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yanderestarangel · 1 month

Note

did u delete a fic? i swear i saw a tio!miguel fic earlier today

a/n: hi angel! thank you for asking, in fact there was an age restriction and I decided to delete it, I'll take advantage of your comment and repost it. ✧⁠*ᜊ( ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᜊ.

"TIO" MIGUEL O'HARA X FTM READER

𝐓𝐖: dark plot, toxic relationship, power play, non con, dub con, manipulation, age gap, step!incest (non-blood uncle), invasion of privacy, stalking, threat, dead dove, dark smut, latino ftm reader, femboy reader, jealousy, aggressive sex, recorded sex, dom!miguel, v!sex, blowjob, spanish nicknames, send nudes, degradation, objectification, AU, male x male, porn plot, long fic, brain rot, creampie, blackmail.

Family parties were normal for your family, getting together some close relatives and celebrating on any weekend, always with plenty of music and laughter filling your ears, was annoying at times, but you couldn't say 'no' to a tradition.

You felt the cold of the night breeze enter your skin, each hair left its place accompanied by a strange chill ── you were being watched, and you knew very well who it was... Tio Miguel.

Miguel O'Hara was a friend of your father, a mysterious and serious man, even though your family welcomed him as if he shared the same blood, he still had the same look of rigidity and seriousness ── no one knew much about his past, if he had some relationship or family before moving to your city years ago, but it was only said that he worked as a caretaker on some local farms ── which made him earn too much money for a simple caretaker, but that matter was not touched by no one in your family.

You obeyed the strict rule of calling him "Uncle" or "Tio", since when he arrived, when his eyes met yours, it was as if something awakened in his core ── a flame lost for years, now burning in his soul, and you it was the kerosene that made this fire worse.

Your attention returned to reality, seeing the tanned man go to the place where you were, sitting next to you; muscular legs crammed into the black jeans he always wore, with a weather-beaten dress shirt that had previously been white, now appeared to be a light vanilla shade, hugging the girth of his robust muscles. He had a cold, fresh can of beer in his right hand, while his left went towards his hair, arranging some loose strands that insisted on falling on his forehead, his lips formed a thin line, the corners turned down in disapproval ── The sight of you hiding from the celebration hurt him, a pang of possessiveness invaded his chest, soon remembering the things he had seen, however, before touching on the topic of rupture the words came out softly from his throat.

"What is wrong, carinõ?"

He asked softly, hand reaching out to take yours gently. His grip was firm but not unnecessarily tight, calloused skin warm against your own.

"You should be out there, dancing and laughing with your family... You seem thoughtful mi principito"

You sighed in response, quickly explaining that you weren't in a party mood, your hands went back to the cell phone that was previously in your pocket, making the Mexican's eyes narrow in response to such an act. O'Hara took a deep breath, feeling the air fill his lungs, then crushing the drink can in his hand and turning to you, he knew exactly what he wanted to know and he wanted the truth.

"Who was that boy, mi vida?”

He questioned, pulling you closer to his frame as the music swelled around you. His fingers traced idle patterns on your back, you felt the burn of heat on his body, the smell of expensive men's perfume and cheap alcoholic drink.

"You were speaking so intimately with him..."

His voice was a low purr, tinged with warning.

"This is our moment, just us... I dropped that phone." That was a threat, making you make a quick excuse ── after all, you knew exactly what he was talking about, you were going out with "Hobbie Brown", a friend from your college, but you didn't expect your uncle to have seen the two of you together (but it wasn't very difficult, you and the boy always clung to each other even if you didn't have anything officially. )

You moved away from Miguel's heat, before the sensation was still tolerable, but now it seemed like a violent flame and about to explode like a time bomb. Your mouth opened, speaking sweet lies, trying to mask the fact that you were going out with Hobbie ── you knew that the best way was to lie, even if it didn't do anything, you had already seen how your non-sanguine uncle acted like a crazy man when you were around people other than him. Miguel's eyebrows arched in disbelief, dark brows furrowing deeply. "Tell me, corazón, is there something you wish to confess to me?"

He asked, tilting his head curiously. His gauze lingered on your lips, as if he could taste the lie on them. "I see what happens around me, my heart."

He murmured, his voice low and dangerous.

"And I do not like it... Do not lie to me, mi angel, because the next lie I hear from your sweet lips, you'll regret it." The sound of his voice was a low rumble, like thunder on the horizon. He pulled you close again, his lips brushing your ear softly.

"You play with fire... Mi pequeño."

His voice was a whisper now, his breath warm against your skin.

"And one day, that fire will burn you."

He released you then, stepping back with a harsh exhale. His eyes were stormy, his features set in a hard line. Miguel stared at you for a moment, as if he could read your thoughts, as if he could feel your fear ── Finally, he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"If I ever hear of another man touching you like that again... I will end him." He muttered, downing a large gulp of his drink before setting the bottle down on the table. You watched him leave, the loud footsteps on the raw cement floor were enough to tell you that he was angry. The rest of the party was strange, you felt tio Miguel's eyes on you, even though the atmosphere was pleasant for the other participants in your family, everything had gotten worse after the confrontation you had with the man ── you thought about telling about your uncle's strange behavior towards your father, but you knew it wouldn't help, they would just defend Miguel and say that you were exaggerating... But you felt like you weren't.

You went to your room, while you saw the tall man's shadow in the hallway, bumping into the walls because he was too drunk to think or stand on his feet ── you saw him leaning on your door frame, while you asked calmly if he needed some help. Miguel's eyes met his, his vision slightly blurred from the alcohol he had consumed. He licked his lips, his gaze roaming your body hungrily, but he didn't act, only a sob and a sad laugh left his lips, while he showed his white canines.

"You are mi ninõ. You always have been and always will be... There is no escaping your destiny."

He babbled, his words filled with drink, but he was serious, like he had never spoken before, you could see a mix of dark emotions that burned in his brown orbits, each word, no matter how slurred it was, carried a clear truth that could not be said aloud by several taboos.

His hands reached out, gripping your arms tightly. His fingers dug into your flesh, leaving small red marks.

"Don't forget this... You would never lie to your Uncle right? I will protect you... Incluso si es de ti mismo."

He leaned closer, his breathing heavy and laced with the smell of whiskey.

"But I will also punish you if you disobey me."

He let go of you then, frowning as he looked at the marks he had left on your arms.

"Go to bed now."

He mumbled, turning away from you and stumbling towards the door.

"Sleep well, my precious boy."

His voice was filled with alcohol, spite and a twisted desire ── the latter making his gaze linger on you for a moment longer, as he staggered out, ignoring everything and everyone around him, you tried to ignore the burning in your stomach, a mixture of fear and a bittersweet heat near your stomach, you were maybe just very tired... Right? You pushed away the thoughts that consumed your mind, trying to grab the fog of sleep that you tried to achieve, you hoped for a good day... But little did you know what fateful destiny had planned.

You woke up to your parents cleaning the house, it was a hot and irritating Sunday, you woke up sweaty and to the loud sounds of rooms being dragged from one place to another ── you really didn't want to be there, so your father told you to go to your uncle Miguel's house, even though you insisted on saying the opposite, that you could handle the chaos at home and help them, but your parent just repeated the phrase and sent you to keep O'Hara company at his house.

Everything would be better than facing him again.

You wore your most comfortable and cool dress for that sultry summer day ── your breasts bounced and you felt the coolness of the wind blowing beneath your legs, reaching your thighs and panties, an adorable boy, on the way to the wolf's house.

Walking under the sun until you saw Miguel's house in a rural area and away from the common neighborhood, you called his name, soon seeing the man come completely sweaty and shirtless, still wearing the same pants from yesterday, while drying his sweat of his brow, letting you into his comfort.

"Fine."

He grumbled, he turned around, taking you home without saying another word. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

As you entered the house, you noticed a slight disorder. Miguel's usually immaculate house really needed some cleaning. He gestured for you to sit on the couch.

"Your father said you were coming..." He sighed with a hand on his hips as he looked at you steadily. "That's good, now we can continue our conversation from yesterday, okay? I want the truth my boy, give me your cell phone, unlocked... After all, you have nothing to hide from me right... You and Hobbie are just good friends... Right?" His voice carried that threatening and authoritarian tone again, you stuttered but when you saw your uncle's look you swallowed hard and accepted your fate, obviously you had spicy messages on your cell phone, but what could you do? Running unfortunately wasn't an option, neither was screaming, you were trapped in a spider's web, and in the possessive man's judgmental gaze.

"Now. Give it to me. Or else you know what I'm capable of."

He repeated as you handed him the electronic device ─ and it didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for... Miguel's eyes narrowed as he flipped through the messages on his phone. His grip tightened around the device, his knuckles turning white. A mixture of anger, jealousy and hurt crossed his face as he read the explicit messages and saw the intimate photos, you were really with that boy... You were doing everything behind his back.

"How dare you show your body to that piece of shit!"

His voice was laced with bitterness and disappointment. He threw the phone onto the table, the screen cracking on impact.

"Do you think you can send nudes to some random boy and get away with it?"

He took a step towards you, his expression darkening.

"Did he make you wet? Did he make you excited?" His words came out like venom, his hand shot out, grabbing your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him. Miguel's grip on his chin tightened, his fingers digging into his flesh. His angry eyes fixed on his, his expression filled with a mixture of possessiveness and pain.

"I expected everything... Except that, I'm tired, tired of just being seen as your fucking uncle... I can give you so much more than that boy ever could. I can make you scream, make you beg for more. But you need to understand that you are mine."

His voice was filled with a desperate need, a desire that was both warm and terrifying. He pressed his body against his, his erection evident through his jeans. You tried to protest again, in vain, you just felt O'Hara's thick lips on yours, it was strong, his tongue dominating his as he held you tightly. His hand guided your trembling hand to his hard, throbbing erection, pressing it against the fabric of his pants. He let out a low growl of pleasure, the sound vibrating against your lips.

"You always make me hard on boy... So fucking hard." He continued kissing you fiercely, your free hand moving to grip his waist, his fingers digging into your flesh. He pressed your body against his again, now the bulge of his pants rubbing against your thigh. The intensity of his touch and the raw desire in his eyes made your own body respond, despite the fear and confusion, it was so wrong, but it felt right at the same time.

"Do you think you can show yourself like that to anyone? Do you think there will be no consequences?"

He pushed you back, guiding you towards the couch again ─ his hands exploring your body with a hunger that bordered on desperation.

"Strip for me, baby boy. Show me that body you dared to share with someone else. Show me what only I should see."

His voice was commanding, his eyes burning of lust and anger. He watched as you hesitantly complied, removing your clothes piece by piece, revealing your naked form to him ── your dress was discarded somewhere in the room, your breasts bounced while your nipples became hard from contact with the air, your pussy was already wet, a simple kiss had done that to you.

He looks at you with admiration... All of that was for him, a banquet of the gods, he wasn't going to leave you in punishment, no matter how angelic you were, he was going to reduce you to a dumb and beautiful mess, totally broken for him.

"Look at you... So eager to please, so desperate for my touch. Did just one kiss from does your uncle get you this wet?"

A smile played at the corners of his lips as he took hold of his cell phone, opening the camera app with a sinister glint in his eyes.

"Well, since you were so willing to show yourself to that boy, I think it's only fair that I capture this moment. Don't you agree, my precious angelito?"

He positioned himself in front of you, his cock springing free from his pants. The sight of his naked arousal feels a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. He pulled you down to your knees, his grip firm on the back of your head.

"Suck it," he commanded "Let the world see what a slut you've become."

You hesitated for a moment, the gravity of the situation sinking in. But the thought of defying him only fueled his anger further. With a mixture of trepidation and submission, you wrapped your lips around his throbbing length, your tongue swirling around his head. He groaned, his grip tightening in his hair as he began recording your submissive act.

"You look so fucking beautiful with my cock in your mouth. Such a good boy, taking it all in."

He continued to record, capturing each salacious moment as you eagerly pleasured him. The taste of his cock and the sound of his moans filled your senses, heightening your own pleasure. Your body responded, the tingling warmth between your legs growing more intense with each passing moment.

"No one else gets to taste you like this. You're my slutty boy, and I'm going to make sure everyone knows it."

He spoke as the fat and hot tip of his member hit your throat repeatedly, making you choke and connect your nose with his groin, the lack of air making you momentarily see stars as he let you breathe again.

As Miguel reached his climax, he grunted and released a hot jet of cum into your mouth. He groaned with satisfaction, feeling the pulsing sensation as he emptied himself into your mouth. The taste of his essence filled your senses, mixed with the bitter-sweet humiliation of the situation. Once he had finished, he withdrew his dick from your mouth, his grip firm on your face. He forced you to open your mouth wide, showing your dirty tongue, coated with his cum, to the camera. The sadistic glint in his eyes only intensified as he instructed you to swallow it all.

You obediently complied, gulping down his cum, heavy tears ran down your body, while his thumb pulled your cheek to show him even more of your oral cavity.

"Look at the camera....You look like a damn porn star... A filthy, little porn star."

You barely had time to react, then the man trapped you beneath him again ─ his thighs separated yours, while he looked at your cunt milking the air with so much excitement, making him laugh mockingly and dominantly ─ without prior warning, his thick cock entered your wet pussy, stretching you to your limits and causing a mixture of pain and pleasure to surge through your body. Your legs were draped over his shoulders, granting him unrestricted access to your most intimate parts.

As he thrust into you, Miguel focused the camera on your tear-streaked face, capturing every moment of your vulnerability and submission.

You were a mess of conflicting emotions, a beautiful sight to him as he reveled in his dominance over you, The desire makes you delirious, completely erasing your sense of right and wrong ── soon you find yourself thrusting your hips onto his cock, whimpering pathetically as you moan his name.

