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s-vtoru · 5 months

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where's my reward? | wriothesley x reader

ᡴꪫ summary: wriothesley comes to you, his biggest cheerleader, after winning his 5th boxing match this week. he expects a reward for his hard work and who are you to deny him? pairing: boxer!wriothesley x fem!reader warnings: smut, praise kink (wrio), pet names (angel, baby, pretty girl), p in v, porn with plot, breeding kink, implied pregnancy

wriothesley was in the ring, throwing punches to the face and gut of his opponent, almost rarely receiving them from the other end. one uppercut and left jab from the duke left his combatant on the floor gasping for air, covered in bruises and a bloody nose. cheers and clapping erupted from the crowd around the arena as wriothesley was deemed the winner, or champion rather, which happened almost every time. as he held the belt given to him, showing off his well-earned prize off to the crowd, he spotted you just a few feet away from the rink screaming his name and cheering for him. seeing you apart of the crowd, his number one fan, it was his sole reason to keep on going in his boxing career. you are his motivation.

a few interviews and photograph signing later, he was completely spent. all he wanted was to hold you in his arms and head on home. so once he saw you waiting for him in his personal dressing room, he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his head in the crook of your neck. you smiled warmly, "hi mr. champion," you spoke, turning your head to press a kiss onto his cheek. man was he happy to hear your sweet voice. "mm. hey," he pressed soft kisses against your neck, fingers messing with the bottom of your shirt. "you did great out there, wrio," you caressed his forearm with the pad of your thumb, the both of you swaying side to side. "thanks baby, couldn't have done it without you," and it was true, if he didn't have you, he wouldn't have made it this far. he wouldn't have been one of the top 3 best boxers in the world.

having you in his arms never got old. he loved feeling your body against his big, bulky frame. remember how spent he was earlier? well, not so much anymore. with you in front of him, looking all pretty in those tight leggings and compression long sleeve shirt with his name on the back that hugged your figure oh so nicely, you can feel his growing bulge against your ass. "i figured you'd be tired after such a long match, but i suppose not?" he chuckled against your shoulder, looking at you through the vanity mirror in front of you both. "well, i was. but then i thought about how i won and.." you raised your eyebrow, not really knowing where he was going with this. "and what?" you could feel him smirk against your skin, his deep gaze on your body and your pretty lips.

"where's my reward?"

".. reward?" you repeated, still confused for a moment before realizing what he meant by 'reward'. "shouldn't i be rewarded for winning today's match and for all my hard work?" a laugh left your lips, turning your body to look at him fully. "oh why yes, of course," you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, a grin spread across your lips. "what would be a good enough reward for you, hm?" wriothesley hummed, ocean blue hues glued to your lips as he came up with an idea. "well, i think this pretty girl in front of me would make a pretty good reward. don't you think?" your cheeks flushed a bright shade of red, getting a bit embarrassed by his words but you pull him closer, your lips just a mere centimeters apart. "then you can have this reward you speak of in any way you want. how's that sound?" your tone was gentle, alluring. a deep chuckle left his lips, his smirk only widening, "sounds perfect," his lips crashed against yours eagerly, hands already finding purchase on your ass.

his leg found its way in between your legs, knee pressing right up against your clothed cunt. you could feel him smiling against your lips, a whimper being pulled out of you from the friction his knee gave you. your panties were already ruined, your slick creating a wet patch on them as well as your leggings. "w—wrio.." you mumbled in the kiss, his tongue finding the opportunity to flood your mouth, dancing against yours in a coinciding rhythm. he tugged on your bottom lip, a fervorous growl leaving his lips. "fuck, you're already so wet for me.. and i barely did anything to you," his eyes bore into yours with an intensity you've never seen before. he wanted to bed you over and fuck you right then and there with no hesitation, but he needed to hold back. just for a while longer.

his head dipped down to your neck, his lips sucking light red marks onto your soft skin that would soon darken in due time. his canines spent no time in leaving their own mark on you, biting down with ease, but not hard enough to cause you any pain but a slight sting. the duke's hips rutted against the fat of your ass, his painfully hardened cock grinding against you with a kind of desperation you knew very well. however, you gathered his attention by cupping his cheeks with your small palms, letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "wait.. let me," you retracted your hands, slowly lowering down to your knees, face to face with the bulge portruding through his shorts, "reward you."

wriothesley's cheeks flushed a bright shade of crimson that stretched to the tips of his ears, watching you get down on your knees for him. he licked his lips at the sight of you, his expression contorted with lust and need. "by all means, please," a little grin spread comfortably across your lips, pulling down his shorts and underwear in one swift motion, watching his cock spring out excitedly. a content sigh left your boyfriends lips, finally feeling relieved from the confines of his clothing. you wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking at a teasingly slow pace that made him grunt. you took your time with him, wanting him to savor every small motion you made as you kept eye contact with him the whole time. after a few slow strokes, you sank your mouth down onto him, absolutely reveling in the way the all time champion shakily groaned.

"oh— fuuck— , that's it.." he placed his hand on top of your head, biting his lower lip at the feeling of your warm mouth around his girth. you swirled your tongue around his cock skillfully, tracing the thick vein all the way down to the base, the dark hairs of his happy trail tickling your nose. he admired how talented you were at sucking his dick, and that tongue of yours — the way it prodded at his slit before taking him back into your mouth with hallowed cheeks — it drove him crazy beyond words. those lewd noises of you choking on his cock was almost enough to bring him to the brink of release, tasting the pre that leaked from his tip as you held onto his thighs for support.

his dick twitched against your tongue, letting you know he was getting close. "baby, mph— i'm close.. gonna cum in your pretty mouth, okay?" you nodded your head in response, your movements picking up pace as you sucking his cock faster, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat. you were growing needy yourself, one of your hands reaching down to rub your cunt through your leggings. your muffled moans sent vibrations against his shaft, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from how deep he was in your throat. at this rate he was panting like an animal in heat, desperate for release so he can hurry up and fill your pussy with his seed next. he placed his other hand on your head, using both of his hands to eagerly fuck his cock into your throat. tears fell down your cheeks from his tip reaching the depths of your mouth. "feels so good baby, shit.. i—i'm gonna—"

one, two, and three more thrusts had him leaning his head back with a drawn out moan, shooting his cum down your throat just like he said he would. you gripped onto his thigh tighter, not letting a single drop of his release go to waste. you swallowed every last bit of his cum, ignoring the salty and bitter aftertaste. "that's a good girl," he stroked your hair with a proud grin on his face, taking his still very much hard shaft out of your mouth. you stood up on your feet, wriothelsey immediately turning you around and bending you over the vanity while he tucked his face in the crook of your neck. "need to be inside you, please.. i need to fuck you, baby," you let out a giggle, pressing a soft kiss to his lips with a alluring smile, "go ahead, wrio.. this is your reward after all, right?" your voice was sweet like honey, yet had a hint of spice to it that sent your black haired boyfriend over the edge.

he spent no time in pulling your leggings and panties down to your ankles and disregarding them completely, just aching to be inside you already. he turned your face towards him by your chin, kissing you hungrily as two of his fingers rubbed circles around your clit. your moans were music to his ears, sending blood streaming straight to his throbbing cock. he gave his shaft a few strokes before pressing his tip against your hole that clenched around nothing, dying to be filled up by your champion of a lover. "gonna put in inside you now, okay?" you hummed, feeling his fat tip ease itself inside of you, sending a stinging sensation through your body. wriothesley was by no means small; he was quite literally big. so as he pushed his massive girth entirely inside you, you gasped at the sudden stretch, beginning to adjust to it.

"you alright, angel? did it hurt?" you loved how sweet he was, how much he wanted to make sure you were okay. that was just how he is, not wanting to hurt you at all. you shook your head, "i—i'm okay, wrio.. just hurry up..," you could hear him scoff, sliding out of you and bottoming out again into your cunt, ripping a moan out of you. "someones impatient, huh?" you nudged him softly leaning your head back on his shoulder as he slowly began to move his hips. "you're— mmf.. s—shit.. one to talk," your voice was shaky, covering your mouth to repress any further noises from reaching anywhere out of the room you both were in. "yeah, i suppose you're right," wriothesley's thrusts became more frequent, biting your lip at the pleasure of his cock in your greedy cunt.

he pressed soft kisses over the marks he left on you earlier, balls deep inside you with his pace quickening with each passing second. it felt like heaven inside of you, feeling your pussy grip onto his thick cock as he took hold of your jaw, turning your attention to the mirror in front of you. "want you to watch me fuck you, watch me earn this pretty reward," he bullied his length into your dripping cunt, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head. the pleasure took over your body completely, your vision going white as his tip repeatedly kissed that sweet spongey spot that made you see stars. you uncovered your mouth, drool sneaking passed the corners of your mouth and dripping down your chin.

you loved the way wriothesley fucked you, it was filled with love and lust even if it was rough at the same time. you can tell his movements were sturdy and skilled with the way his hips thrusted his cock deep within your womb, heat rising throughout your whole body. "you did so g—good today wrio, 'm so proud of you!" and you really were, you were so so proud of him. and even though you meant that in a totally innocent way, it set something off inside of the man fucking you from behind. he cursed under his breath, his dick somehow getting bigger inside of you. "w—wrio? you—"

"say it again. tell me how proud you are of me."

you didn't think he'd be the type of person so be into being praised, let alone get aroused by it. but you didn't mind at all, because you truly were extremely proud of him. you know how hard he worked to get where he is now. "i—i'm so so proud of you wrio, y—you did so good out there!" he chuckled to himself, his thrusts becoming more erratic and his heavy breaths turning into feral growls. he loved when you praised him, told him how good he did during his matches. he was an all-time winner, all because of you. and because of his hard work, but mainly you. "ngh.. f—fuck baby, it's all 'cause of you," his thrusts remotely became erratic, unable to stop the reckless pace of his hips slapping against your ass.

your back arched dangerously, allowing your boxing champion to sink his cock deeper within your walls, abusing your cervix in a way that had your legs trembling. wriothesley caught sight of your wavering legs, an idea forming inside that mischievous head of his. without warning, he lifted you up by your thighs, holding them with a fierce grip in his large hands. he fucked up into your pussy harshly, a gravelly groan leaving him as he did so. you could see his cock slip in and out of you through the mirror, watching him split you open with his girthy shaft. "w—wrio! too d—deep!" your moans only got louder, almost positive people from outside the room could hear what you both were up to. "shit, princess, look at you..," he latched his teeth onto your shoulder, wanting to mark you up as much as possible.

"fuck.. i'm gonna cum soon," his thrusts had gotten sloppy, pace faltering too, feeling his cock twitch eagerly against your gummy insides. "i—inside.. c—cum inside wrio.." your expression was all fucked out; mouth agape, tongue lolled out, practically begging him to empty his load into your womb. those words had only turned him on even more, a chuckle leaving him, "well shit, baby, gladly," his pace picked up instantly, his grip on your thighs now deadly as he pounded into you from below. you leaned your head back onto his shoulder, feeling that heat build up in the pit of your stomach. "c—cumming! i'm cumming—!" it didn't take long for that coil to unravel, squirting all over his cock, your juices coating the mirror in front of you. wriothesley was on the verge of cumming too once feeling your pussy pulse around him, sending blood rushing throughout his body.

a few more thrusts against your g-spot had him spilling his warm cum inside of you, a deep, shaky moan erupting from your boyfriend. you both took a minute to catch your breaths, you clearly losing all feeling in your lower body. he set you down on the vanity, grabbing your panties from the ground and slipping them up halfway. "wrio..?" you looked at him, only to be met with his scheming gaze. he watched as his cum seeped out of your gaping hole, using two digits to scoop his seed back up and push it inside of you. until then, that's when he slipped your panties up all the way. a wave of heat coated your cheeks letting out a content scoff. "can't let it go to waste now, can we?" you rolled your eyes at his comment, unable to stop yourself from smiling. "hmm, i guess not."

after getting you all dressed, himself included — him only having to zip up his pants and whatnot — he leaned closely into your ear, placing his hand over your tummy, giving it slow rubs. "after all, i don't mind having another cheerleader to cheer me on," he pressed his lips against yours, kissing you slow and passionately before continuing, "that would be a pretty amazing reward, no?"

#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut

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dfortrafalgar · 2 months

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God, Finally

You're both tired of playing chicken each time you try to have sex.

Law x Fem Reader

Warnings: MATURE 18+, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS INTERACTING WITH THIS POST WILL BE BLOCKED, fluff, fluff and smut, first time, soft law, mutual performance anxiety

Author's note This was born because I wanted to write a more realistic smut about the awkwardness that can sometimes come with sex for the first time, especially with someone as intricate and complex as Law.

Also posted on AO3

You wanted it.

Law wanted it.

Both of you made it very obvious that you wanted it. Your flirtatious glances toward your stone-cold boyfriend tossed innocuously over the galley dining table, or the way Law formed the addicting habit of running his lanky, inked fingers across your waist when passing you through the tight corridors of the Polar Tang, unnoticed by anyone else on the crew, but scorching through your jumpsuit like a hot ember. The intense love you had for each other was clearly reciprocated. You often dreamt of moments spent with the raven-haired man under the thin sheets of his bed in his quarters, running your own hands along his defined shoulders or ghosting along his heavenly abdomen. Likewise, Law would often use his time alone in the shower to release his feelings for you, utterly infatuated with every aspect of your body and soul. The kindness of your heart was just as alluring as the way your favorite dress hugged your body like it was sculpted just for you, and Law couldn’t get enough.

And yet, despite all of the deep, intense feelings shared between the two of you, everything would dissipate the second things got moved to the bedroom.

The first time you and Law tried anything, you were straddled across his lap on his bed, his thin sheets and one lonely pillow tossed to the side as your lips ghosted over his collarbones in tandem with his hands working to remove the tanktop you wore under your boiler suit. You had gotten as far as both of you being shirtless when things suddenly got awkward, as if a circuit breaker popped. No spark between either of you.

You sat atop Law’s hips, no indication of arousal anywhere to be found below his waist. You, similarly, felt nothing. As your eyes locked with his confused, almost frightened, golden ones, all the sexual tension that had built up within the small metal confines of his private room was gone as if it was never there in the first place.

“You… uhm…” Law tripped over his words, and flushed a deep crimson after damaging his own ego with his obvious nervousness. “You look nice.”

You blinked. “Thanks…?”

Neither of you really knew what happened, but after you pulled your shirt back over your head and carefully hopped off of his mattress, the two of you didn’t speak for the rest of the day after that. Things were pretty much back to normal after a few days of taking some time for each of you, and the next time you tried was about 10 days after your first failed encounter.

You were once again back in Law’s quarters, this time kneeling on the cold metallic floor as you gazed up at him with hungry, ravenous eyes. Some dirty talk was successfully bounced between the two of you, and quite frankly, you were pretty desperate to suck his dick despite not yet having seen it for yourself. Law was already enjoying the feeling of grabbing your hair in his fingers, loving the way your eyes fluttered shut with the sensation of his firm yet tender grip on your head to guide his lips to yours as he hunched over you. You kissed your way through undoing the belt of his speckled jeans, pulling the faux leather through his belt loops and discarding the accessory to the side on the floor. You made quick work of his button, then his fly, his hips lifting to allow you to shimmy his pants to his knees. He was hard, painfully so, and his dick truly looked as pretty as you imagined it would.

But when your lips finally separated from the steamy kiss and your focus was directed solely on his erection, all the confidence you had built up packed up its bags and said it was going out for cigarettes. Your hands rested limp on Law’s thighs, his hands resting on the edge of the mattress. He stared blankly at you staring at his dick.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. He could already feel his own arousal leaving, blood once again flowing back to his brain. With the extra oxygen, he started to worry if he was the problem.

“No, nothing’s wrong, I just…” you faltered, “I’ve never done this before.”

“Oh.”

Just like your first encounter, your second attempt ended in utter failure. You awkwardly stood up, brushing invisible dust off of your knees before uttering a quick apology with your head dipped. You quickly made your way out of his quarters, leaving Law sat befuddled, dick having gone completely flaccid in record time.

Two more additional, and equally as mentally painful, encounters happened since, and in the weeks that passed, the two of you started to develop your own individual anxieties.

Law was petrified that he was the problem. He was worried that he was moving too quickly for you, being too forceful and making you afraid to speak up. The last thing he wanted was to lose you over something so trivial, but he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t desperately want to finally lay with you. He had kept it to himself that he has never had sex, though to most in his life that was obvious as he often drowned himself in his work and duties as a pirate captain without leaving much room for random hook-ups. Until now, where he desperately wanted it.

You on the other hand, were anxiety ridden over the thought that Law would, in fact, leave you over something so trivial. You kicked yourself each time you chickened out of an act, leaving your flustered boyfriend alone and frustrated. The only thing holding you back was your lack of real experience beyond removing the clothes, and the uncertainty and unknown territory that came with made you jitter with nerves. You would try to hype yourself up in the mirror in the crew washroom, lightly slapping your cheeks and pouting your lips and mouthing encouraging nonsense to yourself, only to see Law and end up only sleeping with him, and not actually sleeping with him.

You were getting tired of your own impatience, and Law was getting tired of being anxious.

---

You woke up in the late morning to a beam of sunlight from the porthole in the crew bunkhouse tinting the inside of your eyelids dark red. With a grumble, still fairly tired from your night watch shift, you sat up and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. On a typical day, the cloudless blue sky and warm weather of a spring island supply docking would be the perfect thing to lift your mood, but in the midst of your sexual frustrations, there was nothing to be content about. You proceeded through your day as usual, assisting with upkeep of the submarine and helping the engineers with a few maintenance jobs that had been discovered after your latest underwater excursion. It was this time spent alone with Ikkaku, both of you dirtied with sour oil as you dismantled one of the primary engines, that you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You needed advice, desperately.

“Ikkaku, mind if I ask you something?” you began, casually, biting down your nerves.

“Of course, what’s goin’ on?” she replied.

The two of you had formed a very close sisterly bond since you joined the crew, Ikkaku delighting in no longer being the only woman aboard a submarine crawling with men. You were able to talk about anything with each other without shame or embarrassment. And yet, the flustered feeling that tingled in your cheeks as you processed how to ask your question alerted your curly-haired crew mate to your desperation almost immediately.

Ikkaku leaned over in her dirty boiler suit, bumping her shoulder with yours. “Relationship trouble?”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, hand gripping a torque wrench and slowly tightening a lug nut on the engine in front of you. “It’s really embarrassing to ask, but…” your voice trailed off, tongue tying as you fought tooth and nail with your own vocabulary for how to voice your concern. “How do you know when you want to have sex?”

The look Ikkaku gave you didn’t help your feelings of inadequacy, but she was clearly trying to maintain a neutral expression. “Can I ask what you mean by that? Did something happen?”

“Any time Law and I try to… you know…” your wrench slipped out of its hold on the nut, and you grumbled. What an ironically fitting allegory. “We just end up chickening out at the last minute. I feel like there’s something wrong with me and I’m scared that he’s going to get fed up.”

Ikkaku nodded, focused on your words as well as her own work. “So you’re a virgin?”

You huffed. “Yes. Unfortunately.”

Ikkaku chuckled, but tossed you a sympathetic glance. “Hey, it’s nothing to be ashamed about, seriously. We’re all busy pirates, we’ve all come from crazy lives, no one is expected to have sex at a certain time. There’s no sense in rushing something like that.”

You smiled at her words of reassurance, but that nagging anxiety still clawed to the forefront of your brain. “But even when we do have time, why do I always end up chickening out? And why does he? I feel like he’s disgusted with me.”

“That can’t be it. He looks at you like you’re the most perfect thing to walk on this planet, and everyone can see it.”

Blood rushed to your face at the revelation of Law’s longing glances apparently being public knowledge amongst the Heart Pirates.

“Clearly you really want to take that next step with him, but I think the anticipation of it being some grand life-changing event might be scaring you off from the moment.” Ikkaku spoke freely, and her words did make sense. She continued. “I know there’s a big expectation of having sex as soon as possible, but that’s just not the reality most of the time. If sex is something that you feel that you need, and that feeling is mutual, then the moment will come naturally with time. And if it turns out that you realize it’s an attraction that you don’t feel, then that’s fine too!” The brunette adjusted her seat on the floor, crossing her legs and grabbing a dirty rag off to the side to wipe her muddied hands on. “The anxiety of the expectation is scaring you, basically.”

Your eyes were clearly widened at the revelation, as a hearty laugh left Ikkaku’s lungs at, what you assumed was, the dumbfounded expression on your face. Your shoulders hunched and you stared forward, all of your emotions suddenly making a lot more sense. All you could successfully mutter in response was a quiet, “Huh.”

“Did I get it right?” she inquired, leaning over to you and laying her head on your shoulder, a bright smile on her lips.

You laughed at her gesture, leaning back into her. “I think you did, actually… Do you think it’s the same thing for him?”

Ikkaku nodded affirmatively without hesitation. “Oh, absolutely. This crew is full of horny dudes stuck on a submarine together, you hear the way some of them talk. Between you and me, I know Law’s never had sex either, and the things he hears from his own crew about ‘men needing to have sex as soon as possible’ and the like,” she gestured her statement with air quotes, “It messes with his head and makes him all anxious. He clearly wants to do anything to make you happy, and I bet his own anxiety is inhibiting him from taking the next step.”

Something clicked in your mind once more at that moment. You knew Law had performance anxiety in battle, you had not only seen it once or twice, but had heard plenty of stories from his crew about his inability to maintain self control when around certain people. The thought of him having performance anxiety in the bedroom, with you, made your heart ache. You zoned back in, locking your eyes with Ikkaku who was gazing at your face to examine your expression.

She tapped her oily finger on the forehead, leaving a slight smudge. “I’m probably right!”

You laughed, taking the clean heel of your palm and pressing it to her forehead to wipe the smudge off of her skin. She yelped in response, laughing along with you. “Thank you Ikkaku, really.”

“Of course, that’s what I’m here for!”

The two of you continued your work with light conversation bouncing back and forth, and as you packed up your tools to head to the galley for dinner, Ikkaku tapped your thigh when you stood.

She gazed up at you, brown eyes twinkling mischievously. “Get that dick, sister.”

“Shut up!” you bantered back, hiding your flustered face from view as your friend boldly laughed.

You began the fairly long trek from the engine room to the galley, which was two floors above you and on the complete other end of the submarine. You stashed your tool box in a nearby maintenance closet before continuing your walk, rubbing your oil-stained hands on your jumpsuit. It was almost laundry day, anyway. As you rounded the corner into the confined space where one of the many ladders was kept, you bumped into the very man who set your heart racing.

Law was clearly caught off guard by your sudden appearance as well, having just climbed down the ladder and was turning around as you appeared. Red instantly tinted his cheeks, but he paired it with a very faint smile at your presence. “I was just about to get you for dinner, I didn’t want you to get too lost in your work.”

“Get me?” you asked, smiling. “How thoughtful! I just finished up, actually.”

“That’s good,” he responded, voice quiet. You stepped further into the ladder well, making an attempt to reach your hand out toward a metal rung before Law’s wrist stopped you. You gazed at him.

“Can we talk after dinner? In my quarters?” Before you had a chance to grow anxious over the ambiguousness of his words, the raven-haired man leaned down to press a warm kiss to your jaw. “I’m not breaking up with you, I promise.”

You laughed, worry immediately seeping out of you. “Thank goodness,” you sighed in relief. “Of course.”

