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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 9 months ago

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It's a Match! || 141 x Reader

[Chapter 16] || [Chapter 18]

Pairing: Gaz x Reader x Ghost x Soap || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.7K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we're getting there.

Gaz's outfit is 100% a rip off of this fanart by the lovely @temeyes.

Chapter 17: Guard Dogs

You don’t exactly know what you did to deserve this.

You really don’t.

You went on Tinder one time. One night after work.

So why the fuck do you have three men lurking around you like guard dogs?

Ever since the Ethan incident last Friday, they’ve been taking turns going to pick you up at work and walking you home.

Monday - Kyle

Tuesday - Simon

Wednesday - Kyle

Thursday - Simon

It wouldn’t be so bizarre if it weren’t for the fact that people (especially your coworkers) stare when there’s suddenly men waiting for you after work…

Especially when one of them is a 6ft4 man that’s built like a fridge, giving everyone copious amounts of side-eye as they walk out.

And then you wonder why they ask you get asked questions the next morning.

Today, Friday, you exit work to see not one, not two, but all three of them, standing shoulder-to-shoulder. They look frankly adorable, all beaming at you as you come out of work and preening themselves a bit.

Kyle’s on the far left, wearing a cream-colored hoodie with a blue flannel shirt atop, black cargo pants and white and black Air Jordans. The hoodie is pulled up over his hair and his hands are tucked into the pocket of his hoodie.

Simon’s next to him, in the center, wearing black boots, jeans and a black parka with an inner pollar layer that’s zipped up all the way, so as to cover his mouth, in lieu of his usual mask. His hair is sticking up all over and you just know he put hairgel on it.

Johnny’s on Simon’s other side, the far right, and wearing a pair of distressed blue jeans, a shaggy burgundy Ramones t-shirt and an unzipped grey hoodie jacket. Just like Kyle, he’s also wearing some Nikes and they’re so pristine and clean you’d swear he’s gotten them from the box a minute ago.

“Hi…?” You said in surprise as you adjusted the sling of your laptop bag on your shoulder.

“Hey!” Johnny greeted you.

“Hi, lovie.” Kyle said with a beaming smile.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Simon said simply and nodded upwards at you.

“What are you… doing?” You trailed off as you came to stand in front of them, your eyes going back and forth between them.

“Couldn’t decide who should come get you. So we decided to both come” Simon told you sincerely. “And since the two of us were coming, Johnny wanted to tag along.” He added.

“Why are ye talking like I’m a puppy that couldn’t be left at home by myself?” Johnny said with raised brows.

“Because you were begging for us to take you with.” Kyle retorted from Simon’s other side.

“Go fuck yourselves.” Johnny added. “You look nice.” He complimented you with a boyish grin.

“In my work uniform?” You retorted as you looked at him with a playful look of disbelief.

“Aye.” He replied. “Always love seein’ someone all knackered and sweaty after work.” He admitted.

“Johnny are you flirting?” Simon asked and he gave Johnny a look that could kill someone.

“Aye.” Johnny replied with a mischievous look in his eyes and pursed his lips together. “Is that forbidden now?”

“Mate…” Kyle quipped, his tone a soft warning.

“What? They already got two blokes after them, can have another one.” Johnny remarked with the same casualty of someone saying they ‘might as well have another biscuit from the box’.

You blinked away the surprise at the flirting. It was still bizarre to have one man like Simon interested… And you felt overwhelmed to have Kyle on top of it… And now Johnny too?

“Okay, erm… So… let’s go?” You announced and turned to start marching up the street to work before anyone could say anything else.

The guys followed behind you wordlessly, in a formation lead by Simon… like you were a mother duck and they were your ducklings… Or, rather, like they were your pack of guar dogs.

You’re standing by the door of your kitchen feeling like a guest in your own flat.

Kyle and Simon are cooking… without even being asked. You stopped by the shop and they immediately announced they’d cook for you and… now they are.

Johnny’s sitting at the dining table behind you, sprawled open and sipping a can of Monster he got himself at the shop when you were all there.

“Okay, what’s up with you?” You announced as you watched the two men move about your kitchen as they made your meal. Simon’s was first in charge of chopping and dicing things… and now he’s in charge of frying… something, while Kyle takes care of basically everything else.

“What do you mean, lovie?” Kyle asks as he turns to glance at you while stirring something.

“You all came to pick me up together… And now you’re cooking for me…” You trail off as your nails clink a bit against the glass of wine they poured you. “What’s going on?”

“You’re adorably annoying with how perceptive you are, you know that?” Simon asks as he glances back at you as well before plucking something out of the frying pan and to a dish on the side. The oil sizzles loudly when he puts something else down to fry.

“Thank you.” You say with a playfully smug tone as you shift around. “But you didn’t answer the question.” You remark.

“After dinner, alright?” He answers and Kyle makes some sounds of agreement.

“They want to be yer boyfriends, officially.” Johnny says behind you and it causes you to whip around to look at him… Which also made Kyle drop whatever he was holding, in shock.

“SOAP!” Both Simon and Kyle shout, scolding the Scot who’s sitting at the table with a broad grin on his lips.

“You… You do?” You ask as you turn to look at them, mouth parted in surprise.

“Yeah...” Kyle replies as he looks at you.

Simon simply nods and turns away to focus on the food he’s frying.

“I… I’m honored…” You admit and feel your cheeks warming up so bright you fear you’ll start sweating. “I…”

“I’d like a shot at it too, if ye don’t mind.” Johnny adds. Once again, all eyes turn to Johnny with another ‘JOHNNY?!’ which causes him to laugh.

“I’m serious.” He replies. “I’ll gladly date ye too.” He adds.

Your eyes widen. “You-”

“Mhm.” He adds.

“No.” Simon replies as he turns around once more.

“What do you mean ‘no’, L.T.?” Johnny asks in exaggerated offense.

“I mean, I don’t wanna date you.” Simon adds.

“I- Wait.” Now it’s Johnny’s time to get flustered. “Date me?” Poor lad, his whole face warms up bright red.

“Y-Yeah… Kyle and Simon kiss each other sometimes.” You announce and out of the corner of your eye you catch both of the other men stiffening up.

“I KNEW IT. I FOOKIN’ KNEW IT!” Johnny jumps up to his feet, spilling his Monster can on the table. “Ah, shite!” He says as he scrambles to pick it up again before it spills too much.

“What do you mean you knew it?!” Simon asks in shock.

“I KEN YE LIKE EACH OTHER! SAW THE WAY YOU SHARE THOSE COY LOOKS BETWEEN YE!!” Johnny shouts as he points a finger at the two men.

You’re pretty sure they’re all blushing now, you included.

“We didn’t share any looks!” Simon says defensively.

“DID TOO!” Johnny insists. “AND I TAKE OFFENSE TO YE NOT WANTING TO DATE ME, L.T.!” He adds. “I THOUGHT YE LIKED ME!”

Your eyes widen and you move your head side to side trying to keep up with the banter between them as Johnny marches his way into the kitchen so him and Simon can keep bickering.

“Are they always like this?” You find yourself asking Kyle, your eyes widened as they shout your house down.

“Yeah… This is a tame day for them actually. Should hear how they are on comms during missions.” He leans over to whisper in your ear.

“Ah…” You say softly. “I don’t know if I can handle dating this all the time.” You quip playfully, making Kyle laugh.

“You’ll get used to it.” He adds.

As you two continue watching the two men arguing, during which Simon is still, somehow, still tending to the food… You find yourself sneaking little pieces of carrot from the salad Kyle’s making.

Only to stop chewing halfway and let your piece of carrot fall right out of your hands when Johnny suddenly grabs Simon by his face and plants a big kiss right on the taller man’s lips. No warning.

At that moment, Simon looks every bit like Kyle did when they kissed for the first time. Perfectly statue-like still, eyes widened, both hands hanging in the air as if he was frozen…

Johnny’s hands are wrapped around Simon’s face, his palms over his ears, and fingers in his blonde hair, their mouths pressed together…

And then Simon comes back from the trance he’s in and his hands wrap around Johnny’s head too, his fingers digging into the back of his mohawk as their tongues battle together.

“Jesus Christ…” Kyle replies next to you, voicing your exact thoughts.

Once they pull apart, both the men are blushing red and out of breath, eyes widened.

“Ye’ll date me now?” Johnny replies.

Simon doesn’t reply, he simply turns around to finish cooking.

“I think that’s a yes.” You finally announce, finding your voice softly.

Johnny turns to look at you and smirks. “From him or from you?” He asks with a cocked brow.

“Both.” Simon quips with his back turned.

“I think that was the hottest kiss I ever witnessed.” Kyle says softly.

“I’ll give ye a smooch too, don’t get jealous, Gary.” Johnny quips and winks at Kyle.

Then, the Scot grabs a paper towel from the roll and walks toward the door to go mop up the spilled Monster from the table.

But not before he cups Kyle’s face and stealing a peck off his lips…

Then, he does the same to you… before licking his lips at the end.

“Your wine’s tasty.” He adds, before slinking back out of the room.

You’re left blinking away the shock with an equally stunned Kyle next to you… And you’re pretty sure Simon’s stunned too…

Meanwhile, Johnny’s giggling to himself in the living room.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):

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@severenswife , @enarien, @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear , @mynameismisty , @reap3erslov3 , @reaper-chan666 , @poohkie90 , @kitwithnokat , @stick-the-dumbass , @mothsdrabbles , @justanerd1 , @thesinsoflust , @thriving-n-jiving , @blckbrrybasket

#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic #cod modern warfare #cod fanfic #captain john price #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #text story #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #soap x reader #ghoap #gazsoap #ghostgaz

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writingdumpster · 1 year ago

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secret wife

pairing: Bob Floyd x fem!reader

warnings: none, all fluff

summary: When you go to pick up Bob at the base the dagger squad finds out that Bob's been keeping a wife from them.

word count: 1k

A/N: Thanks for 3k followers!

Bob pulled his phone out of his locker as the guys all piled into the locker room behind him. There was a text from you awaiting Bob.

I’m waiting in the lobby for you. Don’t take too long. xoxo

“Did you guys see the hot girl in the lobby?” Coyote asked as he walked into the locker room. Bob smirked to himself as he started to take off his flight suit.

“Who do you think she is?” Fanboy pondered.

“I was gonna find out after we got changed,” Rooster said.

“Don’t bother. Bet she’s a recruit’s girlfriend,” Payback suggested.

“Who do you think?” Asked Hangman.

“I don’t know,” Payback responded. “But I know what a woman in love looks like.”

“I don’t believe that,” Hangman teased Payback.

“I’m married,” Payback pointed out.

“So you tell us, but we’ve never seen your wife,” Rooster taunted.

“Her picture is on my dash,” Payback said.

“Could be anyone,” Fanboy joined in.

“You’ve met her, Fanboy,” Payback said.

“You can’t prove anything,” Fanboy teased. Bob was quietly enjoying the conversation as he grabbed the rest of his things. He slipped his bag over his shoulders and closed his locker.

“See y’all tomorrow,” Bob said as he headed out to meet you in the lobby. When he rounded the corner his smile widened as you stood to greet him. You were wearing paint stained jeans and an old t-shirt that used to be Bob’s, but it had been years since that was true. It was yours now, just like he was.

“You changed out of the flight suit,” you said forlornly when Bob walked up.

“It was all sweaty, angel,” Bob told you.

“I wanted to take it off you though,” you whined. Bob gave you a cheeky grin.

“You want me to put on the white uniform when I get home?” Bob offered. He leaned down and kissed you tenderly before you could answer.

“The hot girl is your girlfriend?” Hangman practically shouted from behind Bob. He turned over his shoulder to see the whole squad watching the two of you.

“Wife, actually,” Bob said. “Been meaning to introduce ya.”

“You didn’t say you have a wife!” Phoenix exclaimed.

“Didn’t come up,” Bob said. “We’ve only known each other for a month.” Everyone gawked at Bob, thinking a month was plenty of time to let your friends know you have a wife.

“He likes to keep me protected from his work,” you piped in when Bob failed to explain himself. Bob wound his fingers between yours. He lifted your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

“What’s your name?” Phoenix asked.

“Y/N,” you told her.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Phoenix murmured. You could hear in her voice that she felt betrayed by Bob. You knew he wouldn’t notice though. You wanted to stop him from hurting her more.

“I keep my ring on my dog tags,” Bob said, pulling them up from his shirt to prove it.

“I thought it was your dad’s,” Phoenix told him. “You always talk about him.”

“Bobby’s told me a lot about you,” you interjected. “I was hoping you would have dinner with us. I’d like to make the pilot who saved my Bobby a good meal.” Phoenix met your eye and you gave her a warm smile. She gave a tiny nod and smiled back.

“I’d love to, ma’am,” Phoenix said.

“I’m her wingman,” Rooster called. “Could say that I kept Bobby safe too.” Bob blushed brightly.

“Payback and I were on the mission,” Fanboy said.

“I saved Bob’s wingman,” Hangman added. You looked up at Bob in question.

“They know you’re the one who makes my lunches now,” Bob said. You giggled. You always made Bob his lunches. When he was deployed he didn’t get good home cooked meals, so you made sure he had them three times a day when he was home with you.

“Well, some of you might have to sit on the couch, but I’d be happy to cook for my husband’s friends,” you said.

“I can’t believe that baby on board has a wife and you don’t even have a girlfriend,” Hangman teased Rooster.

“You don’t either,” Rooster spit back.

“No woman can hold me down,” Hangman joked.

“He’s the one your sister would like, right?” You asked, trying to keep your voice quiet.

“You’ve got a sister?” Hangman called out.

“Yeah,” Bob said. “And I’m quite sure she could hold you down if she wanted.” Hangman’s eyes widened. You chuckled.

“You’re going to set him up with your sister?” Rooster complained.

“That’s y/n’s scheme. She wants my sister to live near us,” Bob explained.

“She’s funnier than you, Bobby,” you said.

“You do spend a lot of time laughing at me together,” Bob teased. He didn’t really mind though. Everytime he had come home to find you and his sister in tears from laughing so hard it had made him even more sure that he’d chosen the right person to marry.

“Well, when do I get to meet her?” Hangman asked, a wide smirk on his face.

“I’ll have her come over for dinner with all of you,” you said. “Next Sunday at 6:00. Don’t be late,” you told them. Then you tugged on Bob’s hand, signaling you wanted to go home.

“Bye, guys,” Bob said. “See ya in the morning.” With that he slung his arm around your shoulders and led you out of the base.

“I can’t believe Bob didn’t tell us he has a wife,” Payback muttered.

“I can’t believe Hangman’s the first choice for his sister,” Fanboy said.

“Why not? You think Bob wants to be related to any of you?” Hangman asked proudly. Rooster snorted.

“Yes. I would have thought he’d want any of us before you.”

A/N: There is a part two of the dinner now available

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fluff #top gun x reader #dagger squad x reader #bob floyd x reader fluff #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun maverick x reader

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4unnyr0se · 4 months ago

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❥ messin' with the pretty setter squad | toru oikawa & tobio kageyama

warnings: timeskip! characters, fem! reader, jealously, marking, breeding, doggy, missionary, soft! oikawa

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 650

a/n: okay so the first time i posted this it got flagged so it better work this time...also lmk if i should do more pretty setters or other chars!

Toru Oikawa

Toru fucks you like he’s trying to prove a point. Not to anyone else, but rather to you and himself. He wants to prove to himself that he’s the only one who can make you feel like you’re floating on a cloud whenever you fuck, whenever his head is buried in your neck, whispering sweet nothings as his cock gently moves in and out of you. Whatever you want, he’ll give it to you. You’re his perfect little princess, his one and only. Sometimes, you get jealous that he’s a player and shamelessly flirts with his fangirls after his games. Sure, it’s just for appearances, but you doubt that sometimes. So he fucks you like he’s yours because he is yours. His soft hands trace up and down your sweaty, naked body as his cock thrusts in and out of you so gently, like you’re made of glass. His lips are bruising, yet they’re so delicate and soft, complimented by coconut-flavored chapstick. He leaves bruises on your neck and stomach as reminders that you’re his, and he is yours. Toru welcomes your markings, especially when your nails claw on his toned back as he fucks you just the way you want him to. He relishes in your candied cries of pleasure as your second orgasm of the night washes over you, knowing that he’s the only one who can make you feel that way.

“Shh, eyes on me, baby,” Toru peels his head from your bruised neck, grasping your jaw as his milky brown eyes bore into yours. His hips roll against yours so expertly, his cock hitting the most sensitive part inside of your aching core over and over again. “Look at me. Look at who’s making you feel so good.” he hisses as your pussy clenches around him, trying to drag him impossibly deeper inside. “Fuck, you like that? Yeah, yeah, you do. You’re my girl, princess. Are you gonna cum again, baby? Oh, fuck, that’s it, cum for me again. Good fucking girl. My fucking girl.”

Tobio Kageyama

Tobio fucks you like he’s angry. Not angry with you, no. He loves you too much to be angry with you. In his gunmetal eyes, you’re perfect. What he’s angry about is other men. Other men shamelessly hit on the setter’s well-known girlfriend because they’re bored, or maybe their management tells them to create drama to cause a scandal and sell more game tickets. He fucks you because he’s angry at other people for flirting with you, flirting with his girl. So he fucks you from behind, with your hands desperately clawing at the silken sheets as his fat cock bullies its way in and out of your pussy until it’s painful, but he doesn’t care. You like the pain, don’t you, sweetie? You like when he slaps your ass until there’s a handprint, treating it like a volleyball he’s serving. You like arching your back so perfectly for him as he fucks your brains out because he’s angry, and you like it. Normally he’s so sweet and awkward with you, but not when he’s jealous. Not when someone doubts for even a second that he isn’t making you feel so fucking good every single day.

“You fucking belong to me,” Tobio grunts as he forces an orgasm out of you, slapping your ass and then quickly massaging the stinging flesh. Your thighs are trembling from the assault of pleasure resonating in your core, your stomach feeling full as his cock fucks in and out of your cunt relentlessly. “You’re fucking mine, you understand that? Those assholes think they can get with you? Fat fucking chance.” Oh, how he adores your precious little cries as his cock presses against your cervix, throbbing as he feels his release coming on. “Gonna cum inside, yeah? Fill you up nice and good so those fuckers know who you belong to, baby.”

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#tobio kageyama x reader #kageyama x reader #kageyama smut #kageyama tobio #kageyama x reader smut #oikawa x reader #oikawa smut #toru oikawa smut #haikyuu oikawa #timeskip oikawa #timeskip kageyama

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slater-baby · 6 months ago

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i keep thinking how funny it’d be to be working out or training with ghost and just staring at his chest (cause it’s right there) and being convinced that his chest is bigger than yours

I know you probably thought of this as a cute scenario but........this turned out super horny alkjdflkjaf I apologize profusely

Tags: Simon Riley x f!reader, ogling, suggestive comments (without explicit consent), elements of hypermasculinity, flirting, semi-public fingering, Simon and Reader are both perverts

*DESCRIPTION HEAVY*

Word count: 6k

Sweat trailed down your forehead, the small droplets falling from your nose with every thrust of the barbell. You grunt as you shove your hips up, feeling the strain up the back of your legs, and with a final, triumphant noise, you drop the weight back to the floor. With one shaking hand, you wipe your face from your forehead to your neck, grimacing when you see the darkened spots on your sports bra.

Fuck, you pant, lifting your arms, How was it even possible for an armpit to sweat this much?

Lazily, you roll your eyes, shimmying out from under the bar. You go through the motions, re-racking each plate while taking leisurely sips from your bottle. However, just when you begin wiping down your bench, a hand slaps you on the back nearly hard enough to send you face-planting into the leather.

“Soap—” you grunt, pawing at your back like an idiot when you turn to face the man, “What was that—”

“Nothin’, Lass,” he chuckles, sidestepping your attempted swat to reach for the dumbbells, “Just wanted to say that was some good shit there,” he points towards where you were sitting just minutes earlier, “New PR, was it?”