"Mmm, you're such a buen chico para mí.. such a good and beautiful pussy... You hid it from me for so long... But you showed it so easily to that bastard... You disappoint your uncle sometimes, boy."

His hand left the camera momentarily, his fingers finding your clit, caressing it in a way that made your moans intensify, he watched your reactions closely, moaning with lips parted, as he looked directly into your teary eyes.

"See, I knew you'd love this, aren't you? Oh, sí... Mierda- Eres tan apretado chico".

Then, with the peaks of moans and pounding of flesh on flesh, his grunts grew louder and more primal as he climaxed. With one final thrust, he released his hot sperm deep inside your pulsating pussy, filling you with his essence. When he pulled out, the camera captured the evidence of your intimate connection, showing the mixture of his cum and your own juices. Your pussy clenched and milked the air, aching for more even after he finished.

"You've taken all of my cum... Un buen chico para tu tio."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction mixed with a tinge of shame as you watched your body respond to his touch.

He smiles at the video on his cell phone, while looking at you with a dangerous glare.

"Now you're going to be a good putito... After all, you don't want this to leak out to our family, do you?"

You had no choice, and maybe you didn't even want to... Miguel had broken you, as he always wanted, you were his now, only his.

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fraugwinska · 28 days

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Okay but can you do an Al that quite likes to be put in his place by the reader behind closed doors? Can be sfw or NSFW, your choice. Radio Demon deserves to let off some steam losing control. 😏

Oh, what a fun ask that was - I approached it the best way I could, and I for one love it :D My gift to you and everyone who wants to! Attention: This is not mild, it's getting ✨spicy✨! ;>

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hard Day

There were three telltale signs.

Alastor had come home from another meeting of the overlords. He greeted Charlie and the others with his usual smile and the obligatory mocking quip at Angels playful flirtations. But what others didn't see was blatantly obvious to you.

One: His left eye twitched constantly.

Niffty and you were on dinner duty that evening, so the kitchen was, despite your best efforts to tidy up behind her, a raging mess of pots, chopped ingredients and various spots of sauces and suspect fluids. When Alastor came in to get himself a cup of coffee and saw the mess, he excessively scolded the poor girl for being unnecessarily messy.

Two: Losing his patience with Niffty.

After dinner, you and him would routinely join Husk at the bar, you for a digestif, him to get into 'entertaining' banter with the cat demon, who'd pour him a glass of whiskey or two while they'd bicker. Today, he stayed quiet, just played an experimental jazz song from his cane, and when Husk reached for the bottle of rye, Alastor shook his head.

Three: Arhythmical tapping of his claws on the barcounter.

You downed your drink and exclaimed loudly that you were tired. Like a routine, Husk grinned as he took you glass back, turned away to give Alastor the cue to shoot you that look, and the deer followed you silently, taking the invitingly open hand of yours when you were out of sight.

You beelined straight to your room - not his, that was his domain, his kingdom where he could rule over you - the wrong place for tonight.

You lead him through the door, letting go of his hand and locking it behind you. When you turned, he had already loosened his tie, throwing it on the ground with a frustrated huff, brows furrowed and gums showing from the tightness of his snarl.

“Hard day.” You don't ask: you state; and he paced through your room, struggling. You knew the drill, you waited, patiently, neutral. You knew how hard it was for him to overcome his desire to control, to willingly give it up, but also, how much he needed it in these moments.

Finally, he came to rest his head on your shoulder, forehead pressed in the crook of your neck.

“Please.”, he whispered, the voice filter completely gone. The go point. You smiled.

“Sit.”

You followed him to your bed, where he did as he was told. Sitting down on the edge, ears pressed against his head, gaze fixed on the carpet.

You unbuttoned his coat, pushing it off his shoulders and away from him. Then the vest, then his shirt. The silence only disturbed by occasional fizzing of his static, a hint of his inner turmoil of letting you take the lead.

You ignored it, throwing the discarded clothes on a chair nearby. You placed your hands on each of his shoulders, and leaned in. Hungrily, he took your lips, his tongue slid out, licking over them to demand entrance - you stopped, face neutral.

“No.”, you said, not harsh, but firm.

“No.”, he repeated, sighing.

As you returned to his mouth, you let your hands wander, over his collarbone, smooth and grayish, fading into soft, red fur on his chest and onto his back - firm, tense, rigid.

He didn't attempt another grab for power, although you knew his body wanted to. His claws dug into the mattress, as if to prevent them from grabbing your flesh. He was shaking.

You knelt down before him, hands already on the buttons of his trousers. Your steady eyes stayed glued on his burning ones. He took a sharp breath when you stroked his freed, already hard member, a slow, soft, explorative stroke. He closed his eyes.

“No.”, you said again, and he opened them immediately, irises shifting to dials and back. “Eyes on me, my buck.”

The pet name made him shiver, a low groan escaped his throat. Your lips twitched with a smile - moments like these made you feel so immensely happy, to be the one the big bad Radio Demon was submitting to, letting him be weak before you.

With a hum, you took him in your mouth, sliding your lips down his shaft as far as you could. He answered with a moan, deliberate and desperate. His head fell back, you heard your sheets ripping from his tightening grip. Up and down, with your tongue swirling over his reddened tip at every stroke, you sucked him into frenzied panting.

His right hand lifted, reached for your hair, intended to grip it, to guide you on his cock, but you caught him on his wrist, popping him out of you with harsh coldness.

“Ah ah ah.”, you tutted, tilting your head at him. He looked almost manic at this point. “Only good boys are allowed to cum. And you want to cum, my buck, don't you?”

Alastor growled, but it sounded more like a whine.

“I can't hear you.”, you teased with a single stroke of your hand on his throbbing member.

“Yes.”

“Good. Then behave.”

He did. His moans and growls became more heated, loud and frantic as he let himself unravel inside your mouth. You felt him tremble, his thighs you gripped shaking under your fingers.

“Darling…”

You hummed, not relenting, keeping your pace. You knew what he wanted, what he needed, but he had to ask first.

“Darling… may I… “, he was gritting his teeth, beads of sweat on his temples and his grin on the verge of breaking. It was enough.

“Cum.” was all that you said, in the mere second your lips were breaking contact to his tip - it was all he needed. A heartbeat later, he came, violently, securely, in the safe and warm enclosure of your throat. You drank him up, swallowed two times so not to spill any of his precious seed, feeling him twitch inside and pant before you.

He pulled you up to him, onto his chest, and you let him - handing him the power back like a baton. He kissed you forcefully, his first instinct to reassure he was back in control, to return you to submission again - you smiled at that thought. He embraced you, tenderly, pressing you into him like a soft pillow, and took a long, content breath.

“Hard day.” he said, stroking your hair as you closed your eyes, relieved to hear his heart beat steady once more.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel niffty #quick fic #hazbin smut #hazbin hotel x reader

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tightjeansjavi · 1 year

Text

𝑺𝒘𝒊𝒑𝒆 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒓𝒅

Sex Escapades With Agent Peña

(Javi Peña x f!reader) NSFW🔞

A/N: and so the sex escapades with Javi P begin! 🥵

Summary: a lazy Sunday morning with your boyfriend Javi Peña ends up with you using his face as your personal seat.

~word count: 2.0k~

Warnings: smut with no plot, established relationship, work relationship, oral receiving (female) face sitting, cum eating, teasing, edging, dirty talk, praise kink, consent, Javi Peña really loves eating pussy. (+18) minors dni !

Lazy Sunday mornings with your boyfriend, Javi Peña, were your absolute favorite. It was the one day out of the entire week where he was all yours. No interruptions, no Escobar, no incessant calls from Murphy. Just you, and Javi, secluded from the outside world in your cozy apartment.

You had been secretly, yet not so secretly dating Javi for 6 months now. You worked at the US Embassy in Colombia as a receptionist. How did you cross paths with Agent Peña exactly? Well, he needed an important document taken care of and you were working the late hours. All it took was for him to make a comment about your nail polish looking pretty, and for him to look at you with those deep brown eyes, and you caved instantly.

So, maybe you also fantasized about the DEA agent on a daily basis. He’d stride in, wearing another unnecessarily tight shirt, wearing his classic aviators. He was absolutely a tall glass of water that you were begging to get a taste of.

Now? You could have him whenever, wherever, and however you’d want him. Javi lived for pleasing you. You connected on various different topics but what really drove it home for you, was how passionate of a lover Javi Peña was.

No details went unnoticed by him, especially in the bedroom. You had no idea just how many times you were capable of cumming from under a man’s tongue, till he stepped into your life. He loved lapping at your pussy, drinking in your moans and mewls that he elicited from you with his skillful tongue. Your nails would be scraping his hair, leaving scratches on his scalp, as you would desperately try to clench your legs around his head when the euphoric tingling would become too much. He’d whispered against your ruined cunt, “patience, cariño. I’m not finished with you yet, pretty girl.” he’d let out a low hum, knowing how his voice would vibrate deliciously up your core.

Your boyfriend knew how to ruin you in many different ways and he never left you feeling unsatisfied. It was about your pleasure above his. It was the sexiest fucking thing, to have a man that practically worshipped the ground you walked on.

On this particular Sunday, you were comfortably lying between his tan, bare, muscular thighs. Neither of you were shy to be naked in front of each other in the slightest. You had reached a level of intimacy that you never dreamed you would find with anyone. His chest was pressed firmly against your back, and the familiar scent of his cologne, musk, and cigarette smoke wafted through your nose. Javi always had a cigarette pursed between his lips.

His softened cock, was resting comfortably along the top of his thigh, the rigid head was dribbled with precum and all you would have to do is lean over and drag your tongue along him, and lap up the musky residue from his skin. You were painfully aware of how close his fingertips were to your inner thigh, flexing against the soft, plush skin.

His free hand was clutched around a book, one that you had lended to him. You both knew that he wouldn’t make it through a page, let alone a chapter, just by the way his fingers slowly inched closer to your pussy.

“What’re you thinking about cariño? My pretty girl.”

You let out a low hum, glancing up at him through your lashes, as you lifted your hand from his thigh and brought it to his jaw, dragging your fingers along the stubble on his chin.

“Mmm..you really want to know?” Your thighs had spread open at the slightest, on impulse as if his fingers alone had coaxed them open from the slightest touch.

“I could always guess. I’m rather good at that, wouldn’t you say? Know exactly what’s going on in that pretty little mind of yours baby.” he tapped his fingers along the apex of your inner thigh, nudging them open more.

“I think I have you beat this time Javi.” You let out a soft sigh, sinking back against his chest, letting your body, mind and soul, relax against his broad frame.

“Oh? Is that so? Well, we’ll just have to see about that baby. So, you don’t want me to touch you then?” He plucked his dying cigarette from between his lips, tapping it down on the ashtray on the nightstand alongside your bed, along with the book, before he brought his arm around your waist, gently easing your body up into a sitting position. He used his thighs as leverage to spread you open more, and rested his chin along the side of your shoulder.

“Oh no, I do want you to touch me, please baby. I want to do something else though. Something that I think you and I would really fucking enjoy.” You turned your head towards him, easily capturing his lips between yours. You kissed him languidly, feeling his broad nose bump into yours as he inhaled, breathing hot air down your throat, as his tongue slipped between your lips, teeth clashing.

“Mmm. What did you have in mind this time, cariño? Lay it all on me, baby. I’m all ears.” He mumbled against your lips, taking your lower lip between his teeth, biting down as he tugged it out before releasing it.

“I want to sit on your face baby.” You confessed, and grabbed his hand that was still wrapped around your thigh, and placed it over your aching cunt. You both took a shuttered breath as his broad fingers slowly dragged through your slick folds. You were dripping for him. The slick walls of your pussy were already clenching around air, and he had barely touched you.

“You wanna sit on my face princesa? Never thought you’d ask. Mmm, look at you baby, spread wide for me, dripping already. You’re absolutely filthy cariño. absolutamente sucio para mí niña bonita.”(absolutely filthy for me pretty girl)

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, baby. It’s all for you. Always for you.” You mewled as his fingers dragged through your arousal, circling around your clit as your jaw went slack.

“I know, my pretty girl. Always so good for me. Want me to play with you first? I know how much you love when I play with your pretty little pussy, cariño. How’s it feel? Feels good?..that’s it..” He praised you, letting his lips drag from your lips, down your chin, nipping at your skin lightly.

Javier Peña was 100% a biter, and you loved it.

“Feels so nice baby..so good..” You sighed softly, your lashes fluttering shut.

“So good for me baby, so good.” He cooed.

When Javi’s teasing became too much, too overwhelming, and had your mind spinning, you turned around in his lap, your hands finding purchase around his thick thighs as you straddled his hips. He was already grabbing a handful of your ass, kneading the plump flesh between his greedy hands, bringing one hand down against your left cheek with a harsh smack.

“You ready to take your seat, cariño? Can’t wait to taste you, baby. I want to feel you dripping down my chin baby. You think you can do that for me?”

“I can do that for you. Yes, please baby.” You used his thighs as leverage as he laid his back against the pillows.

“I know you can. Can’t wait to absolutely be suffocated by your sweet pussy and thighs baby.”

He caught your lips in a chaste kiss, your tongues tangling together momentarily as he easily pulled you up his chest, breaking the kiss away to spread your thighs apart as you settled yourself over his face, only the top of his dark brown curls could be seen.

You could feel his hot breath fanning your core, causing a tingle to creep up your spine. His blunt nails dug deliciously into the purchase of your thighs, as his nose bumped against your clit, eliciting a whine from the cavern of your throat.

“Going to have you screaming my name soon, baby. Gonna fucking drink you dry. Want to feel your thighs trembling around me.” His voice was muffled against your hot skin.