It was only then that Law gestured for you to climb the ladder, following close behind you. You yelped when he poked a lanky finger into the plush of your ass cheek through your boiler suit, and you playfully batted his hand away. Despite the (assumed) shared anxiety of your escapades behind closed doors, you were relieved and thankful that your relationship hadn’t soured in any way. Law was truly too good for you.

The walk to the galley and dinner with a few of the crew members was filled with idle chit chat about your days, but you couldn’t miss the way Law’s knee was constantly bouncing with urgency. He finished his meal first, making his way toward his quarters. You waited a few moments to follow him, not wanting to draw suspicion from your crewmates. Everyone knew you were in a dedicated relationship with their captain, but you liked to avoid any awkward comments when you could. You made your way to Law’s room quicker than you thought you would, floating on your feet with nervous anticipation.

Law, meanwhile, was so anxious his hands were shaking in his bespeckled pockets. He was unsure whether or not to tell you that he had a very emasculating conversation with Shachi and Penguin earlier in the day about what they referred to as his, “Intense performance anxiety.” He didn’t appreciate that his feelings had a dedicated term, but he also couldn’t deny that their entire conversation made a whole lot of sense. Despite his two best friends’ track record of being fairly immature about contact with women, they were surprisingly helpful in getting him to unpack why he would shut down any time he gazed at you without your clothes on. While it made him feel like a pervert, Penguin was quick to shut down this feeling and chalked it up to, once again, Law’s built-in self-deprecation.

“It’s not your fault that you have performance anxiety, you just gotta talk it out!” Penguin had said, surprisingly emotionally intelligent.

Law made a mental note to sincerely thank the two of them at some later date.

You were quick to catch up to the taller man, rounding the corner just as he opened the door to his quarters. He grinned nervously as he held the door open for you, watching as you scampered inside. He closed the door behind him, subtly locking it. You kicked off your work boots and shrugged off your dirty boiler suit, tucking it safely away in the corner of his room so none of his belongings would get soiled by the oil that still remained on your clothes, before approaching his bed and sitting on the edge of the mattress. Law sat next to you, gazing at his hands, tattooed thumbs anxiously fidgeting.

“Take your time,” you said quietly, leaning over to nudge him.

“Thanks,” he replied in a hushed tone, the ghost of a smile fleeting over his face.

You patiently sat next to him, gazing at your own hands before he finally spoke up.

“So, I learned something today,” he began.

You picked your head up. “Go on…”

“Penguin said I have ‘performance anxiety.’” He used two fingers to gesture air quotes.

You tried to calm your nerves. Ikkaku’s voice in the back of your head was right on the money. He was just as nervous about the potential of disappointment as you were.

“I learned something today, too,” you added.

Law turned his head to face you.

“Ikkaku told me that I’m ‘scared of disappointing you.’” You gestured your own air quotes, a melancholic smile on your face.

Your eye contact with Law lasted for a few brief moments before you burst into a nervous fit of giggles. Law couldn’t help but follow suit, his own silent chuckle making his shoulders bounce as he hid his small grin behind his fist.

“Guess we’re both all messed up,” he sighed, studying your expression.

You hummed. “I really did realize that today, though. I never wanted to keep chickening out of being closer to you…” you took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ve just never had sex before, and I think I really was inherently scared that I would disappoint you, or not be good enough.”

Law nodded, bowing his head and lowering his hand to dance his fingers over your own. “Yeah… me too.”

A silence that was slightly less awkward now permeated the space, and you shuffled closer to your boyfriend. He embraced the warmth that radiated from your body, finding solace in the way you sent electric chills up his spine.

“I’m glad it’s mutual. I know that sounds bad, but it makes me feel less… inadequate?” you added.

“You’ve never been inadequate,” Law replied. He was about to add that he was the inadequate one, but Shachi’s stern voice bounced around Law’s skull that said ‘BE CONFIDENT IN YOURSELF.’ Law knew you loved him for everything he was, so who was he to tear himself down like that when you only saw his flaws as the things that made him so beautiful? He wanted to finally make you understand that as well.

“Thank you, Law.” You dipped your head into his shoulder, nuzzling into his neck. “You’ve been so patient with me.”

“Likewise,” he whispered, hand above yours moving to lace your fingers together. His heart was beating madly in his ribcage. If one were to tell him earlier that day that he’d be metaphorically pouring his heart out for you later that evening, he would’ve scoffed in response, and yet here he was. As foreign as the feeling of being vulnerable still was for him, he was finding it easier and easier to open himself for you, expose everything inside him for you to consume. A year ago, or even some months ago, he would shut down that notion with a firm scowl and reinforce the concrete walls around his soul, but you would only break through them with something stronger. And he loved that about you. He loved you so deeply, more intimately than any other love he had ever felt.

He stiffened slightly when you moved your head out of the crook of his shoulder, your hairs dancing along the sensitive skin of his neck. You picked your head up, and planted a deep kiss on his lips. He watched through half-lidded eyes as your own fluttered closed, releasing your hand from his grasp in order to lace your arms around his neck. You were pushing into him so deeply that he felt as though you were trying to fuse yourself to him. Who was he to say no to such a request?

His hands found purchase on your waist, squeezing the flesh of your belly through your shirt. A sound, something between a giggle and a moan, left your mouth, and you pulled away from the kiss with an embarrassed smile.

“That tickled,” was all you said.

With your arms still draped around his shoulders and neck, you let gravity pull you down onto his bed, Law following you willingly, supporting himself above you with his forearms next to your head as he captured your lips in a kiss that took your breath away. The feeling of his lips, slightly chapped yet scorching like a flame, and the faint taste of coffee that always lingered on his tongue was already addicting, but even more so when he parted his teeth and captured your bottom lip in a gentle, teasing graze before diving in for more.

Law’s heartbeat tripled when he felt you smile against his mouth, a grin so delightfully beautiful that he wished he could kiss you for the rest of his life.

(Who was stopping him from fulfilling that wish?)

Running out of oxygen, which he knew he desperately needed in his current state of pre-arousal, Law pulled away from your lips and chuckled warmly at the whine you released from your lungs. His golden eyes analyzed every detail of your face, your eyes half open, gazing up at him as if he was the only thing in the world that mattered to you. The way your cheeks were warm with your flush, radiating to his own skin, and the way your lips were kiss-swollen and pouting for more.

“God…” Law groaned. “I need you so bad.” In any normal circumstance, he would be humiliated at himself over his brazen statement and attitude. This was not a normal circumstance, and he was finally ready to relinquish that notion.

“Then take me, Law,” you responded, voice so light and airy that it was almost a whisper. “Finally take me, please.”

Once again, however, Law felt himself falter. “Really?”

Instead of growing frustrated, which his pent up anxiety told him you would, you huffed out a bright laugh. “Yes, Law, yes! You just kissed my brains out, we can’t play chicken again.” You finished your statement by lifting one of your legs, slotting it in between Law’s thighs and brushing over the swollen spot at the front of his jeans. The man above you sucked in a breath.

“Okay… okay we’re doing this.”

“We are.”

“And you’re really okay with it.”

With a light-hearted groan, you pulled the man back down into another fiery kiss, using the distraction to trail your hands from his waist to his chest, pulling his shirt up with you. He adjusted himself so he could support his weight on his knees as he caressed your own skin through your shirt, his calloused hands forgoing their inked marks as they ran soothing touches across your abdomen, following your lead by pulling your shirt up and over your head. You took advantage of sitting up yourself to loop your hands behind your back and unclasp your bra, lazily throwing it off the bed to join your two discarded shirts on the floor. Your bold hands resumed their touches, leaving goosebumps over Law’s sun-kissed skin in their wake. He kissed you with the rhythm of your fingers tracing the tattoo on his chest, gentle, tender caresses that had his heart, and the fluttering in his stomach, on overdrive. If he was more coherent, he would be worried about his heart giving out. In that same instant he shoved the feeling out of his head. There was no need to be rational anymore, not when you lay before him with your upper half completely exposed to the cold air of his bedroom.

Law didn’t even realize that he was in the process of removing your shorts until you lifted your hips and allowed him to pull them down to your knees, and then fully off of your legs. You gently pushed on his pecs to make him lean back and allow you to sit up, hands undoing the metal clasp of his belt and pulling it through the loops of his jeans. It clattered to the floor, but you paid no mind as you were eagerly undoing his button and zipper.

Suddenly, your hands stopped yet again. You nervously gazed up at him.

He gazed back down at you.

You shook your head, as if trying to rid yourself of anxious thoughts that floated around you like angry insects. “Sorry, I’m still kind of nervous,” you muttered.

“It’s okay, I am too.” Law’s hands ran down your arms before floating to your waist, squeezing your now-bare flesh once again. “You’re perfect. I love you.”

“Even if I haven’t shaved my legs in a week?” you asked. Your tone was light, but Law could still pick up on the notes of insecurity that echoed through the air around you.

“You think I care about that?” he asked, voice tender. He planted a chaste kiss to your lips once more, before pulling his body downward, leaving sugar-sweet kisses across your neck, breasts, stomach, and the waistband of your panties. His hands caressed your thighs as he sat up once more, trying to ignore the red-hot pressure in his groin, not helped by his open button and fly. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Look me in the eye and tell me that you think I care about your body hair. No one could’ve guessed that we’d be doing this right now, it’s not like you could’ve anticipated it.” He squeezed the plump flesh on your thighs playfully to punctuate his words.

You laughed once again, your voice sweeter than the freshest honey, carrying colors Law had never seen before. “You’re right, I know…” You averted your eyes, smiling so brightly that your lower lids were creasing. “Thank you, Law…”

A short-lived silence floated between your two bodies, before you pushed yourself up by your elbows yet again and continued with your initial quest of undoing his tight jeans and getting them off his body as quickly as humanly possible. He eagerly helped you, shimmying back and forth while you pulled his pants down before they were finally off and thrown to the side on the floor. Your angle, leaning back on your elbows and gazing at Law’s form above you, was more heavenly than the finest artwork. You could tell the man started to grow anxious as your eyes unpacked his body from head to toe, but how couldn’t you?

“You’re beautiful too, Law, so fucking gorgeous.” You used one hand to pull his shoulder down, planting light kisses on the corners of his mouth. “The most handsome man I have ever seen in my life.”

“Oh please,” he huffed, kissing you back where he could. One of his hands supported him on the mattress, while the other supported him by your waist.

“I mean it, you’re ethereal,” you moaned. As much as you wanted to make him sit and listen to you ramble about how much you adored his defined muscles and lean physique, you didn’t want to make him more uncomfortable than you knew he was already dealing with. You had come this far, you didn’t want to ruin it.

More intense, sloppy kisses ensued, hands trailing up and down bodies, before Law accidentally lowered himself on you. He jolted at the feeling of his erection brushing against your pelvic area, suddenly reminding him of what exactly the goal here was. He pulled away from you, holding eye contact.

“Are you really sure you want this?” he asked, voice low and cautious, as if he was trying not to startle an animal.

“More than anything, Law. Do you?”

He paused for longer than he cared to admit, his mind running wild. He loved you so intensely, so deeply, that he wished he could become one with you on an atomic level. He wanted to spend every moment with you for the rest of his life, regardless of how long it was. He wanted to accompany you through all of your achievements and dreams, just like he hoped you would do for him. He wanted a permanent home in your brain, in your heart, in your soul, where you wouldn’t let him leave, where you would hold him so tightly in your warm embrace for the rest of time.

He snapped out of his zone when your hand caressed his scruffy cheek. “Law?”

“Yes,” he responded quickly. “Yes, god, yes, I want this. I want you.”

Another kiss followed, before breaking apart once more.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you started. “How exactly do we begin?”

Despite your wishes, Law couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled from his lungs. “Shit, we’re hopeless.” You laughed along with him, making more anxiety dissipate from his chest like a steam rising from a lagoon on a warm summer morning..

It wasn’t like either of you were strangers to how human sex worked, just like how neither of you were strangers to the orgasm, it was more so the act of actually beginning it, and doing it together. It wasn’t as simple as slipping it in, thrusting a few times, and cumming. There was much, much more to it. You two just needed to figure out how to get there.

You shivered under the sensation of Law’s fingertips teasing the waistband of your panties before pulling them down slightly, waiting for your indication that you were ready to be completely and totally bare in front of him. He bit down his elation as you lifted your hips, allowing the thin fabric to lower from your ass and down your thighs as Law removed them from your body, so gentle with the fabric, treating it as if it was sacred. The notion left you feeling scorched, heart beating with untapped urgency. The feeling of the cold air of the bedroom hitting your wet folds left you rubbing your thighs together, lip quivering. You reached a hand forward yourself, tugging at Law’s own waistband and gazing at him through your eyelids, a silent plea to reveal himself to you as well.

After a deep, shuddering breath, the man slipped his boxers down his legs, throwing them onto the pile of your discarded clothing. When he looked back at you, he was taken aback by the sight of your wide eyes, pupils dilated as you examined his cock. He couldn’t help but smirk. He didn’t think he was anything to write home about, seeing himself as average all around, but he just barely caught the way you sucked your lower lip in with your teeth, and it filled him with a sense of excitement, pride, and longing that he thought he’d never experience, let alone enjoy.

“Hey, eyes up here, darling,” he urged with a lighthearted chuckle.

Flustered, your eyes darted up to his face, and you grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”

He pressed a small kiss to the apex of your nose. “Don’t worry about it.”

Unlike your previous pauses, each kiss and caress from Law and the way his sultry words kept you anticipating made the mood stay relatively consistent throughout. You felt confident, cherished, and adored by the man above you, and you just hoped he knew how much you wanted to worship him for the rest of your days.

Running a tattooed hand along your outer thigh before gracing over the junction of your hip and dipping his fingers in between your plush limbs easing them open for him, he eyed your expression and stated, “Tell me where you like to be touched.”

You held yourself up on one elbow, splitting your legs more for Law to get comfortable in between them as you allowed your free hand to roam to your pussy, using two fingers to part your lips. Law watched analytically as your pointer and middle fingers rubbed the hood of your clit at the very top, and he listened intently to the way your breath hitched ever so slightly at the cotton-soft pleasure that emanated from your own fingertips.

“Right here,” you breathed.

Law’s own fingers were quick to replace your own. He caressed the tiny spot, analyzing every twitch of your muscles or change in your breathing pattern. His fingers dipped lower, watching your expression for any sign of discomfort as he ran his fingers along your opening, stifling a grin at how wet you had gotten from long minutes of intense making out and awkward repeated confirmations of consent. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The way your natural lubrication coated his fingers was alluring, and he used the fluid to rub and press against your clit once more, reveling in the way you bit down moans each time he changed up his pattern of movement. He watched, intoxicated on the moment, as your hands grabbed at your own breasts, head tilted back and eyes squeezed shut. While continuing his motions on your clit, he leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss right above your left breast. When your hand moved, he gently bit down on your soft skin, basking in the whine that left your tense throat. He licked the faint red mark his teeth left behind, knowing it wouldn’t even bruise. Maybe some other day he could really sink his teeth into you, but for now he wanted to hold back and enjoy your first time.

Your breathing was growing more labored as his fingers danced expertly over your soaked clit, when you shot your hand forward and gripped his wrist in a silent plea to stop.

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyebrows immediately wrinkling in concern.

“I’m fine, I just…” your trembling hand rubbed his forearm. “I want you inside me. Like… right now. Please.”

Law hummed. He pulled his hand away from your cunt, leaving your now saturated folds exposed to a new level of chill. You watched through half-lidded eyes as your boyfriend grabbed his one pillow from beside the metal bed frame. He gently tapped your hip, wordlessly encouraging you to lift yourself enough for him to slide the pillow under you.

“This will support your back, hopefully,” he mentioned quietly. “And hopefully reduce some initial discomfort.”

You smirked. “Did you do some research?”

Law scoffed, flustered, averting his intense golden eyes. “No, I just… assumed.”

You laughed, shimmying against the pillow and getting yourself comfortable. “Trafalgar Law, if you don’t stop acting so cute we’re not going to get anywhere.”

The man’s grip on your hips tightened slightly, and he couldn’t fight the grin that spread across his lips at your statement. “You really okay with this?”

You nodded affirmatively. “Yes.”

Law inhaled a deep breath, reaching down to take a gentle hold of his own cock that, remarkably, stayed completely hard and eager this entire time. (He was relieved there was nothing wrong with him.) He gave himself a few strokes with his fist, forcing down a groan at the sensation as you watched him with ravenous eyes that devoured his every movement. You shivered as his fingers ran up and down your cunt yet again, before rubbing your slick on his cock with a tiny, breathy moan. Lord, you needed him badly.

The raven-haired man adjusted his position between your legs and tested the waters by running the head of his dick through your wet folds. The feeling was already something you were addicted to.

“I’m going to ask one last time,” he said, voice low and apprehensive. “Are you okay with this?”

For the final time, your eyes fluttered open, caressing a hand over his cheek. “Yes.” Finally.

Law used two fingers to pull apart your folds, exposing the entrance to your vagina that seemed to wait so patiently just for him. He pressed the head of his cock into you, inhaling a shaky breath at the way your anatomy seemed to suck him in. He stopped when he heard you groan slightly under him.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, it just hurts a little bit.”

He pressed a tender kiss to your cheek, then to the corner of your mouth. “That’s normal, you’ve never done this before.”

You nodded, finding endless comfort in his words and touches.

Little by little, Law eased himself into you, having you adjust your hips every now and then to get used to not only the feeling of having something inside of you so tightly, but also to find the most comfortable position for you. You did find great relief in the way the pillow below your hips allowed subtle leverage, making his entrance much easier on the both of you. Law twirled his fingers with your own, capturing your lips in an addictive, sultry kiss as he pushed the rest of his way into you. He groaned into your mouth, the feeling of his cock leaving your walls molding around him a sensation so foreign yet so delicious. Similarly, your legs quivered at the red hot feeling of Law’s cock fully enveloped within your warmth, each way you moved reminding you that he was in you, connected to you in the deepest, most intimate way possible. The feeling of being stretched and intruded upon slowly went away, helped in part by Law’s constant kisses and caresses across your body, keeping you both plenty aroused and waiting.

You wiggled your hips against his delighting in the groan that left his clenched jaw.

“That feels too good,” he sighed into your neck.

“You can move,” you urged, finally getting used to the fulfilling sensation.

Law’s hand squeezed your’s, and you squeezed back. Supporting himself with his other hand on your hip, he rocked his hips slightly, testing the waters of your body’s reactions to each movement. His entire body felt on fire. He was sure that water would evaporate off of his skin at the slightest contact. He clenched his jaw, uttering a wavering groan at the warm wetness that surrounded his cock with each movement, the sounds emanating from your joined bodies equal parts alluring and humbling.

He quickly found a rhythm that seemed to work for the two of you, angling his hips upward as best he could to attempt to focus his thrusts on the spot at the roof of your vagina right below your pelvic bone. (Okay, maybe he had done more than a little research.) Your eyes were clenched shut, mouth slightly open as you exhaled shallowly.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“Good… great,” you uttered back, breathless. “You feel really good… you feel amazing, Law.”

Law’s heart once again skipped a few beats at the praise. To know he was bringing you pleasure, making sure you were getting as much out of this as he was, was exactly what he needed to hear.

He disconnected your hands, leaving both of your palms face up and empty next to your head. His free hand now traveled back down in between your legs, rubbing three fingers against your neglected clit. The sensation was unlike anything you had ever experienced before, back arching off the bed. It was a pressure deep within your abdomen that flared like a hot coal, partnered with zaps and zings of electric shocks as sweet as sugar, the two sensitive areas of your anatomy fusing together with Law’s touch and movements to form a combination that had you moaning without restraint. You couldn’t help yourself.

“Oh fuck, Law, shit,” you groaned, neck craning back.

Law took advantage of your exposed skin by peppering sweet kisses along your jugular and Adam’s apple, before sitting his lips in the soft flesh right above your collarbone and biting down with more force than before. You whined at the feeling, shivering as his tongue once again licked the deeper marks, leaving your skin wet and cold, and at the same time blazing hot. The groans he was releasing so close to your ear only spurred your passion more, your own hands traveling to his shoulders and holding him close, fingers gripping his skin as best you could as his thrusts deepened in tandem with the pace of his fingers on your clit.

Law’s entire lower body felt on fire, electric, a magenta pressure building deep within his abdomen and radiating outward. He felt his dick twitch inside you and he bit down a moan, instead relishing in the way you let go one of your own at the feeling of his dick rubbing against your G-spot with every other snap of his hips. You lifted your knees up, feeling him even deeper than before, and you gasped his name.

“Shit, Law,” your legs quivered next to his body. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Your body involuntarily met him thrust for thrust, the pressure from your movements added to Law’s ministrations over your clit leaving you panting and writhing beneath him. You were a sight to behold for Law’s sore eyes. He could drink you for the rest of eternity and never grow tired of your taste.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the pace of his hips increasing as he felt the familiar, yet foreign, sensation of his impending orgasm. This was nothing like using his hand, it was so much better, worlds better. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to masterbate on his own again, knowing nothing could surpass the way your pussy clenched around his dick like you were sculpted for each other and only each other.

“Ah… ah, fuck, Law,” you moaned, voice cracking as your back arched. The white hot pleasure from your pussy reverberated throughout your entire body, leaving your skin both icy and on fire as colors flashed behind your eyelids. Your fingers gripped Law’s shoulders harder, surely leaving marks in his skin.

Your orgasm caught you completely off guard, body snapping as waves of pink and purple flashed behind your closed eyelids as your pelvis shook and trembled against Law’s wavering thrusts. Your moans were unrestrained now, freely calling into the stifling air around your bodies, embracing each millisecond of the addictive, powerful sensation that danced across your waist, your womb, your legs. Your orgasm was the final push Law needed before he frantically pulled out of your sopping pussy and released onto your lower stomach, his hips gyrating as he fisted his cock with shuddering breaths and deep groans. His abs flexed continuously as his muscles contracted from the sheer force of his own release.

The two of you remained in the same positions you finished in for what felt like hours, desperately catching your breath. Your legs continued to shake as you relaxed your muscles and let your weary limbs finally fall back onto the mattress. You opened your eyes, taking in the ethereal view of Law’s trembling body over your own, his head tilted back, black hair tousled out of place. His fist remained around his cock, unmoving, still too shocked to move. Your own shaky hand reached for him, ghosting your fingers along his abdominal muscles and breaking him out of his orgasmic trance to look at you with glazed, golden eyes.

His expression, fucked out and boundlessly flustered, made you laugh. You started laughing uncontrollably, shoulders shaking as you tried to restrain yourself, choosing instead to pull him down with you, burying your gleeful smile and airy laughs into his neck instead. Law cringed slightly at the feeling of his own release rubbing between your two stomachs, but the way you embraced him in your exposed glory, completely vulnerable to him, made him instantly forget about the temporary discomfort. He used his less dirty hand to cup your cheek, tilting your head to press a smattering of kisses along your face before resting on your smiling lips, loving the feeling of joyful laughs still leaving your spent body.

“I’m sorry I’m laughing again,” you said quietly. “That was incredible.”

Law couldn’t blame you for your reaction in the slightest. After weeks of pent up anxiety, miscommunication and worry, the two of you had finally experienced what you had been longing for so deeply, so carnally. Law wanted to make sure you could feel the same joy, the same euphoria, each time you were with him in every moment you spent together. Your laugh was freeing. Your unrestrained giggles the reminder that he so desperately needed.

There was nothing wrong with him. There was nothing wrong with you.