“Not really,” you pant, “But it’s better than last week.”

Before Soap can even answer, you spin dazedly in the mirror, groaning when you see the wet palm print he left against the back of your bra. In the reflection, you can see Johnny’s face contort into a snort when he sees it, too. You send him a deadpan look just for that.

Ugh, you shudder, grimacing at the feeling of Soap’s sweat against your back, Even if I sweat like a pig, at least I don’t sweat like these boys…

Just to make yourself feel better about your soaked bra and leggings, you spare a glance at Kyle and Johnny, both of whom are flexing in the mirror between camera flashes, veiny arms shaking with the strain it takes to get the perfect Instagram story. However, judging by the way they hunch over the phone like a pair of pouting little boys between each photo, it’s not going too well.

“God,” you say, loud enough for Soap to hear, “If you’re gonna sweat that much, can you at least contain it to your side of the gym? I’m just an innocent bystander…”

“Dinnae mean to catch you in the crossfire, lass,” Soap turns then, hands on his hips. His tank top—ripped from beneath his arms to his waistline—is plastered to his chest and practically see through. His mohawk is limp against his scalp, idly dripping sweat into his eyelashes. And even Kyle, who had the sense to take his shirt off before the temperature reached sweltering levels, was still flushing with heat from the doglegs around his neck to the old sneakers on his feet.

Compared to them, you look like you’d taken a short walk in the rain. The two of them might as well pass themselves off as wet dogs.

“Just tryna tell you m’proud of you,” he stares down at you from beneath a curtain of sweaty eyelashes, “What? That illegal or something?”

You scoff with a smirk, shoving him away before his muscular arms can envelop you in a sweat-slick hug.

“It is from you, MacTavish,” you giggle, swiping your water bottle off of the bench, “You just wanna cop a handful.”

“What?” Soap calls after you as you walk back towards the benches, “Just sayin’, Lassie…keep liftin’ like that ’n you’ll have the best arse on the squad…”

With every step you take, you swear that you can feel Soap’s eyes glued onto your swaying hips and ass, looking his eyeful and then some. You can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.

Fuckin’ dog, you laugh in your head.

“Yeah, and you’d just love that, wouldn’t you, Soap?” You fire back.

“Whatever,” the scot yells back, shaking his head as he pulls a dumbbell off the rack, “You basterds just don’t appreciate my expertise…”

“Your expertise?” You laugh, turning on your heel just to send Johnny a suggestive waggle of your eyebrows.

“Careful, Lassie,” Soap quirks his head while he curls the dumbbells, winking at you in the reflection as another drop of sweat crests the edge of his hairline, “Or ye just might get what yer askin’ for.”

“Soap,” you fake a gag, “How many times do I have to say ‘I love you like a brother’ before you stop hitting on me?”

“Brother,” he grunts with another curl, “Or step-brother?”

At that, your jaw drops, and you don’t miss the way Kyle’s eyes go wide the next time he hits the flash. When he turns to Soap, he’s got a hand clapped over his mouth, stifling howling laughter. If you weren’t so shocked, you might have been laughing just as hard.

“Neither,” you grimace, shaking your head, “God, Soap…you’re disgusting.”

“Tell that to the girl I had last night,” he chuckles, laughter transforming into a low groan with another rep. Instantly, a small chorus of joking gags resounds around your small group, the loudest of all being Gaz, who ambles over to Soap with his hands on his hips.

“Trust me,” Kyle shakes his head, “I fuckin’ heard. Wouldn’t be surprised if the entire barracks could hear it last night,” he snags his shirt off of the bench, walking behind Soap to whip the fabric across his back like a horse crop. Soap shocks forward at the feeling of it, nearly dropping his weight in the process. While you hide your giggles behind your hand, Johnny only frowns into the streaky mirror.

“Wasn’t that loud…” he pouts. His voice is much lower than before.

“‘Wasn’t that loud?’” Gaz deadpans, “It was bouncin’ off the fucking walls, mate—and you were moanin’ louder than she was!!”

Instantly, laughter overcomes every gym goer within earshot, and instantly, Johnny has to drop his dumbbells just to process what Kyle had just said to him. You would have noticed the cold shadow enveloping you from behind if you weren’t so busy wheezing at the look on Johnny’s face.

“Ay—you lot quiet down,” Ghost barks from his position behind you, “Can barely hear my own fuckin’ thoughts.”

“Yeah,” Gaz smirks, “That’s about how loud it was last night.”

“Now yer just takin’ the piss, Gaz,” Soap gripes loudly.

“Soap,” Ghost barks, instantly shutting down the conversation, “Stop exposing your porn history in the gym. Swear to god,” he shakes his head, “Everything I fuckin’ know about you’s been against my will.”

“Hate me that much, sir?” Soap grunts.

“Depends,” Ghost cocks his head, steely eyes pointed resolutely at Soap, “How badly do you wanna get written up, sergeant?”

Idly, you purse your lips, watching the drama unfold with nothing more than a bat of your sweat-slick eyelashes. For a moment, the silence continues, a simmering tension filling the air between the two officers. Weirdly, you can’t help but think that it’s something of a bastardized stand-off—like two bulls locking horns in a stalemate. However, as much as you love Soap, you had to admit he was barking up the wrong tree. Beneath the towering lieutenant, Soap looked more like a fledgling puppy than the grisly wolf he hoped he was, and unfortunately for him, the Alpha male didn’t have a problem with biting though a few throats just to get a couple minutes of peace and quiet.

At the mental image, you snort.

Men, you muse, craning your neck to look at where Ghost stands behind you, Always manage to turn everything into a pissing contest.

“No, sir, LT,” Soap submits, voice lowering.

“Good,” Ghost sighs behind you, ambling back towards the machine he’d been working on, “Too hot for this shite anyway…”

With that, the four of you ease back into a comfortable silence, nothing more than the ambient music and the clacking of steel to fill the air. Soap continues with his set, Kyle fiddles with his earbuds, and Ghost hunkers back down on his bench. Your eyebrows raise when you hear how the leather squeaks under his weight.

God, you muse, inconspicuously watching him crack his neck, Just how big was that man?

You’d been in the 141 for a few years now, but even so, the initial officers’ meeting was anything but a forgotten memory. That day, you’d been sitting in the conference room waiting for your contract offer, sweating under the collar of your pressed uniform, leg bouncing so violently that you were sure your kneecap would be swollen by the end of it.

You’d been expecting some white-haired officer to meet you in the conference room. That, or some young secretary whose whole job was to send emails and peruse their Amazon shopping cart when they were on the clock. However, when two thirty-something, dressed down operators walked into the room—t-shirts clinging to their swollen biceps like they’d just walked off the cover of a magazine—it was safe to say you were entirely speechless.

You’d shaken their hands with clammy palms, practically trembling beneath their steely gazes and baritone voices. Price—whose mustache you were silently marveling at the entire meeting—eased your nerves without breaking a sweat. Naturally homely and charming, it wasn’t long before your jitters disappeared around him altogether.

However, the man at his side, darkened eyes hidden within the shadows of a skull mask, had had your nerves singing like a church choir for months on end.

For the first few days, you’d almost thought it was coincidence, the way he’d show up around every corner and turn, barricading your path with his barrel chest and veiny arms. The first time you’d ran into him in the hallway, you’d practically whimpered when you nearly ran into the broad expanse of his shoulders, barely able to muster a stuttered apology before you were running off, hiding behind your manila files just so you wouldn’t have to stare into those alarmingly pretty eyes any longer.

How was it fair, you’d lamented the first time you ran into him, That a guy who was as scary as that had eyes the color of a sparkling ocean?

It just didn’t make any sense. And for weeks, you’d walked the halls in constant fear of both his attention and his praise, shrinking into your uniform any time he so much as looked in your direction. Perhaps it was a fawn response (it had to be), but something inside of you heart yearned for his wordless stares and rejected them all the same, like a seed that your body just refused to take.

It was only after he’d cornered you one day that your ill-fated game of hide and seek had come screeching to a halt.

You’d been exiting the conference room, trying to hustle back to the barracks before Ghost could catch the timid expression on your face, only for the door to slam shut in front of you before you could even reach the handle. Ghost had stepped in front of you, cocking his head in a gesture that was so backbreaking you actually released a small squeak at the sight of him in front of you.

“Um—LT?” You’d asked him, voice barely audible.

“Are you scared of me?”

Dumbly, you’d blinked blankly, staring at his collarbones like the answer to all of your problems could be found therein (because you still couldn’t look him in the eye without feeling like your entire skeleton was shuddering in terror at the sensation). And as you stood there, biting your lip nearly hard enough to draw blood, you’d only had the brain power to dazedly admit that he had beautiful collarbones.

They peeked out from beneath the collar of his shirt, the fabric wrinkled in the middle of the chest from the wrought plains of muscle across his torso. In the center, the hem of the collar dipped from the strain of his muscle mass on the shirt, and just underneath the glinting metal of his dog tags, you could see the defined lines of his collarbones—skin smooth and scarred, shining with a few droplets of dew.

Idly, you’d imagined that’s where he sprayed his cologne when he got ready in the morning, and yet, standing so close to him like this, the notes of his scent were delightfully complex. From the acrid, lingering traces of tobacco, to the clean smell of his shampoo, only the barest hint of fragrance remained, buried beneath the heady musk and sweat of a man on the job.

It was something icy, virile, and so, so dreadfully intoxicating.

Seconds had passed. He’d cleared his throat. But with your head spinning, lost in the daze of his misplaced male pride, there was only one thought that crossed your mind: He’s wearing Polo Black. Definitely.

Needless to say, when you’d finally managed to find your words, he had been woefully unimpressed.

“What…?” You’d mustered, unblinking.

“Are you scared of me or something? It seems like every time I need to talk to you you go scurrying off somewhere. So tell me, sergeant, you got a problem or something?” He’d pressed, unconsciously crossing his arms.

And after that, his words might as well have gone in one ear and straight out the other, because your attention was focused anywhere but on his moving mouth. No, your eyes were centered straight on where the edge of his wrist bones cut into the plush muscle of his pecs. The indents they made were looked soft to the touch, like a cushion just waiting to be squeezed. And while his voice slowly transformed into TV static inside of your mind, yet another unwitting thought went speeding through your brain.

I wouldn’t mind using him as a pillow, your mind croons, practically batting your lashes.

And eventually, when the pillowy surface of his chest had been adequately committed to your memory, your eyes had fallen to his arms.

God, his biceps.

You could have started purring just at the sight of them. Throughout your enlistment, you’d been surrounded by no shortage of well-built men. If anything, there was an overabundance of them. The boys practically grew on trees at this point, and once you’d grown out of basic, you’d quickly stopped fawning over veiny forearms and bulging muscles.

Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate, per se. On one hand, the majority of the men you worked with looked like they could pick up a car barehanded, and once everyone achieved that feat, it therefore ceased to be one altogether. And yet…there was something about how soft hard earned muscle became when it was bare and flushed, when it was sweaty and panting, whispering low words in your ears between each and every thrust.

Absently, you’d felt heat climb into your cheeks, heart beat racing.

Maybe it was the fact that you’d just taken this position—a position on a squad that had never had a female recruit until you came around—that you feel this way. Between the missions, the training, the briefs, paperwork and coffee runs, there wasn’t much to do aside from collapse into your bunk and wait for morning to come. The walls were thin and privacy was scarce. Hell, with the lack of estrogen on base, the female locker rooms and showers were decidedly cramped, and the only “personal time” you’d been able to snag had been in a bathroom stall with the gusset of your training suit pulled to the side.

Yeah.

Maybe that was it.

Maybe that’s why you could practically imagine it, the slick swipe of his skin over yours, fingers tracing each and every vein of those mysterious tattoos, while he put those sweat-slick muscles to work in between your spread thighs.

His voice would be raspy and deep, low and barely noticeable. But maybe if you hooked your legs around his waist, maybe if you managed to look him in the eye for once, he’d all but crumble inside of your embrace. Warm skin, beating heart, darkened eyes—everything. As much as they terrified you, you couldn’t stop yourself from imagining them in a different light—a light in which they were wholly and utterly yours. That skin, bare and shining, from his thick neck to those criminally slim hips, moving against your own. That pulse racing against your chest, hitching with every move of his pelvis. And those eyes, locked onto your bouncing tits and burning flesh, lost in just as much of a trance as you found yourself in right now.

Does he drink protein powder?

You couldn’t help but wonder. After all, how did someone get that big unless they were packing on protein like it was going out of fashion? He must eat like a horse. A very big, very muscle-y, very well endowed—

“Sergeant? Are you listening?” His voice had shocked you out of your reverie, and your head had begun to spin when your feet finally hit the ground.

“Um—yes?” You’d asked him, inconspicuously shifting on your feet to ease the wet ache between your thighs.

“So what is it then?” He’d huffed, voice stiff—almost as if he were pouting, “Is there a problem or no?”

“There’s…” you take a deep breath, swallowing as you tried valiantly to stop your eyes from slipping back onto his covetable muscles, “There’s no—no problem.”

“So,” he’d shook his head, almost as if he was perplexed by your answer, “There’s no problem? None at all?”

He’d leaned down then, looking at you with all the blue eyes and wispy blonde lashed your midnight fantasies ever could have conjured. Truthfully, you can’t be blamed for the tiny squeak you’d released when it’d happened.

“Nope,” you’d answered dumbly, looking over his shoulder just so you wouldn’t stare down his shirt instead.

“Good,” he’d stepped back, pulling open the door, “Then I’ll see you for tea tomorrow morning?”

“Tea?” You’d blanked.

“Yeah…” he’d scrunched his brows so hard you could see it even beneath the mask, “It’s just…” he'd pursed his lips, and his pupils had dragged over you from head to toe, lingering just a little too long on where the buttons of your shirt stretch around your bra, “Figured you and I should get to know each other. One on one. Just to communicate effectively in the workplace, y'know?”

“Oh—” you’d faked understanding, nodding your head like it’d do something, “Oh, yeah, definitely. See you tomorrow morning then.”

“See ‘ya.”

And when the door had slowly closed behind him, you would be lying if your stare didn’t drop straight to his backside as he walked away. Deadpan, you’d leant up against the wall, rubbing your thighs together to gauge how wet your panties were.

Fuck.

Of course he had to have a nice ass, too.

And like that, you find yourself staring into space once more, unconsciously lifting your water bottle to your lips like you hadn’t drank the last few drops ten minutes ago. When a low noise emits to your left, however, you finally find the sense of mind to ground yourself, looking down at yourself in a daze.

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath, eyeing the glistening spots of sweat underneath your arms. Idly, you walk over towards the weight rack, snagging your towel off it to wipe over your face.

God, the boys might be going stir crazy without any recent assignments, but they were definitely right about one thing: it was dreadfully hot in here. The air conditioner on base always got a bit finicky around the summer months, but it’d never been this bad before. Maybe all those years of strain had finally taken their toll. You sigh as you rub the towel against your hands, lifting it to your face next to wash the sweat out of your eyelashes.

However, the second your vision is covered, another low noise bellows from the side.

“Fuck, it’s too goddamn hot in here.”

You drop the towel.

You nearly go blind with what you see next.

Ghost, chest rising and falling with every harsh pant he makes, pants dangerously low around his hips and shirt curled around two of his fingers, just barely exposing a pair of defined hipbones that disappear into the waistband of his joggers. Without even noticing, saliva begins to collect on your tongue, especially when you spot the blonde trail of hair that sinks into the hem of his trousers.

Fuck, you curse without thinking, eyes unwittingly drawn to the spectacle when he yanks his T-shirt over his head.

And within an instant, it’s revealed to you.

The promised land, you’re sure.

Because his chest is just as soft and plush as you thought it would be, all but dripping with sweat, and when a single droplet makes it down the valley of his pecs, leaving slick lines all the way down the velvety expanse of his abs, you would be lying if you said your mouth wasn’t going dry.

Without even blinking, you clumsily raise your water bottle to your lips, trying desperately to summon even a single ounce of liquid to cure the blazing heat that overcomes your body at the sight of him.

With another crack of his neck, Simon sits back down on the bench, leaning comfortably into the backrest. And when he sits down—a tiny grunt emitting from his covered mouth—any hope of hiding your shock is erased within a single second. Because, just like any other man, he spreads his legs around the leather, giving you an uninterrupted view of the heavy bulge between his thighs.

Unconsciously, you drop your bottle, unable to tear you eyes away—especially when he reaches for his waistband to readjust it.

His stomach flexes as he straightens up, the veins in his biceps and hands shifting as he carefully shuffles the band down a bit further around his hips, exposing the black, sweat-drenched boxer band beneath his pants. He sighs, and the fabric snaps back to his body. But when he reaches between his legs to pick up the first dumbbell, the side of his palm just barely brushes over the front of his pants.

You bite through the skin on your lips, crossing your arms to watch as he heaves two gigantic dumbbells into his arms. He lifts them like they’re nothing more than paperweights, something he could throw around without even breaking a sweat.

But that’s not the whole truth of it. It’s not. Because he is breaking a sweat. And, god, if he didn’t look good coated in a glistening layer of it, smelling like every bit of the hardworking man that he was.

Dazed, you lean to place your hand on the rack, having to steady yourself on your feet when you miss it on the first try. You watch as he shifts into an incline chest press.

With every push of the weight, the muscles of his chest jump and twitch, flexing with the practiced motion, like the rippling waves on an icy sea.

Up and down.

The dumbbells are so big they nearly overshadow the length of his forearms in their entirety. But, somehow, you find another way to get your fill.

His stomach.

His happy trail.

His hips, biceps, and pecs.

Fuck.

His chest is heaving with every thrust now, hips jumping against the seat—all too similar to how you imagine he looks when he’s laid up in the barracks, hand beneath his waistband, chasing a high that even the gym couldn’t gratify.

And, god, that opens a whole new can of worms, one that your mind doesn’t hesitate to run free with.

What did Ghost look like when he touched himself?

You bite your lip, vision blurring.

He’d look just like he does on the bench, the lines of his abs disappearing and reappearing with every gasping breath. Small groans—not unlike the raspy moans that escape his mouth on the next rep—muffled under his mask while he looked at what he was doing to himself, at how his body was reacting to his own stimuli.

And in your heart—in the very depths of your soul—you just know that it’s big. The bulge between his legs didn’t hide any secrets, and when his thighs jump at the strain, you swear you can see the way his flesh moves beneath the shoddy fabric.

For possibly the hundredth time in the past minute alone, your eyes drag down the blonde hair on his stomach. Down, down, down. All the way down to where it leads into his boxer band, just barely out of view.

It’s matted to his stomach with sweat, shiny and golden. And yet, your mind doesn’t fail to twist even that mundane detail into something else entirely.

What did it look like when he was stroking himself, body heaving with pent up energy and testosterone, precum leaking down onto his swollen balls, signaling his impending release?

What did it look like when he finally got there, abs clenched in an unforgiving knot when he finally spilled over his own two hands, the droplets sticking to his sweaty chest and thighs?

What did it look like flecked with his own semen, his gruff moans the crescendo of the scene?

God, you lament, feeling yourself begin to leak in your panties. You should look away. You should gather your things and head back into the locker room. You should go back to your room and dig that dildo out of your pack, if only so that you could stop yourself from having such indecent thoughts about a close friend—one who just so happened to be your CO, as well.

However, when Simon drops the weight with a heavy clunk, sitting up against the bench, any thought of looking away goes flying out your mind.

Because then, his sore chest is exposed to you in all of its glistening glory. The muscles are pumped and flush with heat, reddened against the pale set of his skin tone from the exertion. Sparse hair—so blonde you would have seen right through it—decorates his skin, thinning into a small trail that leads from his sternum all the way down to his pants.

But what steals the show is the way they flex when he sits up, the way they squish between his arms when he picks up his water bottle once more. Not for the first time, you find yourself wondering just how soft they really are. If you pressed your fingers into them, would there be indents left? Would his skin carry the memory of your touch for even a single fleeting second?