His tongue dove into you, licking a hot stripe up your core as he lapped your pussy. He started with slow, methodical strokes. You writhed above him, bringing one hand down into his hair, gripping the tendrils tightly between your manicured nails. Your other hand was gripped onto the headboard, knuckles stark white as he swirled his tongue around your clit, wrapping his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

He sucked harshly, feeling your thighs begin to tremble. He was absolutely devouring you, like you were his last meal. Javier Peña loved nothing more than having his face buried deep in your pussy, tongue lapping up your sweet juices that were elicited by his sinful mouth.

You were a mess above him, feeling your thighs clench in around his head as you started to grind your hips into his face, desperately wanting more as you chased your impending orgasm. You were panting out his name mixed with a slew of curses. “Fuck—fuck Javi! I—I’m so close, baby. Please please don’t stop!” You whined.

“I’ve got you princesa. You taste so fucking sweet baby, and all for me. C’mon. Keep riding my face, just like that cariño. Doing so good for me. So fucking good.”

He squeezed your thighs, urging you on as you continued to grind your hips into his face. His broad, firm nose continuously bumped into your sensitive clit, over and over again.

Javi. Javi. Javi.

When your impending orgasm finally hit you, the air felt like it was being knocked out of your lungs, stolen from your body as you screamed his name. Your entire body shuddered above him. Thighs quivering and clenching around his head. Your eyes rolled back, lips parted open as your head dropped between your shoulders.

You caught a glimpse of Javi’s darkened pupils looking up at you. Even as you came down from your high, catching your breath, his tongue continued to lap you up. He couldn’t get enough of your sweet pussy on his taste buds. It was like a fucking drug. Sweetest fucking thing he ever tasted.

You were desperately trying to push his head away, feeling spent and overly sensitive. “Javi, baby. I can’t. Please, no more. I’m—”

“Shhh…you’re okay baby. I got you. You’re okay cariño.”

He pressed a soft, feather light kiss to your clit before he gently eased you off his face, his chin, mustache and nose were coated in your juices. His face was absolutely glistening and slick with you.

He cradled you against his chest, gently stroking your hair, patting it down as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. Your thighs found their home around his hips, hugging yourself tightly to him. He loved that your thighs had continued to tremble around him.

“You did so well for me baby. Always such a good girl for me. Did you enjoy yourself?” He spoke softly, his lips still gently pressed to your temple, tasting the salt from your sweaty skin.

“Yes, baby. Told you it would be an enjoyable experience for both of us.”

“Anytime you wanna sit on my face like that, you just let me know, okay princesa?”

“You loved it that much?”

“Loved every fucking second of it baby.”

You nuzzled your cheek into his chest closing your eyes as he continued to sweet talk you. As soon as your body had relaxed, he gently lifted you from the bed, carrying you to the bathroom where he proceeded to run you a relaxing bath. He joined you of course, holding you between his thighs once more as he gently washed your body. The rest of the afternoon was filled with napping, cooking together, and simply enjoying one another’s company. Thank god for lazy Sundays, and thank god for Javier Peña’s pussy eating skills.

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facefullofsadness · 3 months

Note

Can I ask Dom!jealous!Kazuha, insult the reader because the reader hugs someone else?

content - jealous dom!kazuha x reader, smut (forceful aggressive sex, degradation, biting, fingering, sadistic themes), mentions of aespa winter, OVERLY POSSESSIVE KAZUHA, zuha's like actually mean and insults you :((, fluff at the end

wc - 1444

a/n - maybe too harsh? realizing after writing it's a little (pretty) aggressive... but it's fineeee, wk kazuha's a sweetheart!

it's not that kazuha DOESN'T trust you.

but it's moreso that she's just possessive! seeing you hangout with winter a lil more than usual these days rubs her the wrong way. it gradually boils her blood, knowing you were friends with minjeong before you even met zuha. she's just worried she might lose her precious gf!

it comes to a breaking point when you come home late one night. you panicked, you were supposed to be home an hour ago but couldn't tell ur gf because your phone died! and you were out late bc traffic at this hour was insane, so as best as minjeong tried to drop you off at home, it was hard to do so.

eventually, you both made it to your place. minjeong walked you to your door as you fumbled with your keys. it swung open before you could even put the right key into the door, a grumpy kazuha behind it. you and minjeong both sighing in relief to see that she was home already.

jeongie would excuse herself, but wouldn't be able to leave first without you pulling her into a tight hug, rubbing her back and thanking her repeatedly for her help. the sight made zuha's blood pressure skyrocket, the words you said processing in her mind maliciously. before you could even pull away completely from your best friend, ur gf calls for you to come in immediately, scowling at your short haired bestie.

you apologize and shrug, thanking minjeong again before entering your home, kazuha slamming the door behind you once you're inside.

"why the fuck were you late y/n?" her voice filled with authority.

her tone shocked you and you scoffed, "why do you sound like my mom? geez..."

this angered her already angry self, dragging you by the wrist and shoving you onto your couch. she climbed on top of your hips, straddling you and trapping your body under her.

"answer the fucking question. or are you too braindead to process it?"

kazuha didn't wanna be so mean to you, but she couldn't help herself. hearing the words leave her mouth, she knew it was wrong and she definitely was gonna apologize later. but right now, you were appalled by her behavior, it hurt you and you raised your voice back at her.

"what the fuck is wrong with you, zuha?! what are you ACTUALLY saying to me right now?"

"oh shit, are you deaf too? do your ears work? because apparently I didn't make myself clear."

you're gobsmacked. how could you not be? your usually sweet and gentle girlfriend was insulting you, being unnecessarily mean. you feel your mouth fall open at her words, in genuine shock as you prop yourself up on your elbows to face her. her jaw was clenching and you could see her temples throb, eyebrows furrowed as her hands gripped your shoulders.

"are you too much of a dumb whore not to process a simple question? just a bimbo, aren't you y/n?"

it wasn't funny, it was painful.

your hands shot up and clenched the material of her shirt's collar, "who are you right now, nakamura kazuha?"

you watch as her eyes darken and face changes, her pushing you to lay flat against the sofa, "the person that you belong to."

with that, she tears your hands off of her and rips your jacket and shirt off. she's quick, scurrying to remove your clothes. you feel your throat form a lump and your eyes water. you didn't like how she was treating you right now, kazuha wasn't herself, and you were gonna suffer because of it. she left you exposed in only your dark-colored lacy set lingerie, a bitter expression on her face.

"how badly do you wanna fuck kim minjeong, huh? why her and not me? why don't you love me anymore?"

her question confuses you and clashes in your mind, thoughts thrashing in your head of how much she was hurting you and how harshly she was treating you. her touches were aggressive, gripping and scratching at your body, her mouth biting all over you. you whimper out in pain and squirm under her, trying to push her away and get her to calm down.

"what do you mean zuha? of course I love you! who said I wanted to fuck minjeong?"

she ignores you, mouth nipping at your neck, down your chest, across your stomach, and through your thin underwear.

"you're mine y/n! no one else's! only mine!" she digs her nails into your hips before dragging your panties down to your ankles.

a pained expression crawls onto your face the more she proceeds. you feel her spit onto your entrance, her fingertips rolling to cover her digits in it. you bite your lip as kazuha forces the length of her fingers into your cunt, ramming them in and out of you at high speed, eliciting a scream to erupt from your choked throat.

"zuha please!" you sob, your hands gripping at the material of her clothes as she hovers above you.

she shoots her free hand to cup your cheek, using her thumb to pry your mouth open and putting her finger in, expecting you to suck on it. your gf coos when you do, sniffling as you swirl your tongue around her.

"is it that I have to force you into submission for you to listen? are you that much of a slut?"

you clamp your eyes shut, feeling tears roll down the sides of your face. despite all the emotional turmoil, you couldn't deny how well kazuha memorized your body, hitting spots inside of you that made your back arch and having her thumb in your mouth making your hands form fists.

her words hurt, but her fingers hurt better.

your eyes flutter open, vision blurry from your tears. the loud squelching of her digits ramming into you was all you heard. her intense gaze demanded your weak one, but you obliged, looking into her eyes, her stare wild. fire roared furiously in the kind and brown eyes you once fell for, but now you couldn't recognize who this was. she looked at you like a predator hunted prey, like you were food to fuel her, your eyebrows furrowed and tears running down your face. you looked perfect like this.

this is what I want. you to be ruined by only me. you to be only mine.

"fuck!" you moaned, back arching into her, feeling you get closer to the edge.

your hole clenched around her, zuha's fingers constantly hitting your g-spot repeatedly. your fists pulled your gf in closer and you popped her thumb out of your mouth, burying your face into her shoulder and screaming as you came. hips bucking wildly against kazuha's hand and sobs ripping from your mouth as pleasure overwhelmed you. her fingers stopped pummeling in you when your body relaxed onto the couch, pulling her hand away and cleaning it with her mouth.

kazuha blinked a few times and her sanity returned, immense guilt filling her body when she looked down at your limp figure, your arm covering your face as you silently cried. her heart dropped at the sight and chest tightened, bringing her hands gently up to caress your cheeks.

"m-my love, I... I don't know what came over me, I'm so sorry..."

you heard your girlfriend again, the version of your gf that you actually knew, her sweet voice apologizing to you. she pulled your arm from your face and you opened your eyes to meet the gentle brown ones you missed and you cried harder.

"kazuha, if you hate minjeong that much, just tell me! what's wrong with you?" your voice was weak and you felt broken.

she didn't like the way she acted and she knew you hated it even more.

"you're right, I'm so so so sorry y/n, I got too jealous and possessive because god, I'd rather die than lose you. you didn't deserve how I took it out on you," she whispers against your ear and plants kisses along your jaw.

she pulled you closely into her arms, holding you like you were the most prized possession in her world.

there was some work to do (like therapy goddamn), but you knew your girlfriend, she was better than this, and she was gonna prove it to you, so you accepted her apology.

sniffling your sobs into her shoulder, you laughed, "you owe me."

"I know I do, I promise you darling, I will."

you pull away from her and rest your forehead against her's, "you can start by getting me ice cream."

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lingerina · 7 months

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀KINKTOBER ⠀//⠀day one

➤ PROMPT hate sex ➤ 1.1k words ➤ g!p student giselle x TA fem!reader ➤ brief noncon, college!au, slight degradation, creampie, squirting. ➤ aeri learns that money can’t buy everyone.

If there’s anything worse than a teacher’s pet, it’s a teacher’s assistant.

She has made enemies with all of her studious peers. Her mildly mischievous antics would land her in various teachers’ classrooms for a ten-minute lecture on ethics and morals before she gets dismissed with a mere slap on the wrist. Money buys everything, so her family wealth often saves her from suffering the consequences.

Except money couldn’t buy you.

Though you are a teacher’s assistant, you’re close to Aeri’s age. Most people who aren’t in the same tax bracket as her family statistically struggle with earning enough to live so not only is she shocked when you refuse her cash. She’s furious that you actually report her behavior, which will now show up on her clean records.

Even the threat of using her wealth to destroy you didn’t deter you from following through with your report.

Aeri always gets away with being a troublemaker, especially when joined by her small posse to wreak havoc on the “peasants” (as they call their peers). Being enabled by an equally mischievous crowd and never being told “no” by her overly doting parents culminated into unhealthy coping with negative emotions.

Because there’s only one way for her to release anger.

A bated breath escapes your kiss-swollen lips as Aeri’s cock plunges into you with ease, courtesy of your ample wetness from the student’s fingers.

What started off as an exchange of rather colorful words and heated arguments turned into you being shoved against your desk and violated by a troublemaking student who couldn’t accept that she can’t always get her way. It turned into buttons flying to the floor with loud clacks and fabric ripping as she tore your leggings open at your crotch, humiliating you and marking you while holding you down.

You briefly fought back, but your body melts at the brush of lips on your neck. As soon as kisses make contact with your skin, all you want is more. More.

Even if they are a pain in the ass.

“Fuck you,” Aeri hisses as she draws her cock out, “for ruining my record.”

You moan shamelessly when she slams back into you, uncaring of the people passing by outside the classroom possibly hearing you.

She’s massive, barely letting you adjust to the girth that’s stretching out your tight and needy pussy. The lewd view of you on your desk, shirt forced open and exposing your tits, your leggings partially destroyed and dampened around the crotch, your legs fixed upwards against your chest, fuels her urge to fuck you senseless.

And so she does.

She fucks her typically poised TA with rigor. She fucks her unnecessarily strict and cold TA with anger, the obscene squelches of your dripping cunt bearing with the abuse of her cock echoing through the empty classroom. Your breathy moans and pathetic pleas surge her already inflated ego through the roof, and her eyes become fixed on you.

She observes the pleasure (and pain) etched on your face: the crease between your brows, your eyes shutting tightly, the occasional clenching of your jaw, and your mouth hanging open when she fucks you harder. It is now engraved in her memory.

“Not so strong now, are you?,” she taunts, her nails digging into the back of your thighs as she tightens her grip.

Your thoughts have been fucked out of you long ago. You can barely control yourself as she drives into you without care, but that lack of care is what’s making you hungry for more. The roughness, the belittling, and the humiliation is what’s keeping you dripping all over the girl’s cock.

All over your desk.

Aeri’s pace becomes less calculated. She manages to remain quick with her thrusts as you tighten around her, suctioning her in. She’s noisier, grunts and hitched breaths making her less wordy. She tests your flexibility at this point, forcing your thighs all up against your naked chest as she mutters about being close.

Your back arches off the desk as she bottoms out and finishes inside you.

“Such good pussy,” she mumbles as she drags her slick-coated cock out.