The moment comes naturally. And Law promised himself right then and there, as you clutched onto his body above you like you would disappear without him, that he would do anything to keep that smile on your face, the anxiety out of your mind, and his heart in your hands.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

BONUS

You would describe Law like a scallop. A hard outer shell that refuses to open up, bumbling blindly through the water away from anything he deems as a threat. His grace and elegance as a pirate captain came with countless years of adjusting to normal human interaction, which left him in an odd stance between an awkward, struggling kid, and a maladaptive, anxious adult. But when the ridged shell was finally cracked open, exposing the soft, fragile insides, was when the facets of his personality would radiate forth. He was dynamic, emotional, impulsive, selfish, fearful, confident, boundlessly strong and yet weaker than a detached leaf all at the same time.

And you loved that about him. Your love for the stone-cold pirate captain ran deeper than the trenches of the ocean you sailed above, was warmer than the sun that beat down on the outer deck when you surfaced, and was more tender than the finest cuisine.

Your new favorite thing about Law, to add to the ever growing list that you kept within the recesses of your mind, was the fact that he was still just as apprehensive around you as he had been when you first started dating. A few nights ago, he came all over your stomach as you lay beneath him a shivering, trembling mess, but when you gently knocked on his office door to wish him a good morning, he looked at you with eyes as wide as saucers, mouth curled in a nervous, boyish grin, kissing you like it was his first ever. Like a scallop, he would open and close sporadically, spoiling you with his delectable emotions behind the safety of closed doors, and impressing you with his harsh command of his crew on the outside.

He laughed at you when you told him your analogy.

“A scallop? I’m a scallop to you?” he asked, chuckling as he scribbled down notes in a wrinkled, coffee-stained notebook. His entire back and neck were hunched over the metal counter in his medical ward, taking inventory of the medicines he kept stocked behind the locked cabinets.

You were bustling around the room behind him, diligently cleaning dust, sand, and salt residue out of sterile corners and shelves. “Yes! You’re hard on the outside and soft on the inside, what’s not to get?”

“Scallops move like bumbling idiots. I would appreciate something more like a crab. Or maybe even a lobster.” When you turned your head to face him, he was already gazing at you, his left hand making a pincer motion similar to a crab’s claw.

You snorted. “Just for that, you’re going to be a slug now. No more shells for you.”

“You’re just gonna leave me out in the open like that? Not even a skeleton?”

“Fine, you can be a squid.” You wrung your damp washcloth into the metal bucket situated on the floor by your feet, draping it over the side to free your hands and wipe them dry on your boiler suit.

The laugh that bubbled out of Law made your heart flutter in your chest. You never would have guessed that your casual, stupid banter while doing mindless chores would be something you’d enjoy so much, but you had come to realize that you enjoyed every aspect of life a whole lot more when it was spent with Law. In the days that followed your successful first shared sexual encounter, especially. Since then, you have started to feel so much more confident in yourself, in your looks, your abilities, and your feelings. You felt like you understood your boyfriend on an even deeper level now, cherishing the way he seemed to unfold himself in front of you, knowing that there was almost nothing left to hide from you anymore. You had seen each other at your most vulnerable, and the outcome was more beautiful than the most glorious sunset.

Law’s voice snapped you back to reality. “I think you’d be a Mola Mola.”

You threw your wrung-out towel across the room, giggling as it smacked his hunched back in between his shoulder blades. It made a squelching sound as it plopped to the floor behind him. He whipped around to face you, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Is the sunfish mad at me?”

“To think you view me so low! I’m heartbroken!” You feigned great offense, placing the back of your hand over your forehead and swaying back and forth. “My life is ruined now, my beloved thinks I’m a sunfish!”

Law bent down to grab the towel you had thrown at him before balling it in his fist and lobbing it back at you, smirking as it landed on your chest and stayed there. Before you had the chance to chuck it back at him, the door to the medical bay creaked as it was pulled open. You felt your heart pang as Law’s expression immediately switched from bright and gleeful to his usual stoic, grouchy demeanor. He still hid from even his crew, only showing his true colors very, very sparingly. You both looked towards the door as Uni popped his head in.

“Sorry to interrupt, just wanted to let you know dinner’s ready. Jean Bart cooked tonight.” The masked man quickly stepped back out into the hallway, letting the heavy steel door close on its own.

Your eyes glanced back toward Law as his expression softened only slightly. You bent down to place the washcloth over the rim of your cleaning bucket before finally walking over to your boyfriend and nudging his arm.

“Sorry,” you simply murmured.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“Your face changed so quickly, like you didn’t want him to see you smiling.”

Law hummed, a sound that stayed low in his throat. He turned back toward the counter, picking up his pen once more and writing a few extra bullets in his notebook. You stood patiently, lips sealed as you waited for his next movement or word.

“Don’t ever apologize for making me smile,” he said, tone deep and volume minimal.

Your stomach did backflips in your abdomen.

Law’s pen made a clicking sound as he placed it on the counter, lifting his notebook to shut the cover and store it in a specific labeled drawer. He finally turned back to gaze at you, face slowly softening more and more. He approached you, running an inked hand across your cheek and down to your neck before placing a sweet kiss on the corner of your lips.

“I still don’t know how to share with my crew what I share with you.”

You knew what he meant. His emotions, his insecurities, all the vulnerabilities that he revealed to you behind closed doors in the form of nervous kisses and wavering whispers were sides of himself that he would never be caught showing his crew. He needed to keep the facade of the strong captain they needed him to be, unmoving when the waves violently rocked his ship and unwavering when his skin would be sliced by an enemy’s sword. Law’s biggest issue remained that he couldn’t even say the word ‘emotion’ without feeling like less of a man. You just hoped that, one day, he’d be able to say it.

You smiled. “I know, it’s hard for you. But that’s alright.”

Law would wonder until his final breath how he was lucky enough to find himself with a person as understanding and sympathetic as you were. It wasn’t fair to you that he kept himself closed off until he was forced to open, how you poured your heart out to him at every waking moment while he struggled to share his feelings with you. You told him ‘I love you’ many times even before your first time sleeping together, and he was yet to say it back. The words felt like molten iron on his tongue.

But you stayed by his side regardless. Your love never wavered. You didn’t care how long it would take him to say those three words to you as long as you were able to keep him with you, as long as you were able to kiss him and thread his fingers through yours and feel his body pressed against yours under the warm sheets in his bed. You didn’t care as long as he was there.

Law sucked in a deep inhale through his nostrils as his golden eyes examined your expression. You simply gazed back at him, waiting for any response.

“You’re wonderful,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.” You grabbed his hand in yours pulling him towards the door. “Let’s go get food before your crew devours it all!”

He followed you with no protest, gripping your hand in his. When he squeezed, you squeezed back. Before you rounded the final corner to enter the galley, Law pressed a kiss to your cheek.

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miratastic · 22 days

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Feyd cockwarming 💡😈

i have so many thoughts about this.

whenever you’re in a particularly subby or small headspace, you love crawling into feyd’s lap and sinking down onto his thick cock. the stretch makes your brain buzz so nicely, makes you feel so floaty and good. feyd is big in all aspects, big cock, big hands, big legs, big everything. your thighs would perch on top of his, one of his hands wrapping itself possessively around your waist while the other rubs your ass. you’d burrow your head in his neck, sucking the skin there to mark him for everyone to see. feyd is big into marking, he likes bruising and biting your pretty skin, and adores it when you do the same. he’d smirk at how far under you are and how you periodically clench around him. it’s hard for feyd to stop himself from desperately fucking up into you. he gives you enough time to destress and relax whilst impaled on him before he goes completely animalistic.

on the other hand, feyd uses cockwarming as a punishment. say you’ve been bad today; you’ve been ignoring him, not listening, you’re touching up the guards more intimately than you have to. feyd doesn’t have a lot of patience, but when it comes to discipline? he can sit there and punish you for hours on end before he so much so as even thinks of fucking you. his favourite way to do it is to get you completely naked while he still has all his clothes on. it’s a humiliation tactic that works wonderfully on you. feyd would force you to sit on his lap, the real punishment being that you aren’t allowed to face him. he places you with your back to his chest, and pries your legs apart so he can force himself into you. he doesn’t prep you (why would he it’s your punishment) and it fucking hurts. on a good night where he’s spent hours dutifully spreading you open so you can take him somewhat comfortably, it still pinches when he slides in. on a night like this, feyd relishes your pained cries and how your legs jerk in his hold from the intrusion.

“stay still,” he’d hiss at you. if you so much so as clenched a little too hard he’d pull himself out and use his belt on you.

feyd would make you sit on his cock for hours. you’re leaking around him, dripping onto his balls and the bedsheets underneath. you’re crying too, you just want to look at him, want to see him. it feels so detached and isolating not being able to face him. no matter how much you cry or how much you plead and apologise, feyd wouldn’t give in. it would hurt him, to keep you in a position like this for so long, but discipline was discipline and if this was the only way to fix your behaviour then he would do it over and over again.

when he finally thinks you’ve had enough, he’d slip himself out, and you’d gush around nothing. he’s throughly split you open, your hole gaping with your arousal. feyd would pick you off his lap and lay you down on his bed. the second you see him again you start crying relieved tears. he’s rock hard and instead of fucking you like you think he will, he fists his cock over your body until he cums, using you as a literal cumdump.

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune #feyd imagine #feyd smut #feyd x reader #feyd x you #dune imagine #feyd rautha smut #dune smut #feyd rautha oneshot #feyd rautha imagine #feyd fanfiction #feyd oneshot #dune fanfiction #dune part two #feyd blurb #smut

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celestie0 · 4 months

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jjk men reaction to lingerie & also what kind they like most.

helloooo i was bored and wanted to write headcannons for how the jjk men would react when they see you in lingerie and also which types of lingerie would have them acting up lol

➸ incudes nanami, gojo, toji, geto, choso, sukuna ✩ cw. nsfw, sexual content, bdsm/pain (just bc of sukuna)

nanami kento. thigh-high stockings & lace robes

this man loooooves lingerie on his woman. he'd definitely be the one that bought like all of the sets that you have in your wardrobe. it's a ritual to him where he buys you a nice dress with some matching stockings for date nights, he takes you out to an expensive restaurant and has you sittin' pretty across from him, you're teasing him with a show of your lingerie underneath any chance you get until he just can't take it anymore and he's fucking you in the restaurant bathroom. he likes waking up in the morning and seeing you do your hair or your makeup with a nice lace robe on, it's romantic but erotic at the same time. it's also sooo territorial for him that the clothing that's covering the most intimate parts of you have been purchased and chosen by him.

gojo satoru. see-through stuff & bowties

gojo likes lingerie, he always thinks it's a nice surprise, i don't think he would explicitly ask you to wear it but it always gets a reaction out of him when you do. definitely the type of guy to be like 'babe you look soooo sexy in this, but you know when you look your sexiest? when you're wearing nothing at all' and he thinks he's being flattering when in reality you're upset because you spent so much time picking something out that you thought he would like. and then when he sees you're upset, he starts backtracking like 'nooo, i mean, you look sexiest covered up' and then now you're offended. and he never ends up getting laid that night. he would so love the little bowtie across the tits that he gets to pull loose because he thinks it's cute you're like a present for him.

toji fushiguro. crotchless panties & thongs

listen, i really cannot imagine this man caring much for lingerie at all. he probably thinks it's useless and he would ruin all your favorite sets anytime he's tryna fuck because he's too impatient and rough with the flimsy little things. you're whining because he just tore through your favorite cute lace panties and he's saying something like 'anything that stands between you and me fucking you has got to go, sweetheart'. if you ask him to buy you some for valentine's day or something, he'd think you're joking. one day he sees you wearing a thong underneath your low-rise jeans and it awakens something visceral in him, and that ends up being pretty much the only lingerie he ends up liking on you. also, random, but toji's definitely the type to tell you to keep your heels on when he's got you otherwise completely naked and is fucking you.

geto suguru. corsets & garter belts

of all the jjk men, geto would probably be the most appreciative and responsive to seeing you in lingerie. he'd be so sweet when he sees that you've worn something sexy under your clothing like you wore this just for me, my love? and he'd play with you, ask you to do a little twirl or a dance for him to show it off before he's got you on the bed. he's into the classics like the full garter belt set or bustiers/corsets that show off your figure. he's the type to keep it on during sex, just slide the fabric to the side when he wants to fuck you or pull it up or out of the way if he wants access to your tits. he looooves when you send him nudes all dolled up at home while he's out somewhere, counting the minutes until he can get home to you. he'd also be into that boudoir photoshoot stuff, he thinks lingerie is an art form and it really turns him on.

choso kamo. slip dresses & babydolls

i feel like choso would have reaaaally old-fashioned taste in lingerie, he's into slip dresses and vintage stuff, not so much the really lacy or obviously sexy stuff. he would get so worked up seeing you in something like a silk nightgown while you're getting ready for bed or tidying up the room and just comes up behind you to pet at the fabric and the way it clings to your curves. he's also into babydolls, which is probably because that's his exact pet name for you, and anytime you wear one around him just to be a tease he's like dissociating all day because he can't stop thinking about fucking you senseless in the frilly thing. he'd ultimately take any sort of lingerie/clothing off when you two get down to it because he's into fully naked you the most, but something about leaving a lot to the imagination before that just drives him crazy.

ryomen sukuna. bdsm lingerie & chokers

honestly i was like would sukuna even like lingerie...but i think he'd be into anything that has chokers, chains, belts, straps, he'd definitely be into those type that don't cover any part of your tits. you'd bring him a pair of cute fuzzy handcuffs one day and he thinks it's ridiculous before chaining you to the bed and playing with you all night long until you're squirming and squealing underneath him. he likes the lingerie as more of an accessory where it looks like you've been tied and wrapped up just for him, pulling and releasing at the straps so they snap against you and there are red marks on your skin from the outline of your lingerie the next day. any color other than black would be unacceptable. i could honestly see anything that was overly frilly or lacy would be a massive turn-off for him and he'd rather you just be naked.

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sometimesanalice · 1 year

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Give Me Your Hand {Here Is My Heart}

Summary: You’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what it would be like to be in Bradley Bradshaw’s bed, and now you finally get to find out. (Spoiler: It’s even better than you could have ever imagined.)

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K+

Warnings: so much smut with a side of fluff (Minors DNI)

(This is a 2-Part series for the “Like I Can” Universe. However, it can be read on its own!) Read Part 1 here!

“Well, are you coming?”

You are two lace trimmed bits of cotton away from being naked, and you can feel his heated gaze traveling over your body as you walk towards his stairs with a teasing sway of your hips.

If you had known you were going to end your night shimmying down your little red dress in front of Bradley, you might have tried to wear something a bit more underneath it, just for him.

But there was no missing the intensity and the desire that was in his eyes as he had watched you strip before him. It was more than clear that liked what he saw.

The appreciative way Bradley was looking at you made your everyday underwear feel sexier than La Perla ever could.

You don’t get very far before your whole world tilts as you’re lifted off the ground and tossed over his broad shoulder.

“Oh my god, Bradley! Warn a girl.” The sound coming out of you part gasp, part laugh.

“Heads up, kid.” There is no missing the smug smile in his voice, as he grips you a little tighter.

You’re dangling behind him trying to support yourself on his lower back, a useless endeavor since every step he takes up the stairs only serves to make you lose your grasp.

“Are you sure you got a strong enough hold on my ass there, Bradshaw?” you complain flippantly.

You wiggle a little trying to alleviate some of the pressure on your stomach.

“Stop trying to distract me,” he grunts, digging his fingertips further into the fleshy muscle in a way you didn’t mind at all. “I’m carrying some precious cargo.”

He tops off the end of his sentence with a light swat of his hand on your other cheek like he would a cherry on a sundae. And you have to bite your lip to keep from making the noise that was trying to crawl it’s way out of your throat, one that would give away just how much you liked his strong hands on your ass.

Bradley stops at the first door on the left and bends a little as he eases you off his shoulder. You lean back against the wall watching self-indulgently as he straightens up in front of you.

There is nothing subtle about Bradley Bradshaw. Not the commanding way he enters a room. Not the force of his energetic smile. Not the powerful build of his body. And definitely not the way he is checking you out.

It’s your first time being up here, there’s never been a reason to come upstairs before. You can’t help but wonder if the spaces here have the same sense of functional practicality as his downstairs does. Everything has a purpose, but nothing has much of a personality.

And Bradley has the best personality.

Maybe if you ask nicely he will let you help him pick out some things to make his place feel more like a home. More like him.

Reaching out you thread a finger through one of his belt loops and tug him closer to you. Bradley grins as he comes to crowd you against the wall before leaning in to kiss you, his warm hands coming up to frame your face.

For the other men you’ve dated in the past, kissing was a means to an end. A mandatory part of foreplay to perform in order to speed things along. But with Bradley, he kisses you with a type of single-minded determinedness that always sends your heart racing.

He has never been the type to do anything half-heartedly. Kissing is the agenda. It is the main course. He is happy to take his time to savor the taste and feel of you. He’s not thinking about how quickly he can move on to the next thing. He kisses you like he couldn’t dream of doing anything else.

You have never felt so entirely treasured in your life as you do right now outside of his bedroom in his arms.

It’s hard to fight back the smile that makes it impossible for him to keep his lips on yours, and when he pulls back the look on his face is nothing short than pure fondness.

“I’m excited to have you like this,” you admit to him, soft and sure.

It would be a new first, a new moment, a new memory. His and yours alone.

“Yeah?” he asks with a gentle smile quirked to one side. “I am too.” He settles his hands on your hips, his thumbs skimming over the skin at right above the waistband of your panties. “We go at your speed, sweet girl. As much or as little as you want. Whatever you want is what I want too.”

“And if I want everything?”

“Then I’ll give you everything,” he promises, pulling you close to get his mouth on yours again. You could taste the unspoken always in his kiss.

There was still a small part of you that was nervous about what feelings could come up in the after, the worry that bittersweet what-ifs could color all of your perfect memories with him. But you were done with not letting yourself have everything you want with him.

And with one more indulgent kiss to his lips, you take his hand and lead the way into his bedroom.

Bradley lingers near the door as he watches you take in his bedroom. One could call it snooping, but he knew you’d have some other smart-assed term for it.

He had been able to tell that something was on your mind for a while. And the last thing he wanted to do was put pressure on this new thing between the two of you by making you talk about it before you were ready.

You had always been in his life, but when you moved to San Diego after living separate lives for over fifteen years, he couldn’t deny that it felt different being around you again. In a good way, in the best way.

And those terrible dates you went on had made him come to terms with his feelings much earlier than you. Bradley knew exactly what he wanted with you, and he would give you all the time you needed to get there too.

He is amused, but not surprised, when the first thing you do is go to investigate is his bookshelf. Your fingers skimming the spines as you read over the titles.

It’s mainly a collection of NATOPS manuals he’s memorized inside and out from the aircrafts he’s been trained to use and other technical handbooks, along with his old collection of the Hardy Boys, a few political biographies and mystery novels he hasn’t had the chance to read yet.

He had felt like such an idiot when he made that joke about sleeping with the enemy in your car on the way to the surprise movie date you had planned for him. He hadn’t missed the way your body had tensed up. Or how you would always pull back and stumble over some flimsy reason why you had to call it a night when things would get on the exciting side of too heated or too physical.

He knew that you would come around to telling him what was holding you back on your own time, he just didn’t expect it to be after you had come in his lap from rubbing yourself on him in that sinful dress of yours.

The one that taunted and tempted him from the second he had opened his door that night. The one now a heap somewhere on the floor of his living room.

“So why do men love bitches, Bradley?” The question shakes him from his musings.

You turn to him with a mischievous smile painted on your pretty face as you gleefully show off the book that he had completely forgotten about like you have hit the jackpot.

“How do I still have that?” He huffs a laugh crossing towards you, leaning on hip on his desk to get a closer look. “Nat give it to me after I broke up with my ex a few years ago, they never got along. She even drew some red flags on the paper she wrapped it in when she gave it to me.”

“Ah, that explains the inscription. ‘Know the playbook, so you don’t get played again.’” you read with a snort. “For what it’s worth, I never liked Paige either. She was always seemed like such a shit-stirrer. Good thing you came to your senses. He’s pretty and smart, folks.” You send him a playful little wink before you go back to your investigation of his room.

It’s not even a contest, you are his absolute favorite person in this world.

And you look so perfect, so real in your nude bra and white panties in his bedroom. He likes that this wasn’t planned, that he gets to have you so authentically. He wants you just as you are.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he can’t help but wonder a little self-consciously what his space must look like to you through your eyes as you wander around.

His room is a mismatched collection of furniture that people have passed along to him over the years. Stuff that others didn’t need or that they upgraded from to something newer and better. Everything else that wasn’t donated to him were easily assembled things from IKEA.

He didn’t mind it in here, but he’s also never particularly liked it. It’s always just been a place to sleep.

He has his sturdy wood bed frame against one wall, it creaks sometimes when he turns over but he that’s what he got for putting it together after a few of beers. There is large print hung above it so the wall wasn’t totally bare. Next to his bookcase was a desk and small filing cabinet. He has a spare room in his condo that he has been meaning to turn into an office, but this set up was familiar to him after so many years of living in the barracks.

But if you were going to be here with him, Bradley wanted you to be comfortable in his home. Maybe he could find a few new things for the room to make it nicer, cozier for you with stuff that wasn’t other peoples’ cast offs.

There was only one nightstand for fuck’s sake, which is where he watches you linger in front of now.

“Wait, Bradley. Is this…” you trail off, picking up the framed sheet music from his nightstand. Your finger traces over the upper righthand corner in the exact spot where he knows three vibrant blazing fireballs decorate the page.

Hand-drawn by a ten-year-old you.

They were overly cartoonish in the way that most kids’ drawings were at that age. But it was obvious you had spent time on it for him by the way the reds, oranges, and yellows of your colored penciled artwork had been perfectly blended.

“Yeah.” He has to clear his throat, “Yeah, it is.”

“I can’t believe you still have this,” you say quietly.

You had given him the book of sheet music that included his favorite crowd-pleasing song to play on the piano for his twelfth birthday. He had had the notes memorized for almost a decade before he had put it in a frame, he had wanted to have this reminder of home with him instead of sitting in a box somewhere.

Other than the mounted toy fighter jet his mom had given him, it was the only thing that he had always taken with him as he moved around the world from base to base.

He thought he had seen every expression that’s ever crossed your face, but you have never looked at him like quite like this before. Your face is filled with such tenderness and something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Well, you know what Marie Kondo says about things that sparks joy,” he jokes light-heartedly, trying to find his footing again.

“Is there anything else in here that sparks joy in here?” You put the frame back down, observing him with your head tilted to the side as you sat on his bed and leaned back on your hands. It did amazing things to your chest.

“I can think of one or two things,” he says, playing along. You look so perfect in his bed, it was going to feel too big without you in it now.

“Are you going to come join me? Or do you just want to keep on checking out my breasts from over there?” you ask teasingly, pushing yourself back further on top of his bed. Your feet are resting on the edge, knees knocked together swaying enticingly from side to side.

You are easily the prettiest thing in his room.

Bradley takes his time as he saunters over to come join you at the bed. But when he comes to stand at the edge of the mattress, you stop him with a dainty foot to his chest.

“That’s bold of you to assume you this is a clothing permitted establishment,” you say popping up onto your elbows, applying a bit more force to where you’re pressing into him.

“Is that so?” he hums. Wrapping his hand around your ankle, he lets his thumb circle over the rounded joint there. “You know you’re in my room, in my bed, right?”

“Mm-hmm. I’m very aware. I like how it smells like you in here.” He watches as your hand makes indistinguishable shapes on the top of his linen duvet, “I’ve got to say, I’m pretty sure I’ve the best view in the house right now.”