It’s a heady thought, one that’s only made worse when he begins to drink from the water bottle, a small cascade of water mixing with the sweat on his chest.

Fuck, you think, looking down at your breasts. You looked good in this bra—Soap definitely had no problem telling you that—and for all intents and purposes, you had no reason to be dissatisfied with your own chest before.

But looking at Ghost like that, body swollen from adrenaline and exhaustion, the jokes just make themselves.

Fuck, you laugh in your mind, He’d probably need a bigger bra than me.

Forget about asses, Ghost might have the best rack on the team.

Somehow, you hope he realizes that. Lost in the color of his skin and sweat, you forget yourself, oblivious to everything aside from the slick collecting in your panties and the delicious redness on his pale skin.

That is, until his voice calls out for you gently—almost as if he didn’t want the others to hear.

“You good, sergeant?” He asks softly, cocking his head, “Looked like something caught your eye there for a minute…”

Instantly, your stomach drops and you fumble with your water bottle. You look down at the floor, trying to ignore the way your cunt clenches in between your legs.

“No, it’s—it’s nothing, LT,” you reply, shaking your head, “Just…at the rate you’re going, you’ll have the biggest boobs on the team soon.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles, but the smile he wears isn’t joking. No, it’s…insistent. Impatient. Teasing, “Worried I’ll take you out of first place?”

“Honestly?” This time, you purposefully look him over, heat rushing through your cheeks, “I think you’re running a close second. But don’t worry, LT,” you joke, smiling, “I’m not all that competitive. We can share the podium.”

“Hm,” he huffs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs, “Bloody shame, that.”

At that, you furrow your brows, confused.

“Why?” You ask.

“Nothin’ just…” his eyes flick up to meet your own, so dangerously dark you could drown in their depths, “Thought you might wanna compare. Y’know, just to make sure we’re both telling the truth. I mean…”

His gaze drops to your chest then, biting his cheek when he sees how droplets of sweat collect in the valley between your breasts.

“I dunno what you look like beneath that bra, sweetheart,” he comments, “Ain’t it a little unfair? That you know what I look like without a shirt, but I’ve never seen you without one?”

At his words, your jaw drops. Once again, just like that day in the conference room all those years ago, you find yourself speechless, all but helpless to watch as he stands and comes closer. With every heavy step, the sheer mass of his muscles makes itself known. And when he stops just in front of you, the musk of his perspiration—a badge of his hard work in and of itself—envelops you like a fiery hug.

In a haze, you look up at him, feeling your core pulse when he pointedly dips his chin, looking down at the slopes of your breasts.

“Sure you wanna give up that easily?” He whispers, and his voice paints shivers up your spine. His head lolls the other direction, and at his side, he lifts one burly hand.

However, before he can touch you, your entire body is consumed with nerves. Without even thinking, you slap your hands down on his bare chest—a sound that (thankfully) Kyle and Johnny can’t hear over their own conversation—stopping him before the heat inside of your body can devour you once and for all.

“That’s—I’m really not that competitive. I mean, I—” your ramble breaks into a flustered giggle, and you step away from him awkwardly, “This bra—it’s…I’m pretty sweaty. It’s hot in here, isn’t it? God, the air conditioner must have broken or something.”

Your laughter is obnoxiously tense. So tense you swear you can see the confusion in his eyes.

“Just—I’m just gonna head to the locker room, and….change my clothes,” you huff, already walking away, “Uh—good job on your PR, LT. If you keep lifting like that—well…”

You snap you jaw shut before you can repeat Soap’s horrible line from earlier. At that, Simon’s hand drops lazily back to his side, head cocked—this time, in utter confusion.

“That wasn’t a PR,” he calls after you, but you’re already walking away, slamming the locker room door shut behind you before his horrible, stupid, delicious voice can follow you any longer.

For once, you thank the universe that there aren’t more women on base. Because the instant you burst through the doors, you have the locker room all to yourself. Panting, you collapse onto a bench, gripping the wooden seat like it might stop you from doing something you might regret.

Yet, your brain remains outside, back in the gym, with your bare hands against his naked chest, his body heat warming your palms like a hearth. And suddenly, it’s impossible to contain yourself any longer. Before you can stop yourself—before you can even think about what’s right and decent—you spread your legs on the bench, swiping a hand up against your clothed cunt.

And just like you suspected, your slick has already leaked through your panties and leggings, a barely noticeable dark spot over the front of your pants. Just at that singular touch, your body sings and your pussy aches for more. For something purposeful. For something harder. Thicker. Longer.

Your brain is overwhelmed with your own needs.

Water.

Touch.

Heat.

Love.

Him.

“God…” you curse, plunging your hands into your pants when it all becomes to much. Instantly upon spreading your folds, you find an unabashed swipe of slick. It paints over your knuckles from front to back, and your fingers barely have the grip to spread yourself long enough to circle your fingers around your clit.

“Fuck,” you moan quietly, but in the stark silence, each and every breath sounds like a bomb dropping.

Blood rushes straight to your core, and just when you finally manage to get a good rhythm, something hollow and aching cries out within you—something baser, something that was so innate it was only a part of your biology, not your person.

And it cries out for something more. For something to fill you—for him to fill you—if only so that the horrible emptiness in your cunt would fade back into the recesses of your body.

And yet, it doesn’t. It nags on your mind. Tugs on your heart. It screams and begs until rubbing at your clit feels pointless—until you relent with a bitten mewl, shoving two fingers inside of your dripping hole before you can think better of it.

At the sudden intrusion—however small and unsatisfying it may be—your body calms just the slightest bit. It’s just enough for you to shakily rest your heels on the edge of the bench, chin dropping to look down at where you brazenly touch yourself in the middle of the locker room. Slowly, you push in and out of yourself, watching your hand move beneath the soaked black fabric.

Just a bit more, you tell yourself with every push, Just enough to tie me over until I get back to the room.

But the longer you watch, the longer you sit there and try to fulfill a fantasy that’s impossible for only a single person to realize, the more desperate you become. And before you know it, tears spring to your eyes, frustration welling up inside of you.

Your fingers aren’t gonna cut it.

Whimpering, you bite your lip. The toy you kept in your room might do it. It wouldn’t be the same. No, it couldn’t even compare to a living, breathing person, but it was the best you were going to get. Hurriedly, you tug your hands out of your pants, swiping your fingers over your leggings in a haphazard attempt at cleaning them. You grab your things, making a beeline for the door.

—only to slam straight into a firm chest the minute you step outside the locker room.

Once again, you’re enveloped in that scent.

Tobacco.

Body wash.

Sweat.

Musk.

Man.

And before you can think better of it, you shakily raise your eyes, unable to hide the way your body thrums with discomfort and need when he overshadows you like this. Again, you’re swallowed up in everything that he is. His proximity, attention, and intensity. And mercilessly, he comes closer, sweat drying against his skin.

The gym is empty and quiet now.

It’s just the two of you, and the silence could not weigh heavier.

With a single look, he knows.

He knows what you need.

In the back of his throat, he makes a deep noise, one that reverberates in the very chambers of your heart. Before you can even stop him, he reaches out and delicately takes your hand into his. Experimentally, he brushes his thumbs over your knuckles, looking down at them intently.

“Is this sweat?” He says lowly, “Or something else?”

Your heart rate spikes when you look down at where he holds you—at where the few remaining lines of your own slick stain his fingertips. Useless, you struggle for your words, but your jaw can only open and close stupidly, completely inarticulate.

Watching the pitiful sight, a smirk overcomes his lips.

He drops your hands.

He plants his palm against the flat of your chest, right above your hardened nipples.

And when he slowly backs you up into the locker room once again, you can’t find it in yourself to push him away—especially not when he hooks his finger under the hem of your bra, tugging it down over your cleavage. He licks his lips when he sees the obscene way that the fabric indents the fat of your tits.

“Just need to make sure,” he tells you.

Notes:

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trulyhblue · 7 months ago

Text

STARGIRL

Georgia Stanway x Reader

Warnings — smut 18+, buildup, mean! Boyfriend! Kind of toxic! Georgia, dom/sub dynamics, drinking, partying, jealousy, strap, millie bright hate but not hate but pls I love you millie bright so flirt with me x, kind of dumb reader but like she actually doesn't know, praise kink, degradation kink, breeding kink.

_______________________

Your dress had hitched to an unethical height, but the state of your tipsiness provoked a desolated ignorance accompanied by the thunderous beat of the club. Grace was behind you, swaying her hips with yours, the two of you celebrating your most recent win with the Lionesses.

The room was crowded with dancing bodies, mashed together with the concoction of sweat, alcohol, and oblivion. You had seen Less, Ella and Niamh nearby only a while ago, and an ample group of your teammates were sitting in the back corner surrounded by a booth, projecting their triumph in the form of the burn down their throats, the drinks they nursed holding to a product of victory.

“Ugh, I'm so sweaty,” Grace whined, loud enough in order to be heard over the booming rave. “I need a drink.”

“Same, let's go.” You nodded, feeling the girl’s hands snake around your waist, pulling you closer to her figure as the crowd collapsed further into your figure.

The two of you sauntered through the crowd, giggling at the mob of people struggling to find enough space to properly function. Your cheeks were stained a vibrant pink from the flush of adrenaline. Grace was humming along to the tune in your ear, her arms still holding onto you tightly so that you wouldn't lose each other.

It wasn't often that the team went out for drinks, especially not the likes of such a mix of the different friend groups. Lucy and Keira weren't set to go back to Spain for another three days, and most of the girls would seek refuge in the comfort of their own beds tonight, as the match held in Wembley sought itself in the midst of the WSL.

Georgia and you were set to leave for Munich two days from now after spending the last two weeks preparing and playing for your national team here in England. While Gee had transferred from City a while ago, you had only just moved to Bayern from Chelsea, where someone like Grace had become your closest friend in the WSL. As one of the younger players on the team, you wanted to make sure the debutant felt welcome and comfortable in the senior squad, despite her training with the team long before her match debut.

Over the last couple of months, you had been working really hard in order to aid your club to victory, but after the nasty blow in the Champions League, and some defeats sprinkled here and there throughout the season, this night was long awaited.

Once Grace and you had finally woven your way through, you were quick to find refuge on Georgia’s lap, leaving Grace to sit on the opposite side of the booth next to Mary. Gee found her hands secured on your waist, ignoring the way your hips wiggled in her lap.

“Having fun, are we?” She asked, watching as you hummed in reply, taking it upon yourself to take a sip of her drink. You failed to notice your girlfriend's fimble hands tugging down the fabric of your skirt, hiding the notion by massaging your thighs and kissing your exposed shoulder.

The enriching taste of lemonade made you turn to straddle her, holding the drink up to her lips while the straw was still lingering close to yours.

“You’re not drinking?”

“I’m driving us back, baby.” Gee shook her head. “Do you want me to get you another drink?”

You thought to yourself before slowly reaching down to where your girlfriend’s collar met her throat, toying with the cloth in your hands before pressing your lips to her pulse point, letting her take the drink, placing it back on the table as you ran your tongue along the column of her throat.

“Y/N, baby.” You heard Gee mutter. You lifted your hips off her lap, combing your hair out of your face as you counted to speckled freckles on Georgia’s cheeks. She took out her wallet, handing you her card. “Do you ‘wanna go buy yourself something? The girls and I were ‘gonna go play pool over there if you want to meet us there.”

“Do you want anything?” Shaking her head in reply, keeping a prolonged stare down the trajectory of your low-cut top. You tugged at the bottom of her shirt, letting your hands roam freely across the waistband of her trousers. Rocking your hips, you found Grace already standing behind you, grabbing your hands and leading you over to the bar.

It wasn't unusual for Georgia to brush off your public affection like that, especially when you were obviously tipsy, and the lingering eyes of your friends were all at your disposal. If you had kissed her in a secluded corner of this club, she would've taken you up against the nearest wall as fast as she could. She had been eyeing that dress — or moreso the skin it was hardly concealing — and wanting so desperately to take you home and show you how much she loved you.

The games against Sweden and Italy were both masterclasses on your behalf, and Georgia was merely waiting for the right time to reward you for scoring in both of them.

“You need to get a room.” Grace teased, her eyes peering back to where Georgia shamelessly looked at your arse. “No wonder the fans found out so quickly.”

You turned to face the younger girl, a smirk adorned on your face. “Two months was a struggle in itself.”

Gee and you had tried to keep your relationship well out of the media. But after your move to Munich, and a few too many proper English celebrations, the media had caught on to your affection and adoration for each other far too quickly than what you had hoped. Nevertheless, both of you sprinkled your private lives into your Instagram every once and a while. Save some photos of you that Georgia was not willing to share with the world.

“No, I know.” She replied, pivoting through the crowd. “But it's cute. Traumatic for me… But cute.”

You used Georgia’s card to buy yourself and her two lemonades and Grace a drink of her own. Grace’s regard for your relationship was an unusual sentiment because while you strived to hold your private life out of the fame and publicity of football, there was an inevitable spark between the two of you that fans caught onto long before you ever thought of Georgia in the way you do now.

Despite what is displayed, you were two very reserved people, with Georgia being the more talkative of the two of you when it came to interviews. You loved your social life — your friends both at home and away. However, there were many differences that distinguished a shift in personas.

You liked to push the boundaries. If you could test your luck, it was impossible to tempt you otherwise. Georgia liked routine. You didn't mind testing the waters and going with the flow. Life was more enjoyable that way.

At least for you.

Georgia had watched you make your way to the bar, hoping you’d return with something a lot less strong than what you had been downing previously. Grace was hung by your side, the younger woman holding onto your arm with giggles leaving her lips. Gee waited for you to inch down your skirt before following Mary and the others over to where Leah was lining up for a game of pool.

“Any reason you're easing off the drinks tonight, Stanway?”

Millie was lingering by the group, nursing her own drink while Rach and Lucy talked beside her. Georgia shrugged, moving her hands to her pockets as she watched Leah take the first shot against Keira.

“I'm driving home.”

Millie snorted. “Will you make it home?”

If Gee was drinking, she would've choked. “What?”

“Well, you were pretty much eating each other’s faces off just before. Figured you couldn't wait.”

Georgia shrugged again. She wasn't too keen on the conversation, especially when the topic didn't deem either you or her in the highest regard. Everyone knew that Georgia wasn't into that type of PDA, but it was also noted that given the right reasons, she’d be worse than you.

“You’re a lucky one, Gee.” The Chelsea Defender clapped the Midfielder on the back, downing the rest of her drink. “Enjoy your night.”

Millie left Georgia to stand a few feet away from the rest of the group — leaving her to mull over her teammate’s words. For some reason, she couldn't shake Millie’s comments off. What did she mean — enjoy your night? What was she implying? Of course, she was going to enjoy her night with her girlfriend. Of course Gee was lucky, but why was Millie saying that? Normally, these comments were used as a compliment, and with Millie’s best intentions, everyone knew she was only pure. But when Georgia saw the way the Chelsea player flung her arm over your shoulder upon your return, talking down at you amid the booming music, something in Georgia flicked.

Everyone had gotten progressively more drunk as the night went on, but you were fully immersed in the way everyone was interacting, holding your own conversation with Millie, who was going on about some football thing happening at Chelsea.

Leah was swearing at Keira, who was cheekily laughing away at the ratio of her balls to Leah’s left in the game. You had left Georgia’s drink in front of you, and you continued to keep it by your side as you watched the bickering between Lee and Keira transpire.

“You're a right cheat, Walsh, go home.” Williamson quipped, shoving Keira playfully by the shoulder. The Barcelona player poked out her tongue, jabbing the Arsenal protege's side. “Oh, cry me a river, Leah. You're just a sore losers who’s downright shit.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Oh, piss off.”

“You first.”

“Right give someone else a go!” Lucy called, her accent slightly rasped and slurred. She scanned the room, looking straight across to where you and Millie stood. “Go on, you two. Show ‘em how to play normally.”

You felt yourself sober up a little from the attention of everyone’s stares. You felt your ears go a bit red, shaking your head by the time Millie had already picked up her cue.

“I'm no good at it.” You spoke.

Georgia watched you saunter over to the side of the table, using your arms to lean, stabilising your ditzy figure. She could tell by the blush across your face that you had sobered up significantly, but she knew that the alcohol still held a prominent hold over you.

“It’ll be an easy win for me then, gorgeous.” Millie taunted, readying herself for the first shot. You shook your head, caving by grabbing the spare cue Keira was holding, all while Georgia looked on with her hands fisted in her pockets.

She wasn't usually the type to get like this. Georgia and you held great independence in your respective lives. Both of you enjoyed letting the other do stuff without the prodding of the other. You trusted each other too much to breach any boundaries, but if there was one thing Georgia had trouble keeping to herself, it was her jealousy.

Millie took the first hit, causing the object balls to cascade across the green fabric. Leah was standing behind you, muttering something into your ear. You stood there with your figure half leaning against her, the other half fidgeting with the cue.

“Wait, so, I don't remember-”

“Well, don't be asking Leah for advice,” Keira’s teasing voice came from nearby. “She’ll just tell you how to lose.”

Leah looked utterly exasperated, glaring at her best friend with annoyance plastered across her face. “Oh, give it up, Walsh, will you?”

“Alright, Milton Keynes, it's okay to admit defeat, y’know.”

The England Captain marched over to a laughing Keira, punching the girl’s shoulder. Everyone watched in amusement when Keira retaliated, using her arms to poke Leah in the ribs.

You were left fiddling with the stick, laughing along at the sight in front of you while internally pondering. You had never properly played pool before — obviously with friends, of course, but never taking it as far as playing by the rules. You had no idea what strategy to use, or what ball you were meant to hit. It wasn't like anyone cared, but the perfectionist in you just couldn't wrap your head around it.

“Give it here.”

It wasn't until you felt familiar arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you instantly closer to her hips. You let yourself fall limp against her, chewing on your bottom lip as you stared at the game you were clueless at.

“I don't know how to play.” You spoke, handing the cue to your girlfriend, who took the stick from you, moving her head down to your shoulder, letting her breath fan over your neck as she spoke.

“How ‘bout I show you then, hm? I’ll teach you.”

You sighed at the goosebumps running down your neck, nodding as Gee kept you in front of her, maneuvering the two of you in a way that made it possible for her to play while keeping your arse against her hips. You watched as Millie made the next move. Georgia waited for a moment, letting everything station before proceeding. With one arm circled around your waist, she bent over to make the next move. You felt her body press into yours, stuck between the table and her.

After her shot, she slotted back upright. She leant down once more, combing back the loose hairs that framed your face.

“How are you feeling, Baby?”

Her voice was deeper, more grounded by the time of night.

You couldn't help but look up at her, licking your lips as you nodded. “Good, why?”

Georgia held your hips, moving them so that they were glued to the table. “Just wondering, pretty girl.”

Her body loomed over yours, her arms sanctioned on either side of you as Millie thought through her next move. You tried to conceal your neediness, the feeling of Georgia’s body pressed against yours sending heat down your spine. “Gee.”

“What is it, baby?”

You struggled to focus, hoping Millie would hurry up so that Georgia would move away from her unrelenting pressure.

You managed to swallow your whine as her hand moved to fondle your thigh. “Nothing.”

It was soon Georgia’s turn, the game becoming more fluent as both sides successfully slotted in balls left and right. Though, as the game went on, you could feel your girlfriend grow more and more handsy. After every shot, she’d kiss the alcove of your neck, whispering a sweet nothing about how you looked, or the way you felt against her, that was borderline testing the innocence she often preserved out in public.

“Looking so good tonight, darling…”

“Can't believe you're all mine, babygirl…”

“So perfect for me, all to myself…”

In between turns, Georgia let you lean on her, loving the way you sighed at every ounce of affection she would give you, making sure it was obvious enough for Millie to catch on, while discrete enough for you to not feel like it was truly public for anyone to actually notice.

You nearly lost it when she slotted her hand in between your thighs and squeezed them while you kept a watchful eye on the game in front of you. Her body covered your back, hiding her obvious display of desire by letting you push your arse against her front.