She shoves back in with full force, shifting your body upwards on your desk from the impact and grins when you shudder and whine. “That’s it. Take it all in, bitch.”

She repeats the process, each thrust pushing her release deeper inside you. “Take in all my cum like the little whore you are.”

She slowly pulls out her softened cock, the only time she’s ever gentle with you. Her cum oozes out a second later, flooding the surface beneath you. As it drips to the floor, she draws two fingers up your slit and plugs them in your cunt.

She may have finished first, but she’s determined to finish you too.

She works her magic. With the proper angle and a good wrist, it requires no effort for you to reach your high. Her thumb swiping over your engorged clit with each pump is what ends it all. You grab at the edge of your desk, your eyes rolling back as you spill all over her hand. Your leggings are soiled further, and Aeri is thriving from how ruined you are. How you’re so wet and sensitive and squirting even more as she pushes you past your brink.

You sink back onto your desk, exhausted, after she removes her fingers. While you need a minute to yourself, Aeri has already slipped back into her trousers and gathered her belongings. She shuffles towards the door while checking the time on her phone, but stops and looks back at you over her shoulder.

“I expect that citation to be gone by tomorrow.”

She clicks her tongue with a wink, and leaves you sprawled on your desk—half naked, ruined, and full of cum.

Because there’s only one way for her to release anger.

And that is inside you.

#girl group smut #aespa smut #giselle smut #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #first day of kinktober has commenced! 🎉

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familyvideostevie · 2 years

Text

crystal clear

Steve has been keeping something from you but it's not what you expect | 1.2k, fluff, fem!reader, thank you to ace for encouraging me on this one! one of my fave headcanons is steve needing glasses, so here we are.

"Christ," Steve mutters, pacing around his room. He keeps picking up things and putting them down, running his hands through his hair. "Shit." You sit on his bed, waiting for him to tell you what's wrong.

"Baby," he says, reluctantly, "have you seen my glasses?" He's not looking at you as he says it, so he can't see your eyebrows shoot up.

"I'm sorry, your what?"

"Are your ears clogged or something?" he says lightly. As if he could stop you from asking questions.

"Steve," you say, getting off the bed and walking to where he stands searching his desk. "Your what?" He sighs and finally looks at you, wrinkling his nose.

"Don't be mean," he groans. "My glasses. I'm getting a headache, should put 'em on." He rubs a hand down his face and you can see the tension in his jaw.

"You are impossible," you chide. You brush your fingers over his temple as if you could take whatever pain he's feeling from him. "Let me help look. But you have to tell me what I'm looking for since I've never seen them before." You flick his nose gently. He rolls his eyes at you but smiles and leans down to press a quick kiss to your mouth.

"Brown leather case," he says. "Check the car, maybe? Keys are in my pocket." You dip your fingers into the back of his jeans, palm unnecessarily spread as you maintain eye contact. His cheek twitches and he fights a smirk as you make a show of digging for the keys before pulling them out and twirling them around your thumb.

"Handsy," Steve says. "Eyes on the prize, baby. Get it?"

"You're hilarious, Harrington," you deadpan before heading downstairs to his car. His pain can't be that bad if he's still making horrible puns, but you want to keep it that way. The BMW sits in the drive and you pull open the driver's side door and look around the interior. Scuff marks from your shoes, a soda stain from Dustin that you took the blame for, one of Robin's hair clips. You bend a little to get closer to the mats and that's when you see it: a brown leather case trapped under the passenger seat. You fish it out and pop it open to find a simple pair of silver wire frames, one lens thicker than the other. Steve often tells you that his brains have been so scrambled he could be on a diner menu, but you really didn't know it had affected his vision. Sometimes he gets headaches, sure, but usually he just calls you and you lie in the dark with him, stroking his hair.

"Found 'em!" you call as you go back into the house. "They were under the seat." Steve is leaning against the kitchen counter, clearly having decided you'd be successful.

"Should've known. I've been wearing them when I drive at night." He reaches for the case but you swat his hand away and step into his space. You remove the frames from the case carefully and reach up to perch them on his face. He holds very still, mouth turned up at the corner.

"Oh god," you say once they're on. Your palms rest on his chest. "Christ." Steve looks worried for a second, hands coming to rest on your hips, fingers a little tight over your shirt.

"What? What's wrong?"

"You are unbelievable," you scold, making sure to keep it light and teasing. "It's so unfair how glasses only make you look hotter."

Steve groans, throwing his head back and shaking it a little before laughing. His hands loosen and his thumbs sneak under your hem to rub warm circles on your bare skin.

"You think so?"

"Don't be modest, Steve. You have to know that this whole thing --" you wave your hand over him -- "is just..it's...I'm blushing just looking at you!"

"Okay, okay, I get it," he says. Despite his reputation and his history, Steve takes compliments like a kid taking cold medicine. He pulls one hand off of you to run it through his hair and you have to fight to keep an embarrassing noise in your throat, moving your fingers to his belt loops instead.

"What didn't you tell me about them?" you wonder out loud. You're not mad, you just want to understand.

"Honestly, I forgot," he shrugs, cheeks pink. "I swear. I've only had them a week and I keep losing them."

"Do you need to wear them all the time?"

"Yeah," he mumbles. His free hand comes back to toy with a strand of your hair. "I should. When I'm driving or at work or reading...not that I do much of that. But if I do it without them I'll get a headache." He sighs. "Been knocked around one time too many, I guess."

You frown at the reminder of Steve's pain, of all the things he's suffered through because he's brave and kind and good.

"We should get another pair so you have two, just in case. I'll carry one around." The pretty flush spreads down his cheeks to his neck.

"Really? You'd want to?"

"Course, Steve. Gotta keep that pretty head of yours good and healthy." You poke him on the forehead. The glasses make his eyes impossibly big, and they are warmer than usual, so mesmerizing you don't know how you're going to deal with this every day. He blows a raspberry at your staring before taking the frames off and setting them on the counter.

"Hey, you just said you need to wear those --" He presses one hand into the small of your back to bring you even closer before hovering his lips over yours. You always keep your eyes open as long as you can before Steve kisses you because every second you get to look at him feels special, feels like you have to savor it. But your lids flutter close as he slots his mouth over yours and that sound you tampered down before finally escapes. He smiles when he hears it, nose brushing yours as he makes sure to kiss you thoroughly. Perhaps too thoroughly for his parent's kitchen in the middle of the day, but you'd never complain. He releases you and you're a little dazed as he puts his glasses back on, looking entirely too pleased.

"Do things look different?" you ask before wincing at how stupid it sounds. It's his fault anyway -- your brain is fuzzy from his closeness, even still.

"A little," he replies. His smile is soft, lips pink and pupils blown. He brings his thumb up to brush across your own swollen lower lip. "Helps with this eye." He gestures to the one that's been blackened almost too many times to count.

"Do I look different?" This question is softer, a little more serious. He studies you for a second, tilting your head left then right, pretending to think on it. His gaze travels across your brow and down your cheeks, documenting every hair and freckle and mark as if he didn't already have them memorized.

"Nope," he says finally. "Always been able to see you clearly, baby." You flush to the tips of your ears, your chest a warm mess of fondness and love.

"Still pretty as ever, too," he adds. "Seriously, every day I look at you and think, how is this even allowed?" You wrinkle your nose at him before resting your head on his chest, his arms coming around you. He laughs, just happy to have this moment with you, and you can feel it, his heartbeat strong in your ear. I am so lucky, you think. Steve is thinking the same thing.

tags: @spideyboipete @sunlitide @gloryofroses19 @carpediem1219 @themarvelousbee

want to be added to my tag list for full-length (non-ask) fics? send me a message and specify for steve, eddie, or both!

reblog, send feedback, requests open, masterlist here!

#steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction

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killuintense · 8 months

Text

❝ see you, leon ❞

rookie!leon kennedy x fem!reader.

Warning: first part, final part | isn't necessary to read it to understand this second part.

summary: the weeks had passed and Leon and you each time had more affectionate and... particular touches.

note: 3.2k words, fluff, comfort, smut, handjob, blowjob, oral (m!receiving), throatfucking, pulling hair, praising, soft dom and a little of perv Leon.

note: while i was writing this i was really thinking if i should do a third part but i don't know, i'm undecided, i don't want to drag it out unnecessarily but i love writing it T.T I hope you really enjoy it, comments and reblogs are always welcome!! ♡

Leon's thoughts these last weeks were an endless banquet. He was trying to sort out his thoughts and to understand these particular feelings, especially since he was already an adult and couldn't be feeling like a teenager when he was 21 years old. But simply the interactions with you had become somehow... particular.

Inevitably, seeing each other often and having to accompany you to college or to specific places where your father asked Leon to approach you had made the two of you closer. But that didn't mean you had to become more affectionate with each other, and yet there you were, giving each other glances from afar in the office, gently brushing against each other as you passed each other's desks, joking more with each other than with any other intern in the police department. And that's because Leon started out seeing you as a beautiful young woman, as that fresh breeze he so desperately needed and, don't get him wrong, he still was, but now every time he saw you besides that he felt tingly, his fingertips restless to want to touch you, to want to walk along the curve of your hips to your waist. Sometimes he surprised himself by not being able to take his eyes off that shirt that was slightly transparent, revealing the lace bra that you happened to have put on that day he had to spend all day locked up in the office doing paperwork. Even you yourself sometimes caught him looking at you as if you were a candy that they were not allowed to eat, or even desire.

For Leon it was certainly quite new to feel this way, desiring another person had not been in his plans since his youth had been so traumatic, and even when he had made the effort to have a partner, it had all been very awkward and weird. So, with those feelings on top, he sometimes felt guilty for looking at you so morbidly, as if inside you didn't flutter every time that police officer had to make an effort to get back to work so he wouldn't keep getting distracted by your innocent cleavage or your tight pants which, for some reason, you let show more when you bent down to pick up something you dropped. Not at all intentional.

You enjoyed a little -too much- pushing him to the limit, or seeing what his next reaction would be. And even though Leon was quite bashful and shy, bordering on awkward, he would sometimes surprise you when he would unconsciously make suggestive jokes or touch you almost without realizing it. And lately those interactions were becoming more and more frequent.

"Today you seem to have a different hairstyle, do you want to conquer a boy in your university perhaps?" he joked, while he took a sip of his freshly brewed coffee for you and fiddled with a loose strand of your hairstyle; it was nothing new or particular, but that man seemed to see with dazzling eyes even the most ordinary thing in you. That day you had stopped by his desk to leave him some coffee, and apparently he took advantage of the fact that there weren't many officers hanging around the office to get up from his chair and stretch a bit. Although it was just an excuse to see you better.

"From college? Do you think there aren't hot cops here?" you played along and laughed as you denied "Actually that's the hairstyle I wear almost every day, rookie" you raised an eyebrow and gently pulled him closer, crossing your arms across your chest as you gave him a gentle swat on his arm with amusement. You felt your breath fail you every time you were close to him and he seemed to stop being so shy, and the fact that he was rarely so bold made you want him more and more, wanting to get his attention in every possible way caused a relentless heat in your chest and other parts of your body. More than one you wanted the blond in front of you to touch them.

Every week felt like you were getting more and more affectionate, as if every time they passed the need to get a little closer and feel a little more unbearable. Like the time you had approached him to hand him some papers that as a favor your father had given you for Leon, and he had rested his hand absentmindedly on your waist giving you a light squeeze, saying 'Thank you'. It had warmed you up in a way to see him so focused on his work and that without thinking twice, his first reaction would have been to grab your waist in such a possessive way. What you ignored, as you soon went about your business, was that Leon became aware of your movements and was now as red as a tomato, his hand still tingling from having touched you in that way. You also sometimes found yourself running your hands over his shoulders and massaging him 'friendly' feeling how his hardened muscles under your touch relaxed little by little, and he sighed with pleasure. Oh, God, so many scenarios.

Sometimes you felt like a pervert with poor Leon, as if you were going to corrupt that good boy behavior he had, the full-fledged cop who sought to protect everyone. You liked to imagine him in scenarios totally unsuitable for him. Pushing you up against his desk when it was just the two of you in the office, imprisoning himself inside you without caring if anyone came in and saw you. Would he ever do it? Did he even see you that way? Anyway, you were still content with his little touches and whispers in your ear while you were in the break room.

"Seriously" both of you sharing complicated giggles. He was gently caressing your hand and you were denying; it was such an obvious but intimate flirtation between the two of you "You should come patrol with me, you know? I look very professional doing it" he gave a look of superiority that you swore was the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen in your whole fucking sight. You wanted to devour him.

"Leon, you'd be distracted, you always make dumb jokes when you're together" you scolded him and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze, caressing slight abstract shapes on your skin as he shrugged, downplaying it.

"I can handle that" he spoke, taking a sip of his coffee, which he swallowed quickly as soon as he seemed to remember something "In fact, when I was in the police academy they gave me a course on how to patrol having sweet spoiled little girls as co-pilot" he stated, earning a bump on his pelvis with your hip, unsettling him a bit as he staggered back, laughing even more.

"You're unbearable, Kennedy" you snorted, laughing as you saw that he kept looking at you, smiling mockingly but with that look of sweetness in his eyes, knowing that he was saying all those things to see you smile; because only your smile could undo all the bad in his day. Although, you thought it would be fun to leave him a little souvenir of you for bothering him "Anyway, I have to get on with my thing. See you, Leon" before walking away you left a little kiss on his neck, since it was the closest you had without having to stand on your tiptoes to reach his cheek, because of the height difference. You surprised him, yes, but he remembered you even more at the end of the day, when he was taking off his suit in the locker area.