He rakes his eyes over your figure, “Hm, think we’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.”

“You might be right,” you tell him cheekily, “My view could be so much better if you’d take some clothes off.”

“You sayin’ you want a show, kid?”

“I wouldn’t say no to one, if you are offering,” you say stretching like a satisfied cat. And there are those dimples of yours. If only you knew how just how gone he was for them.

“I can give you a show.” His voice is whiskey smooth as he squeezes your ankle.

Bradley holds your hot, greedy gaze as he removes his watch and sets it down on the nightstand. The way he undoes the buttons on his shirt could almost be called lazy if it weren’t for the purposeful way he watched your every shallow breath, as he listened to your unsteady exhales.

He has to tap on your foot to remind you to lift it off of his chest so that he can take his shirt off. You rest that foot high on his thigh instead, dangerously close to his quickly hardening cock. And then he is tugging his shirt off and tossing it somewhere behind him.

The fabric of his comforter is clenched tight beneath your fists.

Reaching behind his neck he grasps the collar of his tank, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion making sure that his biceps and abs are flexed for your benefit. If you wanted something to look at, he was going to give you an eyeful.

He lets out a satisfied sound as lets his hand indulgently, leisurely trail down his chest, down his abdomen as he watches you steadily. There is no reason for him to hold back his proud smirk when sees the way your lips part as he reaches the top of his jeans.

“How am I doing?” he drawls knowingly.

Your eyes are glued to his hand as he languidly unbuckles his belt.

“Good. Yeah, very good.” He sees the way you swallow hard as he begins to pull it out from his belt loops. The thick tension building between the two of you has his pulse pounding.

He likes the desire he sees reflected in your eyes as you take him in, “I’d leave you at least four-stars on Yelp.”

Bradley lets his belt fall to the floor, it lands with a satisfying clunk. Your eyes fly to his at the sound.

“Mm, only four-stars? Such a tough critic,” he muses lightly as he casually runs his finger up and down your calf. “What’s a guy gotta do to get five?”

You’re devouring him with your eyes and he wants to take over the way you’re nibbling on your lower lip with his teeth. “Drop the denim, Bradshaw.”

“You’re right, it’s only fair,” he concedes, admiring the way your nipples are raised against the cups of your bra. He teases a finger under the black elastic band that is peeking out from over the top of his favorite jeans, “I’m telling you now that what’s under these isn’t anywhere as pretty as what you’ve got on.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that, thank you very much,” you say as primly as possible given how affected you are, pressing your foot harder into the muscle of his thigh. “Plus, I think you’re plenty pretty.”

God, he loves that he gets to have you like this.

That even when you’re both half naked and riled up you can still banter with each other. That he can still make you smile and you can still make him laugh all while the undercurrent of need pulses around you.

“Bradley, come on.” The hint of whine that accompanies the way you say his name goes straight to his cock. He wouldn’t mind hearing you beg sweetly for him sometime, but not tonight.

He was going to give you whatever you wanted.

“Patience, sweet girl. I’m putting on a show here, remember?” he tells you with a playful grin as he bends over your body to kiss you deeply. Your legs part for him and come up to hug his hips. When he pulls away after a few moments you move to sit up, chasing the feeling of his mouth on yours. But he puts a hand to your sternum pressing you back down onto his bed with his fingertips before standing up to his full height above you.

The silence in the room is deafening as he unbuttons the top of his jeans. And then he is slowly pulling his zipper down for you.

Your heart is hammering as Bradley peels off those form-fitting jeans of his strong legs.

His body is a work of art. You could stare for hours and still find something new to admire. From the rounded definition of his shoulders, the smattering of chest hair between his full pectorals, the ridges and valleys of his abs, to the v-shaped muscles that lead your eyes directly to the outline of his hard, thick cock that you’re getting an up-close look at for the first time.

It looks as good as the rest of him does.

“Good god,” you groan, covering your eyes. “Honestly, Bradley?” The sound of his deep, warm chuckle has you pulling your hands away from your face, he is clearly amused by your reaction. “Be serious with me right now, that is totally how you got your callsign, isn’t it?” Gesturing to his sizable cock with a wave of your hand.

“I’ve told you that story before,” he tells you as he climbs on the bed and settles next to you.

“You’ve told me a story, but I’ve never believed it.” You turn on your side to fully face him, throwing one of your legs over him as nonchalantly as possible, as if it was totally normal to be half-naked in his bed with him. “‘I was just the only morning person on my squad’,” you say lowering your voice mimic his, “I don’t buy it. Not to mention, Natasha always made a face whenever you told that version to someone who was flirting with you.”

“Fine, you really wanna know?” he asks as he squeezes your hip. His cheeks are already lightly flushed, and now you’re downright giddy about this new development. It’s not often you get to see him so bashful around you.

“I knew you were withholding important information from me, Rooster,” you trill.

He grunts something unintelligible before he has you gasping when he grips your thigh and rolls over, pinning you underneath him.

And oh. You like the feel of him pressed against you.

There is something comforting about the weight of his hard, sunkissed body as he relaxes more fully on you. It wasn’t like you didn’t know he was built but the sheer sturdiness of him and how he fits with you like this is so good it’s dizzying.

He really is so handsome. With his face this close to yours, you can see every shade of brown in his pretty eyes. You bring a hand up to his face, letting your fingers brush over the coarse hairs of his mustache.

“Don’t think that just because you manhandled me, that you’re off the hook here. I’m not so easily distracted.” It’s a lie, but you think you pull it off well.

“Ok, ok,” he relents, kissing your fingertips then guiding your hand around to the base of his neck. “There are usually two versions of the story that pilots will tell, the one that makes them look good and the one that actually happened. But most pilots get their callsign from doing something stupid or screwing something up.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” you say with a teasing grin. “Which category do you fall in?”

“Believe it or not, both,” he admits ruefully. A small boyish smile on his face.

“Oh, I believe it,” you beamed.

“So,” he continues, with a fond shake of his head, “There was a girl I used to hook up with in my squadron. We had a friends with benefits type thing for a while when we were first deployed.” That made you scrunch you nose, he chuckles leaning in to kiss your cheek. “But she was always, uh, loud. Especially when I would go down on her.” He says that last part in a rush, almost like he is trying to gloss over it.

It wasn’t a secret to you that Bradley had gotten around, you had heard the whispers when you visited him at UVA and in the bathroom at the Hard Deck when you had first moved here. And it wasn’t like you had been sitting on your couch knitting like some Jane Austen spinster, you have had your fun too.

“Mmm-hmm.” You stroke his leg with your foot encouraging him to continue.

He is entirely adorable in the way he full-blown blushing now as he tries so hard not to fidget, even as his fingers idly play with the strap of your bra.

“We were fooling around early one morning after she has stayed over. Which I am sure you can guess, that kind of socializing was very much frowned upon,” he allows with a sheepish dip of his head. “As it turned out, one of the Petty Officers decided to do a surprise barracks inspection that morning. And, uh, well, we didn’t hear his arrival and the announcement or any of the noise in the hallway-”

“Because you’re good with your mouth,” you gleefully interject.

“You said it not me, kid,” he says nudging your cheek with his nose. You are grinning so wide now because he is getting so flustered as his story goes on. “So fast forward to us getting caught in the act. They let her run back to her own barrack, but I had to stand there at attention for the whole inspection in my boxer briefs with a hard-on.

The mental image of that was equal parts amusing and appealing, especially after the show he just gave you.

“And since my clothes were still on the ground from the night before, I got an auto-fail for having gear adrift. They even called in some of the guys from my unit to double check the inspection results and make an example out of my, um, indiscretion. After that, well, Rooster stuck.”

“I knew it!” you hoot before bursting into a fit of laughter. “I knew there had to be an X-rated reason, you dirty bird. Oh my god, Bradley! No wonder why Nat can’t keep a straight face.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he chuckles good-naturedly, his eyes crinkling in the corner. “There you have it, that’s the whole story. And just so you know, it is literally on the record that I was an early riser when I got written up for it. So technically that part is true.”

“In more ways than one,” you titter with a lewd wiggle of your eyebrows.

He looks up to the ceiling and groans, “How long are you going to tease me about this, kid?”

You make a big show about doing the math in your head until he nips at your collarbone.

“Probably for as long as you’ve had your callsign, I’ve got a few years to catch up on. It’s only fair since you lied to me, your best friend, for so long. I’m wounded,” you lament unconvincingly.

“I had an image as a responsible adult to maintain.” That makes you snort as you wrap both of your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you.

You half-heartedly roll your eyes, “I’m only two years younger than you.”

“Mm, that makes you the baby here,” he hums against your neck. “Wasn’t gonna give you the full version back then, not when you had such impressionable ears.”

His body is so warm, so solid against yours. And his thigh is pressing into the center of you. You’re surprised how quickly he can go from making you laugh to making you squirm.

“You know what I don’t get?” you muse tugging on his curls.

He runs mustache along your neck, “Enlighten me.”

“Why would they punish you when they could have just made you pose for the cover of a Navy pamphlet? Seems a little shortsighted, if you ask me,” you quip, a bit breathlessly. “I mean, they’d be turning down new recruits left and right. Everyone would be so inspired to serve their country. Propaganda with a side of eye candy.”

Bradley pinches your waist, making you yelp and rock against him. He sucks in a sharp breath at the contact. The mood shifting instantly from playful into something else entirely.

“You like what you see, huh?” He shifts his weight into his arms, lifting up a bit. Not only do you have a stellar view of his abs now, but also of his defined biceps by your head.

“Are you fishing for compliments, Rooster?” You glide your fingers along the crests of his ribs.

“I don’t mind getting my ego stroked every now and then.”

“What about other things?” you murmur, sliding your hand in between your bodies to grasp him through his boxer briefs.

He groans your name before claiming your mouth for a hot kiss.

“Come on, Bradley. I want the full experience,” you pant against his lips, “I heard how the girls talked about you.”

“I’ve learned a few more things since then,” he rasps, grinding himself more fully against you.

“Good, I’d hope so. Now, show me.”

Show me. Show me. Show me.

He can’t keep his mouth or hands in one place for too long. He wants to taste you everywhere. He wants to touch you everywhere.

You are looking at him with such open want. Your pupils blown wide, your lips kiss-swollen. He was unprepared for just how perfect your body would feel under his. You’re so beautiful spread out before him on his bed. Green might be his favorite color on you, he was biased, but you looked stunning pillowed against his navy duvet.

He had told you he’d give you anything you wanted and he meant it. If you wanted the full experience then he was going to give you the best damn time of your life.

Bradley licks his lips before lowering his head back down for a kiss, moaning at the slide of your wet, soft lips against his. He loves the sound your needy whine as you cant your hips against him.

You tilt your neck to the side giving him more room to get his mouth on the delicate column of your throat. The smell of your perfume and shampoo makes his blood thrum in his veins. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this desperate for someone in his life as he is for you.

He slips his hand around your ribcage and under you, groaning when your breasts rub against his chest as you arch into him. He runs his fingers along the band of your bra feeling for the little clasps that are preventing you from being bared before him.

After the third pass he makes, you pull away from his mouth with a little grin, “Bradley, it’s a front clasp”. Taking pity on him you guide his hand to the shiny little closure resting in the valley between your breasts.

He chuckles self-deprecatingly toying with it for a second before asking, “You mean to tell me this is both pretty and functional?”

Your giggle turns into a whimper when he flicks it open and pulls it off of you. Tossing it somewhere to be discovered later.

And then his is finally, finally getting to see you in the way he’s spent many nights with his hand wrapped around his cock imagining.

“How are you so soft everywhere?” he murmurs tracing a finger down your bare sternum. He rubs his mustache over the sensitive tips of your pebbled nipples before claiming one with his mouth.

Your hands fly to his hair as he sucks and teases this newly uncovered part of you. He moans as you start grinding against him in earnest before switching over to the other, his hand coming up to cup and squeeze the taut bud that was wet and shiny from his mouth.

The sounds you are making are nothing like he has ever heard from you before. And he can’t wait to spend hours with your body learning all the things that make you whimper and whine and sigh.

With one more flick of his tongue against your nipple, he trails hungry kisses down your neck. He stops once to admire the little freckle high on your right ribcage before continuing his way down your body. He likes how easily your legs fall open for him as he settles himself at the center of you. At how much trust you are handing over to him.

“You still doing good, sweet girl?” he asks into the crease of your thigh.

“So, so good,” you exhale roughly. One of your hands is skimming along the skin of his shoulders, your delicate finger stroking over the scar there. “Five-stars, Bradley. Easily.”

“Mm, you sure I deserve that? Haven’t done anything to earn it,” he hums, teasing kisses along the lace edge of your white panties. “Haven’t even made you come yet.”

“Bradley.”

“Can I take these off and make you come with my mouth?” He slides a finger under the elastic band. “Can I earn that five-stars?”

“Yes, yes,” you nod rapidly, “I want that.”

Bradley slides his thumbs under the sides of your perfectly practical panties and starts to pull the last of your clothing off. He’s dreamt about you naked and on display for him, he is eager to discover every freckle, every mole, every scar on you.

You are almost revealed to him when he stops. His eyes snag on a spot on the inside of your right hipbone. A tattoo.

The tattoo.

He remembers the night at the Hard Deck when he had learned about its existence with picture perfect clarity.

Fanboy had been showing off the fresh ink on his forearm for the full sleeve he was in the process of getting, which had then turned into display of skin as his friends pulled up and rolled up their clothes to share their own. It was probably for the best that he had an aversion to needles or else he probably could have ended up with some misspelled Latin phrase like Payback had along his forearm.

Just as Hangman had finished tugging his shirt back down, he had turned towards you at the tall stool you were sitting on and asked, “What about you, darlin’? Anything to share with the class?”

There was gleam in his eye that Bradley had not appreciated in the slightest. Especially since he had made it perfectly clear that his best friend was off limits to the group of cocky aviators.

You had only relocated to San Diego a couple of months ago, and he hadn’t realized how much he had missed living in the same area as you. And you were already fitting in with everyone like you’d been there for years.

“Yeah, I’ve got one,” you shrugged taking a sip of your drink while he nearly choked on his.

“What? No, you don’t,” he asserted as he elbowed Hangman out of the spot he was leaning on next to you.

“Uh, yeah, I definitely do.”

He didn’t get why you were looking at him like he had a second head. You were his best friend, that’s something that definitely would have come up in conversation at some point if you did have one. Right?

“I’ve never seen one on you,” he’d said adamantly.

He eyes quickly traveled over your body, you were in some laidback loose-fitting jeans with rips in them and a creamy colored knit tank top, as he looked for any hint of ink on your skin.

“Well, you wouldn’t,” you said like the reason should be completely obvious to him.

You kicked out at him in annoyance. He caught your foot easily with his hand, and gave it a quick, sharp tug in warning. Smirking at you when you gasped and scrambled to hold onto the stool, “What does that mean?”

“It means it’s not for the viewing public, Rooster,” you huffed at him.

“Sounds like there’s a story here,” Nat interrupted, looking on with keen eyes.

Yanking your leg out of his hand, you went on to tell the story about how you had gotten it done one drunken night at a house party your junior year of college. A “silly, girly thing” was all you’d had to say about it.

“Sounds like you’re lucky you didn’t get hepatitis or a staph infection,” he grumbled. You took the beer out of his hand in retribution and claimed it as your own, while throwing him the middle finger as you took a swig. And he’d let you.

“If it makes you feel better, bird boy, the guy who gave it to me now works at a pretty popular tattoo shop in New York.”

It hadn’t and he never forgot about it.

There had been more than one occasion where he had caught himself looking at you a bit too closely in a swimsuit from behind his aviators at the beach trying to get a glimpse of it.

And now he finally knew.

His fingertips are drawn to the fine, dainty lines of the ink on your skin. The pair of delicate butterflies were placed discreetly on your lower pelvis. One looked like it was in mid-flight with its wings spread wide, while the other was waiting to take off and join it.

“These are pretty, they suit you,” he murmurs leaning in to touch his lips to them. “Definitely not for the viewing public.”

“Just you, Bradley,” you agreed, setting your hands on top of his where on your hips. And together you both work off that last bit of fabric off your body.

“God, you’re so beautiful. I don’t know how I got so lucky, sweet girl.” He kisses your pretty tattoo once more, then the spot below your bellybutton, the top of your pubic bone.

“You said you’d give me your mouth,” you whisper eagerly, your fingers carding through his hair. He loves the way your nails felt against his scalp.

“Whatever you want.” A reminder of the promise he had made to you in the hallway, before he even had you in his bed.

He inches himself even closer to your body, getting one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you to his hungry eyes. This part of you, just like your butterflies, was for his eyes and fingers and mouth alone.

He parts you with his tongue enjoying your little whimper and gives you a couple slow licks as he gets acquainted with your taste. He wants to savor you like a fine wine, to identify all the individual notes that made up the essence of you.

You’re already so wet for him.

And then he is exploring your pretty pussy with unrestrained enthusiasm. Using his tongue and lips to get you squirming before introducing his fingers. Your moans are better than any kind of music as he starts rubbing your clit with gentle precision.

His chest fills with smoky coils of masculine satisfaction as you prop yourself onto your elbows to get a better look at him as he works you with mouth. He holds your intense gaze when he slips one of his fingers inside the silky center of you.

Bradley can feel his heart beating in his throat as he watches your jaw drops in pleasure as you start to lose yourself to his mouth, “Tell me what you like.”

You’re so responsive to his touch. Your knee is trembling on his shoulder as he tries out long, smooth strokes and short, curling thrusts of his fingers determined to learn what makes your toes curl.

“I’ve never—,” you start before stopping, shaking your head.

“Never what, sweet girl?” he repeats, patiently looking up at you from between your legs. He is still circling your clit with his thumb as you work to find your words.

“I’ve never been able to come this way,” you confess like it’s something you’re embarrassed about. “But it feels really good. I just don’t want you to think I’m not enjoying this with you when I can’t get there.”

The burst of red-hot irritation that hits him like truck for all the men who have failed you in the past makes his jaw clench. Men who would prioritize their pleasure over yours.

He knows he is capable of getting you there. He wants to show you, to prove to you just exactly how capable he is about giving you the pleasure you deserve. It’s what he would give you every single time.

“Can I try?” Bradley waits until you nod your head yes, still propped up watching him. He places a kiss to your inner thigh in thanks for trusting him with this. “Tell me what makes you feel good,” he coaxes, “Tell me what you need from me.”

He’s tempted to suck hard enough to leave an indelible mark at the delicate skin of your perfect thigh. He wants you think about being back in his bed with him, when you’re at your apartment in your own bed. He just nips at the spot instead, before kissing it again.

“Can I give you another finger?” he asks.

“Please.” You whimper when runs his thumbnail across your clit before he gives you another one of his fingers.

“So polite,” he teases as he gets his mouth back on you. “I’ll give it to you right.” You clench against his fingers as they sweep against your front wall.

He is so hard, but all he can think about is how good you feel under his hands, under his mouth.

He is watching your face for every expression. He wants to know which motion of his fingers makes your breath catch in your throat. He wants to know what kind of touch makes your eyebrow pinch together and gasp.

Yes. There. More. Just like that.

It doesn’t take him long to get you writhing and keening for him as explores your body as you tell him exactly what you like.

“That, Bradley, that. Don’t stop, please.”

Your pupils are blown wide as you watch him tease his tongue against your clit with a pressure so gentle it makes your whole body shiver. He moans his contentment against your slick-shined center when you reach out to cup his jaw and stroke his cheek with your hand when he finds that spongey spot inside of you.

Your head falls back and you convulse spectacularly as you come with his tongue on you and his fingers in you.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praises low and rough, “So fucking pretty when you come.”

Bradley hopes you can feel his grin against the soft skin of your thigh.

He lets you bask in the warm glow of your orgasm, all while his thumb keeps making the softest of circles against you, “Think you can do it again?”

Your heart is still beating erratically in your chest as you attempt to come down from your orgasm. You still can’t believe he made you come with his mouth in the first place, let alone that he thinks he can get you there again.

And when he puts his hot mouth back on you, your arms give out and you fall back against his soft duvet, “Fuck, Bradley, oh my god.” The feel of his mustache against that sensitive part of you was overwhelming.

Bradley works you like he is trying to erase the memory of any man before him.

The only other sound in the room besides your breathy panting was the wet sounds your body was making as his fingers curled and thrust in and out of you. You’d be embarrassed by it if was anyone else other than Bradley.

Because he is the one making you feel this good.

The coiling sensation in your stomach was tightening with every lick and suck and flick of the tongue he used to bring you closer to the edge. You savored the burn in your hip flexors as his thick forearms held you open for his talented mouth.

“Sorry,” you gasp, unable to control the way your hips roll against his mouth.

“Don’t be. Do it again,” he rasps, gripping your thigh harder, “Use my mouth.”

He hums in satisfaction when you do it again, this time on purpose at his command. The vibrations against your clit reverberate through your whole body as you rock against his mouth and ride his fingers.

The woodsy smell of his bed, the sound of his voice and dirty praise, the feel of his body on yours was building you up much quicker than before. Your hands were fluttering everywhere. In his hair. On your breasts. Tangling in his sheets.

You are hyperaware of his every touch and it has you feeling high strung. You’re there teetering having been built up so stunningly. Your body is pulled taut like piano wires with unreleased pleasure that you just can’t seem to reach.

One of his warm, comforting hands soothes up and down the side of your waist as you twitch and writhe beneath him.

“C’mon, kid. You’re there, I can feel it,” he says pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your tattoo before sealing his mouth over you again. “Want you to come for me.”

For him. For Bradley. You want to come for Bradley.

It is almost instinctual how your body responds when he laces the fingers of his free hand together with yours. You have been feeling so untethered in your own skin by the promise of another deliciously devastating orgasm. The squeeze of his hand is your gravity, anchoring you back in the moment with him

And he is holding more than your hand in his as you fly apart for him. He has your heart.

You can hear his gentle murmurs, but your brain can’t process anything other than a few choice words as he peppers kisses back up your body.

He leans over reaching for the forgotten half-full water glass on his nightstand, probably some misguided attempt to be courteous, but you need his mouth on yours right now. He makes a noise of surprise as you pull him to you, your mouth is already parted and ready to chase the taste of yourself off of his tongue.

It’s slow and languid and just what you need.

“I’ve never come so hard before,” you laugh pulling away from him after a few minutes, the endorphins hitting you hard. “You should lead with that. Bradley-Gives-Great-Head-Rooster-Bradshaw.”

His eyes glimmer with amusement, “I don’t think that would fit on a helmet, but you can introduce me that way if you want.” His voice is smug, but it’s his satisfied smirk that thrills you the most.

“Oh my god, you’re preening! You’re so pleased with yourself right now,” you giggle, your thumbs stroking over his mustache at the wetness still there.

“Damn right I am,” he rasps leaning in for another lingering kiss.

Bradley kisses you like a wildfire, all unrestrained heat. And you will happily burn for him. Under his touch you are regenerated, reenergized, revived.

“I want you,” you breathe into his neck, tugging on the band of his black boxer briefs. His body was already a visual treat and his heart even better, but you want to feel him against the center of you with nothing standing between your body and his.

You don’t want to want anymore, you want to know.

With your help, he pulls them down his strong thighs and off completely. You’re treated to the reminder of just how big he is, it would almost be intimidating if you weren’t so desperate for him.

You run your hand up and down the length of him. He was right that night on the phone, you’d need to use both hands next time.