“Feel so good, don't you?”

“Georgia, please.”

“You're doing so well, baby. Might have to reward you for being so good.”

You should've known that she would keep a straight face the whole time, refusing to give you the reaction you so desperately hungered for by the ache between your legs. You had tried everything as she massaged your shoulders, and whispered passive teasing that sent shivers down your neck. Despite your honest belief that Georgia was unfazed by your antics, she made it clear that your actions were heard when she dug her hands into your hips.

She had beaten Millie by an easy mile, though she did not bother to make any celebration, instead looking down at you, grabbing the back of your neck and kissing you softly.

“Can we go, Gee?”

“Why, baby?” She asked, a knowing smirk plastered across her lips.

You whined for the first time that night, making sure Georgia heard it by lifting yourself up to her height. “Just want you right now.”

“Want me? But I'm right here.”

“Georgia, please. I need your help.”

That was enough for Georgia to bid everyone good night, sending farewells as quickly as she could while you tried to forget about the growing arousal in your core. By the time you had both gotten into the empty car park, your lips had started to attack hers. Georgia pretty much coerced you into the car, moving the driver's seat all the way back so that you could sit comfortably on her lap.

She shut the door promptly, knowing that her tinted windows were enough to hide the way her hands played with your arse, your clit immediately rubbing against her hips.

You started tugging off your shirt, leaving your breasts on full display. Georgia couldn't even register the sight before you grabbed one of her hands, pulling it towards your nipple, groaning at the way she pinched it.

“Where is your phone?” You uttered, moving your chest closer to Georgia so that your tits were pretty much in her face. She took one of your nipples in her mouth, moaning when you moved your breasts around her face, making them bounce erratically with the lack of bra you had worn. She grabbed her phone from her back pocket, handing it to you without a second thought. You didn't waste any time in pushing back, opening the device before swiping to the camera, hastily pressing play on the video, and moving the phone so that it showed your tits in Georgia’s mouth on full display.

“You’re such a good girl for me.” She groaned. “So thoughtful, aren't you? Gonna watch this when you're not with me. Need to see these tits every day, don't I? Gonna watch you every day.”

“Need you to fuck me, baby. Need your cum in me so bad.”

You grabbed the top button on her shirt, moaning out when Georgia grabbed both of your tits, sitting upright and playing with both of them with her mouth and hands. Her cold rings pressed into the delicate skin of you nipples, the distant pain of her pinches making you squirm irresistibly in her lap. Your skirt had ridden up to your hips, where your g-string went exposed to the camera’s lense.

You moved across to the console, using your spare hand that wasn't tugging Georgia’s hair to find a hair elastic, though you graw impatient when Gee stopped kissing your breasts for you neck. Instead, she found the all-too-familiar toy hidden neatly underneath the lube you definitely wouldn't need, and you moaned as your hand squeezed around the strap that you pulled out once Georgia pinched your nipple once more.

“Haven't used this one before.” Your girlfriend whispered, nibbling dark, callous marks across your neck. “Bit too big for your small little hole, darling. It can't fit, can't it?”

“Try it, please.” You muttered, unbuttoning the woman’s pants and letting them fall to the floor. You buckled the harness around her waist to the best of your ability, giving up when Georgia took over, letting you discard the short, flimsy fabric of your skirt. “Make it fit.”

“You're so desperate for my cum, aren't you darling?” She rutted, fastening the harness so the strap only just missed your folds. “Want me to fill you up with kids so bad, don't you? Want me to make you full and pregnant, yeah?”

You moaned. “Want to have your babies inside of me. Fill me up, please. So bad, baby. Need your help cause it aches.”

Georgia bunched your hair up into a makeshift pony, pushing you down so that your mouth hovered over the strap. Your arse in the air, your tits kneaded by your own hands. Georgia moaned at the sight of you so desperate, the notion of the camera recording making it all the more sporadic.

You wasted no time licking the dick, holding the base of the silicone toy with one hand, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked the tip and first quarter of the strap in your mouth. Gee pulled your hair, letting you move up and down on her dick. The vibrations of your gagging mixed with moans made her sigh at her newfound, growing release.

“Fuck, keep going, Y/N.” She groaned. “Just like that.”

You continued until tears pricked your eyes. You could tell by the way Georgia’s grip on your scalp tightened and your tongue flicked along the tip, your cheeks hollowing and allowing more of the strap to fill your throat. It didn't take long until Georgia’s breathing had staggered. Short, uneven breaths mixed with erratic sweet nothings. You pushed yourself down her dick one last time, feeling Gee’s body collapse from all tension as her orgasm washed over her. You pulled yourself up, wiping the spit and cum off your face with your fingers, prodding them towards your mouth. Georgia watched you lick them clean, rolling your head back at the taste alongside the subtle pang of your throat.

The car windows were not only tinted but misted due to the humidity inside the vehicle. Your hips shadowed the strap, Georgia falling back into the rhythm of toying with your hips, kneading them as she kissed your neck.

You could feel the ache between your legs grow at the sight of your girlfriend beneath you, maneuvering you to where she wanted you most, giving you incredible amounts of pleasure at your disposal. You were starting to moan at the simplest of movements like the way she gripped your hips, or the way she licked over the bruises down your neck and chest. The last piece of clothing you had on was your underwear, Georgia now discarding her shirt so that you were both in states of nudity. Sweat beaded from your forehead.

Your legs started shaking from the mere want for the woman below you. It didn't take you long for your desire to take over as you grabbed one of Gee’s hands, slipping it down your stomach and along the fabric of your underwear. You painstakingly pushed her hand underneath, letting her move her fingers up and down your folds. The slick covered them instantly, and she rolled her head back when you began to rock on her hand.

“Do you feel how wet I am, baby?” You asked, Georgia nodded. She watched you bounce up and down, grateful at the way Gee pushed one of her fingers into you, letting you ride it in short pulsates. You whimpered when she entered her second finger, crying out when she entered her third. Georgia took one of your breasts in her mouth, groaning as you bobbed up and down. You felt your pussy clench around her, your arousal coating her fingers each time you pushed deeper into your strategic strokes. Georgia continued to hold one of your hips, helping your shaking legs hold yourself up as you neared your climax.

“Fuck, you're such a slut, aren't you?” Georgia uttered, her fourth finger nudging your clit as you sunk in once more. You rocked yourself back and forth now, relishing the way your nub ran itself over her hand, the coil in your core tightening as your climax neared.

“Grinding on me at the pool table cause you're so needy for me… everyone could tell that you just wanted me inside you. You made sure to show everyone who you belonged to.”

You were a blabbering mess. Your stokes became sloppy, your legs non-stop shaking as your body tensed at the pleasure running through you. Georgia curled her fingers inside of you, assaulting your clit as you struggled to keep your pace. There was no way you could reply as all your thoughts were focused on the sounds of your juices being leaked out from your hole, Georgia’s fingers forcing them in and out as she spoke to you in rasps. Your noises became pornographic, and you no longer cared about the thought of someone hearing you.

“Need me to do everything for you. I didn't even need to fuck you dumb. All I need to do is bend you over.”

You could finally feel your orgasm washing over you when Georgia pulled her fingers out, laughing at your instant cry out.

“Aw, baby.” She muttered, wiping your sweaty flyaways out of your face, tears fell from your eyes, your cheeks reddening as you fell onto her lap, your legs no longer able to hold you up. You looked down at your girlfriend, finding no remorse on her smug face.

“Why didn't you cum, pretty girl?” She tutted, pulling your body up from her chest so it was exposed to her view. You shook your head, fully dumbfounded at her actions. It wasn't like you had done anything wrong.

“I— Gee— I’ve been good.”

You sounded pathetic. Normally, if you had been a brat, you’d have said that as a joke to put on an innocent facade and get the sex you had desperately craved. You would pretend to be nice and suck her dick or eat her out just because you had done something to provoke it. There were countless times when Gee had edged you for doing something provocative, but tonight you had no idea why she had done it.

“Really, baby? You think so?” You looked at her with the saddest eyes you could muster. “You sure you've been good all night?”

In terms of your sex life, you had your fair share of dominant and submissive moments, but with Georgia, you found yourself subbing out to new extremes. Your girlfriend would do anything for you, on and off the pitch. You could act dumb and she’d fuck it out of you. You would fall over on the pitch, cry out even if it was a fair play, and Georgia would be the one receiving the yellow for defending you. When you were at a bar, or anywhere for the matter, and felt someone look at you in even the slightest wrong way, Gee would hold you in front of her and make sure you were always safe in her arms.

But Georgia could be mean, even if you hadn't necessarily done anything to make her mean. She usually got like this when you had hugged someone for too long, or made a joke about yourself that she thought was too far.

That made it all click.

“Are you jealous?”

Georgia scoffed, rolling her eyes. “You can't flirt with Bright then bend over for me two minutes later.”

She grabbed your waist and lifted you, switching positions so that you were lying in the driver’s seat and she was hovering above you.

“I wasn't flirting. I was talking.” You moaned at the contact of the strap’s tip brushing against your folds, moving up and down as Georgia’s hands massaged your arse.

“She called you gorgeous, you know.” You felt her breath fan over your face, her lips ghosting down your neck. “Said I should enjoy my night with you.”

“She did?” It was probably not the right way to phrase that response, but it didn't seem to phase Georgia anyway. “We were just talking, Geor-”

“I bet she wouldn't fuck you as good.” Georgia spat, using one hand to circle your clit. You threw your head back, moaning at the small discomfort from your prior denied orgasm, writhing at the sudden pressure on your sensitive nub. “If I showed her all the videos of you screaming my name I doubt she’d try that shit again.”

“Georgia…”

“What videos would I show her, hm?” Georgia started dragging one of her fingers into your pussy, beginning with slow, painful strokes that squelched with the sound of your juices. “Maybe she’d like the mirror one. Y’know, when we won against Wolfsburg and I fucked you in the bathroom?”

“Fuck, please Gee.”

“You were so hot in that one… bent over like the slut you are… came three times for your three goals.” She added the second finger in now, speeding up just a smidge all while kissing over your chest. “Do you think she’d like if I sent that one?”

You moaned at the third finger, tears pricking your eyes as Georgia entered your pussy hard and fast, enjoying your pleas and begs through mindless mumbles. You were so far gone that everything she was saying was only making you closer. The sound of her voice was enough to help you closer to release.

“Or maybe I should send the one after your first game with Munich.” She snarled, admiring the darkened marks on your neck. “Do you remember who we played against that game?”

Of course you did, you thought. The game has been one you were stressing over for weeks in advance. You and Georgia had only just moved in together, and there was significant pressure on you to succeed and prove to everyone that you could perform under intimidation.

“Chelsea.”

“Good girl, baby, that's right.” She cooed. “Scored in the first fifteen minutes, and I had to reward my Stargirl for that. That's what they all used to call you, didn't they? She called you Stargirl back then, now it's me who says it, isn't it?”

That was enough to push you closer to the edge. You gripped hard onto her shoulders, crying out as you felt your climax rush over you.

“How bout I send both those videos… show her who I enjoy my night with. Fucking you for being mine.”

“I— I'm yours, Gee. Fuck, please, I'm-”

The release left you reeling. You felt your orgasm leak out all over Georgia’s hand, your head falling against the headrest as you rode out your high with her consistent deep strokes in and out of your pussy. You didn't care about the mess you were making, nor the inflammatory noises you had been making as soon as you felt Georgia touch you. Your body shook from the much-needed release, and by the time you had somewhat caught your breath, the familiar pressure on your nub resurfaced.

You cried out, whining when the silicone dick entered your folds. Georgia looked down at you, kissing you passionately to silence your post-orgasm conscious. She made sure that you didn't push her away before moving the tip of the strap into your hole, smirking when you stretched open for her like you had been calling for it to be filled.

“Gee, its too big, I can't.” You whined, squirming as your hair stuck to your skin. Your girlfriend held your hips down, lowering herself down to where your pussy clenched around the toy as it moved.

“You’ll take it.” She growled. “You said it before. If you can suck me off I can fuck you with it.”

She kept an even pace as her hips finally reached yours, the strap filling your pussy with your slick. Your eyes were firmly clasped shut, your whines filling the car as the aching pain slowly turned into lust. Georgia waited for you to start rocking on it gently. The way you rode her dick so desperately turned her on to extreme lengths. She was somewhat surprised that you could take the length as well as you were, and when your hips met hers, and she felt the toy being bounced on, she realised that she had been still for a few minutes. She wanted to feel bad, but she knew that teasing was good for your ego.

“Gee, can you move?”

Georgia caught sight of the camera, the video still recording the vulgar sight. She groaned at the sight of your shaking legs, and the way you could go longer see the strap that was filled in between your legs. The camera showed the way your tits bounced so perkily every time you tried to gain friction. Your body was enclosed by Georgia’s arms, her thighs overlapping yours, her muscles on full display. Sweat beaded off both of you, moans cascading from your puffy red lips.

With one hand holding her up, she grabbed her phone that was sitting by the console. Her sudden movement sent shockwaves through you, causing you to scream out when the strap pushed into you impossibly closer. Georgia positioned the phone so that it was leaning on the seat, right where the strap was. When she knew that the angle caught all of your body, she lifted her lips slowly before pounding into you.

Your cries were music to her ears, and she thought it sinful to cover them with her hand in fear of being heard. If anything, people would be blessed with the sound, for she thought if heavenly. Your sounds mixed with her groans mixed with your slick against the strap. If any other size, Georgia would move even faster, but her pace was already hard, and you struggled to keep up as your pussy clenched around her.

“So gorgeous.” She uttered, feeling you near your climax for the third time that night. “Such a good girl for taking it.”

“Fuck, Georgia-”

“Gonna fill you up so that you get pregnant, baby. You tell me when and I’ll fill that beautiful body with a baby of our own. Fuck, you’d look so hot with our baby.”

You couldn't even begin to speak, your moans now babble, your speech completely incoherent. Georgia could feel her own release overcoming her, but she waited knowing that you were only seconds away.

“My pretty girl.”

You cried out her name for the last time, your cum coating her cock as she rode out both your high with sloppy deep strokes. You were in a state of pure bliss that you didn't even have the energy to push her off your overstimulated clit. Though, from all the times before, Georgia knew you would be sore, and after keeping still and waiting for both of you to even your breathing, she began to pull out.

You winced, waiting for Georgia to discard the toy and hakt the video before pulling her body into yours.

“I love you, Gee. No one else, baby.”

“I know, my pretty girl. I was only joking.”

You couldn't help but laugh, finding that statement ludicrous. “Yeah, alright, Stanway.”

“Okay, touche.” She replied smugly.

Maybe Millie was right — Georgia couldn't wait till she got home. And she did enjoy her fucking night.

_______________________

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the-californicationist · 1 month ago

Text

Cali's Kinktober: Day 12

Kinktober Masterlist vi coactus - "under duress" Simon "Ghost" Riley/TF141 x f!reader Kinks > SHAME, forced orgasms, bimbo/dumbification Full tags on AO3 - MDNI - Read at your own risk.

“Under duress” — A quick exfil means limited seats in the TAC-V. Simon lets you sit on his lap, but it’s a really bumpy road. When you realize that his thigh is the perfect shape, and that it’s pressing against your most sensitive spot, there’s not much you can do to stop yourself. Might as well enjoy the ride.

Warnings: SHAME! EMBARRASSMENT! SHAME!!!!, mean teasing, slut shaming, it's not non-con but no one asks for permission; this truck is not a safe-space.

No one said a word. Once the noise of the petrol explosion and the machine guns faded from your ears, all that you could hear was the rattle and rumble of the engine of the TAC-V. The mission had been successful, but barely. You’d secured the package, but it had cost you the chopper exfil that you’d been desperately counting on. What was a quick twenty minute flight was now an eight hour drive through the bumpiest mountain road known to man, and you were sitting on Ghost’s lap for the entire trip.

The TAC-V sat two in front and three in back, so with Price and Gaz up in the driver and passenger seats, you should have been able to fit in the rear with Ghost and Soap. But, the care package was taking up your spot. As the smallest member of the squad, you were relegated to lap-status, much to your audible dismay.

“Shut your mouth and get in the truck, Corporal!” Price had shouted, spraying cover fire over the hood of the vehicle.

So, that’s where you found yourself. Mouth shut. Seat secured.

There was only one problem. Ghost’s thighs were enormous. He never skipped leg day, and when you tried to sit against his hips to distribute your weight, his gear vest was in the way. So, he’d shifted you over onto his right thigh, forcing you to straddle him, and now you could feel… everything.

Every time Price hit another bump – which was once or twice every few seconds at this point – Ghost’s rock-solid quad muscle would jerk up into your pussy, shaking your most sensitive bits. It was savage, but it was making your body respond in ways that you did not appreciate. And now, you were in the middle of fighting off the most embarrassing orgasm of your life.

You could feel how wet you were through the canvas pants you were wearing. Your panties were soaked in the first hundred kilometers, so they were useless against your slick pleasure. Soon, Ghost would be able to feel the warm stain of your cunt imprinting itself on his own trousers, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You had tried to shift away in the beginning of this trip, rotating your hips back and forth, trying to search for a less-shameful angle, but he had grumbled,

“Sit still, love. Tha’s enough squirmin’ around.”

His hand had reached out to secure your hip, pulling you down into a deep seated position, crushing your soft lips against his thigh and spreading them apart unknowingly.

You’d managed to suffer in pure silence so far, but that was becoming more and more challenging as the ride got rougher. The desire to roll your hips against him to take the edge off of the blinding friction you were experiencing was mind-numbing. You were sweaty from battle and now you were sweaty from nerve-racking lust, and there was no escape. You still had hundreds of kilometers to go, and you didn’t know what you were going to do.

Your body knew exactly what it was going to do, though. It was going to come whether you wanted to or not.

“You alright, lass? Car sick?” Johnny asked, peering over at you as your head rested against the driver’s headrest in front of you.

“Need a break, babes?” Gaz turned in his seat to check on you.

“No can do,” Price shook his head and peered at you in the rearview mirror, “Still in the red zone. We can’t stop here and expect to make it out without drawing unwanted attention.”

“Here,” Gaz reached back and unclipped your vest, “At least take this off so you can catch a breath.”

You let him slip the vest off your shoulders and stuff it in the footwell on the floor in front of him. He passed you his canteen, and you tried to open it with trembling hands.

“She’s not fuckin’ sick,” Ghost hissed, grabbing the canteen and opening it for you before lifting it to your lips so you could drink.

The rest of the truck-full of men waited to hear the rest of Ghost’s explanation. You felt heat rush to your cheeks in painful humiliation as you waited for him to reveal your predicament. You knew, now, that he could feel you. You had thought you’d gotten away with it so far, but it was too obvious. He could feel the wet, sticky patch on his quad growing with every tremulous shake of the truck, and he knew what was happening to you. You could almost hear the jeering smile on his lips when he told them,

“She needs a quick wank, innit that right, Corporal?”

You tried to keep your eyes trained on the floor, but you had to see what their faces looked like. You lifted your gaze to meet Price’s bright blue eyes in the mirror, the evidence of Ghost’s truth written all over your expression.

The silence was broken up only by the road noise. No one spoke and no one breathed. You looked to Gaz and saw his mouth open in shock, curling at the edge of his lip with a boyish glee. Soap’s brow was furrowed in disbelief,

“S’that true, bonnie?”

Ghost didn’t even give you a chance to answer him. He shoved his gloved hand under your crotch as if to feel the evidence on his hand that he was sensing on his thigh, chuckling at your sorry predicament,

“Bumpy road, been wet and warm for almost an hour. Gonna have myself a pretty little pussy stain by the time we get to base. And if I give her somethin’ to work against…”

Your lieutenant curled his fingers that he had shoved underneath you, finding your swollen clit with a surprising ease. As if he’d pushed a button, you let out an obvious moan. You cut it short, unable to hold it back from crawling out of your throat, but the damage was done.

Silence again, and then Gaz’s low voice,

“Holy fuck.”