"Roookie, you look like you've been having fun lately, don't you?" one of his buddies said to him as he finished putting his uniform away in the locker corresponding to him. Several other cadets came over to see what he was referring to while Leon looked on in confusion as they laughed pointing at his neck. As soon as he saw himself in the nearest mirror he could see the mark of a kiss made with carmesi lipstick. The same one that you always wore; but that only Leon noticed when he saw you so close. Was he serious? He had been walking around all day with a kiss of yours marked on his skin. You were really terrible, spoiled and defiant.

Yes, she had to put up with a couple of teasing but... she had to admit that she seriously thought about not removing the mark from her neck. However, he didn't want your father to banish him from his post forever. Although for you and your sweet mouth on his neck he would think about it as many times as necessary.

That day was one like any other for Leon, he got up early in the morning, took a quick shower and ate what breakfast he had time for before rushing off to the police station in his Jeep, arriving after ten minutes. He was a little disappointed not to see you glued to your books like every morning, reading text after text with a frown and a pencil glued to your lips with interest, deciphering every sentence you came across. With some laziness for not having your jokes and comments so early in the morning, she went to the locker room to put on her uniform and start with the paperwork once and for all.

His day continued to be boring, and he thought patrol time would be just as monotonous as usual until he spotted you across the street, as beautiful as ever. You were talking to what appeared to be a classmate from your college; you were wearing a short but straight skirt, clinging to your curves along with a tight but long-sleeved T-shirt with a high neck, leaving to the imagination as it clung suggestively to your chest. His gaze went down to your legs, his eyes wandered over your thighs, he wanted to squeeze them and sink into them, bite into them; these were covered by full, thin but dark stockings and brown mid-calf boots. Everything looked so good on you, so elegant but sensual at the same time. Almost felt the need to be able to look at you and proudly say 'Yes, that girl over there is mine'.

"Leon?" your soft voice mixed with a little giggle brought him out of his thoughts, you were tapping on the glass of the patrol car, waving with a wave of your hand while smiling with surprise as you confirmed that it was Leon. He opened the door of the vehicle and let you in.

"Hey, what were you doing here?" he asked almost immediately, an overprotective tone was present since it was quite common that that area was quite dangerous and far from your university "You know it's not safe" he almost scolded, but you ignored him leaving a soft kiss on his cheek as a greeting as it was customary between you. However, what that meant was that every time you did so Leon's tongue seemed to get tongue-tied.

"Damn, you're serious about police work with me, you know?" you laughed. "But relax, I just had to get together with a partner for work, officer, no big deal..." you tugged one of his blond hairs playfully, listening to the soft sigh from his lips, giving up on you. He continued driving while he asked you about your day, and warned you that as soon as the patrol was over he would catch up with you at the station or your house "In fact... you owed me the ride" you said playfully "You know, you should put into practice what they taught you at the academy, patrolling with a spoiled girl as a co-pilot" you reminded him, and Leon let out a soft laugh, denying.

"Luckily I passed that test so I've got it covered, pretty girl" his gaze stayed on the road, one of his hands glued to the steering wheel and the other maneuvering the gearshift, braking on the side as he scanned the sides, checking to make sure there was nothing strange or out of place around the area. He was about to resume the ride when he felt your hand gently squeeze his thigh, causing him to look at you somewhat nervously. "Why...?" the words caught in his throat and he had to swallow as best he could to keep from choking, as you were getting higher and higher and he was not a person with much self-control over the natural reactions his body could have.

"Because I missed you... yesterday and today we almost didn't get to see each other" you weren't playing when you said that, and the soft pout on your lips melted Leon, sending a pang to the tip of his dick, making him like a hormonal teenager become fully hard in a matter of seconds. He was so embarrassed, he could feel the wetness of the precum staining his underwear and if he kept it up, feeling your hand squeezing his hard cock, it would eventually stain his uniform. "Leon... can I...?" the need in your voice, saying that almost like a pleading moan. Leon would die right then and there, and he thought about telling you no, he didn't want to put you in that situation but he was so horny and needy for you and your mouth that he nodded with pathetic quickness.

"Y-yes... ah... fuck" he hissed as your fingers quickly unbuckled his belt. He lifted his hips helping you pull down his underwear and his cock slapped against his abdomen as you brought your face dangerously close to his dripping, weeping head. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, and your ears sweetened with the gasps he let out so desperate to feel the warmth of your mouth with your throat squeezing him so that you learned every fucking vein on his dick desperate for you. "Please don't punish me like that..... Oh, shit" he moaned throwing his head back, sinking his hair into the headboard. You had run your tongue outlining his hot, dripping shaft, your saliva leaving a hot trail as you eagerly collected his wetness.

"I didn't know you were so big, with that innocent little face of yours, you keep such a big cock" you whispered into his tip, and he in a spasm lifted his pelvis, causing his head to brush your lips. Your hands traveled from his thighs to his phallus, squeezing it to create friction as you moved up and down nonchalantly, making a torturous, slow dance. You wanted to know what he would do to make you take him in your mouth, you wanted to make him desperate to fuck the inside of your mouth as if his life depended on it. But you knew he was trying hard not to cum right there; so sensitive.

"For God's sake, I'm going to explode, just... just suck it all at once" his voice became a little harsh, and you were already feeling so wet and throbbing. But your boy was waiting for you so you giggled and took the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking with desire and devotion. It felt warm and somewhat salty, slippery but at the same time sticky and Leon's hand traveled to your hair 'Wow.... Pretty desperate' you thought, and that thought triggered a smoldering need to keep driving him to the edge of driving him crazy. So without making him wait any longer you shoved as much as you could into your mouth, getting used to the size because, shit, Leon sure was thick. He squeezed your hair and stretched it gently, moaning sharply as he rammed into your mouth for the first time. Your legs turned to jelly and you trembled, lowered and raised your head as you settled his cock in your throat making it as deep as possible so it would go all the way in, squeezing you around it. Obscene noises and moans from both of you graced the patrol car that Leon was thankful was armored. "God, your mouth, fuck, so good, you suck me so good" he moaned, not even thinking about what he was saying, raising and lowering his hips carelessly as he plunged your head deeper to get deeper. He delighted in your moans and choked sounds trying not to drown you out, or let out tears at how full your mouth felt. Your nose gently brushed against his pubic hair, just as blond as everything else on him; it made you drunk, it made you wetter and wetter.

"Mhm!" you moaned, your mouth being fucked by Leon's desperation and excitement over and over again. Each time he moaned and rammed more sloppily and hearing you squeal low was enough to make him want to push you away so he could finish the job of masturbating himself. Yet you denied, sucking on his veins, cupping his glans on your cheek, doing a thousand and one things with his juicy cock that you had fantasized nights and nights about sucking while you masturbated without any qualms. You felt him stiffen and curse and before you knew it you were having Leon's seed in your throat. It was hot, thick, plentiful; it filled your mouth and escaped from the corner of your lips and you commanded it so well that the blond felt like he was going to pass out, letting out an errant spasm. You swallowed it all with pride, pride that came from having made that hot blond -which caused all your friends to ask you for his phone number-, have probably the biggest orgasm of his life just from your mouth. He even tried to speak, but the words didn't come out coherently, apologizing to you for cumming so fast, thanking you for sucking him so well. "Shh... it's okay, babe" you stroked his cheek and wiped the corner of your lips. Leon avoided looking at you so he wouldn't get hard again.

With your help he adjusted his pants and before he could speak again you were kissing, now with sweetness and curiosity. Both of you exploring each other for the first time, him feeling his own taste in your mouth and you feeling his mouth so warm and wet. "I..." he sighed as they pulled away for air, leaving a wet kiss on your neck "I promise to return the favor, I really do" he spoke as best he could and you laughed. His hands squeezed and pampered your body as if it was the last time he was going to touch you. You stroked his hair and he settled into your chest, inhaling that sweet scent you gave off.

"I'll take your word for it, Kennedy."

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pasukiyo · 1 year

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𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 | bradley bradshaw

bradley “rooster” bradshaw x f!reader 5,207 words warnings: smutttt, oops unprotected sex summary: you were the most beautiful girl bradley had ever laid eyes on. and he was going to prove he was worth your while. he was gonna make sure you took his picture.

Bradley and the rest of his squad erupted into applause and laughter as Penny rang the bell, indicating some poor old fuck had left their phone on the counter again. “Right, well I…” Bradley began, handing his pool stick to Nat, “…am gonna go get a drink on the newbie. Rounds, anyone?”

He counted the amount of hands raised before making his way over to the bar, resting his elbows on the counter and leaning into it as Penny approached. “Make that five more on the newcomer,” Bradley said, holding up five fingers and beaming at a middle-aged man on the other side who scowled in response. Penny snickered, “coming right up, Roost.”

Bradley tapped his fingers against the top of the counter to the beat of the Kenny Loggins song blasting through the speakers, the lyrics muffled, drowning under laughter and unnecessarily loud conversations. The Hard Deck was packed tonight— there were groups of people everywhere, leaving little space to roam around.

He snorted to himself at the thought of the poor bastard who had to buy the whole joint rounds tonight.

As Penny placed two out of the five beers in front of Bradley, he let his eyes wander to the entrance where a figure had just emerged, the door swinging shut behind them. It was a woman— running her fingers through the hair atop of her head as she slithered her way through the crowd. Just as Bradley was about to look away, he felt his heart stutter in his chest, darting his gaze back to the silhouette in a double take.

She was wearing a tight, slate gray Fleetwood Mac shirt tucked into little jean shorts, a camera bobbing up and down against her hip, held there by a black strap around her shoulder. Bradley felt his eyes watering as he stared, almost forgetting to blink as he watched her push her way towards the bar and…

…oh. She was coming his way, and that was when it occurred to him that the last open space at the bar was right beside him.

She was making her way around the bar, and Bradley couldn’t pry his eyes away from her hips as they swayed with every step she made, weaving her way past Coyote and Hangman where they stood beside the pool table. Bradley could already feel his blood boiling when Jake did a double take, eyeing her up and down as she passed.

He was hopeless— but now he knew for certain that he had to talk to her tonight.

When she finally stepped up to the seat beside him at the bar, he could smell lavender— was that her perfume? She turned to spare him a glance, the corners of her lips curving into a friendly smile as Penny set the last three beers down in front of him. She grinned over to the new girl, holding up a finger. “Just one second,” she said. “The group over there have been staring me down like hawks.”

The girl beside him laughed and brushed her hair behind her ear, shaking her head. “It’s no problem,” she replied, waving her off, and Bradley turned to look at her again once Penny had turned away. His gaze ventured down to her hip where her camera hung, and he cleared his throat, nursing his own bottle of beer to his chest.

“You take pictures?” His words tumbled out of him, and he mentally cursed at himself. Not even a hello, Rooster?

She turned to look at him, and Bradley felt his skin grow warm at the way she eyed him up and down, her lips curved into a crescent. “Only things I feel like are worth remembering,” she replied, rolling her bottom lip between her teeth as their irises surged into one another, and Bradley felt his jeans tighten just a little more at her words. He brought the rim of his bottle to his lips, taking a small sip of beer.

He nodded and hummed around the glass, setting the bottle back down on the counter before turning to face her, leaning a single elbow on the bar for support. “Hm. So what are things you feel are worth remembering?” He asked, and she tilted her chin towards the ceiling, sighing as she rested a fist on her hip.

“Let’s see…” she began, pausing to think. “The sunset over the ocean, rainy days, the little ducks that always find their way in my yard…”

Bradley furrowed his eyebrows at this, and she glanced over at him, a wrinkle in her own brow. “You’re judging me,” she said, and the corners of his mouth twitched, raising his bottle to his lips to hide the fact that he was smiling. He shook his head as he took another mouthful of beer, and she narrowed her eyes. “No, you’re totally making fun of me.”

Bradley couldn’t suppress his chuckle any longer and he placed his bottle back down on the counter, shaking his head again. “No, no, I’m not making fun of you,” he replied. “But ducks? Come on, what about things like… I don’t know…”

He contemplated his words as they rested on the tip of his tongue, and when his gaze met hers again, he felt like he was burning. He felt like he was alive, more alive than he’d felt in a very long time. For years, Bradley only worked, worked, worked. Ever since his mom died, it’s been all he’s ever known.

But now, looking at her, he wanted to get to know her. He wanted whatever she could offer him, and he hoped she’d come to want whatever it was he could give her, too.

It was crazy, totally and completely insane, but the second he laid his eyes on this ridiculously beautiful girl beside him, he felt like he was being given another chance. He just had to take it.

“…guys at bars wearing Levi’s and Hawaiian button-ups?”

He watched as her eyes ventured down his body again, and he saw the moment her lips began to curve into a smile before she dropped her head, her hand slithering behind her neck. His chest heaved with a laugh when she giggled, shrugging her shoulders.

“I don’t know,” she replied, gazing back up at him with those ridiculously beautiful eyes. “Are you worth my while?”

Oh. He could feel those words straight through his jeans, and he suddenly had the urge to take her hand and lead her to the bathroom to take care of it. Instead, he grinned at her behind his beer just as Penny started to make her way back over.

He was definitely going to make sure she remembered him.

“Oh, I’m sure of it,” he replied, leaning in closer. “Can I buy you a drink? Or…” he gestured with his head over to the man across the bar. “…let me get you one on the poor bastard buying rounds for everyone tonight?”

She tried to bite back her grin as he ordered a round for her, watching as the bartender grabbed another bottle of whatever beer he was drinking, sliding it over to where she sat. She wrapped her hands around the bottle and glanced over to the man beside her, who was raising his own bottle towards her. She couldn’t hold her smile any longer as they joined the glasses together in cheers.

“Jesus Bradshaw, you gonna make us wait all night?”