Savoring the way he drops his head down and pants into your clavicle, the coarse hairs of his mustache rough on your skin in the best way. With your other hand, you play with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. His biceps quaking from where they’re rooted on his mattress next to your head.

You want to make him feel as good as you do.

“Can I go down on you?”

Your mouth would be the end of him.

“Next time,” he grunts out. He’s barely able to think with the way your hand is stroking his cock, let alone speak.

“Haven’t you thought about my mouth on you? Come on, Bradley,” you purr temptingly. You both know you’re not playing fair when you tighten your grip on him.

“Shit.” He’s breathing hard now. “Of course, I have. I thought about it this morning when I got myself off in the shower, sweet girl.”

He’s treated to both the sight of your dimples and the clever twist of your wrist at his confession. He knows you think you’re going to get your way, like you usually do, so he changes tactics, “I promise, the next round you can do whatever you want to me.”

“Already planning for round two, huh?”

“Yeah, kid,” he says hoarsely, “Did you think this was just going to be one and done?”

You collect some of the precum from the tip of his cock with your thumb and lick it off as you look up at him doe-eyed and innocent, “Well then, I hope you can keep up, Lieutenant.”

A feral groan rips from him and he drops his head down to yours feeding you his tongue. He dominates your mouth as he slides and swirls his against yours. You whimper prettily as both flavors melt across your tongue.

“Do you like the way we taste?” he rumbles, his voice like gravel.

Bradley doesn’t know how to interpret the sound you make or the way you choke out oh my god.

“Sorry, too much?” he asks raggedly, checking in. The last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable because he can’t stop from running his mouth.

“God, no. I’ve never been so turned on, Bradley,” you pant, as you rock your warm, wet pussy against him. “Don’t want you to hold back with me.”

You’re both naked and it’s no secret how this night is going to end. He loses himself to the feel of you as you roll your hips against him, whining every time the head of his cock connects with your swollen clit.

“Hold on, hold on,” he doesn’t know why he feels nervous bringing it up, but he needs too while he still has the brain function to talk about it. “I’ve got condoms. It’s been awhile for me, but I got a new box in my bathroom. I just need to go grab them.”

He moves to get up, but you tighten your hold on him.

“I’m on the pill. I, um, got back on it after our first date,” you say almost bashfully. “So if you wanted to go, ah, without it would be ok. I would be fine with it if you didn’t wear one. More than fine, actually.”

There’s something about your endearing self-conscious babbling that helps him get out of his head, “Can I tell you something?”

“Anything, always. You know that,” you tell him, nudging your nose against his.

“I haven’t done this without one before,” he admits.

And it’s clear from the way your eyebrows spring up that this surprises you, “Wait, never?”

“Never,” Bradley confirms. He brings your hand up to his chest so you can feel how fast his heart is beating.

While he’s had a couple serious girlfriends in the past, one didn’t like the way the pill made her feel and the other didn’t like the mess. It was never a big deal to him as long as everyone felt good. He liked that extra layer of protection, he never liked the idea of potentially getting someone pregnant and leaving them to care for his child when his job was so unpredictable.

And with one-night stands, the use of a condom was never even a question.

“So, I get to be your first?” A delighted grin overtakes your face, as you affectionately run you hand through his hair.

“If you want,” he offers softly.

“I want it to be me,” you say with such sincerity it makes his chest ache.

You pull him back down to you and wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him even closer to you. The two of you are a frenzy of wandering hands and teasing tongues and needy noises.

“How do you want me?” he asks, low and velvety.

“I’ve imagined everything,” you whisper, your thumb caressing the long scar from where your hands are cupped around the side of his neck. “But I want you like this, just like this.”

He has always been wrapped around your finger, but with your hand on his cock guiding him to the center of you, he is at your mercy.

You trusted Bradley to be gentle not only with your body, but also with your heart. You were safe in his stupidly big and unfairly perfect hands.

There’s no holding back the sharp inhale as his thick, flared tip enters you for the first time. He’s barely inside of you and the way he is filling you is nothing like you’ve ever experienced before.

The low whine he makes as he slides into you without anything in-between your bodies is the most erotic thing you’ve ever heard. You are impossibly wetter at the knowledge that you are the one to make him feel this good, that it’s your body he’s experiencing this with for the first time.

Your eyes flutter close at the sheer stretch of him as he presses further into you.

Slowly, gently, deliberately.

“No,” he roughly rasps, pausing half-way inside of you, “Look at me.”

His desperate tone sets off more goosebumps over your body. With no small effort on your part, you do as he wants.

He looks just as overwhelmed as you feel. The flush from his cheeks and neck has worked its way down his broad chest, there’s a sheen of sweat collecting in the hollow of his throat and you want to lick him there.

“Want you to keep your eyes on me.”

You fight the urge to squirm as he slowly serves you the rest of his cock. He’s intensely watching your reaction to every ridge, every vein, every thick inch of him as he makes encouraging circles with his thumbs over your hipbones.

If you were to close your eyes again, you know you’d be seeing stars. But how could you when he was looking at you with such wonder.

You are nearly undone by the sensation of being so entirely wanted and cherished and lo—

“Bradley,” you whimper, unguarded under his gaze.

Every emotion is pounding away inside of you, eager for its turn in the spotlight.

“I know, I know.” His voice is rough and wrecked.

You can feel what he really means. We’re right on time.

Your heart stumbles over itself when he tenderly kisses the damp skin of your temple when his hips finally, finally press against yours.

And for a moment you two just hold each other’s eyes as you get used to being connected with each other in the most intimate of ways.

Your mind was taking snapshots of everything, you didn’t want to forget a single moment of this. All these little details of him that belonged to you. The length of his eyelashes. The flush of his cheeks. The state of his pretty wavy hair made messy by your hands. The pinch of his brow. The exact shade of his whiskey brown eyes as he stared into your eyes.

It is almost too intimate the way he is looking at you when he starts moving above you. As he took in your every dewy blink, every hitch of your breath, every little sound you made. As he slowly, purposefully rolled his hips against yours.

That untethered feeling was settling over you again. “Bradley, need you to kiss me.” You feel his hands tighten on your waist. He was inside of you, but you needed him closer. “Please, please.”

His lips are on yours like a flash. “Anything,” he murmurs in between deep, thorough kisses. “Anything you want.” You take his tongue just like you take the rest of him.

You’re on the right side of too full and he is hot and heavy inside of you. It is dizzying being this stretched around him, this surrounded by him. You can feel everything. The orgasm that sneaks up on you is a silvery, shimmery thing that coasts over you like stardust.

“Fuck,” he groans as your pussy lightly flutters around him, slowing down his thrusts to draw it out for you.

You recover quickly, the sensation that swept over you was not nearly as intense as the ones that he gave you with his mouth and fingers, but no less satisfying.

“Of course, you’re good at this too,” you laugh breathily.

He huffs one of his own in response, his mouth pulling crookedly to the side, “I told you we’d be good together.” He props himself up higher with his forearms from where they were lovingly, protectively caged around your head, “You feelin’ good, sweet girl?”

“So good, it’s so good, Bradley.”

You can feel his grin when he makes your back arch from hitting you just right. Grasping onto his thick biceps, your fingers dig into the corded muscle there. All you can do is let the rhythm take the lead as he picks up the pace again.

It’s hard to draw a full breath. Whether from being so filled by him or from the pressure building in your chest you couldn’t say.

He is everywhere, but it still isn’t enough. You don’t know if you want more or you need less. If you need him to go slower or if it’s not fast enough. You’re so overwhelmed, it’s just so overwhelming how good he is making you feel.

“Bradley, I need, I need-” you can’t even finish your sentence before you’re making a noise of frustration.

“Shh, it’s ok. I got you, kid.” He tosses your legs over his shoulders and raises up to his knees. Lifting your hips up as he reaches over to grab a pillow and slides it underneath you.

Next powerful thrust of his hips has you feeling like you are going to vibrate out of your skin.

Bradley has always been a big fan of mutually assured orgasms, but he had no idea sex could be this good. He has never felt so in sync or connected like this with anyone else ever.

And the way you feel around him with nothing separating his body from yours was indescribable. Only you had the ability make him feel this good.

He wanted your heartbeat to syncopate to the syllables of his name like his did with yours.

“Fuck, fuck. That feels so good,” you stutter out. The new change of angle has you even tighter for him as the sounds of your bodies coming together fill the room. “B-bradley.” a thrust “Your pillow.” a grind “The mess.”

“Fuck the pillow, I’ll get a new one,” he grunts. He clearly isn’t doing his job if you’re concerned about something as inconsequential as some feathers surrounded by cotton.

And then his loses himself in your whimpers and whines and the feel of your perfect-for-him body. In the silky warmth of you. Of his hands on your waist, on your hips, on your ass.

He has to remind himself this is the first time of many. He’s been dying to have you in every way possible for weeks. He wants to know if you sound the same as you do right now beneath him or if your sweet noises changed whether you were above him or on your hands and knees in front of him.

He couldn’t wait to find out.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praises. You clench around him and his hips nearly falter in the slow, steady rhythm he has set, “Mm, of course you like a compliment.”

Bradley leans down to kiss you and you cry out at the change of position. Good girl. He teases his mustache down your neck, licking along the straining tendon of your neck. Pretty girl. And then he has he mouth on your breast again. Sweet girl.

The position is perfect for him to grind against your clit. The sounds of your soft sighs, of your breathy moans, and your shaky exhales as he hits that spot inside of you just right has him fighting the urge to chase his own release. And he can’t hold back his own sounds of satisfaction when your hot mouth trails along his collarbone, your tongue laving over that scar on his shoulder.

“I can feel you’re holding back,” you urge. “More, give me more.” One of your hands goes to his ass encouraging him to go faster.

“I’m trying to be romantic here,” he only partly teases, as he rolls his hips in that way he now knows makes you gasp.

“You are, you are,” you promise as you pet the side of his face. “But Bradley, I need you to romantically fuck me harder.”

Only you could make him laugh and make his cock stiffer all at the same time.

He’s never been one to deny you. He sits up on his knees again and flings one of your legs over the crook of his elbow, opening you up and giving him more room to give you just what you want.

“Look at you, I can’t believe you’re mine,” he groans. He can’t tear his eyes away from the way your tits bounce as he gives it to you harder, faster, deeper. “Touch yourself for me.” The only thing he can think about was getting you over the edge, so that he could follow you.

He nearly comes at the pretty sight of your fingers making rapid circles on your clit. His hips are rocking into yours roughly, and the way you are whimpering his name is ratcheting his need for you even higher.

Your mouth feels too far away, he wants to taste his name on your lips. He drops back down caging you in his arms. The two of you groan together, he’s much deeper this way. Your hands are fisted in his hair, pulling tightly at his curls as you sweep your tongue against his.

There’s no way he’s going to last with you gripping him like this. He can already feel the tension building in his spine. He knocks your hand out of the way as he takes over the ministrations on your clit, rubbing you there with tight circles.

“Bradley,” you gasp and writhe desperately against him. The way you chant his name sounds so breathy and perfect in his ear as he speeds up the motion of his fingers needing you to come undone.

And then he feels as you spasm and arch and come apart for him with his name on your lips.

bradleybradleybradley

The blood is buzzing in his veins and his breathing has gone entirely ragged as he continues to move in you until you go soft in his arms with a full-bodied sigh.

And then he gives into the desperate way his body needs yours as he chases his own climax.

He presses his face into the curve of your neck, mouthing at whatever skin he can reach as he comes. Nothing has ever felt so good to him as it does emptying himself inside of you, as he thrusts deeper into you as your body convulses around his.

It’s an earth-shattering orgasm that takes and takes and takes.

You don’t know how long you and Bradley lay there tangled up in each other, all heated skin and rapid heartbeats. It’s the most you can do to run your hand through his damp hair from where his head is still tucked against your neck and up and down his muscular back.

He’s long since pulled out of you and you can feel him dripping out of you. But if Bradley isn’t worried about the mess, then neither are you.

You’re still getting use to the weight of him. Still getting use to the shape of your bodies pressed against each other in this way. But it’s better than you could have ever hoped for.

He’s better than you could have hoped for. In every way that mattered.

“So, same time, same place tomorrow?” you ask finding your voice first. You can feel his chuckle as he kisses your neck once, then twice before he pulls away to look at you.

His brown eyes are rimmed with hazel and crinkled around the edges. All the affection and happiness and familiarity evident on his flushed face.

And then he smiles at you. And you know you’re wearing a matching one.

And then you giggle. And he lets out a laugh as he reaches up to softly brush the sweaty strands of hair away from your face.

“You know what’s not fair?” He lets out a hmm of acknowledgement for you to continue as his thumb traces your cheekbone. “You’ve got all these nicknames for me, but I don’t have one for you. Should we try some on for size?” you croon against his ear. Feeling very pleased with yourself when the heavy hand resting on your hip tenses in response.

You kiss along his jaw. Honey. Over his cheek. Baby. On the corner of his perfect mouth. Sweetheart.

“Bradley,” he murmurs looking at you softly.

“Bradley?” You repeat it back to him. Not questioning, but there’s a curiosity there. You love the way he leans in into your touch as you comb your fingers through his waves.

He nods and you’re hit with a wave of affection for this man in your arms. Your Bradley.

“Ok, Bradley,” you say indulgently as you drop a lingering kiss to his lips. “I can work with that.”

And then you’re whispering his name and alternating kisses to his skin, his stomach tensing and flexing as you work your way down his body.

Not one to break his promises to you, he keeps to his word and lets you whatever you want.

After you’ve gotten your way and after he’s gotten his again, you’re wrapped up in his strong arms tangled in his sheets. You’ve never been more satisfied in your life than you are with him here and now, warm and cared for.

You’re too contented in the blissful after you had been so needlessly worried about to fight sleep as it comes to claim you.

Will you two stay intertwined like this all night? Or will he chase you across the bed like he has been chasing you in your dreams?

Snuggling in closer to Bradley, you think about how excited you are to wake up next to him in the morning. Knowing him, he will probably be up before you, hopefully waiting with a steaming cup of coffee for you.

With his soft breaths in your ear, you let yourself drift off to the sweet potential and possibilities of tomorrow.

There’s so much to look forward to.

More of Bradley, more with Bradley.

The two of you are perfectly and exactly on time.

This was written as the part of a series for characters in the “Like I Can” Universe. If you missed Part 1, you can read it here!

They’re right on time, and boy, was it worth the wait!

If you’re curious about what Bradley’s room looks like, you can check it out here! (I’ve updated it to include some headcanons)

I wrote this little series as a birthday gift to my favorite Taurus Moon twin @gretagerwigsmuse! It only took a couple months, Jordan, but its the gift that keeps on giving!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes

#bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster x female reader

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mayaree-darling · 5 months

Note

Hi i've been binging some of your fics recently and im in love! I saw that you had requests open so I was wondering if you could do scaramouche x fem reader but where reader dresses in jojifuku or other known as cutecore and scaramouche dresses in a baggy 'cool' way and reader gets made fun of for dressing differently?

of scary dog privileges & matcha lattes // scaramouche (modern au)

pairing: Scaramouche x Cutecore!Reader

synopsis: look, you may be a cute ball of pastels that can test scaramouche's patience, but you're HIS cute pastel lover. but if anyone messes with you, it's okay - his hands were made to be thrown.

from aree: for @amia-69: thanks for requesting and i hope this was satisfactory. i had too much fun with this so i hope you don't mind if it's a tad long with more scenes than you requested. i also made this a bit more feel-good by being a little silly but it’s still mostly serious, i hope you don't mind!

content: slight stalking and bullying scenario (be warned if triggering); very annoyed Scara means swearing; i'm in silly writer mode rn so this is a mix of crack and serious writing; slightly unhinged reader but hey so is scaramouche; praying this ain't OOC; fully accepted this is cringe; fem reader

fic length: 4k~ (unedited)

Scaramouche isn't dumb. He can tell anyone who sees him is asking it in their head.

How the fuck did you two end up together?

There was nothing soft looking about him besides the hair he inherited from his mother. He was his mother but with sharper lines, edges, and words. His eyes were almost a permanent glare if he didn't look bored or annoyed at everyone and everything. He always seemed to wear dark clothing, accompanied by the right amount of chains or belts here and there to complete the look, but they suited him nicely. If anything, he wore them best than most. If he wore anything less than clothes that didn't hang off his body he looked uncomfortable. Didn't mean he didn't hear enough older people talking about his choice of clothes though.

So when he first stood next to you on the fruits and vegetables aisle at the grocery store, he realized how you two stood at different ends of the fashion spectrum. He was there with his mother for their weekly food restock and ended up getting left behind when he went to check something on his phone (typical. How may times had this happened?) When he blinked, gone was his mom, and there beside him stood you, looking at a bunch of melons.

"This shit's overpriced, the hell." you grumble it under your breath, but Scaramouche heard it loud and clear. The snort he lets out isn't unnoticed by you and you turn to him, eyebrows raised. You look at him up and down before your eyes land back to his, and he frowns.

Goddamn it, here we go. He's heard his mom talk his ear off about the clothes this morning and he wasn't gonna hear it from anyone else. He opens his mouth, ready to cuss you to next Tuesday, but you beat him to it.

"I like the eyeliner," Scaramouche stares at you incredulously, and almost as a final nail into the coffin that he heard you right, you nod in approval. You tilt your head to the side. "I gotta say though. I think eyeshadow would look a lot better. Maybe... red? Just a bit at the corners. It would look a lot nice with your eye color and would make them pop considering you wear a lot of dark shades."

Scaramouche gapes at you. He's used to getting cussed out or getting the occasional talking to about his choices in life, but fashion advice was the last thing he expected to get from some stranger in the fruits aisle.

"Thanks..." he eventually lets out. He finally takes a moment to look you up and down and wonders how the hell did he not notice you sooner when you stood out from everything like a sore thumb.

Scaramouche didn't know there were so many shades of pink in the world. Or maybe he never noticed since he never wore clothes like that, and if he was honest, he spent time with people who didn't wear that color at all. Seeing it now was like a jumpscare, just a lot softer considering it's not like you posed any actual threat but slightly still as surprising considering people randomly approaching him first was so rare. If you weren't wearing a shade of pink, you were wearing some pastel shade of another color. Pastel blue, pastel purple, white lace here and there. The skirt you wore was so frilly you looked like you were walking around with a pink cloud. You looked... soft. That was the best summary Scaramouche could put together in the amount of time he gave you a once over.

You looked like everything he was not.

"I like... the frills," he inwardly cringed the moment he said it, but he ended up just frowning at you. It was your damn fault for putting him in this position in the first place so why the hell was he the one suffering. It's not his fault he wasn't good at giving other people compliments.

You laugh, and Scaramouche wasn't sure whether he should be glad you didn't take it to heart or be offended that he actually tried his best to give you a compliment only to be shot down. "It's okay. You don't have to force yourself."

Scaramouche just frowned deeper. Now it feels like you're saying he can't give out a compliment at all. He looks you up and down again and just says what comes to his head on the spot. "You look like the cotton candy sold at the fair across the street. Actually, I think you're a lot more pink than that stuff, but still lighter? Can't tell accurately with how many shades you got going on."

He must've said something good enough for you because you're grinning at him the next second. "That's one of the nicer ones people have said to me."

Scaramouche looks at you in disbelief. "How is that even remotely nice?"

"Well, for one, I know you mean that sincerely. Second, I'll have you know I worked hard to get pretty vibrant pinks that weren't too hard on the eyes, so thanks for confirming that!"

"You made that?" You nod, and Scaramouche nods back slowly in approval, actually impressed. "Not bad."

Your eyes land on his watch and you jolt, looking at the time on your phone. You pick a random melon even when he sees you scowl at the price tag and put it into your basket. Nodding once more to him, you turn around and leave. But as he watches you round the corner, you're running back to his side once more before he can even turn away. The sudden look of alarm on your face, so different from the grin and laughter you had on earlier, immediately has him on edge.

"Please help me," you whisper, but there was no one else in the aisle besides a mother and her baby at the far end. He frowns and looks to the side.

"Do I look like I help people." it came out harsher than he intended, but didn't he give you more than he was already willing to give any other stranger? Now you were just taking advantage of him.

"I need a scary dog right now," you said it so casually and seriously he wasn't sure he heard you right. But your voice echoed correctly in his head and he actually takes a step away from you, face incredulous.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" he scoffs, not sure if he was supposed to be offended or it was a compliment from you in some weird way. "The pet shop is right next door. Go get a dog there."

"Please. You know what I mean." you look at him pleadingly and he looks away. No, no, he was not gonna break first. This wasn't his business to deal with. He's done enough for people for the day. Nope.

"Again, go look for that somewhere else. Don't you have a boyfriend to help with this kinda thing?"

You roll your eyes and Scaramouche has half a mind to smack you silly. "If I did, you think I'd be going up to strangers for help?"

"So this is a regular thing, huh?" he takes a step back and you take a step towards him.

"Of course not, you expect this kinda thing to happen sometimes. But I don't want to hide away just ‘cause some people couldn't stay away and mind their own damn business," you shuffle from one foot to another. You cast a hesitant look behind you. His eyes follow.

"What are you even-" he stops. In the corner where he last saw you turn, a hooded man hovered over the bread aisle. For a shelf that only had five pieces of loaves left he was taking his time picking, so that only meant one thing. Scaramouche watched as the man glanced over once in your direction before seemingly turning back to the bread with fake focus.

"I thought I was imagining it. But he’s giving me the evil eyes," your voice is a whisper again.

That's unpleasant. Scaramouche straightened his posture and looked at you directly. If it's a scary dog you needed then so be it.

"What are you waiting for, then?" his voice was loud, not enough to be too distracting, but enough to carry over to the asshole who decided to be a creep for the day. Scaramouche kept his eyes on you. "You need anything else? I got the car running. Let's go if you're ready."

You look up at him like he was a fucking hero and Scaramouche all but does his best to not look as pompous as he felt. He sees the guy step back a little from his view, most likely thinking twice about following you when you're suddenly with company. He all but stares the fucker down until he leaves his line of sight.

Scaramouche breathes a short sigh of relief and he sees you do the same. He wanted to leave it at that, but if the guy was planning to follow you around the mall, he'd probably stick around a bit more. So fucking annoying. Not you, though. Although you were a bit annoying, you've probably been through more today than he had. He takes your wrist lightly.

"Where to next? I have family waiting outside."

You smile, relaxed and familiar. He holds your wrist, but you guide him around the store for a few other things before heading to the counter. When you leave the shop, plastic bags in hand, he motions for you to head to the parking lot and you follow albeit hesitantly, only visibly relaxing when you see a woman standing by a car who looks eerily similar to your rescuer.

"Oh? You have a friend." Scaramouche bites back the retort that almost slips past his lips. What did she mean by that? Of course he had friends. He'd never introduce them to her and her to them but he preferred keeping those two sides of his life away from each other.

"She had a bit of a problem and needed some help," she looks at you once and back to him. She gives him a knowing look but Scaramouche could swear on his grave that what she was thinking was vastly different from what was really going on.

"I see. Will your friend be joining us for dinner?" she looks at you with a soft smile and you return it. Scaramouche has half a mind to facepalm himself, he thanks what shred of patience he has left that he doesn't because you give him a glance.

"Thank you for the offer, but I should really be heading home," you turn to him fully and take the plastic bags from him. "Thanks for... helping me."

He opens his mouth but before he can say anything, you give him a knowing nod before quickly walking away. He watches you walk a few paces before he hears his mom clear her throat. He looks to her, already scowling.