Ghost removed his hand and settled back in his seat, keeping his grip on your hips with a steadfast strength. He was looking at you in the mirror along with Price who kept glancing up from the road. The message in Ghost’s eyes was a clear challenge; he wasn’t going to give you any more relief, and if you wanted to come on him, you’d need to figure it out yourself.

The urge to hump his solid thigh was overwhelming, and now that the cat was out of the bag, you thought it wouldn’t be possible for you to be any more ashamed, so you started to hump your pussy against him, ever so slightly, almost imperceptibly… but, Ghost couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“See? Needy thing’s grindin’ on me. Can’t help yourself, huh, love?”

You shook your head, looking to Price for some sort of rescue, but what could he do? Your captain was driving as fast as he could out of enemy territory, and you were stuck in place, tumbling into an orgasm and suffering the pain of embarrassment in front of your whole squad.

You moaned, trying to hold your breath, but your whole body shook as you came. Your hole was so wet and burning hot, and you could feel yourself gush as you clenched your muscles around nothing, wishing you had something… someone… inside of you.

“There she is… good girl,” Ghost teased you, rubbing your back as you shuddered above him, rolling in your high.

“Did she just…” Soap gaped.

You looked up at him, and even though your eyes begged for pity, you received none from him. He met you with a filthy grin,

“Come over here with me, lass. I’ll give you somethin’ to fuckin’ sit on.”

He reached for your arm, attempting to drag you over the care package, but Ghost jerked his hand away and wrapped his arm around your belly, forcing you to lean back against him, the tools in his vest digging into your flesh,

“She’s fine where she is, Sergeant. Aren’t ya, sweetheart?”

You felt hot tears stinging the corners of your eyes, and you squeezed them shut, whispering,

“I’m s-sorry…”

“Shh, love. Nothin’ to be sorry for. Can’t be fuckin’ helped. C’mon,” he snarled in your ear, his mask smelling like his menthols and sweat, “Beg me to help you. Beg for my fingers, princess.”

“Simon,” Price warned, watching your degradation unfold behind him.

“Eyes on the bloody road, Cap,” Ghost chuckled, “Bumpy enough back here as it is.”

Gaz hadn’t stopped staring, and you watched in horror as he palmed his hard length over the rough denim of his jeans.

You felt yourself building to another crescendo, the waves of your first orgasm swelling to threaten a second, easier now that you’d let down so much silky come, allowing your pussy to slip that much faster over Simon’s huge thigh.

“Beg me, baby,” Ghost growled in your ear, “Beg me to fuckin’ touch you right here where they can all watch me make you come.”

“No…” You gasped, “I can’t… I’m not…”

“Not what? Not a dumb little slut? Oh, sweetheart. Yes, you are. You’re so fuckin’ wet it looks like you pissed yourself. I bet those pretty knickers are fuckin’ ruined, aren’t they?”

He grabbed you by the chin roughly, startling you, making your core clench tight, turned on by his cruel aggression as he almost shouted in your ear,

“Aren’t they? Tell the fuckin’ truth. Tell it to him,” Ghost’s eyes turned toward the rear view mirror and you looked up at Price, pleading with him for forgiveness in your tone. You mumbled,

“My panties… are…”

“He can’t hear you, baby.” Ghost held your face, forcing you to look at his captain in the eyes through the reflective glass.

“My panties are ruined, sir.”

“Is that so, Corporal?” Price asked in a low droll, and you saw him readjust himself in his pants before putting both fists back on the steering wheel, gripping it so tight that his knuckles turned as white as bone.

“Better see for myself, yeah?” Ghost chuckled, unbuttoning your trousers and yanking down the fly.

He reached inside and grabbed the fabric roughly in his hand and, with a strength that shocked you, he tore them right off of your body with a loud rip, breaking the elastic at the seam and slipping the scrap from under your lips and ass. He held it up for the entire truck to see, showing them how the gray cotton was stained dark from your wetness, how they gleamed in the light of the setting desert sun.

Soap reached out and snatched them from his hand, and Ghost laughed out loud, watching Johnny shove them to his nose and moan out a breath of satisfaction.

“Go on, then,” Ghost turned his attention back on you, “Beg me for it. I wanna hear you say please, sir. You got that, Corporal?”

He snaked his hand back down the front of your belly, barely touching your furry mons, resting his gloved finger just above the hood of your clit, touching you with a light, teasing pressure.

You could feel the rough canvas against your soft pussy now, and the seam was giving you something to grind against, but it was nothing like the feel of a strong finger. You chased another orgasm, but it was just out of reach. You were humping him lewdly, at this point, rocking your hips back and forth with abandon, unable to stop yourself from chasing your second, hard burst of pleasure.

You bit your lip, struggling with all your might, but you were failing to surge over that exaltant peak. You needed his help, but you didn’t want to beg for it. You couldn’t. You were too dismayed at your fallen state.

You looked at Gaz, hoping he could talk some sense into your lieutenant, but he was jerking himself off with a hand down his pants, watching you through hooded eyes. You turned your gaze to Soap who had your ripped panties in his hand and was using them to wet his own heavy cock, smearing your juices all over his ruddy head.

Ghost’s grip tightened on your jaw, and he turned your head toward his passenger window, stopping you from looking at the other men,

“They can’t help you, love. Just me. Now, use your fuckin’ words.”

“Please… touch me,” your voice was barely a whisper.

“Please, what?” He bit back.

“Please touch me, sir,” you whined, sick to your stomach at your own weakness.

“Tha’s a good girl,” he smiled.

He moved his fingers lower, shoving two of them between your lips, applying firm pressure to your clit. He didn’t even need to rub you. Your pussy started to come the moment it had his relief, and you cried out like a paid whore, keening into the hollow cab, rolling your hips against him, chasing your crashing orgasm.

Then, he started to move his hand frantically, rubbing you back and forth, dragging out your bursting come even further than you thought was possible, turning one orgasm into two, back to back, a painful overstimulation, enough to make your body convulse from his effort.

“No, no… oh, fuck!” You screamed, trying to close your legs but his thigh was in the way, and all you could do was ride him.

“Yeah, tha’s it, love. Give it to me. Come on me, you filthy fuckin’ slag. Let ‘em hear what I’m doin’ to this needy cunt.”

“Mmngh! Please… Ghost, please, oh, fuck…”

“Listen to that sound, lads,” he grunted, commenting on the wet, milking noises your cunt was making under his hand, “Runnin’ like a hot tap.”

“Hurry up, LT,” Soap barked, pulling on his cock with your panties wrapped around the hard shaft like he was furious with it, “I’ll only be so patient.”

Ghost shook his head,

“Tsch, tsch, alright, Johnny. If you insist. C’mon, baby. Keep those legs spread f’me like a good girl, yeah?”

You felt him ruck down the back of your pants and shove them onto your legs, exposing your ass to the whole truck. Then, you felt the tell-tale drag of his cockhead over your folds, and before you could even think to protest, he was shoving himself inside of you, slipping through your slick without much resistance, your wet come helping guide his length all the way up to your womb.

Once he had whet his prick down to its root in you, he used both hands to lift your hips and slam them back down, using you like a cocksleeve. He was so thick, but your body was primed and ready to take him, and you found yourself without words, only able to moan and whine as he filled you up.

Gaz reached over, leaning out of his seat to grab your face, turning you towards him so that he could kiss you. You couldn’t even kiss him back, you were so mindless, and he spent most of his time licking your lips and sucking on your tongue as you whimpered for Ghost’s heavy dick, your body jerking up and down as he slammed you onto his steel-hard length repeatedly.

“Does he feel good, babes?” Gaz asked you, sticking two of his fingers into your mouth and down your throat, making you choke on him until you started to instinctively suck and swallow against him, “Tha’s it. Pretty thing just needed somethin’ in her mouth, didn’t she?”

Every time you choked from Gaz’s hand in your throat, you clenched around Ghost’s cock, and he begged his sergeant for more,

“Choke her again, Garrick. Makes her so fuckin’ tight.”

Gaz laughed, full of mischief, and reached up with his other hand to pinch your nose. Then, inside of your mouth, he pressed his fingers in a downward motion over and over and over, making it feel like he was fucking your face with a throbbing dick, too big for you to breathe. You gagged, and then, when you tried to take a breath, you gagged again, your whole body spasming, fighting for air. You could only suck in short breaths when you opened your mouth wider, and Gaz held the relief of those moments from you for as long as he could.

Finally, Ghost wrapped both of his hands around your torso and ripped you away from Gaz’s cruel hand, laying you against his chest and fucking his cock up into you from below, creating loud, pornographic slapping sounds that filled the truck.

“Fuck!” Ghost groaned, “Gonna make me come, love. Say please, baby. C’mon. You can do it. Say it.”

“Dinnae think she’s still with us, LT. Fucked her brains right out of her head,” Soap chuckled.

“She can do it,” Ghost insisted, “C’mon, sweetheart. You’re not gettin’ my come until I hear you beg for it.”

You looked at his eyes in the mirror again, not recognizing yourself in such a mindless state of indulgence, drowning in pleasure and losing yourself to it. He was looking at you with such an intensity, you wanted to please him. You wanted to follow his orders. You wanted to show him that you could be such a good girl.

“P-please…. Please! Ungh, please, sir… Give me your come. Please, sir… I need it. I need it. I need… mmnff-fuck!”

You felt his cock swelling, throbbing, and bursting with hot, sticky ropes of his cream, buried deep inside of your walls, coating the head of your womb as your pussy squeezed out another orgasm, milking him like a hungry mouth. He pulled out a bit only to ram himself back in, deeper this time, stretching to touch the end of your sheath, aching to plant his seed.

“Fuck, finally,” Soap grunted, reaching over the crate with both hands this time to drag you from Ghost’s lap, “Couldnae wait much longer, LT.”

You felt Ghost’s cock slip from you, spilling his come down your leg, your pants sliding down to your boots as Soap dragged you into his lap.

“There she is,” Gaz smiled, returning to his efforts and shoving his fingers back down your throat, this time shifting them back and forth, massaging your tongue as he fucked you on his hand, “Suck them for me, baby. It’ll be my turn, soon.”

“Better enjoy the easy ride while you can, Corporal,” Price sneered, “You’ve got PT in my quarters as soon as we get back to base. Might take all night.”

As Johnny’s fat dick squeezed into your come-soaked pussy, you wanted to protest. You wanted to make some snide comment back, but your usual biting retorts were unavailable at the moment. You really were blissed out of your mind, and the only thing you could do was fuck and suck like the dumb little slut that you were.

If anyone comments on this OBVIOUSLY TAGGED shame kink fic that it was "too embarrassing to read!! huehueuhe"/"i tried but i couldnt do it. too cringe!", I'm gonna come to your house and shit in your shoes, you coward. Get the fuck off my page.

#cali’s kinktober #kinktober 2024 #cod kinktober #call of duty kinktober #graviora manent #by the californicationist #x female reader #x fem!reader #tf141 #captain john price #captain price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #johnny soap mactavish #soap x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader

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bangtanficsforyou · 1 month ago

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Deep Learning (JJK)

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: SMUT. PWP. JUST READY TO GET DOWN AND DIRTY. THAT'S THE GENRE, YES.

Rating: 18+

Summary: Getting tutored by the school nerd sounds boring. Well that is, until you, tease him.

Word count: 5K

Warning: it's just porn without ANY plot 😩, or^l (f receiving), ti^^y sucking, fing^^^ng, p in v s^x, d^^ty talk if it counts, protected sex (cause Jungkook is a nerd, OFC HE'S SMART), there's some degra^^^^on, they do it on the table, he ties her hands up, he stuffs her mouth with her underwear, he spits, he smacks her cl*t and idk what else 🤏🏻😩

This is a Patreon exclusive for the $8 tier.

You hesitate for a split second before ringing the doorbell. You wouldn’t ever admit it out loud but you’re nervous.

Being part of the ‘cool squad’ in your high school meant you were one of those cool people, people thought twice before messing with. However, you don’t think you will look so cool today.

You ring the doorbell once more, your patience running thin because you really want to get over this as quickly as possible.

A faint “I’m coming” greets your ears and you sigh, preparing yourself for whatever it is that will greet you once the door opens.

However, nothing could have prepared you for a shirtless, breathless, sweaty Jeon Jungkook opening the door.

Damn, you think, he’s hot.

In the years that you have seen Jeon Jungkook in the hallways and in the classes you have shared, you never thought that under all those baggy clothes, he was this ripped. Let us not forget the tattoos that decorate the smooth expanse of skin.

Your eyes which were busy checking him out, snap up to meet his, when you hear him speak.

“Oh, it’s you.”

You notice the red cheeks and shy downcast gaze, as he refuses to meet your eyes. You immediately take the opportunity to have the upper hand.

“Yes, it’s me Jeon,” you say with a coy smile. “You sure know how to make an impression.”

“N-I-I didn’t know—I mean you are right on time.”

You understand that Jungkook had assumed that you wouldn’t show up. That you were way too cool to get tutored and admit that you needed help.

You smirk. “I’d have come earlier had I known this was how you were planning to greet me.”

Jungkook blushes even harder but refuses to acknowledge your words. “Please come in.”

With an amused smile still lingering on your lips, you walk inside his house.

“You can go upstairs, I’ll just put up a shirt and join you,” Jungkook still refuses to meet your gaze, the fact that he’s half naked, making it impossible for him to match your gaze.

“Sure,” you respond with a small giggle as you think you have the entire situation under control. You don’t have to worry about embarrassing yourself if you keep turning Jungkook into a flustered mess.

With a bullet-proof plan and a small smirk, you head upstairs.

#jungkook x reader #Jungkook smut #Jungkook fluff #Jungkook au #Jungkook scenarios #Jungkook ff #Nerd Jungkook #Popular reader #Jungkook pwp #jungkook oneshot #Jungkook drabble #Fic: deep learning

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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 year ago

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part two to this little thing 'cause i saw these tags on the last part from @stevesjester and actually kicked my feet and giggled about it

After Pretty Boy kissed him, Eddie walked back to the staff break room in a daze.

His slow lumbering gait still managed to scare some folks, though, so that’s a plus.

He opens the door, slowly turns to close it softly, and leans back against it once it is.

“Eddie? You okay?” Comes a voice he’d know anywhere. “Wait, that is you, right? You’re supposed to be Piggy Man tonight?”

Eddie pulls the rubber mask off, making his stomach flip thinking about the last time it was pulled up. You know, ‘cause he’s a sap.

Chrissy takes in his shocked, sweaty face, “Oh my god, you okay? What happened?”

He looks up at his roommate (best friend, sister) in her bloody cheerleader costume, an ironic holdout from their time in high school, and breathes a laugh, “I fell in love.”

“OMG OMG tell me everything right now!!” Chrissy bounces over to him excitedly and pulls him down to the bench of their one (1) break table, a sagging plastic picnic table.

He looks up at her bright happy face and barks out a half hysterical laugh, “I can’t believe you’re this excited about me potentially falling in love with someone I’m literally being paid to scare.”

“Oooh, so they were a runner??”

“Yeah, literally in this case.”

“Start talking, Munson, or I’m going to throw all your guitar picks down the garbage disposal.”

“Okay, okay, Jesus Christ.. Okay, so I did my usual creepy husky voice at him, called him all the usual things,”

“Let me guess, you started with ‘pretty boy’?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause he’s pretty. Duh. Damn was he pretty…”

“Uh huh. And you fell in love with him ‘cause he was pretty?”

“No, no of course not, listen to this:” Eddie sits up straighter in preparation for the story. “I had him backed into a corner, right? The fake gate over in section 2B,”

“Ah yes, of course.”

“Yeah! And when I lunged at him, he caught my arm, and spun me around.”

“Shut. Up.”

“No, never. SO he’s got me backed against the fence, and he–I swear to fucking Jesus H. Christ–lifts my mask up and kisses me.”

Chrissy starts to squeal incoherently. “Eeeeee!!! Shutupshutupshutup!! Holy shit there’s no way this happened!!”

“Look, 100% serious right now; he kissed me stupid, and spun around and booked it again.”

“Pretty Boy distracted you with a kiss to escape!?! I cannot believe this, c’mon..” Crissy grabs ahold of his arm again and pulls him out of the breakroom with her insane unchecked leftover cheer squad strength.

“Whoa, what? Where’re we going?? He’s probably gone by now! I was standing over in 2B like an idiot for a while after he left!!”

“Not that, we gotta go see Argyle.”

“Argyle why—ohhh shit. Oh my god, you think they caught it on camera?” Eddie’s actively following her now.

The two burst into the warehouses’ security office, where they’re met with the backs of two ‘zombie’ guards (and the leftover smell of weed).

“Argyle, Jonathan, you need to look at something for us,”

“Is it the footage of Eddie’s makeout sesh in 2B? ‘Cause we’re waaayy ahead of you pompom.”

“Ah!! Holy shit he was telling the truth?!” Chrissy bodies between the two, sending Argyle rolling away on his chair, and Jonathan staggering back a step.

“Dude, that’s so cool of your boyfriend to come to the haunt, keepin’ us in business.” Argyle directs at Eddie, though still spinning slowly in his chair.

“He’s not my–you thought he was my boyfriend?”

“Yeah man, why else would you look at him like that.” Jonathan points down at the screen.

Chrissy re-winds it again and Eddie watches himself charge forward at Pretty Boy (damn, he’s still pretty though this grainy footage too, how the fuck is that possible??), get spun and–oh shit, they’re right.

“Oh Jesus Christ.” he hangs his head into his hands, falling down into Jonathan’s previously abandoned chair.

“Sooo…he’s not your boyfriend..?”

Chrissy re-winds the footage again. Squeals happily.

“Nope. Just met him tonight.”

“Wow dude, that’s like, love at first sight if I ever saw it.”

She re-winds it again, squeals.

“Yeah I know, it’s embarrassing as shit, alright?” Eddie’s still talking into his palms.

Chrissy snorts at that, “Not for you! Well..kinda..but him too, did you not see that pause?”

“...What pause?”

His question goes unanswered as Jon and Argyle move back in over Chrissy’s shoulders and after a few seconds both “Ohh…” in sync.

“The fuck’re you talking about?”

“Look,” She re-winds the tape once again and points, “Watch after he lifts your mask.”

So he does, and..okay, there was a pause.

“...So?”

“He totally fell in love with you at the same time you did him. Fell with him. With each other?”

“You both fell in love at the same time.” Chrissy says what Jonathan was trying to. “We have GOT to find this guy somehow.”

Chrissy records the footage on the screen with her phone, intending to post it online to find the guy, but Argyle’s positive he’s gonna show back up tonight.

“Give him a chance, pompom, he’s totally in love too, remember?”

“Fine, but if he doesn’t come back today, I’m posting this. Maybe it’ll get us some more business too.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Eddie asks, already knowing the answer.

“No.” Yep, there it is.

So, he rolls his eyes, puts his mask back on, and finishes out the night like everything is normal and he didn’t just fall head over fuckin’ heels for a random (hot) stranger earlier.

He’s done for the night before Chrissy since she’s got a lot of that fake blood to try and wash off, so he grabs up his stuff and heads out the front, intending to wave bye to Gareth at the front counter before braving the frigid late fall wind to warm up his car (and move it closer to the entrance so Chrissy doesn't have to walk in the cold).

“See ya Ed,” Gareth calls, and he waves over his shoulder at him as he passes, his attention pulled to a blonde with a choppy bob looking in through the glass of the door, partially silhouetted by the bright ass headlights of a shiny Tesla parked behind her.

He can see the shadow of someone in the driver seat too, as he gets closer and opens the door for her, their face only partially lit up through the tinted glass by the glow of a phone screen.

She starts rambling off immediately after the door is open. “Oh my god, I thought we were too late and you were closed and I completely didn’t even realize I’d left something here when we were here earlier an–”

“Nope, no worries, ma’am, just go talk to Gareth at the front counter and he can tell you if someone turned in…whatever it is you left here.”