They both turned towards the pool tables where Nat and the others were staring, eyes narrowed in glares. At the realization that Bradley was with a girl though, the corner of Phoenix’s lips curled into a small smirk as she made her way over to the bar, grabbing the other four beers in front of Bradley.

“It’s your go, Roost,” she said, grinning at the girl beside him. “Clear shot with the 8.” Bradley winked at her over the top of his bottle as he pushed away from the bar, gesturing with his head over to the pool table. “Alright, get your camera ready,” he tittered, grabbing a pool stick from Bob.

She watched as he circled around the table, eyeing the 8 ball in the middle, squeezing a single lid shut as he leaned down to eye the cue ball. She watched the pool stick as the end slid between his middle and forefinger, and after a few practice motions, he thrusted the end into the cue ball, knocking it into the 8. She watched the black ball as it rolled down the green baize and into one of the pockets, and he threw his hands into the air in victory, turning to face her.

“You gonna take a picture of the best 8 ball player there is?”

The corners of her mouth twitched and she shrugged, “I don’t know. I mean, it wasn’t that impressive.”

Nat tried to hide her laugh with a cough, the others snickering behind their beer while Bradley’s face fell, narrowing his eyes. “Not that impressive?” He scoffed, and she shrugged again. “Right. So you’re not gonna make this easy, are you?”

She laughed as he sauntered back over to the bar, taking back his place beside her. “I never said I was easy,” she replied, a glimmer in her eyes. Bradley leaned in, “you gonna make me work for it?”

She leaned in too, her arm brushing against his, his skin seared in her touch’s wake. “If you’re up for the challenge.”

Bradley’s gaze flickered down to her lips, and he contemplated giving everything up and just kissing her right then and there. But then his gaze ventured lower to the slate gray t-shirt she was wearing, the cogs in his brain beginning to turn.

He was going to make her remember him. He was going to get his picture taken.

“You like Fleetwood Mac?” He asked, grabbing his beer and gesturing for her to follow him, to which she obliged, pushing away from the bar. She glanced down to her t-shirt as they circled around the bar, cocking an eyebrow towards her hairline. “Yeah?” She replied, watching as he made his way to the far wall, bending down towards an outlet and yanking the black cords away, much to the whole place’s dismay when the music came to an abrupt stop.

Angry shouting permeated the bar as Bradley placed his beer on the top of the piano she stood next to, cracking his knuckles and rolling his neck along with his shoulders. “Well, I’m afraid I don’t know how to play any Fleetwood on the keys,” he snickered, tilting his head back and eyeing her through his aviators.

She felt warmth pool between her legs when he swiped his tongue between his lips, and she shifted in her place.

“But I can play a mean Great Balls of Fire.”

Dramatically bobbing his head around, he played the first set of keys, looking her straight in the eyes as he began to sing. “You shake my nerves and rattle my brain,” he began, and she crossed an arm over her chest, using it to support her other elbow as she brought a hand to her lips, veiling her smile behind her digits. “Too much love drives a man insane.”

The others— his friends, she guessed— joined him at his side, laughing behind their beer bottles. But his eyes were set on her, and he even nodded down to the camera at her hip. “You broke my will,” he paused to play the following keys, “but what a thrill.”

His friends joined in as he sang the main line, “goodness gracious, great balls of fire!” and the crowd erupted into cheers and laughter as he dragged his fingers down the keyboard. She bit her nails to suppress the laughter bubbling in her chest as he continued to sing, and she could make out a cocked eyebrow behind his glasses.

He sure as hell was working his ass off for that picture.

“Kiss me baby,” he sang, rising from his seat, his fingers still on the keyboard. She approached the back of the piano as he leaned over, their faces so close now she could practically taste the beer on his breath. She smiled when he threw his head back as he sang, “ooh, that feels good, baby.”

He was glowing as he sang, fervently playing each key of the song. She felt like she was being drawn into him, almost as if he were magnetic and she was metal. He threw his hands down on the keyboard and leaned in closer until she could feel the hairs of his mustache prickling her skin, his lips a phantom over hers while he sang, “I wanna love you like a lover should.”

He pulled away to play the next keys before he was right back in front of her face, “you’re fine,” he chanted, “you’re so kind.” He tossed his head back again and when he came back, their lips brushed, and she could feel her skin burn when he sang, “I’ma tell the world that you’re mine, mine, mine, mine!”

Bradley fell back down onto his seat, moving his body to the beat as he continued to sing the song. He watched as she giggled, a flush on her cheeks as she reached down to her hip, her fingers clutching the black object at her hip.

And here it was, the moment Bradley’s been waiting for.

“Come on, baby, you’re driving me crazy,” he sang as she turned her camera on, bringing it up to her face. He watched as her forefinger rested on the button on the top, and right as he sang the chorus again, “goodness gracious, great balls of fire!” he could see her finger press down onto the button.

Bradley was ecstatic, his heart beating harder than it ever had before as he practically shouted the rest of the song, slamming his fingers down onto the last notes of the sound as the crowd hooted and hollered, erupting into applause. But none of that mattered, not when the most perfect girl he’d ever come across thought he was worth remembering.

He grabbed his beer bottle from the top of the piano as he circled around it, practically stumbling into her body, only partially because Nat and the others were crowding around him.

“So?” He raised his voice to be heard over the sea of people around them. “Was that not the best rendition of Great Balls of Fire you’ve ever heard or what?”

She laughed and dropped her head, suddenly aware of how close his body was. And now she was suddenly aware of the ache between her legs, realizing how much she wanted him. And when she gazed back up at him, she knew he was thinking of the exact same thing.

“It was definitely something to remember,” she replied with a giggle. She rolled onto the tips of her toes, curling her forefingers around the belt loops of his Levi’s before tugging him even closer, her breath a whisper on his skin. “I, for one, thought the singer looked ridiculously sexy playing the piano.”

Bradley could feel his breath as it hitched at the base of his throat, her words piercing right through the denim of his jeans and to his cock. With his hand not holding his beer bottle, he grabbed her waist and pulled her closer until her hips surged into his, and the way her gaze moved down to his lips did not go unnoticed.

He was fucked.

“Yeah?” He murmured, to which she nodded, feeling her own breath wavering, suddenly having the biggest urge to kiss his beer-stained lips, to have his body even closer. “Yeah,” she replied in hardly a whisper before his lips were on hers, his mustache deliciously prickling her skin as she wrapped her arms around his neck, barely holding onto her own bottle of beer at this point.

It was by far one of the craziest things she’d ever done— making out with a man she met half an hour ago in a cramped beachside bar. But when his hand slithered to the small of her back and drew her closer into his body, she never thought anything had felt more right.

Bradley pulled away, bringing the rim of his bottle to his lips to down the rest of his beer before reaching behind her to set it down on the nearest table. With her hand gripped in his, he led her through the sea of tipsy people, weaving their way between swaying bodies. He could see the restrooms up ahead, but there were so many people in his way, too enraptured in their conversations to see that he clearly needed to get through.

He pressed his lips together in a grimace, squeezing her hand before turning to face her, pressing his hips back into hers to be heard over the speakers somebody had plugged back into the wall. “What if we took this out to the parking lot?” He muttered close to her ear, and she blinked up at him, a smile tugging at her lips.

“You’re not going to beat me up, are you?” She asked teasingly, pinching her bottom lip with her teeth as she eyed the hair just above his mouth when the corner curved into a smirk. “Not in the way you’re thinking, at least.”

She could feel the heat as it crept up her neck and to her cheeks while Bradley guided her through the crowd and towards the exit. She felt like she was floating, like she was walking on a cloud as the man in front of her pushed the door open, holding it until she had passed through before letting it slam shut behind them. She watched as he fumbled around in his Levi’s pocket, fishing out his keys all whilst leading her toward an old blue Ford Bronco.

Bradley was buzzing, just itching to get his hands on this seemingly perfect woman he had on his arm, practically tearing open the back seat to his Bronco and helping her up into it. She laughed as she leaned into the far car door, watching as he climbed in himself, crawling all the way up her body until his face was mere inches away from hers. He grabbed the strap of her camera and pulled it down her arm, reaching over to place it in the passenger’s seat.

“Gotta say, this was not how I expected my night to end,” she tittered, reaching up to once again curl her fingers into his belt loops. His mustache grazed the skin just below her nose, once again tasting the bitterness of beer on his breath as it lingered over her flesh. His eyes were a deep, velvety golden brown and she was basking in them as if they were warm, soft bed sheets. They were devouring her, and if he hadn’t been between them, she’d be squeezing her thighs together to ease the tension at her center.

“Me neither,” his voice was lower than before, raspier. And she moaned. She literally moaned at the sound of his voice, and she used the belt loops of his jeans as leverage so that she could grind her hips up into his. “But fuck, am I the luckiest bastard in the whole world tonight or what?”

She grinned as she tugged him down to her lips, her mouth crashing into his. She was sweating, and he was practically already melting into her like candle wax, and his lips, they were soft as well as their movements were rough. The shorts hairs of mustache pricked her skin in a delectable way, and she removed her fingers from his belt loops to instead weave them through the umber locks of his hair, whimpering against his mouth as she gave his roots a firm tug.

It wasn’t long before he was shouldering off his cream-colored Hawaiian button up, pulling away to slip the white tank top underneath up and over his head. His lips were surging back into hers as he worked the buttons of her little jean shorts, trailing his kisses down her jaw, to her neck, all the way to her collarbone as he dragged the denim down her legs. He pushed the slate gray Fleetwood Mac shirt up until it bunched just below her bra, his lips venturing down her stomach and past her belly button as he pulled the shorts away from her ankles.

She was a whining, moaning mess, her back arching up off of the tan leather seats as he pulled her shirt over her head, letting it fall to the floorboards. His hands were warm and big as they cupped her breasts over the lace of her bra, kneading her flesh as he placed kisses on her chest, sucking dark marks into her skin. She was panting now, and she swore she could feel a bead of sweat drip down the side of her face.

“Shit!” she gasped when he reached around to unclasp her bra, practically tearing it from her shoulders and tossing it into the empty front passenger’s seat. He was like a man starved when he pounced, groaning against her flesh when he gathered an erect nipple in his mouth, gazing up at her through hooded lids as he sucked.

She pinched her bottom lip with her teeth and squeezed her eyelids closed when he released her flesh with a wet pop, trailing sloppy, wet kisses in the valley of her breasts to tend to the other. She writhed beneath him, and she could feel herself throbbing for more.

“Please,” she mewled when he pulled away from her nipple, his chin wet with spit and his irises a deeper shade of brown, and she swore she could see the moment his pupils expanded when he gazed down at her. His fingers began to fumble with the buckle of his belt, and her chest heaved when she inhaled a shaky breath, humming in anticipation.

“Want more, baby?” He asked, to which she nodded her head up and down vigorously, her lips parting in a gasp as she let her gaze linger on his chest, the toned, tanned skin of his stomach. She didn’t think she could get anymore lucky— being underneath the most perfect and gorgeous guy she’d ever laid eyes on.

She felt the sudden need to pinch herself to make certain this wasn’t just a dream.

He tossed his belt into the front seat, tearing the button up and his zipper down, and she watched as he peeled the denim from his legs and…

…oh. He was pulling his boxers down at the same time and she felt as if she could foam at the mouth at the sight of his cock as it sprang free. It came to no surprise that he was big, but now that she was actually looking at it— the way the pink tip glistened with pre-cum, and he was so hard, the veins were bulging from his flesh. She was throbbing now more than ever, and she was quick to hook her fingers under the hem of her own panties, ridding herself of the last article of clothing on her body.

And when Bradley looked down, he groaned. She was so wet, he could see her slick as it oozed from her, sliding down her slit and creating a pool on the leather seat. He wrapped his hand around his girth and gave himself a few pumps while he shimmied his way down the seat until he was eye-level with her pussy.

“So goddamn wet,” he muttered, and she could feel his breath on her clit, she could feel the rasp in his voice pulse through her. “All this just for me?” He asked in a low murmur as he pressed wet kisses to the inside of her thighs, dangerously close to her heat. She bit down onto her lip and hummed, nodding her head in reply.

“Mhm,” she gasped when he kissed just above her clit. “Oh fuck, please!”

She was grasping his hair again, tugging hard at his scalp. But if it bothered him— which it didn’t— he didn’t make a show of it.

“‘Please?’” He repeated, eyeing her through heavy lids, the hairs of his mustache grazing against her clit making her go feral. “Please, just touch me already!” She whined, bucking her hips against his face, and his lips were a crescent against her pearl as he drew her into his mouth and sucked and oh, she thought she could come right then and there.

Her lips fell agape as he flicked his tongue up and down her aching bud, bowing his head so the tip of his nose was against her clit whilst he mouthed at her entrance. His tongue pried her open and she shrieked, arching her back and curling her toes and tugging harder on his hair. Her vision began to blur as she stared up at the ceiling of the Bronco, and when he managed to work his warm muscle all the way into her cunt, she squeezed her eyelids closed.

She was in utter bliss, never had sex felt this good, and they were just getting started. She’d never had anyone go down on her before, and now that she knew what it was like, she simply couldn’t get enough. The man between her legs was too good, his lips and his tongue and his mustache too fucking good.

She really needed to get his number after this.

But now she was close. Oh, she was so dangerously close to her orgasm, she could already see white. She panted and peeled her eyelids open, looking down at him to see he was already staring up at her. He rubbed the bridge of his nose against her clit as he lapped at her entrance and her vision blurred with the haze of tears.

“Oh, baby,” she cried, “I’m so close. I’m so fucking cl—“

She was stopped mid-sentence by her moan, and she ground her hips into his face and she could feel her climax as it just started to begin and—

—then it was all gone.