"Don't tell me you're just gonna let her go like that?"

"What do you want me to do?"

Ei sighs. "At least make sure she gets a ride? If you walked her all the way over here, I can guess you wanted to give her a ride home. But that's out of the question now."

"Why are you so invested in this anyway? I just met her today."

"Oh, really? I thought you already knew each other." Ei hums as she rummages her purse for the keys. "You look like a pair. Not quite sure what kind, but definitely a pair of something. I think she’s rather cute."

He curses silently before jogging to catch up to you. He finds you standing by the bus stop. When you turn to him, you smile.

"Thanks for helping me again."

"You know I was planning on dropping you off at your place, right? Thought that was kinda clear with what I said at the grocery."

"Nah. I'd bothered you enough. Don't wanna bother your sister either." you grin at him, shuffling from foot to foot again, now with a pep in your step.

"First off, that was my mom, not my sister." you repeat the word 'mom' silently before looking at him with barely suppressed admiration, and Scaramouche barely holds himself back from groaning. "Second, it's fine. You're not scared that guy's gonna follow you home?"

"I'll be in a bus full of people. If he tries anything I'll scream my head off." you laugh. Scaramouche can hear a shred of doubt in your voice, but he doesn't say anything else. There's a pause of silence before you look at him from the corner of your eye and hum. "Y'know. I don't know how to properly thank you."

He waves you off. "Forget about it."

"How about I treat you?" you turn to him fully, like he just didn't brush you off. "I know a cafe by the train station that makes really good matcha lattes."

"What makes you think I even like matcha?" he sighs, but he thinks about it for a second. And then another second. Scaramouche blinks before he turns to you with a deadpan face. "You're just trying to take advantage of my scary dog privilege or whatever you call it."

"Maybe? Who knows?"you grin mischievously. "I'm serious about treating you to a meal, though. I owe you one. If you want you can just take the meal and forget about ever seeing me again."

Scaramouche sighs. Surely, it wouldn't hurt...?

"Alright then. When's our date?" You blink at him in surprise before laughing.

When people ask him how you two got together, he says you treated him to matcha for saving your life and you just hit it off. When they ask you to confirm, you excitedly show a picture of the two of you in the cafe of your first date. Should anyone try to mention the foam of milk from the matcha latte gathered around the top of his lips or the cat ears you had graciously edited onto the top of his head, Scaramouche is quick to silence them with a murderous look, almost the very same one he has on in the picture.

Some might think why doesn’t he just ask you to stop showing the photo to people? It’s enough for you to confirm that you got together over drinks, end of story. But as he watches and listens to you recount how you met again, the smile on your lips and the laughter that slips past and the grin as you show all the pictures - he can’t imagine saying no.

Why would he make you stop when you’re so happy?

That’s what he thinks now, as he sees the frown on your face.

He thought people already understood. He let you tell the story over and over even though it got on his nerves time and time again because it made you happy, yes, but also so people saw who they were messing with if they ever even thought of messing with you. This city was a small one - if people didn’t know him from his mother, they surely have heard of him and his friends. This city was the kind where word travelled fast if you were even in any social circle. If not for that, they would have surely seen him walking around with you with all the places you wanted to see.

He underestimated how dumb people could be.

Scaramouche rolled his eyes before frowning. He pocketed his phone and all but jogged to the park. From a distance, he could see two guys in front of the bench he was sure was where you were supposed to meet. It was the bench he and you stopped at to exchange numbers, so it became a place that meant a lot to you. When he was close, the group of guys looked at his direction, snickering, before heading to the next bench over. Finally, he has a perfect view of you, your head down, holding on to your drink and phone like a lifeline. His drink almost lay forgotten beside you.

He quickly grabbed the drink from your side and sat beside you. From the corner of his eye, he can see the group of guys stealing glances at the both of you, not even trying to hide their laughter and sneers. He’s gripping his drink almost as hard as you were.

“You’re here,” you smile at him, but as quickly as it’s on your face it drops back to a wobbly frown and you look away. “Sorry if I made you hurry, I-”

“What happened? Did they do anything to you?” his voice comes out in a rush but it’s soft, as comforting as he can muster with the situation at hand. He can feel his blood boiling, his senses on high alert.

“No, no, they were just being mean and annoying and I-” you shakily pocket your phone and hold on to his hand. He can feel you shaking and he grit his teeth.

“What did they do? What the fuck did they say?” he was gripping onto the cup so tight he would’ve been surprised that it hadn’t broken yet if he wasn’t so focused on you.

“Nothing important.” he squeezes your hand, not enough to hurt, but to make sure you know that he’s here now. You didn’t need to hide anything from him. You just need to tell him. You look up at him and purse your lips. “They just said-”

He hears laughter and immediately whips his head towards the two guys, feeling absolutely feral. The closest one sitting on the edge of the bench flinches for a second, before he meets his glare with a sneer.

“I was wondering what kind of parents would leave their little princess walking around alone like that,” the guy smirks and Scaramouche can feel you flinch under his touch. “But another kid just showed up to pick them up. Where are your parents, kiddies?”

The two guys laugh and Scaramouche can feel his teeth crack with how hard he was biting down. He stands up but you hold on to his hand.

“Just let it go. Let’s just get out of here.” you mumble to him, but the guys heard perfectly.

“Let’s just get out of here~” the other guy copies your voice, all high pitched and mocking and everything that Scaramouche knew you were very much not. “She dresses like a little princess and sounds like one. Aren’t you too old for that?”

They howl with laughter and slowly, Scaramouche feels you let go of him. He looks to you, concerned, but you meet his eyes, your face blank but he knows that look.

Go for it.

With quick strides he’s right beside their bench. They stop for a moment to look at him.

He looks at the matcha latte in his hand and sighs.

What a waste of a drink. You got it for him, too.

“What are you- ARGH!” Scaramouche shakes the cup empty of all it’s content, making sure that each of the guys’ heads had at least a bit of the matcha drink. But Scaramouche was sure he got them both - it was a large drink, after all.

“Pick on someone your own size, you lil’-” the man closest to him goes to stand, but just as he does, Scaramouche raises his own leg and drives a kick right on his knees.

*CRACK*

The man screams in pain, forced to his knees and tending to his newly acquired wound. The other guy stands to try and help, but his form quickly falters as Scaramouche takes one step towards him, eyes blazing. The man doesn’t move, too frightened, as Scaramouche leans down to the man on the ground.

“There you go. Now we’re the same height.”

Scaramouche feels a pull on the back of his shirt and he’s ready to throw his arm back to punch when he sees you. He lets you pull him and you make a break for it as he hears the man crying in pain behind him.

Trees turn to buildings around you both as you leave the park and head to the city center, stopping only when you’re sure the coast is clear. You both take in large breaths of air after running for so long, but even the silence does nothing to make him realize the gravity of what just happened. That’s not the case for you, though.

“Oh, God, I didn’t think you’d do that. The drink, yeah, but...” you say between breaths. You take a shaky laugh and rub the back of your neck. “Was the kick really necessary, though?”

Was that necessary? Scaramouche knew the answer for himself. He walks closer to you.

Why would he let anyone destroy whatever you two had going on? You came as a pair.

"Scara, what are you-" he stops in his tracks and looks you in the eyes. There's a pause before he lifts his hand and flicks your forehead.

"Talk smack, get whacked."

"I didn't even say anything! And why are you hitting me?!"

There’s a pause as he runs his teeth over his lower lip.

“Hey… you.”

“Wow, I thought by now you knew my name,” you sneer at him. “You telling me you still don’t know it?”

He inhales before he says your name softly. You gape at him, suddenly aware of how serious he’s gotten. “You’re happy with… yourself, right…?”

“Of course I am. That’s not even worth asking about,” there’s a doubtful look on your face, but not because of your answer. Your apprehension stems from where this conversation was going.

“Keep being happy, then.” Scaramouche rubs the knuckles of your hand with his thumb before pressing a kiss to your palm. He smirks at you. “If anyone else says otherwise, a drink over their head and broken kneecaps are the least of their concerns.”

“Now, come on,” he doesn’t let go of your hand and you make no mention of it. “We still gotta stop by Nahida’s, right?”

＝＝✿＝＝｜✧••❀••✧｜＝＝✿＝＝

❀BONUS❀

“Your mom’s gonna kill us when she finds out what you did.”

“Nah. She’d be fine with it.” Scaramouche scoffs.

“Find out what?” Ei appears by the kitchen doorway and looks at you both expectantly. You turn to Scaramouche, eyes wide with fear, but he doesn’t flinch or even stop chopping the melon.

“I poured a drink over some guy who said Matcha was acting too much like a kid,” Scaramouche answers easily, passing you a melon slice. “Also might have broken their knee, but we didn’t get to see.”

“I’m really sorry, Ms. Ei-”

“That’s it?” Ei leans on the kitchen counter and to your surprise, looks at Scaramouche with disappointment. “You should’ve broken a bone or two more.”

You blink as they continue talking about how best to have handled the situation; all their solutions involved hurting someone.

Well, you guess Scaramouche must have had to got it from someone in the family.

✨ Masterlist ✨

Taglist: 💛@wonpielle 💜@shikanosn

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact modern au #scaramouche modern au #genshin impact reader insert #scaramouche x reader fluff #scaramouche fluff #genshin impact x reader fluff

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fcthots · 5 months

Note

thinking about fake dating jason and falling in love.

it happens slowly and quietly, so slow you don’t even notice it.

and then you turn around and you’re head over heels for him, no idea how it happened.

-🍓

Anon, if i ever gain the ability to write full fics, this is the first thing i'm writing.

might turn this into an au and let y'all request scenes (tattooartist!jason style)

It started off simple. He needed a date to the gala. the press was brutal and he was a Wayne. He didn't want to put anyone in that sort of spotlight. He had a dark past and didn't want anyone to get dragged into it. You were bored, needed a date to a wedding, and you cared about your friend. Also, it helped that he was willing to pay you because he felt bad about the whole press thing. It was nothing more than an arrangement between friends, a way for you to help him out. He's always been there for you, no matter what. You didn't think twice about returning the favor.

He was sweet in public. Held your hand, kissed your cheek, always asked if you were up for a kiss when he thought it was necessary. His hand was always warm and comforting on your waist. It grounded. you, kept you in the moment with him. You loved hanging out with him. The arrangement had let allowed you to hand out with him all the time, anywhere and everywhere. There were some comments made about you in the press, but the negative ones didn't bother you (how could they think you were the bad influence, secret identity or not, he was the one with murders under his belt!) and there were some nice things. You ha your past delved into, which wasn't exactly fun, but Jason had warned you it would happen and oracle made sure everything traceable wasn't bad. Overall, it was fun. You got to hang out with your best friend 24/7 and you got some new instagram followers and fun edits made of you along the way.

When it did inevitably get a little rough, Jason was there for you, like always. He took care of all the truly nasty things the press had to say about you. He always respected your boundaries, and he took you on vacation when it all got too much, even if he had to leave early for a Gotham emergency.

Things had to be believable, of course, so there needed to be couple's pictures on your social media. He needed to lay down with you. He needed to press his body up against yours. he needed to wrap his arms around you. He needed to draw you so close to him that there wasn't any given one inch of space in between you. He needed to press his face to your chest and close his eyes.

Right?

He just needed the picture to look believable. That was all.

So why did he stay cuddled into you? Why did he fall asleep there like he was made to fit? Like it was the only place he's ever wanted to be?

And why did it make you want.

After that, you spent all of your time wanting. Wanting more. The arrangement was perfect. It gave you everything it was supposed to. So why did you want more? Why did you wish Jason would stop apologizing when he said he had to kiss you? Why did your heart sink when his hands left yours after you were away from prying eyes? When did the edits people made of you go from fun to painful, a reminder of the way you wished he really looked at you? Why did you wish he wasn't faking it.

And, fuck that hurt, because he was just faking it all, right? He only looked at you like you were his world when someone else was looking. He didn't want you.

Not like you wanted him.

"Why do you look like that?" His voice shakes you out of your thoughts. Your eyes drift to him where he's sitting on the couch, his phone long forgotten timing out and turning off in his hand.

"What?" Your eyebrows had just lightly drawn together, your voice duller than usual.

"You look sad. What's on your mind?" His face looks a little worried. His eyes searched yours. You hope he can't see the truth lying beneath them.

What were you supposed to tell him? That this wasn't just a game to you anymore? That you can't stomach him holding your hand not because he means it? That you're taking advantage of him? That when he kisses you, you pretend it's real?

You don't meet his eyes. "I can't do this anymore."

#fake dating au #fakeboyfriend!jason #fake boyfriend!jason #saph’s love letters #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #saph’s thots #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood imagine #red hood x you #jason todd angst #jason todd x reader angst #red hood x reader angst #red hood angst #angst #🍓 anon

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hellishjoel · 5 months

Text

god is a woman, but so is the devil

1.2k / pairing: sub brat tamer!joel miller x f!reader

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summary: joel lets you have control of him for the night - you milk him for all that he's worth.

warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), no outbreak, porn without plot, brat tamer!joel, sub!joel, dom!reader, somewhat established relationship (whatever that relationship may be ((situationship, relationship, etc.)), toxic!couple, swearing, dirty talk, pet names, restraints, daddy kink, f!masturbation, oral (m & f receiving), degradation, a little praise kink, choking on dick, marking kink, 69, m!overstimulation A/N: this was a nice little challenge to help me make my smut more concise! shoutout to @undercoverpena for brainstorming this awesome idea with me! and thank you to @thetriumphantpanda for aiding me in attempting to shorten my smut lol. dividers by the astounding @saradika-graphics

“There he goes,” you coo with a belittling tone, “look at all this fucking cum.”

Your eyes fixate on the cream-colored mess all over your hand and Joel’s cock, watching out of your peripheral the way Joel’s chest rises and falls at a quickened rate. His skin is rosy with warmth, and body slick with his own sweat.

You’ve been milking him, orgasm after orgasm, with very little break in between. He was putty between your hands, while his own hands were tied up with his own belt at the bed frame.

“Okay,” he pants, head of dark curls matted with sweat digging into the pillows, “S’enough. M’done.”

You playfully snicker and shake your head, hand still stroking up and down his sticky cock as he goes limp in your palm.

“I think you forget who’s in charge here. Certainly not the one with his hands tied up in a belt.”

Joel grunts and bares his teeth, face pinched in a mess of agony and euphoria. He’s not sure how many times he’s been pushed to the finish, spilling unexpectedly all over himself in orgasms that convulse his entire body. The more he comes, the more he disintegrates.

Your devilish little giggle breaks him out of his daydream, his cock sensitive to your touch. He grunts and tugs against his restraints, the restraints he had foolishly agreed to. Handing over power to you was his first mistake, you were too self-absorbed to handle it.

Now, he’s laid back in the middle of the bed, a sweating, naked mess, while his girl literally sucks the life out of him.

He can’t help but whimper as you kitten lick around his reddened tip. Joel is forced to clench his eyes closed and grit his jaw as he tries to breathe through the overstimulation.

“Right, you had your fun, devil woman,” his southern accent is deep and filthy, written over with lust and making his words run raspy. “Now lemme go.”

He watches as you fake ponder, pursing your lips and looking up in thought. He takes in a sharp breath when you slowly begin to shake your head.

Joel watches in agony as you lean down and nip at the inside of his thighs, the muscles underneath your lips twitching with excitement. Your mouth moves up to the planes of his abdomen, watching with heavy eyes as you lick a slow stripe up his torso and taste his sweat.

“But I like telling you what to do.” You muse playfully, innocence lining your voice.

His eyes flutter, heart rate picking up as you dig your nails into the thick muscle of his thighs and drag downwards, Joel grunting the entire time to breathe through the pain.

The pistons in his brain were flying a million miles a minute. He couldn’t think, could barely speak, he had come more times today than he had all month, and it was driving him mad how you were using him like a little plaything. That was his job.

He finally decides to play nice, to give into the shifted power dynamic. He can’t take much more of this. His eyes soften and his jaw goes slack, a weak whimper passing through his lips as you suckle a hickey right next to his spent balls.

“Please, baby,” he gulps, slowly shaking his head and trying to look down at you. “Ain’t got nothin’ left.”

Now that sets you alight.

“What’s that you always say to me, Joel? You can give me one more, baby.” Your voice is seductive and sweet like honey, a Venus fly trap waiting to snap up any man in your wake.

He shakily breathes out a groveling whimper, knowing he can’t give you one more, he simply can’t. And that’s what he told you, several more times. But you weren’t satisfied with that weak excuse.

“Maybe you just need a little... motivation.” You coo, stripping yourself of your bra and panties as his eyes can’t help but lust over your pretty body he knows all too well.

Joel chews at his raw lower lip, bruised by his own teeth as you slowly spread your legs for him. He stares at your glorious cunt, sopping wet and calling his name. It’s tragic, the quiet sob that breaks from his throat as he gawks longingly. If you’d just let him have a taste…

He said he couldn’t, and he can’t. He was spent. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down in his throat as your hand slowly sinks down to your pretty pussy, fingers running up and down your slick as you let out a little gasp of pleasure.

Joel wriggles in his restraints again, desperate to touch and please you. He can only watch as your head lulls from side to side as you circle your clit and bury two fingers into your entrance until you’re knuckle deep, causing you to cry out his name.

“You want this pretty pussy, Daddy? Don’t make me ride you, you wouldn’t last a minute,” he’d never imagined you daring to ride him would be such a threat, but it was. You were right, he wouldn’t last, and he’d finish embarrassingly early. Like a damn teenager.

Then, the worst happens. He whimpers as his cock begins to swell all over again, fattening up as he goes semi-hard against his stomach.

You spot it almost immediately, a cocky grin on your lips as you crawl up the bed towards him. He whimpers and whines, clenching his eyes closed.

The man was afraid to let go. You decided to stop torturing him, wanting to reward him for being such a good submissive tonight.

“Wanna come on your face like you’ve been doing to me all night,” you hum as you work your way up the bed and straddle your cunt over his face, feeling the glide of his aquiline nose against your core and his hot breath fanning across your center. It gave you the chills.

You lay your head by his thigh and start pumping your hand around his massive dick, hearing him messily moan against your pussy as he eats you up like a starving man. Your sweet juices land on his tongue and lips, burying his tongue inside your walls before moving back to suckle against your throbbing clit.

You force your cries to be silent as you wrap your lips around him. The sensation of your hot mouth instantly makes him curse against you, whimpering loudly as he forces his face more into your pussy to hide his pathetic whines.

He’s so needy, he’s so close, and you taking him all the way down your throat, gagging around his thick cock wasn’t going to make him last much longer.

You hollow your cheeks and flatten your tongue, feeling his tip hit the back of your throat more times than you can count. He’s pulsing inside of your mouth. One, two, maybe three more bobs of your head, and he’s bucking his hips into your sloppy mouth, spit slathering down his dick and puddling at his balls.

His tongue flicks devilishly fast against your clit, causing you to moan around his shaft as he spills hot load after hot load down your throat. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you greedily take it all, your own finish landing on Joel’s tongue not even seconds later.

Your jaw is aching, throat swollen once you finally pull your mouth from him.

“Such a good fucking man finishing for me, good job, Daddy,” you gulp after swallowing his musky come.

The room smells of sex and is filled with both of your exhausted pants. Joel’s wrists are rubbed raw from the leather, and he comes so hard that he sees stars behind his eyes while his girl’s juices lay tainted on his tastebuds.

He’s not so sure if you’re a God or the Devil, but he’s sure he wouldn’t have it any other way.

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#joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller one shot #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou #tlou fic #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #hellishjoel #joel miller x reader #joel tlou #brat tamer!joel

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leviathans-watching · 1 year

Note

I have an request for you- is it alright if you do an fanfic where the brothers, dateables, and even the new characters get turned into toddlers? And now (mc) had to care of them? But Luke turns into a baby. A really fluffy, motherly thing? Idrk it's my first time requesting from you- it's alright if you don't want to do it though! :D -chickechee 🐥

when they turn into toddlers

includes: barbatos & gn!reader, & everyone else (no pronouns mentioned)

rated g | wc: .5k | m.list

a/n: oml this was so cute i hope you enjoy!! i have more baby!luke here as well. my inbox is open to chat, req, or leave feedback so come say hi <33

reblogs are greatly appreciated

“oh my god!” you look around the room in horror. “what the hell happened?”

barbatos looks like he hasn't slept in a week. it’s only been a few hours since the initial incident. “what always does,” he answers tiredly, shifting toddler–yes, toddler!–diavolo to his other hip. “someone touched some cursed relic they weren’t supposed to and the effect was disastrous.”

“that’s one word for it,” you murmur. everyone, except for you and barbatos, had regressed into children. infants, even. barbatos had made quick use of the castle’s nursery, left over from one of the previous rulers, and turned it into something daycare-esque, thankfully providing a safe space for them all to be that would keep them out of harm's way, as well as trouble.

as you watch, mammon rises onto shaky legs, making his way over to levi, who’s playing with blocks. “oh please tell me he’s not going to do what i think he’s going to do,” you moan.

“he’s going to do exactly what you think he’s going to do,” barbatos replies, and sure enough, in one deliberate movement, mammon knocks over all of levi’s hard work. immediately, levi begins to scream, startling mammon, who falls back onto the padded ground and begins to cry himself.

“oh, shush.” moving more on instinct, you scoop levi up, patting his back gently. “you’ll be alright, honey.”

he quiets, staring at your face. you wonder if he recognizes you. mammon is still crying, so you set levi back down and move on to comforting him.

“that wasn’t very nice, now, was it?” you ask gently. “let’s not knock over other’s towers, okay?”

he sniffles, rubbing at his eyes with tiny fat baby hands, and it’s just the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. when you go to set him down, he holds tight, and you realize that apparently, he was just as clingy as a toddler as he is now. wonderful.

shifting him to one side, you take stock of everyone else, making sure there are no immediate concerns. simeon, rapheal, and lucifer are sitting together, coloring (and jesus christ you’re going to need to pull out your camera right now), diavolo is still in barbatos’ capable grasp, beel and belphie are napping quietly in a pile of blankets, solomon is telling something to asmo and satan in incomprehensible toddler speech, and mephisto and thirteen are busy playing on their own. you spy a crib in the corner, which must hold luke, who barbatos had said had regressed into an infant rather than a toddler.

“you’re good with children,” barbatos observes, and you sigh.

“i always did like them. i spent my teenage years as a babysitter and camp counselor so i have some experience under my belt,” you explain. “so are you, by the way.” you’ve long stopped being surprised by the fact that barbatos is skilled at literally everything.

“yes, well, it helps that they’re a bit better behaved like this than when they are normally,” he says, and you can’t help but laugh. against your shoulder, mammon echoes your laugh, then sticks his fingers in his mouth. eh, he’s got a demon’s immune system, he’ll be fine.

“how much longer are they going to stay like this?” you ask, and barbatos shrugs.

“probably two or three more hours,” he says.

“just enough time to have to give them lunch while they’re like this,” you say with a slow-dawning horror. “which should be super easy and not difficult or tiring at all.”

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your own

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geeks-universe · 22 days

Text

The Fallen pt. 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Cooper Howard x F!Angel!Reader

A/N: Some light spice, no full on smut yet. This is in fact a Lucifer (TV) crossover. The beginning italics is a flashback.

Cooper Howard had perfected his aim in the many, many years of life spent in the hellish landscape that now inhabited Earth, so when he missed, it was purposeful.

“It ain’t good form, sneakin’ up on a restin’ man.”