She says her thanks and scoots past him, and he spins quickly towards the side lot where his old Neon is parked.

He glances back when he hears the bell chime over the door, a bit delayed (probably the wind holding it open), and sees that the Tesla’s stopped beaming their headlights into the front door, that’s nice of them.

He unlocks his car and gets in, turning the engine over and cranking the heat as high as it’ll go. Once the engine stops it’s signature ‘I’m cold as fuck rn, don’t even try to move me’ rattle, he drives to the front door to wait for Chrissy, pulling in next to the burgundy Tesla.

He scrolls down TikTok for a couple minutes before a banner pops up on his screen

Chris C.: oh my holy fucking shit eddie, get your ass back inside!

Panicking, he races back in through the door, not even bothering to shut off his engine (or close his car door for that matter), thinking shiny Telsa duo is like, robbing the place or something, but as soon as he gets back in, he’s stopped dead in his tracks.

His heart’s still beating a mile a minute, but now with nerves.

Because standing infront of the counter are Chrissy (who’s actually vibrating with excitement), choppy blonde, and…

Oh fuck.

No way.

“H–hi, hi. I’m Steve, you’re Eddie right?”

He can’t help the grin that splits across his face. “Hey, pretty boy.”

thanks to @henderdads for rightfully pointing out that modern day rich boy steve would probably have a tesla <3

tagging everyone i saw in the tags of the last post that seemed interested in more/wanted to see the aftermath lmao: @bangarangdarling, @tartarusknight, @kas-eddie-munson, @wormdebut (AMAZING url btw), @vecnuthy, @perseus-notjackson, @homosexual-having-tea, @matchingbatbites, @scarcrossdlvrs, @anzelsilver, @auroraplume, @kkpwnall, @wildwildsoul, @bennys-burgers, @steveharringtonssluttywaist

#steddie #st #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington x eddie munson #st ficlet #steddie ficlet #platonic hellcheer #chrissy cunningham #jonathan byers #argyle #gareth emerson #modern au #noelle writes

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sazwritesstuff · 3 months ago

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Truth or Dare | bob x reader drabble

synopsis: a night down at the Hard Deck with the Dagger Squad. Drinking, playing pool, trying to stop Rooster from playing Great Balls of Fire one more time, and Bob feeling shy and staying on the sidelines. Until he’s roped into a drunken game of truth or dare.

word count: 1025

inspired by this post

use of Y/N, dn reader, nervous Bob, alcohol (brief mention), drinking games

It was a fairly typical night down at the Hard Deck. Drinking, playing pool, Rooster trying to get his hands on the piano but being constantly pulled back down into his seat.

There were only so many times any of you could listen to Great Balls of Fire.

It didn’t take long before the squad began playing drinking games. You weren’t sure who suggested playing a game of truth or dare. But here you were, sipping on your drink and listening to your squadmates playing a classic from your teen years.

Most of you had been drinking for a few hours now. Well, expect for Bob.

The poor spectacled man had been strong armed into playing by Phoenix. He’d been quite happy watching the game of pool between Payback, Bagman, Coyote and Fanboy sipping on his water and munching on his snacks. But he couldn’t say no when you joined in, backing up Phoenix to get him to play with the rest of them.

Setting down a new round of shots you’d picked up from the bar, quickly passing them around, Rooster cleared his throat and called out “So, Y/N?” from where he stood by the pool table, shot in hand.

“Yeah?” you called back standing between Hangman and Coyote.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Alright, alright.” He paused looking around the group as if for inspiration before whipping his back dramatically towards you. “I dare you to kiss the hottest person here.”

Shrugging, trying to act nonchalant, “Hey Hangman?” you asked, turning to the man beside you. Bob felt his heart drop into his stomach. He hadn’t thought that you’d pick him but it still hurt seeing you chose Jake.

Jake smirked cockliy, “Yeah?”

“Could you move I’m trying to get to Bob?” the smirk dropped instantly from Jake’s face.

“Bob?!” he asked at the same time as Bob choked and spat out the mouthful of water he’d just sipped. “W-What?” he spluttered.

Y/N sighed good-naturedly, patting him on the shoulder, “Now, move out of my way Bagman.”

Jake raised one hand to his chest “You wound me, Y/N! I thought what we had was special.” Stepping aside as he quickly downed the shot in his other hand.

As you stepped closer, Bob gulped nervously and sliding his glasses up his nose to avoid your eyes.

No way this was real. No way could you think he was the hottest person in the room. This had to be some sort of practical joke… right?

But you were still moving closer to him. One second you were sliding past Hangman and the next you were standing in front of him. “Hi.” You greeted quietly.

“Hi.” Bob breathed, his heart hammering in his chest a mile a minute. Palms sweaty he tried to wipe them on his thighs. Mouth dry, his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. Everything had turned into a blur. Everything except you.

“Is it alright if I kiss you?” you whispered to him, your own heart hammering, your own palms sweaty and your mouth feeling dry. You licked your lips. Bob followed the motion of your tongue and swallowed loudly. Not sure what to say other than “Yeah.” as he nodded, his voice sounding unsteady to his own ears. Without hesitation you swooped in and kissed him softly on the lips. It was short and sweet. Over before it could truly begin. But that didn’t stop it from being met by a chorus of catcalls and cheers.

You quickly sat yourself down on a stool on Bob’s right side. He didn’t take his eyes off you as you sat and downed the shot still clutched in your hands. You wiped your mouth the back of your hand before setting your shot glass down.

“Right,” you stated, slapping your thighs “Javy; truth or dare?”

“Uh, dare.” He answered quickly.

“I dare you-”

“Hold up, hold up.” Jake interrupted “Are we really going to just gloss over Y/N kissing Bob?”

“Well, if you want to know why you’ll just have to wait your turn.” Turning back to Javy you started again.

The game carried on a few more rounds, until Rooster tried to make a break for the piano again. Everyone seemed to have forgotten you and Bob sitting off to the side, the game now seemingly finished.

Despite your earlier burst of confidence, you had no idea what to do now that you and Bob were alone without the others or the game to act as a buffer.

Bob cleared his throat breaking the silence that had descended over the two of you.

“So, um, about earlier…”

“I-I know. Just-Just, um, forgot about it.” Feeling nervous and a little bit worried the reason why Bob hadn’t said a single word since you kissed him was because he didn’t feel comfortable about what had happened. You didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable and were mentally kicking yourself.

“What if I don’t want to forget it?” he asked quietly, turning to look intently into your eyes. “Because I know that if I’d been dared the same thing I would’ve kissed you, Y/N.”

“Oh.” You breathed as your face flushed with heat. Then a light bulb went off in your mind and a devious smile spread on your face. “Well then Bob, truth or dare?”

“Dare.” He answered lightning fast.

“Then I dare you to –” you didn’t even get to finished before his lips were on yours.

Bob’s hands cupping your jaw as his soft lips descended on yours. The kiss started off gentle until you brought your hands up to grab a hold of the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. Crushing your chest to his. Your mouth opening with a small gasp and you felt his tongue licking lightly at your bottom lip asking for entry. You open your mouth just a little more, letting Bob slip his tongue inside. His hands had moved to wrap around your waist pulling you practically on to his lap.

Moving away reluctantly from Bob, feeling a little lightheaded. You could feel his lips against your as you whispered “So, your place or mine?”

#top gun maverick #top gun #fanfic #top gun fanfiction #bob x reader #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #short fic #i wrote this like 2 years ago and found it in my drafts

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flos-obsessivus · 3 months ago

Note

What if the advisor reader was a veteran? Like a past knight or footsoldier but due to an injury (minor or major) they decided to continue their service but as an advisor?

Since young, he had been admiring you from the windows of the castle overlooking the training field. Leaned against the clear window, sighing dreamily at your sweaty body and defined muscles. Oh what he would do just to touch them. Even his old advisor nor his parents could pry him away from seeing your form overpowering your opponent, goodness, how strong you are! He wishes that it was him pinned underneath you, he would gladly let you dominate him. He would even compare you to the knight in shining armour that his books often talk about.

From time to time he would see you run around with your squad, but most of the time you are dedicated to your craft, he would often catch you at night still at the field repeatedly swinging a sword at a dummy until the moon is at it's peak. You are so devoted to being a knight that it was hard for him to catch your attention outside polite nods and a bow.

When the time comes that he is able to visit places outside the castle, it's no wonder that it's you that the general always chooses to accompany him everytime he comes to visit the town. Though, your sharpened skills isn't the only thing that convinced his parents, he also had to beg for them to choose you.

It's no secret that Lilian has many admirers, as the beloved crown prince of the Rosen kingdom, he is bound to encounter colourful personalities all across the kingdom. Of course, he is not safe from those who wants a piece of him to take back home.

That's where you step in, as the assigned knight of the prince, his knight in shining armour. You quickly grabbed the arm of the offending party, throwing him away from the both of you. However, he wasn't the only one targeting the prince. Another guy appeared behind Lilian, brandishing a knife. He swung to hit him but you quickly put yourself in between them, getting slashed on your side instead of the prince.

You swiftly disposed of the attackers, slashing their throats and spilling blood all over your skin and clothes. You look so hot drenched in blood. But you had another problem on your hands, when you turn to assess the prince's well-being, you find him hyperventilating. Worried, you of course approach to calm him down, thinking it was due to him witnessing a traumatizing shight, but a jolt of pain stopped you. He noticed your hesitation and ran up to you, dragging you to lay down as he tries to help.

He doesn't know what to do though and he hyperventilates even more when he realizes he can't help you. Your warm hand grasping onto his forearm snapped him back to reality, you had to take over and guide him into putting pressure on the wound.

'Forgive me for staining you with my blood,' you would say, and he responds with a simple 'I cannot let you die...', odd considering the wound was shallow at best. Perhaps this was due to the fear of having to see another person die in front of him, he has always been kindhearted.

Half of it is true. Yes he fears of you dying in his arms, but on the other he was glad that the person who hurt you is now dead, just to the side of him with his neck sliced open with the blood now turning cold. If it was up to him he would have let the filth live just so he can lock him up in the dungeons to get tortured everyday until he succumbs to his injuries. Lilian should have been worried when his kindness turns into cruelty once it concerns you.

Once help finally arrives, he is quickly brought back to the castle where he agonizes your recovery and laments at the fact because of him you were hurt. When the sun sets and the moon rises, he finally settled on a heartbreaking decision. He would relieve you of your duty as a knight.

And so that night, you are his knight in shining armor no more. His knight who protected him with the same sword he now hangs on the wall across his bed, the same knight who once stood alone in the field to train until they collapse in exhaustion, the same knight who... Who now stands in front if him bearing not a sword but a pen, his knight who bows politely before introducing themselves as his new advisor, his knight whose devotion to the crown he shouldn't have underestimated.

#I honestly didn't mean for this to become a fic #i dont know the word count is but I assume around 700 #Forgive me if there are errors as im using my phone and I wrote this at 3 am #I do not have the energy to proofread this #yandere male #yandere oc #yandere prince #yandere x reader #yandere x you #asks #lilian oc #yandere

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fairykazu · 7 months ago

Text

the battle for the bill with gaming masterlist ++ cw: friends to lovers, pining, first date

it was his first ever date with you, at a dim sum restaurant that recently opened in liyue harbor. he spent like weeks just planning one date just because he was nervous on how you would react or reject him. he had to ask other people for opinions or eavesdrop on your conversations with your friends on what kind of guy you like.

but instead of spiraling even further, thankfully, he let his friends sway him to believe that you like him or believe the fact you like him back in a form of manifestation.

maybe it worked because you agreed to the date with no questions asked.

gaming was so chill about it and everything. he just casually mentioned that he finished his kung-fu practice and that he booked something, and it was an invitation only.

it was during the afternoon or rather, a couple hours until the reservation’s time was up. the day was windy but when he saw you, it gently danced around you and the leaves that were up in his face were just flying atop of your head, not even hitting you in the face.

(and mind you, this is not overly exaggerated… the source? gaming.)

“so, how did you accidentally book for two?” you asked as you stared into his brown eyes, making him nervous by the second.

“i was supposed to go with my uncle but since you're here with me, wanna come with?” gaming said with a wink. it was more like a nervous twitch than the flirty wink but hopefully you took it the other way.

you looked at him as if you thought he was lying. he swore he could feel himself getting more dizzy as his palms got more clammy. are hands supposed to be this sweaty? maybe the archons shouldn’t have given him a pyro vision because clearly, he’s meant for the hydro one. “sure. when is it?”

holy shit, he didn’t even think about it even working. he sputtered out, “it’s a date! i mean, date, six! i mean! ohmygod. new dim sum place at six, you're pretty. it’s a, uh, friend thing!”

you laughed in response. maybe you were tricking him into a prank where you totally accept and ditch last minute. or even, you were laughing at him not with him and you are planning to talk behind his back or something. he knows you wouldn’t have done that but the idea of rejection is catching up to him. “see you on the date, gaming.”

you walked off and the wind hit him in the face again. but it didn’t even bother him this time because oh my god, it worked. he meant, of course it worked! manifestation is real. “oh my god. thank you, morax, thank you all the archons for this luck. i thank you.” he got on his knees and started to cry. then he quickly got up because too many people were looking at him and he was getting a tad embarrassed at what he just did.

and of course, he had a plan:

step one: act like a gentleman, and you will instantly be swooned by his charms. (plan created by liyue squad . . . call 555-LUV-CUPIDS for advice on looove! ).

he really tried but you managed to be one step ahead of him. he picked you up in a kar, a new invention from fontaine that just dropped in liyue. he quickly opened his door, sliding across the bonnet of the kar, an audible squeak was heard from the inside of the car.

you watched him roll off the car, he brushed off the dust off his clothes just before he opened your door, his hair, once slicked back, was back to his normal fluffiness. “for you, my lady.” he said, in a formal tone. he tried to practice a fontainian accent but it did not go as well as he thought he did. xinyan pointed out he sounded more mondstadtian-ist-something than french.

you laughed, it was elegant and pretty and he swore his knees turned into jelly, he stiffly got up, teeter tottering away from the car. “ahem, shall we?” he extended his hand to you and you accepted it.

you were glowing. you looked stunning in your dress and maybe he says this a lot in his head. but if you were walking down the sidewalks, he would see you, get blinded by your beauty and crash his kar into a building. his cause of death? you but he’d be grateful because his last image before he died was seeing you.

“gaming, you ready?”

“born ready… i mean, of course, i am. c’mon lets go.” when he was about to open the door for you, you held it open, “shall we?”

“haha, we shall.”

the waiter welcomed ga-ming into the restaurant, escorting the both of you to your table.

you leaned into him, it was so close! did he appreciate it? yes, he really did. he liked the smell of your perfume. it was very jasmine like, floral and pretty. can you even smell the word, “pretty”? yes and it was you.

“gaming, i thought you said this was a new place and that you haven’t tried it yet?” you asked as he froze up. he had to be dragged by you to the table.

(note to past gaming, from future gaming: he didn’t say all that. YOU WERE LYING!!!)

“uh, surprise?”

he felt his time come, this is what he was made for. the gentleman, the best way to swoon someone by pulling their chair out for them. he was ready. he could feel the angelic spotlight shining on his shoulders as he reached for the chair. he remembered what he was supposed to say, “for you?” or “cmon sit down.” or… something like that.

shit, did he forget his training?

but you beat him to it, you pulled out a chair for him, tilting your head to him. instead of protesting, he sat down immediately. he didn’t put up a fight at all.

he cringed.

it was pitiful! he was like a dog!

he was so going to get you back for this.

totally.

(...not!)

step two: flirting !!!

gaming blinked at his friends who somehow pulled a blackboard from the closet. “what do you mean by, “flirt” with them?” he asked as xiangling pointed with a ruler,

“well, you know, just flirt with your natural charm.” the swordsman bursted out laughing, wiping a tear off his face. eyes still watery, xingqiu quipped back,

“if he had natural charm, you’d think he’d be with them by now.”

gaming scrunched up his face, burying his face into the pillows. muffled, “i do! i mean, i am going to charm them!”

xinyan sat next to him, he scooted more into the pillow. if he tried to scoot more, he’d roll into the cushion. “gaming, just serenade her.” she made a strumming motion as he sighed, “i don’t think i have that skill set.”

xiangling added, “don’t be a buzzkill, i see how they look at you, i think you’re fine.”

“if anything, just manifest it.”

gaming threw the pillow from his face, hitting xingqiu in the process, ignoring the blue haired guy storming to him with two pillows in both hands. “you’re right! i’ll manifest it.”

he tried his best to remember his lessons of how to know to flirt or whatever but he forgot already. he stammered, “so the weather am i right?” he wanted to kill himself. if he was able to clone himself, he’d kill the other in a heartbeat. he laughed nervously as you smiled,

“pretty cool. gaming, do you have any recommendations from this place? or does xiangling know you’re betraying her by going to this place?” you asked. it’s true, when xiangling was planning this date with the crew, she mourned the location of the date not being at wanmin restaurant.

“i like the xiao long bao with the pork but we can switch out the meat if you like or really, we could go the vegetable ones. yes, xiangling knows and she thinks i'm a traitor.” gaming said with a dejected sigh, making you giggle.

yes! side quest accomplished.

“that’s disappointing, gaming, why didn’t we go to wanmin restaurant?” you asked despite knowing the full reason why. everytime you encountered anyone from the liyue squad, there was always a kamera flash in the corner and somehow it’s always xingqiu. gaming nervously laughed, pulling his collar from his neck,

“well, you know how they are, i think, they’d fangirl or something.”

you laughed again and everyday he thanks the archons to let him live in this generation because then he could see you everyday. “like that group?”

gaming’s face dropped as you laughed a little harder, “sorry, sorry, i was just messing with you.”

the brunette laughed it off too despite his whole demeanor tensed up in fear, “gee, if you’re going to do that, give me a warning ahead of time.” he quickly grabbed the glass of water, sipping on the straw.

you tilted your head, “it wouldn’t be just as fun then, i like how cute your expressions are.” he started to choke midway drinking his water, you quickly rose out of your seat and patted him on the back.

he swallowed, “thank you?” he hoped his blush wasn’t noticeable. unfortunately it was, his blush spread to the tips of his ears.

“of course!”

gaming devised a new plan, he called it, screw the hundred step plan by the cupids. he will just go with the flow! well, actually, he’d go for step number ten: pay for the meal. after you two finished dinner, you were getting your wallet from your bag but gaming stopped you, “allow me.” he fished out his lion shaped pouch from his pockets.

“i’ll pay for the bill, gaming, it’s fine.” you insisted as he declined your offer. grabbing your bag and slinged around his body. “name, i took you out, it’s my treat. you can pay me back next time.”

“sorry but our schedules don’t always line up perfectly like this, gaming. you know this so you should just let me pay for our meals. it’s not much.”

“you shouldn’t go out of your way to pay for the meal! and look,” he gestured to your bag, wallet still in it. “you don’t have mora on you, so i’ll go pay.” he raised his hand up, getting the bill.

“i have a card.”

“name, really, i can pay. you can pay me next time, okay?” he tried to bargain with you but you kept going. luckily, he built over defense about paying the bill for years. ��don’t play that game with me, gaming. it’s okay, i can pay.”

“oh my god, name, is that international pop idol, robin?” gaming shouted as you whipped your head around. “where!”

he quickly sneaked out of the table, tip toeing to the front. despite being out gentleman’d by his date, you have won the battle but he will win the war. until he saw a familiar figure in front of him, paying for the meal already, he dropped to his knees.

internally screaming no in his heart, a mighty soldier has fallen and it was him. the one who betrayed his love and out-gentleman's him, was you. he didn’t even know how you did it. are you secretly related to sonic the hedgehog?

he wouldn’t mind actually… that’s besides the point. how did you even… ? (he was actually tiptoeing and you just sped past him).

“gaming, c’mon, get up.” you said, lending a hand. nevermind, all is forgiven, he is holding your hand right now. thank you, gods, i have lived. one day i will live again when i meet them in every universe and slash or life. “i paid already.”

