to any game if he wants to go?”

Kennedy's face was filled with a mixture of shock and joy. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure they have a family suite or something for wives to sit in.”

This time you watched as that same shocked look turned into confusion. “I’m not following you?”

“Well…I kind of sort of…” Kennedy might be your best friend, who knew you better than yourself, but you still didn’t know how to tell her this. It was always easiest to just rip the bandaid off, you supposed. “That is…I got married last night.”

“YOU WHAT?”

“Little louder, Kenny I don’t think they heard you at the Bellagio.”

“I’m sorry but you cannot just drop that bomb on me and expect me not to shout at you like you lost your damn mind.” Ok, she had a point. You had in fact lost your mind and your memory. Damn alcohol. “You need to tell me everything right now.”

It took you a half hour to tell Kennedy all the details of what had happened with Jacob. She was stunned, to say the least. In the end, the only thing she wanted to know was if you were now her matron of honor instead of maid. Leave it to Kennedy to make you laugh at a time like this. She agreed to keep your marriage a secret from the other girls and you hoped that she didn’t blurt it out like she did your little sexcapade with Superman, though she insisted that all of you meet up with Jacob and some of his teammates that night.

Like you, Jacob had only told one other person about what happened that night, his friend and teammate Chris; to everyone else, it just seemed as though you two were very interested in one another. At the end of the night, you were fumbling back into his suite, divesting him of every garment he had on, while he did the same to you. The next morning, you said your goodbyes but decided to keep in touch. Jacob promised you there would be tickets with your name on them anytime you wanted them in Vancouver and that he’d definitely see you when he was in LA. It was something you were definitely looking forward to. Despite the whole marriage debacle, or maybe because of it, you had to say that your trip to Las Vegas was one you were definitely going to remember for a lifetime.

Twenty-four hours later, when you were back in your own place, still trying to rehydrate from the past seventy-two hours, is when you received a phone call from Jacob. He called to make sure that you got back to Los Angeles and that everything was fine. It was actually kind of sweet. It was about sixteen hours after that, that you found yourself calling him after his first practice. One conversation rolled into the next and so on until you were talking at least twice a day. He talked about hockey and his life in Sweden as well as Vancouver, while you told him about LA and your job there. Family and friends were a topic that came up often, almost to a point that you felt as if his teammates were your friends as well. Sure, there were the occasional nights where phone sex ended up taking place, though you had to admit it was much better than some of the dates you’d gone on in the past. If one was on the outside looking in, they probably wouldn’t understand why you were actually going through with the divorce. That thought didn’t stop you from signing the documents and sending them back to Jacob though.

As the season started, Jacob still made time to talk to you every day. He even started to wonder if the circumstances had been different and the two of you had met in Vancouver or LA, would you be an actual couple at this point. He had to admit that your conversations were the highlight of his day. You were smart and funny with a wit about you that he enjoyed, and well to say that you were attractive was a complete understatement in his book. If Jacob was being honest with himself, you were his ideal woman.

Which is why when the divorce papers came in, almost a month after he met you, he simply threw them on his desk and vowed to take them to his attorney soon. Unfortunately, he forgot he had an extended road trip coming up, which made him forget about them completely. They only crossed his mind once while he was gone when you’d asked him if he got them. He tried to make a mental note to remember them when he got home, but not only did they slip his mind, but they also got buried in a mountain of mail on his desk.

The following week when he got home was a bit crazy. He missed a night in calling you when a game went into overtime. When he tried to the next day you didn’t answer. Jacob tried not to give it too much thought or take it personally, though his mind told him differently. He knew that you had a big ad campaign coming up and that work had started to consume your life. He just hoped it wasn’t with some hot male stripper or movie star.

When you didn’t answer the phone the following three days, Jacob started to believe that what the two of you had or were starting to have, never really existed. He had resigned himself that he’d probably never see or hear from you again. Oh, how he was wrong.

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