His words were crisp, articulated, and honestly the intruder was just lucky he happened to be in a decent mood. It would’ve been easier to kill them.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here.”

The replying voice was a stark contrast to the harshness of the life he lived. It didn’t belong, sounded far too gentle, and it aroused enough curiosity for him to tip his hat back.

Not a damn thing in the whole of the Wasteland could’ve prepared him for the sight he was met with.

Pretty, that was his first thought.

Too pretty.

Ungodly so, actually. Your eyes seemed to shine so bright in contrast to the dingy lantern that barely provided enough light to see his own hands. The slope of your nose, the cut of your cheeks, the shape of your lips- too pretty.

Not to mention the tight jumpsuit you wore, the zipper tugged down low enough on your chest to show off a healthy amount of cleavage. His fingers twitched as his eyes traced a path down your body- slow, appreciative. It’d been a damn long time since something as simple as a look could get him this worked up.

You had one visible weapon, a knife tucked into the belt of your jumpsuit, pressed into your very alluring thigh. He wondered briefly what it would feel like under his hand, wrapped tight around his waist.

“I suggest you get on your way ‘fore the next one ends up in your skull.”

It was a threat, one he emphasized with the click of his gun’s hammer.

You seemed unbothered, almost bored.

Fuck, didn’t that just annoy the piss out of him? You stumbled into his space- that he commandeered with his hard earned bullets, thank you very much- looking like fucking Aphrodite, with an expression that could, at best, be considered unconcerned.

Last he checked he was still pretty goddamn terrifying.

“Understood,” you held your hands up, and damn it all if he could ignore the pain in your gaze.

He hesitated.

It was a fraction of a fraction of a second, where he almost slipped back into Cooper Howard: the man who cared, imperceptible to most, but the small upturn of your lips told him you saw it.

He glared, holding his gun higher. You didn’t say another word, just held your hands up and walked away, but not before you met his gaze one more time.

He wished he knew what you were thinking when you muttered a soft, “thanks,” before you disappeared from the rickety building. The image haunted him for weeks, of you with your sad eyes, your face untouched by the ugliness of the world, breathing out your gratitude.

He swore he’d shoot you on sight if he ever saw you again, if only because that one encounter lingered in his mind for far too long after.

“Think they’re fuckin’?”

You startled, whipping your head up to face Cooper so quickly he was sure that it hurt. The heat that flushed your cheeks was unexpected.

“Sorry, just didn’t think you’d be so blunt.” You cleared your throat, running a hand through your hair. “Maybe, they certainly seemed interested enough in one another to… engage.”

Coop barked a laugh, low and deep.

“Engage, huh?” You narrowed your eyes at him, resting your arms on your knees. “That’s a real innocent term for a bonafide tease like yourself.”

“Tease?” You echoed, almost offended.

The red from your cheeks burned a path down your neck, to the top of your breasts, where it disappeared beneath the fabric of your jumpsuit- a path Cooper was all too eager to trace with his eyes.

He hummed an affirmative, spreading his legs out in front of him. His back was leaned against the pole of an old billboard, giving him a nice resting spot from the traveling you’d been doing.

A few days ago, your little trio ran into the same knight Cooper had gotten into a shootout with back in Filly. He’d wanted to shoot the man and be done with it, but Lucy had argued that he could help.

After much deliberation, and more than a few pleads of your own, Cooper agreed to let him live. For now.

“A tumble in the ol’ hay gettin’ you nice and shy, huh?”

You groaned, forcing your eyes down to the sand beneath your legs. He waited eagerly for your explanation.

“My dad was, uh, strict,” you supplied lamely, embarrassment burning a pyre in your stomach.

You would surely never hear the end of this.

“Darlin’, are you suggesting you’re a-“

“No,” you were quick to respond, beating back against the shame that you felt.

You’d never understand how Lucifer could be so free in his decisions, not bothering to feel any guilt over the many decidedly “un-angel-like” behaviors he had. His time on Earth with you was short, beckoned back to his prison before you could even spend a decade together, but he’d not been idle in that time.

“I’ve… engaged before.”

Cooper’s lips drew into a slow smirk, the brim of his hat hiding the way his eyes were drinking in your expression. He’d memorized the way you look time and time again- when you were happy, or sad, angry, annoyed.

Embarrassed, however, was a new one.

“And now?”

The indignation that flared in your gaze rivaled the red of your cheeks, a thrill running down Coop’s spine as you pulled yourself to your feet and stalked towards him.

“And now,” you whispered, voice barely audible above the crunch of sand beneath your boot.

As you approached, he raised his head, drawn to your stare. The breath he released was strained with anticipation.

“I think you know what I want, Coop.”

It was graceful, the way you dropped yourself to your knees and straddled him. His cock twitched at the look you fixed him with, filled with far more desire than he could ever hope to understand. A fire was burning in the air between you, begging him to close the distance and feel you.

His fingers ghosted up the side of your thighs, hovering just above your ass. He’d hoped for this moment- dreamed of it, even- but never did he expect the universe would be kind enough to deliver you to him, ready and willing.

“And what is that, darlin’?” His tone dropped low, barely a murmur from his lips in fear of ruining the moment. “Don’t be afraid to use your words.”

Your mouth was so close to his, warm breath fanning over his face. He was torn between wanting to pull you into him, and letting you take your sweet time with him. The vaultie and the knight would probably be gone for a bit longer, in search of medicine to help with his shot arm.

“Mmm,” that sweet, lilting voice was so close he could feel it, inching closer to his body.

It was overwhelming, the sensation of your thighs over his, your front grinding so gently down the hardening curve of his cock. It was heaven and hell at the same time, too much and not nearly enough. A groan might’ve tore itself from his throat, it was hard to tell over the sound of his blood rushing south, heart pumping double time to match the throbbing of his cock.

Every bit of his restraint was focused on letting you initiate, his hands flexing in the air, waiting for positive indication that he could have his wicked way with you. He could practically taste the sweet nectar between your legs, drooling at the prospect. If you tasted half as good as you looked, he’d never wish for apple pie again.

You, his tormenting angel, with wide eyes and full lips that he couldn’t seem to stay away from. You, who he once believed was a figment of his own imagination, if only because he couldn’t fathom such a delicacy still existing in this world.

“The hat.”

Your words were released on a breathy sigh, hands tracing up the textured skin of his neck, before you quickly grabbed hold of his beloved hat, delicately placing it on your own head.

The triumph in your expression didn’t last, as Cooper had no intention of this being just another game. Faster than you thought possible, and with far more force than you were used to, Coop had hooked his arms around the back of your thighs, caging you against him so you couldn’t back away as you had planned.

“This is a dangerous game you’re playin’.”

You pressed further into him, tipping his hat back with a smirk. His hips pushed up, aching for contact that you purposefully held from him.

“If I’m taking a ride, might as well play the part.”

His retort was hot on his tongue, only to be immediately swallowed by your mouth. Your lips crashed into his, rough in their ministrations. Years of dreaming about the taste of you didn’t do it any justice.

Your tongue explored his mouth with a ravenous hunger, hips moving in time with each stroke of your lips.

Fuck.

He was sure that all there was left to taste on the Earth was bitter and bland. You, however, were sweeter than he could’ve ever imagined. You tasted of vanilla, somehow, and the first crisp wind after a hot summer, and like the Earth before the war, the good things that had been destroyed and gone forever.

Holy hell, you tasted like life.

Like a deep laugh that came straight from the soul- he moaned when you tightened your grip on the fabric of his shirt, chasing every inch he’d give you- and the man Cooper Howard used to be.

His hands were eager in their exploration, mapping out a path from your thighs, to your ass, up the curve of your spine.

Fucking hell.

Every inch of you was divine, perfect in a way Cooper couldn’t even begin to understand. He wanted more. He needed more. Needed it more than he needed those damn drugs, more than he needed anything, really.

He went straight from the junction of your neck the second you broke from the kiss, mouth watering at the very thought of pressing his teeth to your sweet, soft skin.

“Cooper,” it was a whimper, a plea, and a moan all in one, and damn did his ears ring at the sound.

It went straight to his cock, making him press his hips up into yours, desperately trying to bury his length in you despite the many layers of clothing.

Your head fell back, exposing your neck even more to him, and causing his hat to tumble somewhere by his legs. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered outside of the feel of you.

His hands slid higher, on a path to your shoulders, only to stop at the sudden intake of air from you. It sounded pained, and he was dazed when you pulled away from him with a speed he’d not seen before.

One second you were hot, willing, and moaning his name, and the next you were standing over him, your eyes haunted.

“Darlin’, what-“

He saw it then, the sticky, warm red on his hands, unmistakably blood. A baser instinct wanted to lick his gloves clean of it, taste an even deeper part of you, but the human in him won out, if only for a moment.

“You didn’t think to let anyone know you’re hurtin’.”

The anger in his tone is only trumped by the worry in his eyes. Somehow, you’d wriggled your way into his nearly fucking nonexistent heart, and it seemed that you had the self-preservation of a damn baby sea turtle.

“It’s an old wound.”

The way you held your arms to your chest, almost like you were hugging yourself, told Cooper enough. It was a wound that cut deep, not because it hurt, but because of how it got there in the first place.

“Lemme see,” he said sternly, picking up his hat off the ground with a scowl.

“Today, sweetheart,” he muttered when you made no move to do so.

There was a vulnerability in your gaze, a cut so deep he knew you’d never fully heal from it. He wished he didn’t want to know, wished he didn’t care to learn what made those bright eyes dim.

You unzipped the front of your jumpsuit slowly, tantalizingly, almost like the teasing was a part of your armor- and maybe it was. Maybe it was how you convinced yourself you didn’t care as much, or how you rebelled against the father you obviously still struggled with.

You turned your back to him, baring the marred flesh without another look in his direction. Obviously, Cooper had seen many, many scars in his time. Hell, he was scarred from head to toe, flesh marked with the passage of time and the heat of radiation.

This was a little different.

You tensed as he reached a hand out. Two large gashes ran down the length of your shoulder blades, the flesh pink and raw. Scratches, deep and angry, cut between them, some bleeding and others healed. Curiously, the tips of his gloved fingers pressed to the two big scars.

In a flash you were turned around, your hands wrapped around his wrist.

“Don’t.”

A command. A plea. A whisper.

“Who did it?”

His words were hard, a rage so deep and endless rose in his chest, feeling more feral than he had his whole life. That wasn’t the scar of someone who survived an attempt on their life.

That was the scar of someone who intended to cause pain.

“Was it your daddy?”

From the very small amount of information you’d given him, he tried to piece together exactly what happened between the two of you. He didn’t know the specifics, but he did know that he’d hurt you in some unforgivable way.

Your silence was an answer in itself.

Leather creaked as he balled his hands into fists, grinding his teeth together. Cooper Howard was a monster, self-made and self-proclaimed, but he didn’t let anyone harm what was his.

And make no mistake, you were his. That kiss did just about everything to solidify it in his mind.

“If he weren’t dead already I’d hunt him down and string him up.”

It was a promise, and he wished he could bring that bastard back from the grave to punish him for putting those marks on your back and that look in your eye.

“Coop,” you approached him cautiously, returning your jumpsuit to its proper position. “He’s not dead.”

That certainly was a surprise.

And an opportunity.

“It’s more complicated than that,” you huff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. The clench on your jaw was noticeable.

“Let’s find the fucker, then.”

A long, tired sigh parted your lips. There were clearly parts of the story he was missing, and it seemed those parts painted a picture he didn’t understand.

“Let’s focus on Lucy and her dad.”

He let the silence simmer, wondering just how much he should tell you of his past. A bit of irritation flared at the idea of revealing anything. It was better to let the past die, like you said.

He grunted his agreement, not bothering to explain it to you. Maybe you’d try to stop him, or maybe you’d help him. It didn’t matter either way. You were already far closer to him than he wanted, he couldn’t risk any more of a bond forming.

“They’ll be back.”

His words were noncommittal. It was likely the vault dweller and her puppy-dog of a knight were probably alive, but he couldn’t really care less, especially when the girl's own naivety got them into this mess.

“Her heart was in the right place.”

You could see it on his face, read the expression etched in his battered skin like nobody else could.

“The right place for dyin’, maybe.” He clicked his tongue. “But I ain’t got that sorta wish right now.”

“They didn’t have to shoot,” you muttered, not nearly as worked up as you’d been earlier.

Anger isn’t an expression you wear often, so he was a little surprised when you’d been so upset with the fiends. Lucy had the bright idea of making it around them without violence, a plan that was doomed from the start.

Cooper voiced his opinion, and so did Maximus, but your encouraging little smile to Lucy made him follow with a scowl. The second they’d drawn their weapons, Coop had already shoved you behind him and dropped one of them. The knight wasn’t nearly as quick with the draw, and got a tooth bullet lodged in his arm for the effort.

He and Lucy had departed about a day ago, claiming they’d be back soon with a fully patched up knight. If it were just him, he would’ve tied them both up and dragged their asses to the head.

Better yet, just killed them both.

But you wouldn’t let him.

You’d always erred on the side of good, a little too soft for the world around you. He’d seen you mean, seen you stand your ground, but you helped far more than you’d hurt. The vault dweller seemed to only be intensifying it, making you believe in a pipe dream that was sure to get you a one way ticket to eternity.

“I’m going to check-“

“(Y/N)!”

Lucy’s voice cracked through the Wasteland like shattering glass. Whereas his annoyance at the sudden arrival of his unwanted companions reflected on his face, you managed a small smile.

“I was beginning to think you’d left us.”

It was a joke. Whatever bond had formed between you and Lucy had clearly earned you some amount of loyalty, and even if she would’ve ditched Cooper any chance she got, she definitely wouldn’t have left you. And if she refused to, it was no surprise Maximus also did.

“I take it you’re feeling better?” Your gaze fell where the bullet had struck, and there was a curious look in your eyes. You’d mentioned before that you used to be good with fixing people up, so he had a feeling you were reminiscing on another tidbit of life he wasn’t privy to.

“Ain’t no reason to gawk here like a bunch of sittin’ ducks,” Coop stalked passed the three of you, not interested in the camaraderie.

“Right,” Lucy cleared her throat, “Glad to see nothing’s changed.”

“Just ‘cause you took lover boy here for a little ride on company property ain’t mean the rest of the world changed.”

Your sudden intake of breath definitely didn’t go unnoticed. It seemed that despite the previous interruption, you were enjoying rubbing yourself up on Coop as much as he was.

“Sex,” Lucy clarified to Maximus at the man’s confused expression.

“Watch out,” Cooper warned the other man with a sarcastic smile on his lips. “Them Vauties are just breeding factories, might end up with a little unexpected squire.”

“Cooper,” you chided, catching up to walk beside him.

Sometimes, being bitter about children in general helped him cope with the loss of his own.

“It is our privilege to one day repopulate the Earth,” Lucy confirmed, shrugging. “Women just have the responsibility of choosing the right partner.”

“I’m not sure-“ Maximus tried to speak, only to be interrupted by Cooper.

“Unsurprising.”

“(Y/N)?”

It was a low blow, Lucy asking for your opinion, knowing that even if he didn’t say it in so many words, it was obvious the ghoul valued it far more than any others. You raised a brow, shrugging.

“I haven’t really thought of it.”

“Of having kids?” Lucy pushed.

This was quickly entering uncomfortable territory, and Lucy didn’t really know where the boundary was.

“Of any sort of future, honestly.”

She took your answer in stride, though. Allowing the topic to drop off into silence. It didn’t stay that way for very long, idle chatter amongst you, Maximus, and Lucy. Cooper would very rarely comment, but he preferred to stay focused on his surroundings.

Day bled to night, which bled to day again. Time was beginning to slip past as you neared the location of the head, frustration growing in Cooper. Any opportunity he had to speak with you in private was interrupted, the traveling party growing too large for his liking.

Perhaps, after this whole ordeal, it’ll be just you and him.

Perhaps he liked the sound of that a little too much.

#cooper howard x reader #cooper howard insert #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x you #the ghoul insert #fallout x reader #fallout reader insert #this is far too much fun to write

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levi501ackerman · 29 days

Text

Object of Affection | Levi x Reader Fluff

masterlist

Summary: Some may think Levi is whipped or your servant. But acts of service is how Levi shows his love

Word Count: 1.9k

Author's Note: song correlated: Ridin' by ASAP Rocky ft. Lana Del Rey. btw whenever I say song correlated I dont mean it with the intention to offer to listen to it while reading. It was just the song that inspired the idea or that was on loop while writing. posted: 4/18/24. I'm really glad AOT has sparked me to write again. I need more practice lol. Enjoy.

Eren, Jean, and Armin were the first of your friends to be sitting at breakfast in the dining hall. Sasha was in one of the lines to get food. It was a sunny day and a few ODM drills were available for whoever wanted the practice. Some other classes were going on as well. It was a general casual day for the scouts. For some scout units, there was food preparation for future expeditions, but for you and your friends, you did not have much on the agenda.

“I think I’m going to do some drills today,” Eren said. “Are you going to join us?” He asked Armin who usually went to Erwin’s office.

“Yeah, I can. I finished the little project with Commander Erwin.” He said then took a bite of his bread. Sasha hurried to the table to sit down. Her plate had a bigger portion than everyone else at the table. “It is a nice day outside too.”

More people started entering the dining area. The morning crowd of scouts was starting to pick up. Jean noticed you and Levi walked through the door.

“Y/N’s coming. Maybe she’ll practice with us,” Jean said. The table noticed Levi say something to you and then you smiled and started going towards them.

“I don’t know she’s been spending a lot of time with Hange and Moblit doing research and testing theories,” Eren said.

“Morning guys!” Sasha brightly greeted the table. The line for breakfast was moving a little slower with the incoming scouts. Everyone acknowledged Sasha.

“Sasha, are you going to do drills today? We’re all going to.” Armin asked invitingly.

“Yeah, and I think Y/N was thinking about it too,” Sasha said. You approached the table and smiled at your friends.

“Are you not going to eat?” Jean asked.

“Levi’s getting my food.” You said. They look over to see Levi's arms crossed standing in line with the scouts.

“Why don’t you get your food yourself?” Eren asked

“Levi knows I don’t like standing in lines so he just said he’ll start getting my food.” You said. Jean and Eren laughed.

“Wow if only I could have the captain serve me food.” Jean joked and you rolled your eyes with a smile on your face.

“He’s not serving me, he just knows I don’t like standing in lines so he offered to get my food from now on.”

“What if he gets you the wrong food?” Eren asked.

“Well Levi knows what I like,” you said.

“We’re going to do drills today, you should come,” Armin said. Most of your free time has been spent with Hange and Moblit. You looked up to Hange and she liked you. You enjoyed working with her and in general learning more about the titans.

“Yeah, I’ll come.” You said and your friends were elated you were joining them. “Ugh wait! I forgot my belt and some straps in my room.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s such a nice day out for drills too. Hopefully, it won’t get hotter.”

A few minutes later, Levi put a plate of breakfast in front of you. He softly smiled.

“Do you want water or tea?” Levi asked.

“Water please.” You said and then he walked away.

“Yeah sounds like a server to me,” Jean said.

“Stop it, Jean. He’s not serving me. When you get a girlfriend you’ll understand that you’ll want to help her and make her feel like she doesn’t need to worry about anything.” You said back.

“I feel sorry for whoever decides to date you, Jean,” Sasha said with a full mouth and you both giggled.

“Whatever I am a catch,” Jean said. Levi came back with water for you and some tea for himself.

“I have a meeting I’m going to go to now,” Levi said to you. The table greeted Captain Levi and he acknowledged them normally.

“I’m going to do drills today with my friends.” You said to him.

“Nice weather for that today.”

“Yeah, but, I left my belt in my room—”

“I can go get it.” Levi offered.

“Thank you that would be really helpful.” You said and he left for his meeting.

“Y/N’s has him whipped,” Jean said.

Truly you did. Levi wanted to help you in any way he could. On the last expedition, he made sure you had your own food to take of yourself. Levi always triple-checked that your gear was in top shape. If you mentioned something was sore, he would offer his best to massage you. If you mentioned anything that inconvenienced you he would do his best to find a way to fix it for you. You once mentioned that the drawer to your nightstand kept getting stuck halfway when pulling it out and you would have to tug hard to get it to keep pulling out. Later that day he took apart your nightstand to fix the sliding drawer. All of a sudden it was working and you didn��t think about it anymore. You didn’t even know Levi fixed it until a week later.

Once, when you and Levi passed by a stationary shop, you mentioned how you have been journaling since you were young. You had eight journals and mentioned a slight fear that they would end up getting damaged or burned in a fire. You treasured your journals that were filled with your memories. He later got you a small perfect-sized fire box that you could keep your journals safe in.

You and Sasha met up with Mikasa and decided to be grouped for the drills. It was getting a little warmer than expected. But there was still a slight breeze. You three started stretching and getting your gear together. Then you noticed Levi walking up to you with the belt and straps you needed.

“I got the belt you needed,” Levi said and your heart fluttered. It was so sweet how helpful he’s always been.

“Thank you,” You said.

“You look really pretty,” He said and you blushed a little.

“I’m about to get really sweaty.” You laughed.

“It’s starting to get hotter.” He said squinting and looking up at the sky. “Show the dummy titans no mercy.” He said and you smiled while watching him walk off.

“You two are so freaking cute!” Sasha said making you blush more. “I’m so excited for when I get a boyfriend and we can go on double dates!” That did excite you and you smiled.

“I can’t wait to meet the guy who deserves you.” You said while putting on your belt and straps. “A guy that’s sweet.”

“I think you need someone who loves meat just as much as you do,” Mikasa said. “Or someone who can cook—” Sasha squealed.

“Oh my god that would be perfect!”

“That would be the perfect guy for you,” you said.

“You guys want to compete for the most kills?” Jean called out in the distance. Connie was now with him, Eren, and Armin.

“Mikasa is going to win! Back out now while you can!” You yelled back. The drills began. “Mikasa you should give him a head start!” You said and Sasha laughed. Though it was spring and getting greener outside the temperature got hot while everyone was doing drills. It was an unexpected rise. You pulled at your shirt trying to get ventilation whenever you had the time to do so. The heat made everyone work harder because flying in the air gave everyone a slight breeze. After the drills, everyone was sweating. It was a good workout but people were getting tired quicker because of the heat. When walking back to your stuff Sasha was giving Jean crap about Mikasa beating him. It wasn’t a surprise but the competition did make Jean work harder. Jean was a great scout and even gave you some helpful pointers with the ODM gear. Out of everyone doing the drills, he got the second-highest kill count right behind Mikasa. As you approached your stuff you noticed three water bottles that were perspirating because of the heat.

“Is this not where we put our stuff?” Sasha asked. But then she saw her bag and Mikasa saw her stuff.

“Whose water bottles are these?” Mikasa asked. You noticed the drenched little note under the water bottle closest to your stuff. The note read: I noticed you guys didn’t have water. Stay hydrated.

“They’re from Levi. He got us water because he saw we didn’t have any.” You said and Sasha started chugging hers.

“That’s considerate of him,” Mikasa said and the three of you started chugging the cold water.

“Thanks, Levi it hit the spot!” Sasha said and crinkled her empty bottle.

“I need to change, I’m so sweaty and probably smell bad.” You said. Many scouts who did drills all had the same idea to take cold rinse-off showers. No one was expecting a spike in the temperature. When you got back to your room with Sasha. You noticed another water bottle and a note near your bed. It was from Levi again. Come to my office for dinner. You smiled and told Sasha. Your heart fluttered because he was so sweet and no one else saw this side of him. He used to be so shy in front of you and you used to think he didn’t like you. Levi would be his normal self to everyone but then he would be quiet in front of you. It made you feel insecure until Hange exposed Levi. She and Moblit told you that Levi talked a lot about you and wanted to get to know you. Hange may have been the one to tell you that Levi thought you were pretty. Which gave you the confidence to approach him.