“how?”

“magicians don’t reveal their secrets.” you replied with a smile. just before gaming was going ask to elaborate, you quickly kissed his lips.

he melted into it, only standing still and shaking as he held up a thumbs up. "okay!"

#astronetwrk #gaming x reader #ga ming x reader #ga ming #ga-ming x reader #genshin fic #genshin fluff #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin gaming x reader #genshin gaming #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fanfics #gender neutral reader #fluff #genshin impact fluff

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pennylanewrites · 1 year ago

Text

[all for you] levi ackerman x f!reader

part 2 to used to be my girl

cw + what to expect: angst, cheating, near-death experience, slight gore, erwin shows his true colours, erwin’s a piece of shit in this actually, unprotected sex, flat-doggy position, light anal play, creampie

a/n: this part isn’t as smut revolved as the last one sorry about that i’m just sad and wanted to make everyone else sad too

you had promised yourself that you wouldn’t go near levi ever again, after the night of the gala. you couldn’t even look erwin in the eyes; not that he noticed. he never did.

“stop teasing me,” you groaned, flipping your head back to look at him from behind your shoulder. he only grinned at you.

he had your cheeks spread open, popping the head of his cock in your pussy just to pull out again. he was driving you crazy.

“why’d you take so long to come back?” his voice came out whiny and you could die right then and there. “dear husband didn’t let you leave your room?”

“stop it.” you hid your head in the pillow. “i hate you.”

levi licked his thumb and popped it in your back hole, making you arch your back and moan softly as he thrusted into you. the double stimulation had you in a chokehold. you remember the first time he tried that on you like it was yesterday. you still had the same reaction.

levi leaned on your back as he pushed his cock deeper, and searched for your hand on the headboard. you weren’t wearing your ring, he noticed, and squeezed your hand tight.

“missed you.” you admitted, turning your head to the side to look up at him. a particularly hard thrust was his way of saying, missed you too.

he kept a fast pace, and you were coming before you knew it, squeezing him tight as you came down from the high. levi slipped his hands between your body and the mattress, groping your breasts, teasing your nipples. you moaned his name in pleasure, feeling him twitch inside of you.

he slid his hand down, playing with your clit as he thrusted right into your g-spot. he could feel you cream around his cock, his fingers were sticky with your wetness. god, you were so hot.

“levi, i’m coming, i’m coming, i love you, fuck!” his pace faltered, and he pulled out. he flipped you on your back before you could protest, and slid back into your slit. your walls fluttered around him and precum mixed with your juices made a wet patch on the sheet.

“i’ll fill you up, fuck, can-can i?” you had never seen him that desperate. you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him down for a sloppy kiss.

“please.” you whispered into his mouth.

“i love you too.” he leaned down to whisper in your ear as warm ropes of cum filled your cunt, “fuck.” he pulled out and watched as his cum slowly oozed out.

he looked up at you with a grin and placed both your legs over his shoulder, so your thighs were shut. he licked his index and middle finger and slowly entered your pussy, pushing all of his cum back into you.

he was so hot. when did he learn to do that?

“i want you full of my seed, always.” he leaned down to kiss you before falling next to you on the bed.

you were sore, you were full, you were sweaty. but it felt so good, even as you wobbled to the bathroom as to not make a mess.

“don’t leave.” levi’s voice was shaky. after you finished cleaning yourself up, you came out with a damp towel. you wiped his sweaty forehead, then his neck and his torso. he looked up at you, eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip barely sticking out.

you got under the blanket and threw your arm over his stomach. he wrapped his own around your shoulders and you rested your head against his chest.

“i’m so scared for tomorrow.” you admitted. you had a bad feeling about this expedition ever since erwin announced it a month ago.

“miche and erwin would have come back already if it was dangerous.” levi didn’t just say that to calm you down. he was right. erwin, miche and two squads were camping out the night before to scout the location.

you sighed and wiped away a stray, frustrated tear. levi noticed you were crying. he knew it wasn’t just about the expedition. the past two months had been hard on you. guilt about levi was eating you from the inside out, but you also couldn’t help feel…betrayed that erwin couldn’t spend a single moment with you, after making you his fiancée. you were slowly breaking.

levi wrapped his other arm around you to place you on top of him. gray eyes looked up in search for yours, and you’re fucking smiling. you look so pretty, he thought.

“promise me something.”

“anything.”

“if we both come back alive, leave him.”

he was being selfish. he had no right being selfish in this situation.

“okay.” you smiled softly and kissed his beautifully bruised lips. it was all going to be okay.

it was going so well, just like erwin had planned. one abnormal titan had been captured for research and you were in search for another one. hange was way too picky. ‘this one is too short!’ ‘this one is not abnormal enough, miche!’ ‘ew, that one is even uglier than the rest.’

“hange, just fucking pick one! we can’t be here for long!” they were driving everyone crazy, and truly, you were getting tired. levi grabbed hange’s hair and pulled her in, whispering something in their ear. hange pulled back with an empty smile.

“okay. let’s…let’s get that one.” they pointed at the titan coming your way. oh, you had him. it had been way too long without an expedition and the adrenaline was kicking hard. you used your gear to get higher ground on top of a tree and waited to pounce.

snap.

you could feel your ribs getting crushed one by one, but you couldn’t scream. you couldn’t move.

crunch.

was that your leg? did the fucking titan just bite your leg? oh god, you’re going to die.

“where the fuck did that come from?”

“get the nape!”

you could hear levi faintly, he was saying that everything will be fine. you got this, baby, you’re okay.

and you were on the ground. a loud thud indicated that the titan that captured you was dead.

your leg was manged. blood turned the green grass red and you felt so dizzy. i’ll just lie down.

“no, no!” levi slapped your face. hard. you were awake, yeah, you felt…nice.

“everyone retrieve! this is your commander’s order!” erwin roared and you could hear horses running in the distance, edm gears swooshing over you.

“carry her with your gear.” you could faintly see levi and erwin looming over you. hange was bandaging what could be saved of your leg. someone was taking your shirt off to bandage your ribs.

“she’ll keep us behind. hange, stop. there’s no time to bandage her!”

“are you fucking serious? she’s going to die.”

“we’ll send a rescue team when we get back.”

“she’s going to die.” levi repeated.

erwin kneeled before you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“you were an incredible soldier, an immense help to the survey corps.” he patted your back. “i’m relieving you of your duty.”

he’s not serious. he’s joking. right?

you were dozing off on hange’s shoulder. you had no idea what they were saying to you. you just wanted to sleep.

“i’m going to fucking kill you.” levi punched erwin right between the eyes. miche tried holding him back, because levi would actually kill him. “that’s your fucking fiancée. and you’re going to leave her for dead? we can carry her back, erwin!”

“erwin, levi’s right. we can’t leave y/n here.” hange was pouring water on your face and in your mouth, but you couldn’t swallow. you couldn’t even breathe.

“if any of you try carry her, you’ll be eaten. you are all to leave now. this is an order.” you heard edm gear over your head, indicating that erwin was gone.

levi was crying. god, you could hear him sobbing, and you couldn’t move. couldn’t hold him, tell him you were okay.

“i can’t leave her here, hange!” you could spot hange hugging levi from the corner of your eye, helping him up on his feet.

“you won’t. fuck erwin and his dumb dedication of the heart. you take her, i’ll let the nurses know.” hange and miche left. you and levi were all alone in a forest filled with titans.

you brought your hand out, searching for levi. you felt his shoulder, his neck, his face. you stopped there.

“i’m so sorry.” you coughed out. levi was horrified when blood came out of your mouth.

“shh. just don’t fall asleep.”

everything else was a blur. you could remember nurses over you, hange fighting with them, levi holding your hand. and erwin. erwin taking your hand in his and placing that damned ring on your finger.

“levi?” you tried sitting up, but a piercing pain in your sides kept you lying down. it was dark, but you could smell him. you could feel him next to you.

“don’t move. i’ll get the nurse.” you were asleep again when levi and the nurse came back. a doctor was right behind them, your chart in his hands.

“you gave us a good scare, miss l/n.” the doctor took your temperature before taking your bandages off to inspect your injuries. “your ribs seem fine, except for some light bruising. your leg, however…”

you looked down at your leg. it looked…ugly. there was a big red mark, partially healed, and you could make out sunken marks from the titan’s teeth on your thigh. you tried moving it. horrified, you realised you couldn’t.

“just give it to me straight.”

“it will take more than a year for you to get feeling back in all of your leg, but with the right therapy…we can make it work.” the doctor side-eyed levi almost terrified. you could only imagine the things he said and did while you were unconscious.

“and if it doesn’t, you know, work?”

“it’s up to you if we cut it off or keep it. most patients decide to keep it, but in my opinion, it’s just dead weight.” some tears escaped your eyes, but you wiped them off quickly.

“thank you, doctor. can we get her something to eat and drink?”

“only liquids for a few weeks. i’ll bring soup.” the nurse rushed off with the doctor hot on her heels.

levi rushed to the chair by your side. you noticed a blanket, five books, two empty cups of tea.

“how long-”

“three months. you were in and out of a coma for most of the time, but the past week you were…you looked…”

“i’m alive.” you reminded him, and the scared look on his face faded away. he helped you drink some water, carefully lifting the glass for you to take small sips.

your left hand felt heavy. you looked down and your heart dropped. you were not wearing this the day of the expedition, that much you remember.

“where is he?” you took the ring off and rolled it around your palm.

“it’s 2 in the morning, y/n. you can talk to him tomorrow.”

“i want to talk now. get him for me, please?”

levi didn’t have to take any more steps, because as soon as he opened the door to the infirmary, erwin barged in. the ravenette silently stepped out, giving you some much needed privacy.

“good, you’re awake. the doctor said it would take you more than a year to walk again.” erwin stood above you. you could kill him right then and there.

“yeah.”

“so, i’m officially relieving you of your duty. you’re free to leave the survey corps whenever you are able to.”

“what the fuck? i’m not leaving.”

“you’re injured, practically handicapped.”

“i’ll do office work.”

“l/n, i gave an order.”

“you piece of shit. you only left me there because you wanted to get rid of me.” erwin facepalmed.

“you’re tired, we can talk-”

“shut up and listen. i was very patient with you, but you are such an emotionless piece of garbage. how does it feel to live such an empty life, huh erwin? how does it feel that your fiancée had to run behind your back to another man because you couldn’t even kiss her?” erwin grabbed your hair and pulled you closer, until you were face to face. you winced at the sudden pull, but you didn’t let the tears fall this time.

“my fiancée is nothing but a whore. you don’t think i knew that when i asked you to marry me? the higher ups said it would do good to the corps’ image if i got a wife. so i chose the easiest one.”

“take this.” you threw the ring in his face and shoved him off you. “you’re giving me an office job until i get back on my feet, or i’ll tell everyone important that erwin smith likes it up the ass.” you grinned when erwin’s face turned red. he stomped out of the room, and you could hear him talk with levi.

you were finally letting all those tears out. you were crying because of erwin, and then you were sobbing because your ribs hurt. and then because your leg looked disgusting and you couldn’t walk, most likely ever.

but levi was coming to you again, furious. he stopped in his tracks when you stared at him with those glossy, red-shot eyes.

“what happened?” you scooted over so he could sit next to you on the twin mattress. he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, the other fixing your mess of hair.

“he’s a piece of shit, levi. he wants to kick me out. where am i going to go?”

“he won’t kick you out.”

“i have nothing outside of here, levi, you know this. this is all i know.” you hid your face in the crook of his neck.

“you’re not leaving. and if you do, i’m coming with you. and so is hange, miche, moblit.”

“what?”

“everyone gave a letter of resignation to erwin, in case he kicked you out.”

“did you threaten them? be honest.” you chuckled.

“just moblit.” he was laughing too. you suddenly noticed his face.

he looked at least 15 pounds lighter; the bags under his eyes were huge, and his cheeks hollow. how long had it been since he had eaten, taken a bath, slept in a bed? you were getting emotional again.

“can you sleep with me? in the bed?”

“we won’t fit. you need the space.”

“levi, please.” you weren’t tired at all. you were basically sleeping for three months. but levi was, he was exhausted. and you couldn’t stand seeing him like that for another second.

“okay.”

okay. everything was okay, at least for a night, at least when levi held you tight and you could hear his heartbeat align with yours. everything was okay because you were staring at the ceiling and levi was snoring softly in your ear.

taglist: @keigoswifee @vallian-lime @moniic444 @arij3lly @nanamochii @denypipa @moonmalice @leviswheelchair1 @sinistersnakey1427 @crazychaoticizzy @mikakayyyy @yegrnn @leviackermanswife17 @kingfleury

#aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #aot x reader smut #levi x reader smut #attack on titan smut #aot smut #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader smut #tw cheating

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octuscle · 5 months ago

Text

Welcome to Overland!

Overland Park in Kansas. I really had to google it first. Where the hell did my father get the idea that I would really study here? I mean, I have offers from Stanford and Cambridge. I'm not going to Overland Park. Kansas! Sure, it might have been a good fit for my dad. My dad is the prototypical corn-fed athlete. He looks dazzling for his 42 years, still a cross so wide that my two younger brothers and I can hide behind it. His mullet is a bit of a show-off, if you ask me. But he seems to go down well with his customers. His car dealership is the biggest in the state. My two younger brothers both have petrol in their blood. They both want to get their MBAs at Overland Park. But I'm much more interested in law. And Harvard would be my dream for that.

Anyway, my father gave me a car for my 18th birthday. A super impractical Dodge RAM. Doesn't suit me at all. And the car came with a gas voucher and a voucher for a mall around the corner. Well, I hope they'll have a Brooks Brothers store. But I'm quietly guessing that they'll only have cowboy boots and plaid shirts… Okay, not to be ungrateful, I'm making the trip to Overland Park in the monster car. I'll also attend his alma mater's orientation event if I absolutely have to. But I'll sign up over my dead body!

The drive to Kansas wasn't so bad. I admit that the car is really huge and comfortable. But the closer I got to the Midwest, the less comfortable I felt. Guys with arms thicker than my legs asked me about the car at gas stations and rest stops. I have no idea how much horsepower it has… I'm not interested either. But here you're obviously only defined by your car. And most of the muscular rednecks here made no secret of the fact that they didn't begrudge me this car. It got even worse when I parked the car in front of the hotel in Overland Park… The valet service looked almost sympathetic when I got out of the car. Tomorrow I'd better take the bus to the information day at the university.

It's incredible how many people are interested in this pathetic campus. It's pretty full in the auditorium. The dean gives a speech that is as boring as the landscape here. And the faculty members either all look like they're coaches of the football team or gardeners on campus. Hillbillies. All of them! The professors introducing each faculty call on the potential juniors who have signed up on the list for that faculty. I didn't put a cross anywhere. All uninteresting for me. And so the auditorium empties out with each professor dragging a train of high school seniors behind him. And at some point, the auditorium is empty. Only three people are still sitting here. A redhead who spends the whole time reading a book. A skinny guy playing with his cell phone and me. I speak to the skinny guy. "No desire to go to Overland Park either?" "Not on your life. I'm not studying thousands of miles from the nearest decent opera." The redhead interjects, "And pretty much everything else you'd call civilization." We laugh and introduce ourselves. Erik, the redhead (how appropriate, I'm not joking), the skinny one is Brayden and I'm Callan. We start talking. Somehow we all have a similar fate. Either our fathers or our brothers studied here. We all have more artistic than sporting interests. We all want to study either in California or New England. Erik suggests that we go out and sit on campus. The weather is nice. It's a good idea. We're sitting in the sun talking when we suddenly hear a voice.

"Hey squad! Finally found you, fam! I've been straight up grinding and hunting all over this place to link up with my homies!" Towards us comes the epitome of everything I loathe about university. An unkempt muscleman, his greasy mullet tamed with a baseball cap on backwards, in a sweaty tank top. Four bottles of beer in his hand. He hands each of us a bottle and says "Yo, yo, yo, what up fam! The name's Ryder, my professor homie spilled the tea that there are three total bros up in here who ain't about that study life, and guess what? Yours truly got the task of keepin' it real with y'all. Haha, I'm the king of slacking off, ain't nobody got time for studying and whatnot. Let's kick back and chill, my dudes!" Ryder stinks of sweat. Disgusting. But somehow also hypnotizing. He opens his bottle and says "Cheers". As if in a trance, we open our bottles and say "cheers".

"Yo, fam, check it out, I'm gonna give you a lit tour of the campus, but not that lame-o typical stuff. Like, forget about the snooze-fest library or whatever. Bro, regular dudes walk in there and walk out looking like they just stepped out of a nerd convention with their thick glasses and wack sweaters. Let's bounce and hit up the real vibes, ya feel me?" Ryder almost chokes with laughter at his own joke, which Erik counters with a fist bump. What the…? "Yo, peep that cafeteria comin' up! It's legit crucial for gettin' in that dank protein intake, ya feel me? And bro, protein is like, the holy grail of gainz. That's the fuel for them epic protein farts, man! Rock on, get that fuel, unleash the beast!" As if on cue, he lets out a fart. Shit, that stinks. Erik laughs. And farts too. Shit, didn't he actually want to study piano? At the conservatory in Boston? Strange behavior for a pianist….

Ryder tells us to wait a minute. He runs into the cafeteria and comes back with four fresh cold bottles of beer. Shit, yes, the beer tastes good. I take a deep swig. And…. BUUUUURP! Ryder and Erik are laughing uproariously. Brayden looks irritated. And I reply ""Yo, it's gonna be, like, forever until those protein farts are unleashed. So, a real dude just gotta let out a mega burp, bro!" Erik and Ryder give me a high five. And Ryder says that he's about to lead us to the source of all protein farts.

You can smell the gym changing rooms before you see them. Erik and I take a deep breath. Brayden holds the sleeve of his jacket in front of his nose. "Yo, bro, it looks like we're getting closer to your second home, huh, Ryder? Watch out for the vibes!" says Erik. Ryder does a double bicep pose and says that Erik can fucking take it. Poor Brayden is standing right next to Ryder. His nose is basically right in the sweaty bush in Ryder's armpit. "Dang, I forgot my gear for the gym! I'm totally itching to pump some iron, man." comes out of his mouth. "Dude, no worries, at our next stop we'll totally score something way cooler for you to rock." says Ryder. "Yo, dude, spit it again - what's your name, pumpin' pal?" Braydon copies Ryder's double bicep pose. I didn't think he had muscles like that. "Yo, my dudes, I'm Beau, like, duh, isn't it obvious? I mean, come on, who else could it be, right? Beau in the hizzouse, representin' like a boss!" The two of them do a chest bump. Erik and I actually look at each other a little enviously. I mean, everyone wants to be best mates with Ryder, the hottest guy on campus.

"Yo, dudes, head to the most lit spot on the whole campus. And watch out! If you think it already smells like sweat and musk, you haven't seen anything yet!" We walk across the student parking lot towards the football field. Past my baby. Ryder raises his eyebrows appreciatively and says that you rarely see cars this cool here. I pose proudly: "Geez, check out this 410 horsepower beast with eight cylinders and 581 Newton meters of torque! My 6.7-liter monster needs that kind of power too. Rocking full leather interior, a massive 12-inch touchscreen infotainment system, and a killer 750-watt sound system with 17 Harman Kardon speakers. Damn, could never roll in a hybrid after this!" Ryder gives me a chest bump too. Shit, I'm in the club!

Erik thaws out when we're finally in the changing rooms of the football stadium. He takes a deep breath. "Yo, peeps! You feelin' me on this? This smell is like pure home vibes, amirite?" he says. Ryder points to the pile of dirty laundry in the corner. "Yo, dudes, wanna toss some balls around? Let's get our sporty vibes on and slay the game with our rad skills! Let's flex our muscles and show off our mad throwing game. Let's get that adrenaline pumping and have a blast on the field. It's gonna be lit, so don't miss out, fam! Let's do this!" He really doesn't have to say that twice. In no time at all, we're undressed and rummaging naked through our clothes for something to pass. Erik deliberately lets his cock swing for a very long time before putting it into an XXL urine and cum yellow jockstrap. Dude, that boy would make horses jealous! And he can impress Ryder. Out onto the pitch and with a well-directed throw he chases the ball the length of the pitch through the goal. Four-chest bump! Shit, we all can't wait to play for the college team!