She could no longer feel him between her thighs, and her eyelids shot open, watching as he hovered over her, his lips glistening with her juices, droplets of nectar littering his mustache. She furrowed her eyebrows as the corner of his lips tugged into a smirk and he leaned down to press them to hers, her own taste coating her tongue.

“Why’d you stop?” She whimpered when he pulled away, and he ran the pad of his thumb over her bud with one hand, wrapping his other around his cock with the other and giving it a few tugs. “Didn’t think I’d let you come yet, did you?” He sneered, and her bottom lip jutted out into a pout. He chuckled as he leaned down to press another kiss to her lips, and he lingered even after he pulled away.

She was losing herself in the soils of his irises, and she almost didn’t register what he said at first.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you in no time, darling.”

She watched as he leaned away, still maintaining eye contact as he gripped her hip with one hand, guiding the head of his cock to her entrance with the other. She didn’t dare look away either, even when he pushed the tip in, even when the delicious stretch made her eyes well up with tears.

Moving slowly at first to give her time to adjust, he eased himself further into her until he was finally fully sheathed inside of her. He was so deep and she could feel every single inch of him, and she thought to herself that never had anyone reached the places inside of her he was reaching now. He was perfect, and they fit together perfectly like two puzzle pieces.

She wanted to cry. She would forever be grateful that she decided to walk into that ridiculously crowded bar despite her initial apprehension due to how packed the parking lot was. She would forever be grateful that she walked over to the smoking hot guy at the bar and gave him a chance. She was grateful for the night, for the universe, for everything right now.

Eventually, he began to pick up his pace, the windows fogging up with every heavy breath, every thrust, every smack of skin against skin. Her legs were shaking, and as he leaned over to hover over her, one hand kneading the flesh at her hip and the other clutching the car door behind her, she grabbed at his arms, her nails etching crescent moons into his skin.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, fluttering his eyes closed and tossing his head back. “You’re so tight.”

She was squeezing him so well, he felt like he could hardly breathe. He slammed his hips harder into hers, feeling the coil at the pit of his stomach. He was so close to breaking, and he could feel she was too.

She could, in fact, feel the stretching of the rubber band at the pit of her stomach, and she was dangerously close to snapping. Tears streamed down the sides of her face as she whimpered and mewled incoherent nothings, just able to make out his silhouette in her watercolor eyes.

“I’m so… I’m gonna… oh fuck!” She mewled. “I’m gonna c… I’m gonna come!”

He nodded as he pounded her harder, faster. She was clenching around him as she began to break, her body quaking in the wake of her orgasm. Bradley removed his hand from the car door behind her and gripped her other hip, practically slamming himself repeatedly into her as hard as he could, no doubt making the Bronco shake.

“Oh fuck!” He growled as he felt himself about to snap, and he managed to pull himself out just in time to unload all over her stomach, spurts of white coating her skin. She was blinking repeatedly to clear her vision, staring up at the ceiling of the car as he collapsed into the door behind him, his chest heaving as he chased air back into his lungs.

After a few moments, she managed to push herself up with her elbows to lean back into the car door, facing him as he wiped the sweat from his brow. If she had any energy left in her body, she’d crawl into his lap and kiss him until the sun rose back up the horizon.

But instead, she nudged his knee with her foot.

“You never actually told me your name,” she panted, and he squeezed his eyelids shut, throwing his head back against the window and covering his eyes with his palm.

“I never did, did I?”

“Nope.”

She chuckled as he pushed away from the door and scooted closer to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to press a kiss to the crown of her head. “Bradley Bradshaw,” he murmured against his skin. “And if you’d give me your number, I’d love to get you to take my picture again sometime.”

a/n; finally my first bradley fic!! mf has been on my mind so much and i can’t believe ive put off writing for him so long— i know this isn’t tom riddle or harry potter related but i hope you guys still enjoy because i really wanna start writing for bradley and my other comfort characters 🥹

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagine #bradley Bradshaw fanfic

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y-umiko · 1 year

Text

RANDOM HOT THINGS THEY DO

A/n: I think I miss writing too much :) anyways- This goes from Hot to cute. character(s): Various characters with no particular order

Baji taking his shirt off by pulling it from the back and over his head, his toned stomach on display for you to see. bonus if he was wearing his sweatpants dangerously low on his hips. do this often within your sight, knowing you can't help but stare.

Kazutora slightly slid off the right part of his jacket to show his sleeveless undershirt, Showcasing his tattoos running up from his right shoulder up to his neck. he does this when it gets too hot for his liking.

Hanma with his hair down and his golden eyes peeking through the strands of hair shows an innocent and sexy charm, this occurrence is most common when his fresh out of the shower or when he has just woken up. claims he hates it when you ruffle his hair but secretly it makes him sleepy.

Kisaki loosening his tie after a long day with one hand then removing his glasses in one swift movement before dropping all his weight into you. tucking his head between your shoulder and neck, mumbling about his day and how much he hated Hanma for making his day unnecessarily hard.

Sanzu habitually sticks out his tongue on almost any occasion while his eyes are dazed and deliriously crossed upward as he slaps the gun onto his tongue. or in just some cases licking his lips while maintaining eye contact at you, aware of his effect on you.

Kakucho rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt, exposing his forearms before doing tedious work, his muscles openly displayed for you to ogle. A few buttons open revealing his collarbone. You swore its almost a sin to look at him.

Ran leaning down to hear you better and clearer, head tilted to the side to allow you to whisper in his ears, before giving his shit-grinning smile.

Rindou not bothering to wipe your lipstick stain after making out or habitually placing his hand in your tight whenever you're sitting together, him tracing random shapes in your skin when he gets bored. your breath hitches when you feel him squeeze your thigh.

Wakasa always smells good no matter what situation, you get a whiff whenever you sat beside him or you pass by him. it was intoxicating.

Draken wiping off his sweat after a workout or after tinkering with his bike, using the bottom of his shirt to give you the perfect view of his abs.

Mikey casually flexes his muscles when he opens that jar of peanut butter for you, even though you know it's not actually that tight.

Chifuyu wiping the corner of your mouth with his thumb and then gives you his closed eyes grinning face that makes your heart flutter.

Mitsuya still being a gentleman even when he's angry, pulling you to the side of the road where there aren’t moving cars while he was scolding you or nagging while he patches you up.

Izana makes good eye contact whenever you hand-feed him snacks or most of the time chocolates, his lips brushing against your fingers, catching you off guard whenever he licks the remnants on your fingers.

Shinichiro grabbing your burnt fingers and places them into his mouth to soothe the burn, concern swirling within his gaze.

Akashi puts off his cigarette and tossing it away whenever you're within the area.

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ohtobeleah · 2 years

Text

Hopelessly Devoted // Bob Floyd

Summary: After Bob gets back from Miramar, he makes a B-line straight for your doorstep. Holding himself together just barely.

Warnings: Angst. mentions of mental health. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x reader. No use of Y/n.

Word Count: 3k

Author Note: Listen, this isn’t my favourite piece but it was just sitting in my drafts and I thought it may as well be shared.

The fall season always brought you much delight. The smell of pumpkin spice from your seasonal candles filled your home. Seasonal decor ranging from ceramic pumpkins to throw pillows that said ‘boo’ and ‘beware’ made your house feel very much like a home. The sound of gentle rain falling outside mixed with the soon to be full onset thunderstorm—rolling in slowly as the claps of thunder grew more aggressive every few minutes.

Lightning lit up all the windows of your living room as you sat curled up with your study notes. Preparing for your assessments. A bachelors in mechanical engineering had your name on it. Soon you hoped to work aboard some of the Navy’s patrol boats. A small stepping stone to where you’d like to end up one day. But for now? You’d do the work.

A gentle knock against your front door broke you from your concentration. You weren’t expecting a visitor this late. Not at ten thirty on a Sunday night. When you heard the gentle knock again your heart leapt from your chest. Jumping up as your papers fell from your lap. Now discarded on the floor in a pile.

“It’s me—“ Bob cooed, his forehand resting against your door as his knuckles softly knocked against your door. As you swung the door open, Bob stumbled in. His uniform absolutely drenched, waterlogged as all hell from the ran that had settled in nicely. His glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose as he dropped his duffel bag. Instantly letting the weight of the world fall off his shoulders as he brought you into a tight hug. His arms encapsulated you over your shoulders. “Hey—“ Bob mumbled as he rest his chin against the top of your head. Holding you in his arms.

“What are you doing here!?” You questioned as you hugged Bob back. His head was now in the crook of your neck as he crouched, letting you off the ground for a moment. Gentle sobs escaped as Bob broke in your arms, his legs felt weak. He put you down and pulled back, Bob took a deep breath in as he pushed his glasses up his nose. “You weren’t supposed to be back till tomorrow afternoon! I was gonna come pick you up and everything!” You questioned.

“Yeah well, I just needed to see you, now—“ Bob admitted. Robert Floyd had been your best friend since the second grade. Some days it was still hard to wrap your head around the idea that the same kid who cried on multiple occasions after finding out bees only sting once then they die, was a weapons systems officer for the Navy—and a damn fine one at that. “Missed you.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Bob to turn up at your door after deployment, but this felt different. Something was off. “Just—“ You could hear it in the cracks in his voice, saw it in the way he held his lips tight to keep his emotions in check. “I just, I just needed to see you.” You kept Bob grounded, and after everything that had happened. The accident, the mission? He could feel himself pulling back from reality.

“You wanna come inside? Have a shower?” You cooed. “I’ll make you a cup of tea.” You smiled softly, grabbing Bob's duffel as he followed you inside. He took in the smell of pumpkin spice, it instantly reminded him that he was home. He was safe. He could relax. Pumpkin spice always reminded him of you—like a warm hug. “I won’t sugar coat though, you look like hell.” You sighed. “You wanna talk about it or—?” walking up the stairs with a huff as you carried Bob’s duffel. Unnecessarily heavy as you asked Bob a question he wasn’t sure what the answer was. He broke it down the best he could as he followed right behind you. Like a lost puppy.

“I look like shit but at least my shirt doesn’t say ‘welcome to the ‘Boo Bunker.” Bob teased. “I haven’t slept since I got off Leyte Gulf.” Bob couldn’t. He’d tried, but the sound of surface to air missiles rang in his head, exploding without warning or rhythm. “And no, not particularly, I feel like a bag of ass.” Sighing, Bob ran his hands down his cheeks in dismay.

“It would be rude of me to agree.” you smirked, handing Bob a fresh towel from your linen cupboard. You missed him. Too much. “Go have a warm shower, have you told your mum and dad you're here yet?” Bob shook his head no in response. Omitting a gasp you shoved his chest softly—with enough force to have Bob letting out a hiss. “Robert Floyd, your mother will kill me if I Harbor you here and she doesn’t know!“ In the very same breath you also noticed Bob's uncomfortable expression. “What, what’s wrong?” You questioned, puzzled as to why Bob's hand lingered on his shoulder.

“It’s nothing—promise.” Bob let his hand settle on the small of your back, drawing you in as he pressed a soft and subtle kiss against your forehead. Closing your eyes you took a mental picture of the moment. “I’ll let my mother know I’m home tomorrow, like I was supposed to be.” Bob reminded you. “She’d only worry more if she knew I was home early.”

“Does that mean I should be worried?” There was a reason why you and Bob had never really settled into a conventional relationship. He thought it would be selfish to ask you to worry constantly whenever he was deployed. Bob loved his job. But he loved you more, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask you to sacrifice piece of mind for him. Looking at you loving, Bob cupped your cheeks, the pad of his right thumb gently rubbed your cheek. Drinking in the sight of the only women he’d ever love. “Ro—“

“You never have to worry about me” he whispered. His eyes roaming every inch of your face. “Don’t worry about me, please—for the love god, don’t spend a second worrying.”

“Yeah well just because you say don’t worry, that doesn’t mean I don’t.” You replied sharply, Bob dropped his hands as you looked at him softly. Eyes so full of love and admiration for him. He could recognise the look because it mimicked his own. There was always an understanding, that underlying unambiguously love between the two of you. But to act on it would be selfish, at least in Bob's mind. He was never sure which mission or basic deployment might be his last. He knew he evaded death by inches this time round and boy it had him spooked.

“Anyway—“ you sighed. “You’re drenched and must be freezing, I don’t often bring strays into my home so you better go have a shower before I change my mind.” Bob raised his eyebrows at your attitude. Your clothes were slightly damp themselves from the hug he’d drawn you into at your doorstep, but nothing like his.

“You’re kinda rude sometimes—“ Bob snickered, walking past as he made his way to the bathroom. “Be out in a sec—“ shutting the door but choosing not to lock it. Looking at himself in the mirror Bob hissed as he undid his uniform buttons. His shoulder still stiff. Nothing technically wrong, just surface bruises that looked worse than what they were. A stiff right shoulder that had him using way too much deep heat.

“Shit—“ Bob hissed as he threw his shirt into a pile, working to unbuckle his belt. Knocking before you stuck your head in Bob felt like a deer in headlights. Speechless. He knew in that very second what was to come.

“I forgot to mention there’s a box under the cabinet with some random suppl—“ your heart sank as you took in the bruises, dark and littering Bob's torso. Opening the door completely, your eyes welled with tears. “Oh my god.” You cupped your mouth. Shock oozing from you as you stepped closer. Reaching out to trace the bruises that covered Bob's right pec. Your touch left Bob’s skin littered with goosebumps. An undeniable reaction to attraction.

“I promise it looks worse than it really is—“ Bob mumbled. His hand softly guiding you, tilting your chin up to catch your gaze. “I’m okay—“

“You and I both know you’re a bad liar, what in the hell happened?” Your mind ran through a million scenarios.