In the evening you went to Levi’s room, and you were ready for some alone time. When you knocked on the door, Levi opened it pretty quickly. He shut the door behind you and embraced you in a big hug. He smelled nice and then you noticed the smell of his office.

“Sit down I made us some soup.” He said. “I saw they had that bean mixture you don’t like for dinner.” Your heart fluttered and the soup smelled good. The smell made you hungrier than you were before. “I got some bread and mashed potatoes though to fill you up more. You need the energy from being outside most of the day.” He said.

“Thank you, Levi,” You said grateful for how thoughtful he is. It was so nice how much he tried to help you or thought of ways to make your life easier.

“Anything for you, Y/N,” He said and you two began eating. The soup was satisfying and Levi getting bread for it was a good idea. Honestly, Levi did a lot for you because he cared for you so much. He had little to no dating experience before you and he did not want to do anything to make you feel like he didn’t respect you. Levi has always been considerate of you since you started getting close and dating. He would listen you to and remember little things about you. You felt cared for and though you and Levi haven’t told one another that you loved each other. You already knew.

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steddieas-shegoes · 1 year

Text

Steve very rarely gets sick. He prides himself on it.

But when Eddie spent three days in a row in bed with a fever, puking every time he got up, and coughing everywhere he could reach, Steve had no choice but to stay and take care of him. Which meant he spent three days in direct contact with whatever virus decided to leave Eddie bedridden.

Halfway through his shift at Family Video, he turned to Robin and said he was going to pass out.

She didn’t believe him, laughed it off like he was being dramatic. “You’ve been hanging around Eddie too much lately.”

So when he passed out five seconds later, she panicked. He opened his eyes to her frantically trying to move him onto his side.

“Robs, ‘s not a seizure.”

“Right, but what if you puke?”

“I’m just dehydrated.”

He wasn’t just dehydrated.

He was dehydrated and feverish and exhausted.

He was sick.

Robin called Eddie to come pick him up, rambling nervously over the phone about his symptoms. Steve couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but he knew Eddie was probably laughing at the situation.

“He’ll be here to get you in 10 minutes. Can you please not pass out again because I don’t think I can handle it.”

“Sure, I’ll just tell my brain to hold off until Eddie’s here.”

“Thanks.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he settled on the floor behind the counter. Robin wouldn’t let him stand up again in case he fell and hit his head, which was actually probably a smart move.

When Eddie arrived, he took one look at Steve on the floor and sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

“I warned you, Stevie! I said ‘you’re gonna get sick, you shouldn’t stay’ and what did you do? Mommed yourself right into the flu.”

Steve didn’t dignify that with an answer, mostly because it would take too much energy to give one. He stood on shaking legs and made his way to the door.

He felt so weak, he barely registered when his knees started to buckle. Strong arms wrapped around him from behind and held him up.

“Jesus, Steve. Were you feeling this bad when you left home?”

Steve shook his head and let out an embarrassing whine. His head was throbbing, a dull ache set in shortly after he got to work, and only got worse after he passed out.

“Can you make it to the van or do you need me to carry you?”

“I can make it, just…help?”

Eddie kept an arm wrapped around Steve’s waist, supporting most of his weight as they walked to his van. He opened the passenger side door and helped Steve get seated and as comfortable as possible.

Steve let out another small whine when he realized he would have to move to buckle himself in.

“What’s wrong?”

Eddie was so nice. Maybe he could buckle him.

“Belt?”

Eddie wordlessly reached for the belt and buckled Steve in, his hair brushing along Steve’s cheek and chest as he pulled away.

Steve repressed another whine, though for a different reason, when Eddie’s hand brushed against his thigh.

His thighs were sensitive, even in jeans. Sue him.

Steve nodded off during the drive to his house, barely aware of Eddie singing along to something on the radio.

When they arrived, Eddie unbuckled Steve’s seatbelt and helped him out of the van. He was saying something to Steve, but his brain wasn’t processing any of it.

He could barely keep his eyes open while Eddie got him upstairs and into bed.

He could feel Eddie’s rough hands gently pulling off his jeans and shirt, but couldn’t offer much help.

Passing out really did a number on him.

“Yeah, I think it did.”

Oh. Steve said that out loud. Interesting.

“You don’t do anything halfway, do you? Get sick and it’s like your brain’s melted out your ears.”

Steve let out a giggle before relaxing against his pillow.

Eddie started to tuck him in, pulling his covers up to his chin and brushing a piece of hair away from his face.

“I’m gonna get you some water. You hungry?”

Steve felt his stomach turn at just the thought of food touching his mouth. He used all of his remaining energy to shake his head.

“Be right back, Stevie.”

**********

When Steve opened his eyes again, it was too dark to even recognize his own bed. It’s been so long since he slept with no light, he felt disoriented and scared that the power had gone out.

Just as he was struggling to sit up, he heard a grumble from the floor followed by a groan.

“It’s okay, Stevie. I’ll get the light.”

Before Steve could process who the voice belonged to, his bedside lamp turned on and covered him in a golden glow.

Eddie.

The room started spinning around him before he could say anything. He closed his eyes to avoid the disorientation, but it only made it worse.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart. I’ve got ya.”

And he did. Eddie’s arms were wrapping around Steve and pulling him against his chest, solidifying his presence in one place despite everything else in the room moving.

Steve melted into Eddie, breathing in the faint leather and smoke smell that never failed to make him feel safe.

“You just have no filter when you’re sick, huh?”

Eddie laughed softly, brushing his lips against the top of Steve’s head.

Steve didn’t give a response, not able to actually produce words when he wants to, apparently.

“You’re burning up. I got some Tylenol for you while you slept. You should take some now and try to rest.”

“Stay?”

Eddie didn’t respond, just moved to grab the water from the table and hand it to Steve. He watched as he took the Tylenol, telling him he did a good job before putting the water back on the table.

Just as Steve settled against Eddie’s chest again, he was moved away by strong hands.

The whimper he let out stopped Eddie in his tracks.

“Are you in pain? Robin said your migraines get so bad sometimes you can’t move. Is that happening?”

Steve shook his head, immediately regretting doing so when the room started spinning again.

“Stay.”

It only took a moment for Eddie to adjust them both so they could lay down together. Steve wasted no time in curling into Eddie’s side, and Eddie’s hand found it’s way to Steve’s hair.

His fingers gently pulled through some of the tangles, smiling to himself when Steve couldn’t hold back a shiver.

“Feel okay?”

“Mhm.”

“Can’t believe you let me get you sick.”

“‘S worth it.”

“You’re ridiculous. Go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Promise?”

Eddie only hesitated a moment before dropping a kiss to Steve’s forehead.

“Promise.”

They hadn’t acknowledged the way Steve had acted when taking care of Eddie. They hadn’t talked about the cuddling and small kisses to his hair or cheek or nose. They hadn’t even been around each other since Eddie was feeling better.

But this felt like a turning point - no more ignoring the way they felt about each other. If Eddie was reading things right, Steve wasn’t just like this because he was sick and slightly delusional.

They’d have a talk when he was better, but for now, Eddie let Steve suction himself to his side and take the comfort he needed.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #headcanon #ao3fic #shout at me about steddie #my fic #tumblr drabbles #sick fic #I actually started writing this one before I did the Eddie sick one with no intention of doing an Eddie one #but then I ended up liking the Eddie one more so that’s what got posted #I still don’t like this one nearly as much #but y’all are hoes for sick fic like me so come get y’all juice

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marleysfinest · 6 months

Text

reiner on the brain don't mind me. I blame/thank @whatthefucksatan for the inspo

just clingy reiner x fem reader smut idk how else to put it. not proofread! just horny!

cw extremely vanilla but passionate sex. creampie woop woop, fingering

wc 1k

we all know that reiner is the definition of a devoted husband. he bypasses each and every silly cliché - he's doing the dishwasher without being asked, he's taking out the trash the second it's full, he's bringing you a hot coffee every single morning without fail. but what about when he's been away? what about when you've had to do all of these things (these things that are, really, benign and boring and things that everyone does without giving them a second thought) for a handful of days while he's away with work?

he's torn up every morning thinking about how you're having to get out of bed to make your own coffee and run your own bath in the evenings. it wasn't as if he left on purpose, if he refused to go on this work trip then his job was on the line. you insist over and over that you'll be fine, which you are, but it doesn't stop reiner feeling guilty.

he collides with you the second he walks through the door, throwing his suitcase to the side, sending it clanging against the wall. he's barely closed the door behind him by the time he's hoisting you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

"I missed you."

you know that he means it. he claws and grabs at you like you're his lifeline, his air supply. he can't get close enough to you, it's as if he's trying to make up for lost time. every kiss against your neck is a silent apology for nights spent texting your "goodnight" instead of whispering it directly against his lips. you glance into his eyes and simultaneously feel a buzz of excitement and a shiver of anticipation - he looks at you almost like you're prey.

together you stumble to the living room where reiner wastes no time in resting you on the arm of the sofa, removing his jacket and tie and throwing them carelessly to the floor as he moves on to the strings of your sweats, pulling them apart and slipping both hands beneath your waistband. he grabs meaty handfuls of your ass and pulls you against him, making sure you can feel how hard he already is, before pulling your sweats down over your feet. he catches a glimpse of how wet you are through your panties and huffs a quiet but guttural groan. he slipped a hand beneath the thin fabric and pressed himself against your heat, while he undid his belt with the other. he coated his fingers with the slick that had already gathered, managing to restrain himself for a moment longer, never once tearing his eyes from yours. he loved nothing more than the way your brows knitted together when he made you feel good, the way your mouth fell into a gentle "o", and your hips pushed against him ever so slightly. there was a degree of selfishness to it - to know that he was the one making you come undone, but above anything else he just loved seeing you writhe in pleasure.

after toying with you as long as he could bear, he lowers you down onto the couch so you're laying splayed in front of him, but keeping your hips and ass on the arm of the sofa. he hoists your ankles onto his shoulders and folds you over as he slips inside you, stretching your cunt in the way you love nice and slowly.

"god, I missed this pussy."

he nips at your ankles and peppers your legs in light kisses as he tries to resist the temptation, but it's too much. three days was too long. he needs you now. without warning he begins to thrust into you, drinking in the sight of your tits bouncing and the sound of your moaning. you are everything to him when you're like this - helplessly and mindlessly his. your eyelashes flutter as you let yourself be taken by the pleasure, revelling in how he's fucking into you with such force and keeping you folded in half with your knees almost touching your shoulders. your hips would surely soon give way, but you don't care. between the way he's hitting your sweet spot and how he has a grip on your thigh guaranteed to leave a bruise, you feel the familiar knot and build up of your own release.

"gonna cum, baby?"

he knows you so well. he knows every tell, every sign that he's doing something right. the idea that you're about to cum drives him forward to the edge, but he holds off - somehow - until he has you begging for your release. tears trickle from the corner of your eyes as he doesn't relent, and soon you let go and cum on his cock. you pulse around him and can feel your juices drip onto the couch, but he isn't done with you yet.

reiner fucks you through your orgasm until he permits himself to finish, and pumps you full of his release. he falls on top of you as you both pant and return to earth, although apparently, it's not enough for him.

"was that three days' worth?" you ask. he thinks for a moment, before reaching down to your sensitive heat.

"I don't think it was."

using your fluids as lube, he slips two fingers inside.

dividers @/saradika

#I just reeeeeeeeeeeeally need him to fuck me senseless #like his life depends on it ykwis?#reiner braun #reiner x reader #aot #reiner smut

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themotherofhorses · 1 year

Note

Vic!! I have a request pretty pls hehehe,

Creepy dark! Aemond forcing his way with fem!reader as she sleeps after stalking him for many moons? PWEASEEE

what was mine is still mine, regardless of time.

pairing: soft but dark!aemond targaryen x fem!targaryen!reader

warnings: explicit language. nsfw smut. slight breeding kink towards the end. consented abduction. aemond is (as usual) obsessive and possessive but is actually kinda a sweetheart in this.

notes: ok so small thing: i kinda put my own twist to this request, because this sort of idea has lived in my head RENT FREE since forevvaaa. hope u enjoy it :)

masterlist

Dragonstone was quiet when arrived, the sea tide calm and peaceful.

Aemond Targaryen could not remember the last time he stepped foot in the castle, if he ever did at all, having spent the entirety of his life behind the bronze doors of the Red Keep. He did not care for the damned island, nor did he hold any love for its people, but his twentieth nameday was fast approaching, and his mother was insisting more and more that he take a wife soon.

“Now, where will you be,” he mumbles to himself as he rips off his riding gloves and tucks them into his belt.

The castle hallways were without light, and no houseguards stood afoot. Aemond smirks. It would be much easier for him to find you, tucked away in your own chamber.

Your personal chamber was nicely furnished, in the colors and style of your shared noble house, and had an aura belonging only to a Targaryen princess. Thick wool carpets covered the floor instead of harsh black stone, and your windows were cracked open just a little, with pretty drapes swaying from the light ocean breeze. The walls were hung with different tapestries, all of horses and dragons, and the doors were flanked by Valyrian sphinxes.

And to the corner was your bed, where you, his niece, lay atop, fast asleep.

Aemond wills his heart to continue beating, and for his cock to behave.

He has not laid eyes on you in almost a full decade, ten years too long for him. Both your parents whisked you away to Dragonstone when you were still a child, soft-faced and in the mid of girlhood.

They refused his mother’s offer for a betrothal between the two of you, and broke his heart to the tiniest of pieces that he wondered if they were still scattered around the Keep. But that was so many moons ago, and time slipped by him.

“Gods be good,” Aemond whispers, moving closer.

What has happened to that little girl, that kid niece of his? In her place sleeps a living goddess, too lovely for mankind. You’ve grown beautiful, a mirror image to your mother, his eldest sister. He bends to kiss your bare shoulder- just a simple and tiny kiss- and you stir in your sleep. It is cute, he admits, but he also can not wait another second longer.

Only the gods above know how much he’s wanted you.

With a hard yank, Aemond draws back the bedsheet covers, causing you to jolt up from the bed. You look around, confused and scared and still half-asleep, purple eyes clouding from drowsiness. In front of you sits a stranger, a man- silver-haired and cloaked in black riding leather. Across his eye, an eyepatch.

Your heart quickens at the sight. “Aemond…?” you call out, unsure.

He smiles, teeth and all. “You do not know how happy it makes me to know you are still able to recognize me, my niece. After all, it has been awhile- ten years, has it not?”

You shrug, trying to wipe the sleep away from your eyes. “What…what are you doing here?” you ask, while patting down the bed, looking for the sheets to cover your chest. “Should you not be at King’s Landing? Why are you here?” Your eyes grow as wide as a dinner plate as you soon add, “Oh no, has something happened? Is it my grandfather?”

But Aemond scoots closer, bringing his face to yours. “Do not fret, nice. I’m here on my own wishes,” and he twirls a thin strand of silver hair around his finger, humming as he watches it fall back around your shoulder. In that sheer Dornish nightgown, you look good enough to eat, and the princeling is feeling beyond ravenous.

“I’m here to collect a debt.”

Lucerys…you think, a sinking feeling in your chest. His stolen eye, that night on Driftmark…

Ten years and Aemond still seeks revenge.

“No,” Aemond says, shaking his head. He moves even closer, grabbing at your shoulders. His palms are rough and callous. “I would dare not hurt you. Anyone but you. You…” he sighs, “-you were promised to me, back when we were children. You were meant to be my wife, and they stole you from me. The only good fucking thing in my life, and it was taken away…”

He studies you, his eye running across your face, down your neck and to your chest.

That Dornish nightgown clings loose to your body, and he can see your nipples perk against the fabric. It sends blood rushing between his thighs. “Tell me, niece, what did I do to deserve that?”

“Aemond…”

“No!” he hisses, tightening his grip on you. “No! You have not the slightest idea of the fucking torture I’ve endured these years. The nights I stayed up, begging to the gods that I might have you. I thought…maybe if they heard my pleas, saw my faith, they would…but no. Ten years, and not a single glimpse of you.” Your breath hitches when he meets your gaze, “I dreamt of you, every damned night. Fought the urges to fly over and collect you from here…”

You shake your head. “Aemond…” you say, softly. “I’m betrothed to another, this cannot be.” You press your hand against his cheek, feeling him lean into your touch, and kiss his forehead. “I have missed you greatly, uncle, but it has been years! So many years. I’m to be married soon.” You pull back, “It is best if you return home, and start finding a lady of your own choosing.”

Aemond sighs, and inside his chest, he feels his heart being ripped apart again.

“You are right, my dearest niece. My sincerest apologies for waking you up, it was quite wrong of me. I shall see myself out,” and he kisses your hand, brushing his lips against your knuckles. “I wish you all the luck in your marriage, and may your husband love and appreciate you till the dying days of his damned life.”

You smile at him, though a bit sad now. “Thank you, uncle. To you as well.”

The princeling turns to leave, and you sit up watching as he makes his way to your door, before sinking back into your bed. “Goodbye, Aemond,” you call out, one final time before your eyes close, failing to see him pause and turn around to look at you.

What was he doing? Foolish man, he thinks. Foolish, stupid man!

Was it in his nature to admit defeat so easily, and to some unnamed wastrel cunt of a man? No. Throughout his life, Aemond suffered nothing but tremendous losses, while being denied the goodness and fairness that a child should’ve had. His lips pucker at the thought.

You were right there, close enough for him to finally claim.

And so he did.

“Shhh, keep your voice down,” Aemond tuts next to your ear, a heavy arm slung over your naked breasts as he holds you as close to his chest as possible. It feels as if he is frightened to let you go, worried you would disappear before his very eye, with another ten years slipping by until he finds you again.

His other hand lies between your trembling thighs, fingering you with such an intensity and speed that it leaves you utterly ruined and in tears. “Aemond…” you hiccup, nibbling at your bottom lip as he groans. “Fuck! You sound so good when you say my name like that. Gods be good, you are wet. Absolutely soaking my fingers. Doesn’t this feel good?” he asks, using his thumb to rub at your clit. “Yeah…it does, doesn’t it?”

You sniffle, fat tears streaking down both cheeks as you nod.

Oh, it feels good. So good, but so wrong as well.

You were to be married in less than a fortnight, to a highborn lord of House Stark, handsome and kind. How would you explain this to him? Or to your parents, who proposed the marriage between you two? How would you tell them that you were ruined? And it was your uncle’s fault.

“Please, Aemond…”

Aemond grabs at your jaw, cradling it in his hand before pulling it close to his face. “Shhh, it will be alright, my love. Do not fret. You will be okay, just give in,” he whispers, quickening his fingers as he fucks them into you, curling two to hit your sweet spot. You almost scream, so overcome with pleasure that it hurts. “This is where you are meant to be, darling, make no mistake in believing that. My bride, my love.”

My woman, he thinks gleefully, watching how your face scrunches up. Your eyebrows furrow and your mouth press together in a tight line, and it is the most beautiful sight.

My woman, made for me. Made for my love and protection and seed…

Goosebumps prickle along your arms as wet sounds echo across the chamber, followed by a strew of whimpers and moans. It sounds so dirty, so sinful and wrong that you pray to whichever god was listening in that no one would overhear such, especially your parents and siblings. Your father would have Aemond’s head, no doubt, and your older brother might rob him of his only other good eye.

“Oh, fuck…” you moan, flinging your head back, “-don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

A minute or so later, your vision blackens, the room spins, and your jaw slacks as you cum plenty around his fingers, all with such a high-pitched shriek that Aemond slaps a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise. “What did I say? Stay quiet!” he hisses before chuckling, smearing the mess around your folds while you make an attempt to catch your breath. “Very good, my love. You did so well for me.”

He brings a finger to his mouth, to suck at the taste. “Your taste is heavenly,” he moans, swirling his tongue around it. He then brings two to your mouth, swiping at the tiny bit of drool pooling before stuffing them in. “Suck. Taste yourself now.”

“Dirty girl,” Aemond hums, a smirk curving on his lips as he watches the way you lick and suck at his fingers. “You are digging a grave too deep to escape, darling.”

Ruin me, you want to say. If I’m to die, I rather it be in your hands than anyone else’s…

He lays you back down on the bed next, making sure your head rests comfortably against the pillows. Ten years, Aemond reminds himself. Ten fucking years. He can feel his resolve slowly weakening by the second. You’re too beautiful, too soft and womanly and perfect for him. Every fantasy he dreamt up during boyhood never claim as close as to this. “I dreamt of this for fucking years,” he admits while kissing your pink and pouty lips. “All the possible ways to take you, to fuck this pretty cunt of yours.”

Your legs wrap around his hips as he pushes his cock inside you. It is painful- undeniably painful- yet he swallows every cry and wince and moan that you give. Your fingernails dig into his skin from the terrible pain- the stretch and the sting and the weird feeling growing deep within your tummy.

“It is too much…!” you whimper against his lips. “Hurts!”

“Of course it hurts, darling, it is your first time. Every woman hurts when a man takes her first blood. But you can take it.”

“No,” you whine, trying to shove him away. “No, Aemond, it hurts too much-” But Aemond only kisses your temple, sweet and gentle and lovingly, while rocking his hips against yours. “It’ll feel so good soon, my love, trust me. I would never do anything to hurt you, not my precious and sweet girl,” he coos, leaning to rub your noses together, “-my brave girl.”

Ten years.

He could not stop, even if he wished to. No, not now that he finally has you, underneath his body and wet and ripe for his seed.

“I’ll give you our child,” he mutters beside your lips as he pinches your nipple between two fingers and keeps his thrusts hard, deep, and fast. All of it makes your face twist in a soft gasp, your body tightening as you feel that thick rush of pleasure from before, right before you creamed over his fingers.

“Take my seed and have our child. I promise to take you back to King’s Landing and marry you," he vows through ragged breaths, "and spend the rest of our lives making up for those ten years.”

“Aemond,” you pant, clutching onto his shoulders and dragging his face down for a kiss. His skin is sweaty and flushed, and he has never appeared so beautiful before. You love him. You love him so much, how did you spend ten years without seeing him? It makes no sense. You understand his woes now, clear as day, and you want to rid of them forever.

“I love you! I love you, I love you, make me your wife, please. Please!”

He feels your cunt tightening around his cock, and he is ready to give you everything: his heart, his soul, and his seed.

Come the morning, his son will be swelling within your belly, and he will have you seated atop Vhagar, flying back to the Keep to make you his wife, in both the eyes of the gods and the laws of the land.

The next day, at dawning, Rhaenyra Targaryen’s only daughter does not join her family to break fast together. Her three half-brothers and two half-sisters raise eyebrows as they munch quietly on their meals but keep silent, all until little Joffrey asks where his older sister might be. Rhaenyra does not know, and neither do the houseguards, the men of the small council, and the maesters, and it worries her greatly.

Her husband, though, is quick to remind her that the princess- ever their trueborn child- enjoys morning rides on dragonback. “Give her a few hours and she will surely return with a new story to tell us,” Daemon says, while sipping on his wine.

But a few hours turn into the rest of the day, and soon evening creeps by.

A raven arrives from King’s Landing, bearing the family a note:

“I’ve taken what was owed to me. Such a pity you all forgot that what was mine is still mine, regardless of time.”

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x you #dark aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #request #vic writes 🧸

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