"Yo homies, any more burning questions for your boy? The sickest crew on campus is definitely mine - Alpha Phi Alpha, baby! Don't stress, you guys are total Alpha bros, so of course you'll get in. If you're down, we're throwing a lit party at the frat house tonight. Crash on the couch if you want, solo, duo, trio… whatever floats your boat. Just remember, never make eye contact, that's like, no homo!" Beau asks where he can get a cold beer now. Rick has a mega boner. And I can't wait to suck him off right away. Unless Ryder beats me to it. Shit, I'm so proud to be a business major at the University of Kansas on the Overland campus. My dad will be even prouder.

"Yo, so you wanna join the sickest crew of all the raddest universities in the damn USA?" I love the information days on campus. Lots of hot fresh meat. And the premium meat belongs to Alpha Phi Alpha, just like us! "Yo, peep this dude with the sickest Mullet ever, that's my bro Beau. And check out the fiery buff dude over there, that's Rick, the top quarterback of the football squad for real. I'm Cletus, and we 'bout to show y'all the raddest spots on campus. But first, in honor of the hottest dude to ever grace this campus, let's crack open a cold one." We take a big sip. And burp "Ryder" loudly!

#male tf #muscle tf #reality change #inked man #tank top #broification #bro tf #jock tf #nerd to jock #nerd to hunk #frat bro

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ashwhowrites · 11 months ago

Note

Billy Hargrove x Cheerleader! Reader, Billy started dating reader 3 months ago, and he found himself jealous everytime someone in the basketball team talked to his girlfriend, he tried to talk to her but she was like, baby they're friends, but Billy didn't like that. They were doing... Activities and someone called to reader's house phone, and Billy found himself angry at that bc it was probably someone from the team. Billy decided to take Reader to Lover's Lake and they spend a good day. But in the week he had to see a lot of boys talking with reader and he went where he never thought, he went to Max for help and she was like don't be dumb, she's your girlfriend (maybe Billy realizes that he's been dumb and apologizes for his actions?)

I miss writing for Billy! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Max?

Billy never saw himself as a jealous person. He knew he was attractive and could get anyone he wanted. If Billy and jealousy were mentioned in the same sentence, it was that someone was jealous of him. He had full confidence in himself and he reminded everyone of that.

But now, he was breathing hard as he watched his "teammates" talk to his girlfriend. The game finished and everyone celebrated. Billy figured he'd be celebrating with his girlfriend in the backseat of his Camaro. Instead, she congratulations Steve Harrington with a bright smile.

Billy yanked off his jersey, using the material to dab off the sweat on his face. He grabbed his bag and threw it on his shoulder. His sneakers squeaked against the gym floor as he walked up to them. He didn't care that they were in the middle of a conversation, he grabbed Y/N's arm and spun her around. Before she could say a word, his tongue was in her mouth. His hands cupped her ass and shoved her against his sweaty body. She moaned as she felt his hard abs under her hands.

Billy opened his eyes to see Steve walking away. Billy smirked into the kiss as he gave Y/N a slap on the ass when Steve looked back.

"Fuck Billy." Y/N quietly moaned against his mouth. Her knees felt weak and she could feel how soaked she was underneath her skirt.

"Shall we celebrate?"

~~~

"Fuck your mouth is so good," Y/N whined, her hands in Billy's curls as his tongue worked inside her cunt. Billy was good at sex, which was well-known. But his oral sex was just as mind-blowing.

She was near orgasm when the phone near her bed rang. She swore Billy's tongue moved faster when she reached for the phone.

"One sec." She said, her eyes meeting Billy's sweet blue as she pushed his head away. He growled but listened. A snarl on his face as she answered the call. He figured it would be one of her friends from the squad but he heard a male voice on the other end.

He moved off her bed and snatched his jacket.

"Where are you going?" She whispered, the other line busy with talking. Billy rolled his eyes.

"Home." He snapped and slammed her bedroom door.

~~~

Billy knew his actions weren't the best, and leaving her there vulnerable wasn't appropriate. But he also didn't feel like he needed to apologize for his behavior....with words.

Instead, they headed up to Lovels Lake, no phones or any way for her attention to be taken elsewhere. The day was romantic and sweet. They had a picnic, went swimming, and made out in the back of his car. She was only focused on him and he loved it. He thought maybe things would stay this way once the weekend was over and they went back to school.

But the second Monday arrived and she jumped out of his car, boys came swarming in to talk to her about their weekends. Billy kept his arm around her but glared at every boy that spoke. He couldn't help the anger that took over. He grabbed Y/N more intensely than he intended, yanking her away from the group as he marched into the building.

"BILLY!" she snapped, the anger in her voice caused Billy to stop in his tracks. He dropped her arm and felt a rush of guilt when he saw the marks he left.

"What the hell is your problem?!" Her arm didn't hurt as bad as it looked. She knew Billy would spiral into a panic about his mark on her, but she felt safe with him and knew he'd never hurt her. "It doesn't hurt. Now tell me what's wrong."

Once Billy felt the relief she wasn't hurt, he tried to focus on why he was so upset. He grabbed her hand gently and kissed her arm. His lips are delicate against the marks he left. He pulled back but kept her hand in his.

"I'm sick of all these guys talking to you! You're my girlfriend! Even our private time gets invaded by those thirsty wolves. They want to fuck you and I can't believe you just let it happen!" Billy said, his anger in the driver's seat as he let anything come out of his mouth.

"Let it happen?" Y/N scoffed, "I'm sorry, I didn't realize that when I was talking with my FRIENDS, I had their dick in my mouth. Thanks for thinking I'm a total slut."

"That's not what I said! Don't put words in my mouth." Billy argued.

"But it's what you insinuating, isn't it? What have I let happen? A simple conversation with my friends. If you can sit here and have the nerve to think I'd ever cheat on you, then you aren't the boyfriend I thought you were. Call me when you get your head out of your ass." She said, turning on her heel. She couldn't believe the way he was acting. She's been loyal, she shut down any advances anyone sent her way. Those guys were her friends and never wanted anything more. Why couldn't he see that?

~~~

Max knew something was instantly wrong when Billy came home, without Y/N, and slammed his bedroom door shut.

Weirdly enough, Billy changed for the better with Y/N around. He seemed happier and got into fewer fights with the family. He almost became an actual brother to Max. And she felt a weird sense of comfort from it.

When Billy was in a mood, Max learned to keep her door shut and not bother being in the same room as him. She assumed it was a fight with Y/N since he was pissed off alone. Another thing Max loved about Y/N, she knew exactly how to keep Billy calm. Ever since her, Billy hasn't made a scene.

Max tried to focus on her comic book as Billy's music blasted through the small house. She rolled her eyes as the small trophies on her dresser began to shake. Her skateboard slammed on the ground as the walls shook. She slammed down her comic, yanking her door open with venom on her tongue. But froze when Billy was already outside her door.

"Can I talk to you?" Max wasn't sure if she should be as scared as she was. Billy never asked to talk. He only talked his feelings out with Y/N. And she couldn't blame him. She also talked her feelings out with Y/N all the time. She had a sense of warmth and a shoulder that was always ready to be leaned on. She brought the deepest emotion out of everyone. She was safe.

"Turn off the music first," Max said, leaving her door open as she sat on her bed. She sighed in relief when the music stopped and she could hear her thoughts again.

"Y/N?" She asked, a knowing look in her eye. She could see Billy's body deflate and a painful look in his eye.

"I fucked up, and like really fucked up." Billy sighed, his fingers picking at the strands of Max's blanket. She was quick to slap his hand.

"What did you do?"

"I keep getting jealous, and when I do I act like an idiot. In some form of words, I kinda made it sound like I couldn't trust her. Which I do! I know she wouldn't cheat on me, but the fear of her finding someone better is so real. Every guy she talks to is better than me. You know? They don't have these anger issues or daddy problems, and they have money. I look worthless next to them." Billy explained. He felt his throat burn and an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

"Billy, listen to what you just said. You think all those guys are better than you, if she thought that why would she be with you? Why would she continue to pick you every time those guys flirt with her? Who cares if they want her, she wants you. Stop being a dumbass and fucking it up. Grossly, girls love you. I'm sure she gets jealous too when those sluts try to hook up with you. But she knows you are hers so she doesn't take it out on you. Don't do that to her. You already have her, you are better than them. And those issues? Not deal breakers for her so quit using it as an excuse to be an asshole. Go apologize, buy her chocolate, and love her." Max said, finishing her rant as she snatched her comic book back open.

Billy smiled and patted her head. He knew what he had to do.

~~~

Y/N blew on her nails as she hummed quietly to the music on her radio. She sighed as another hour passed and no word from Billy. She didn't want to break up, but maybe he did. Maybe he's been wanting to break up and using his outbursts as an excuse.

Her thoughts were interrupted when there was a knock on her window. She smiled as she saw Billy there. Then she quickly remembered she was supposed to be mad at him. She frowned as she walked over to open the window.

He wore a hoodie and sweatpants. His curly hair blew in the wind, and his scent of cigarettes filled her nose.

"I'm sorry. I know I've been an idiot and everything in between. I was a dick to you and you don't deserve that. I got insecure and jealous, and instead of communicating that, I lashed out at you. I trust you, I trust you more than anyone. I'm grateful to have someone as amazing as you to love me and I need to stop fucking it up. I even talked to Max, who will probably murder me if I lose you." Billy chuckled, and Y/N giggled herself.

"Max huh? Must have been desperate to run to your little sister." She teased, Billy smiled, he knew it was a way of her forgiving him.

"Thank you for apologizing. You have been a dick, but I love you anyway. Thank you for taking responsibility. I'm proud of you." She said, leaning over to peck his lips. Billy smiled into the kiss as he kissed her back.

Billy pulled away and handed over the chocolates. Y/N smiled and placed them on her desk. Then she grabbed his hand and brought him inside.

"Now why don't you take that jealousy out in a different way." Y/N winked, her tone seductive as she tugged on his hoodie.

"Gladly."

#billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x cheerleader! reader #billy hargrove angst x reader #billy Hargrove angst #ashwhowrites #billy hargrove request #billy hargrove x female reader

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lovableapocalypse · 2 years ago

Text

feels like

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x fem!reader

wc- 2k

warnings- mentions of pregnancy/being pregnant, vomit/throwing up, like one f bomb, established relationship, i dont think anything else

a/n- reader is a pilot lol. hope you all like it and send me any requests you wanna see!!!!

You were tired of vomit. Tired of the smell, tired of the nausea, and tired of the harsh sting it was leaving in the back of your throat. The past three days you had been pulled to consciousness by your uneasy stomach and ended up over the toilet as your alarm blared from the bedroom.

Bradley has had to leave for training extremely early this week and luckily has missed your ugly morning wake-up call. You’d been subtly avoiding his concerns at work; when you looked queasy after conditioning, when Jake’s body wash scent made you gag, and when you barely touched the coffee he brought you one morning. You played it off as a stomach bug, but your intuition was telling you something completely different.

Thankfully this week had been a zero flight week. You were terrified of flying if your suspicions were accurate, but you were also too scared to take the damn pregnancy test.

As you walked down the hall Friday afternoon, doing your best to avoid everyone, you made a pact with yourself that you would stop by the convenience store tonight. Bradley was staying late to help with new flight curriculum so you’d have the opportunity to do it alone.

Part of you wanted to share this moment with him, but your fear quickly overrode that. You and Bradley had been together for years at this point, ever since your first run at Top Gun. He’s mentioned kids a couple times, but never seriously. Deep down you knew he would accept this and be 100% in it, but your anxiety was on blast and your logical thoughts were nowhere to be found.

You were supposed to be heading to a group meeting, all Dagger Squad members present. Your nausea has been steady all day, and hasn't eased up since you puked your guts up first thing. It’s been miserable and your sweaty, pale complexion are a testament to that. You’re trying your best to take deep breaths as you walk through the humid hallway, but your stomach lurches anyway. You grip the wall nearest to you and clench your eyes shut.

Deep breaths. In and out. You wait for the pain to subside before you start walking again. You slowly enter the conference room, looking around. Last one here, great. You shoot a small smile in apology and head to the empty seat next to Bradley.

He gives you a quizzical look as Maverick begins a spiel about next week's itinerary.

“You okay?” He whispers, brown eyebrows pinched.

You inhale sharply and nod, reaching for his hand to squeeze in reassurance. He squeezes in return and tries his best to keep his attention on Mav, but your squirming is distracting. It’s too hot in this cramped office space. You swear you can feel each person’s body heat radiate off them, making your head spin.

Breaths. Deep freaking breaths. You’re trying to concentrate once again on your breathing as Phoenix asks a question, but everything is muffled and distant. You feel Bradley’s eyes seer into you and your jaw clenches unbearably tight.

This is not happening. You refuse. You’ve made it the whole week without getting sick at work, and you really don’t want your closest colleagues and friends to see you hurl in a tiny trash can. Bradley squeezes your hand tighter trying to grasp your attention, but you just stare ahead and will your body to stop.

Fuck. There’s definitely no stopping it. You shoot to your feet, pulling your hand from Bradley’s, drawing everyone’s attention. You briefly hear Mav ask if you’re alright and your hand quickly shoots to cover your mouth as you stumble to the trash can. Your stomach empties and you cough harshly, bent over the small container. You hear chairs screech and boots on the ground and soon feel a familiar hand slide up your back.

Bradley pulls your hair away from your face with his other hand and continues to rub your back, glancing around the room in concern. Phoenix and Bob shoot him sympathetic looks and Jake’s grimace is clear as day.

Mav makes his way over to you, cautiously, and shouts at Javy to get a medic. You raise your hand and wave at him, trying to refuse. You cough again, “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“You just puked y/n.” Bradley states.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry- just I’m okay now.”

You slowly stand up and Bradley keeps his grip on you, moving you towards a seat. You glance up, cheeks flushing in embarrassment, and see the sympathetic looks sent your way. “Sorry,” You sigh.

Javy returns out of breath with the medic and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Y/n I think you should go get checked out,” Maverick says, “Rooster, why don’t you go with her.” He nods his head towards the door and motions for you, Bradley, and the medic to leave the conference room.

Bradley keeps his grip on your elbow as you walk slowly toward the med bay. The medic is asking you basic questions that you are trying your best to answer as vaguely as possible. When you enter the med area you begrudgingly let the medic take your temperature and check your vitals.

“Everything looks okay. I’d just get some rest and head to urgent care if your symptoms get any worse.”

You’re grateful the medic didn’t mention pregnancy and you nod in appreciation as they exit the small exam area.

Bradley sighs and places his hands on his hips. “Let me take you home, honey. Get some sleep.”

You shake your head, “No Roo it’s okay, I promise. You have to stay late anyway.”

You’re avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat. You’re not sure why you feel so emotional all of a sudden, but with barely any sleep and vomiting up everything you eat, you’re exhausted. You feel tears prick your waterline as Bradley steps closer to you.

He reaches up and cups your face. It wasn’t always like this. You and Rooster are both stubborn to an unhealthy degree, and when you two got off on the wrong foot all those years ago you never imagined this. He rubs his thumbs over your cheeks, examining you with his eyes.

“What’s going on? You’ve been off all week.” His voice is soft and it only makes you more emotional.

You close your eyes and feel the first tears escape down your face. “I think I’m pregnant.” You whisper.

You keep your eyes shut as you hear him inhale. He grips your face tighter, willing you to open your eyes. When you finally open them, he’s smiling.

“You’re pregnant?”

You shake your head, “I’m not sure yet. I haven’t taken a test yet, but I’ve been sick all week and I can’t remember when my last period was.” You sigh.

His smile only grows. Of course he would be excited. You’re not sure why you were convinced he would be pissed or upset. His reaction only makes you cry more and he tugs you closer into the warmth of his chest.

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and steps back, helping you off the exam bench. “Let's go home, yeah?” He asks.

You nod solemnly and thread your fingers through his, heading to the exit. Bradley lets Mav know you’re sick and he’s taking you home, planning to finish the flight course next week. He helps you into his Bronco and secures your seatbelt for you. He kisses you lightly before closing the door and heading around the car.

On the way back to your shared place he detours to the nearest convenience store and parks out front. Turning to you he says, “I’m gonna run in and grab a few tests. Do you want to come in?”

You shake your head and lean back against the seat letting it absorb your exhaustion. He’s quick inside and jogs back out to the car with a full bag.

“I didn’t know which one to get so I just grabbed a bunch.” He pulls a few out to show you and you laugh at his eagerness.

He smiles at you and places the bag in the back seat, squeezing your knee as he starts the car again.

He turns the radio on low as you watch your surroundings pass by. You don’t know how to feel about all this. Are you even ready to be a mom? You glance at Bradley and take in his tanned skin and light blush covering his nose and ears. He’d be a great dad, you already know it.

You try to shake off some of your anxiety as you head inside. Bradley pulls you close and squeezes your arm, sending you a reassuring smile. You exhale and turn to him, “Will you take it with me?”

“Of course.” He nods and rubs your arm gently.

You head towards the bathroom with the bag full of tests and Bradley fills a cup of water for you. You’re examining all the different tests when he enters and comes up behind you. He rests his head on your shoulder and reads the boxes with you.

You grab the test with the electronic Pregnant or Not Pregnant answer and a generic 2 line test as well. Bradley sits with you the whole time anxiously squeezing any part of you he can touch. You place the tests near the sink and set a timer on your phone.

You both sit in a comfortable yet tense silence. You can tell Bradley is more excited than you are but he’s doing his best to keep himself calm. The phone rings cutting off your anxious thoughts and you both stand together to look at the results.

You grab the line test first seeing two very visible solid lines. You quickly grab the other which coincides with a bold Pregnant flashing at you. You close your eyes and pass the test to Bradley, feeling the waterworks begin.

He gasps slightly and puts the test back on the counter. He laughs as he turns you to face him, “Hey, hey it’s okay. Everythings gonna be fine,” You can hear the smile in his voice as your tears fall faster.

“We’ll figure it out, okay? Hey, look at me.” He cups your face again, your eyes opening to meet his.

“We’re gonna figure it out.” His smile spreads, “We’re gonna be parents holy shit.” You laugh at his excitement and pull him into an embrace.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You mumble into his shirt.

The next morning you head to a local clinic just to get a medical test and see if everythings okay with the baby. You’re given the all clear and relative timeline of birth and growth and everything seems so surreal. Bradley is beyond excited and it’s starting to rub off on you. He spent the whole night reassuring you and brainstorming possible names.

The doctor did let you know that flying is off limits. You feel a bit sad at the loss of flying, but know Mav will keep you busy in other ways. You keep reminding yourself this as you head to his office Monday morning. Bradley and you are hand in hand, him excited to break the news. You knock and hear a muffled “Come in” on the other side. You exhale and squeeze Bradley’s hand as you push the door open.

“Hey y/n, Bradley.” He nods. “Feeling better?” He places the paperwork he was looking at down and looks between you both.

You glance to Bradley who quickly nods his head, urging you on. “About that.” You turn back to Mav’s confused expression continuing, “Um, Bradley and I actually have something to tell you.”

Pete remains silent, questioning you both.

“I’m, uh, not gonna be able to fly for a while.”

His brows furrow, mouth opening to object, but you beat him to it.

“I’m pregnant.”

His mouth drops in shock and Bradley laughs at his expression.

“I- I mean wow. Holy shit!” He laughs. He stands and rounds the desk pulling you into a tight hug and then Bradley. He shakes Rooster’s shoulders as he pulls away and his face is ecstatic.

“I’ll be damned,” He looks between you both again and shakes his head. You glance at Bradley and smile.

Bradley’s grin is contagious and he shouts, “We’re gonna be parents!”

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