“Phoenix, my front seater and I had a training mishap.” Bob explained. “We have to eject—“

“EJECT!” You gasped. “BOB I’m literally you’re emergency contact why didn’t anyone call me!!” You panicked.

“I told them not to! I was fine! I mean I am fine!” Bob cupped Your cheeks holding you still as explained himself, god he hated the way your eyes watered. “Ejecting is just hard on the body, and my landing wasn’t all that gracious.” He’d blacked out after tumbling a few times. Hence all the bruises. It wasn’t something he was going to mention—and Bob was certainly going to omit that fact he had to use his secondary shoot.

“You ejected from your plane and didn’t call me?” You shook Bob's hands from your cheeks, stepping back as Bob stood before you, his belt in his hand, his fly half done up. Shirtless. His muscles popping, bigger than you remembered. More defined and toned.

“I didn’t want to worry you!” You scoffed out a sarcastic chuckle in response to Bob's reasoning.

“Oh my god you self righteous asshole—“ shaking your head in defeat. “ I’m going to worry about you! I do worry about you, Bob. I worry about you every second of every damn day and there is nothing and I mean nothing you can do to stop me because me worrying is me caring and I care too much about you to lose you!” You felt like you couldn’t breathe. “I mean look at you it looks like you’d been—you—you’ve been.”

“Ejected from a F-18?” Bob finished your sentence as you let your tears fall freely down your cheeks. Chuckling softly, you gave Bob a look.

“Yes, it looks like you were ejected from an F-18 and I hate that you were!” Bob closed the gap between the two of you, taking your hand to rest it on his chest. “If something ever happened to you I wouldn’t know how to coup—not telling me, not letting me in? It’s wicked, it’s cold-hearted and it’s cruel.” You didn’t take your eyes off Bob for a second as you leaned against him. The gap none existent. “It’s entirely keeping with this self sacrificing righteousness that you Navel men seem to have. It’s ruthless to shut the people out who care about you because in some twisted way you believe you’re doing us all a favour.”

“I’m okay—“ you could feel his heartbeat as Bob spoke softly, his voice deep, his eyes serious, his slight southern accent music to your ears. “I’m not just saying that, I mean it—it’s all surface layers.” You called Bobs bluff instantly as he tried to reassure you he was fine. He wasn’t fine, you could tell by the way he held you at your front door that he was thankful to have to opportunity to hold you again. That’s how much he wasn’t fine—because you could tell.

“How close?” You asked just above a whisper. Bob wanted to pretend like he didn’t know what you were talking about, but he knew. Looking up over your head he shook his head. Eyes watering. Voices he couldn’t get rid of ripping his head apart. Pounding on his skull.

“Phoenix break right! Break—“

“Rooster , two more on your six!”

“Dagger two defending!”

“Payback, same on your nose!”

“Dager one defending.”

“Rooster, tally, tally.”

“Talk to me Bob!”

“On our six!”

“Phoenix break right!”

“I don’t know what you mean?” Bob met your gaze. It was written all over his face.

“This was the one wasn’t it?” You could barely raise your voice above a whisper as the realisation set in. Robert Floyd almost didn’t come home to you. “Bo—“ Bob didn’t let you finish, his lips crashing into yours in some desperate attempt to keep your head from filling with scenarios about his untimely death. His hands cupping your cheeks, his body pressed to yours as he backed you up against the vanity. Gently hosting you up as he broke away—leaving you seeing stars. Lips tingling as your eyes traced every inch of his face.

“It could have been the one, but it wasn’t—“ Bob panted, his chest rising and falling as he stood between your legs, draping down his sides. “It wasn’t and I’m here and I don’t want to think about it because the more I think about it the deeper I fall in and I’m scared I won’t be able to pull myself out.” You let the silence linger for a moment as tears ran down Bob's face. Wiping them away softly you pressed your lips together in a solemn smile.

“If you don’t talk about it, it’ll be what kills you—“

“Don’t Dr.Phil me.” Bob hissed.

“You didn’t come here to be coddled!” You hissed back, snapping as you felt Bob's hand snake along the small of your back. As close as he could be.

“I came here because you were the only person, and I mean the only person who was on my mind when I was sure I wasn’t coming home.” Bob admitted. “I’m in love with you, I always have been and I can’t bring myself to ask you to say it back.” Bob let his forehead rest against yours. “And I’m so beyond grateful I was given the chance to live long enough to tell you I love you.”

It was something that you never thought you’d hear Bob admit but it was even harder to admit to yourself you would have waited a lifetime and then some. Hopelessly devoted.

“I know I don’t bring much to the table, I’m—just—“ you didn’t let him finish, no. You crashed your lips against Bobs. Teeth slightly grazed his as you deepened it. Tongues dancing as you moaned ever so gently into Bob’s mouth. Fuck he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t think. All he could do was savour the moment.

“You are everything I’ve ever wanted, what’s a girl gotta do to make you see that huh?” You asked as you pulled away. Leaning back against the mirror as Bob’s hands traced unidentified objects into your thighs. Sighing in defeat you opted to put yourself. “I love you, Bob I really do—“

“But?” Bob questioned, his heart racing. Trying to read you like he usually could, an open book.

“But you can’t shut me out if we do this?” You pleaded. “You gotta let me in, talk to me, let me worry, tell me when things are bad, when you’re bad! God—“ you paused, tears welling in your eyes once again. “I’d hate to think you were fine and the next day you’re just—gone.” Bob hadn’t really realised when the last time he really opened up was. He’d stopped in order to be less of a handful, and above all wanted people to worry less. Guess doing that was really causing the opposite to happen. “I need to know that when things are bad? They’re bad. And when things are good, they’re great.”

“Deal—“ Bob cooed. “Deal.” Kissing your temple Bob smirked against your skin. “I’ll have a shower, then we’ll talk? About everything.” You nodded, sighed as you slid off the vanity.

“I’ll make you that cup of tea—“ you said softly, the atmosphere around you and Bob heavy with emotion. “Take you time.” It was almost as if you didn’t believe Bob would let you in, you had felt him pulling away but you hadn’t realised just hard far you let him fall behind. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the way you wanted to leave but your feet wouldn’t move. The way you picked at the skin around your nails when you were nervous.

“You could stay, if you wanted to?” Bob smirked, his thumbs tucking into the waistband of his trousers. “I’ve uh—I can’t say I haven’t thought about you before.” Bob admitted as he stepped closer, watching as you didn’t move a muscle. “You’ve thought about me, haven’t you?” Kissing your neck softly you let your eyes roll in the back of your head as a just audible moan escaped.

“Now's not the right time—“ you tried to keep your composure. Bob pulled away to look at you one final time.

“Will there ever be a right time?” He whispered, his hand coming to push the hair that had fallen around your face behind your ear. “This is it for me, you’re it for me—always have been.” Bob cooed.

“You should have called me—“ you sobbed, dashing into Bob with so much force it sent him stumbling as he fumbled to get a grip on your waist. So much passion in your words, Bob knew it would be a long overdue conversation when you were finished. “Don’t you ever do that again—!” Pulling your shirt above your head Bob couldn’t breathe, was this really about to happen? Stepping into the shower you reached behind Bob, blasting the water as he stripped his trousers off. Still desperately kissing you as he did so. “I wanna know when you get a damn paper cut! Understand?” You hissed, pulled back as you pushed Bob under the stream of warm water—instantly soothing his battered and bruised skin. Pulling you into him as you shed your pyjama pants.

“Yes ma’am-“

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

#bob floyd angst #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun bob #lewis pullman #robert floyd x reader #robert bob floyd #robert #bob #bob floyd fic

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hamsterclaw · 9 months

Text

Weighted

You don’t know if you needed Namjoon, but he comes to you anyway. Part of the Love AU, read the rest here.

Pairing: Namjoon x afab! reader

Warnings: Sex, swearing, mention of self-harm

Rating: 18+

Word count: 1.1k

There are weighted days, like today, when the world sweeps by outside your window and you feel inconsequential.

Your presence is irrelevant, you’re a speck of matter in the universe, and it doesn’t make a blind bit of difference whether you are here or not.

You’re curled up in the duvet you dragged from your bed, scattering the clutter on your coffee table in its synthetic wake, face pressed to the glass.

The height of your apartment makes you feel a vertiginous swoop in your insides as you take in the city below you.

You’re too numb to feel anything but the basics. Hot, cold, hard, soft. Higher emotions escape you when you’re like this.

There’s a buzzing of your intercom that you’re trying to ignore.

It’s probably some parcel with something you thought you needed before you’ve come to know better.

Nothing can fill the void.

The sound of a key in the lock makes you groan and pull the duvet over your head.

There’s only one person with a key to your apartment, and it’s not a fuckboy that you need right now.

The door opens and you don’t look, buried under the textural swirls of your duvet, a sea of ivory.

There’s a few steps, the clatter of keys in the dish in your hallway.

Now he learns to put his keys in the right place.

One divorce too late.

The footsteps stop right next to you but you keep your eyes tightly closed, so tight the firebursts behind your eyelids are blinding anyway.

Kim Namjoon sighs, the impatience he puts in the sound making you feel the first emotion you’ve felt in days.

It’s anger.

You try to push it away but it burns bright.

‘Did you slit your wrists under there?’ he asks. He pats the fluffy bulk enclosing you half-heartedly.

‘Take any pills?’ he continues.

Like the anger, Namjoon is getting difficult to ignore.

You pull the covers off, head surfacing from the softness, re-entering the world where everything is too bright, too loud and too goddamn annoying.

‘Do you need something Namjoon?’ you ask, flat.

He doesn’t answer at first, eyes scanning your face.

Finally he says, ‘Need a fuck?’

You blink up at him.

Namjoon sighs again. ‘When did you last eat?’

He doesn’t wait for an answer this time, turning and heading in the direction of your tiny kitchenette.

There’s unnecessarily aggressive clanging of pots, even the hiss of the kettle seems louder, a scream of discontent cutting through the fog of your detachment.

Your traitorous stomach rumbles, but you can’t bring yourself to get up and go to the kitchen.

You close your eyes instead.

When you dip back into the world, Namjoon’s sitting on your couch.

‘I’m not heating this up again, so you’d better eat,’ he says, not looking at you.

It feels like you can’t move, the heaviness of everything presses you down.

Eventually, Namjoon gets up and sits next to you on the window seat.

‘Open,’ he says, holding out a mouthful of noodles.

It’s too big, he always makes each forkful the size he would eat himself, like he hasn’t noticed that you eat smaller bites.

It’s delicious though.

You wipe the drip of broth off your chin on your t-shirt, and to his credit, he doesn’t even blink.

Namjoon scans channels on your TV whilst he feeds you, you can hear snippets behind your head.

Canned laughter, classical piano, tension and an explosion.

Namjoon sets the empty bowl down.

‘Want to take a shower, baby?’ he asks.

His tone is gentle, coaxing.

‘You’ll feel better.’

He places a warm hand on the small of your back, leading you to your bathroom.

You’re not wearing much but he helps you out of your clothes anyway, puts the shower on.

His clothes land heavily on the floor, the denim of his jeans solid against the tiles.

He tests the water, tugs you in next to him, shielding you from the fall of water with his own body.

There’s the squirt of soap, then his warm hands smoothing over your shoulders, brushing over the rounds of your breasts.

Your nipples harden under his palms, there’s no way he hasn’t noticed, but he carries on, hands kneading your back.

He’s semi-hard, you note distantly, his cock rising a little away from his body as he cleans you.

He reaches between your legs, thumb over your clit, fingers sliding along your folds. You arch your back a little, and his cock hardens even more.

Namjoon kneels to slide soap down your thighs, behind your knees, and you put your hand on his shoulder to steady yourself.

When he comes back up he’s fully hard, cock pressing into your belly.

You curl your hand around him instinctively, and you both watch the head of his cock appearing and disappearing in your fist as you stroke him.

Namjoon wraps his hand around yours, uses his other hand to turn the water off.

‘Let’s dry off,’ is all he says.

He wraps you in a towel, grabs one for himself.

The way he tents the terrycloth makes your mouth water.

Lust joins anger in your newly re-acquired library of emotions, and the combination of both is so acutely Namjoon in your experience that you revel in the familiarity of it.

Namjoon dries you off in front of your mirror, and you both watch as he plays with your breasts until you’re breathless.

He spreads your legs, delves his fingers in between, shows you your own arousal coating his fingers.

He’s dropped the towel, his cock nudges between your ass cheeks, the promise of filling you up tantalising.

Namjoon tugs you onto your bed, grabs a pillow, slips it under your hips.

‘Watch,’ he says, voice velvety.

His cock juts from him now, full and hard and seeking, as he lifts your hips and pushes into you.

You grasp the sheets underneath you as he fills you, his hardness thick and hot.

Namjoon snaps his hips forward, and you moan.

‘That’s it,’ he says, his voice thick, slurred. ‘Show me that you like it, baby.’

‘Come close,’ you pant, and he dips his torso so you can curl an arm around his shoulders, hold on to him whilst he fucks you so well everything else falls away from this moment.

There’s nothing but the slap of his sex against yours, his mouth on yours when he finally decides to kiss you, the hot spill of his cum inside you as your cunt contracts to take him, over and over.

There’s nothing but Namjoon, and you, and fuck what a mess you both have made.

‘Happy anniversary, baby,’ he says, face buried in your hair.

There’s the prick of tears in your eyes that you blink away before he can see.

Then, the third emotion, always inextricably linked with Kim Namjoon in your mind.

Sadness, lingering long after the anger and the lust have gone.

#bts smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #kim namjoon

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neonovember · 2 years

Text

Lemon meringues

steve rogers mafia!au

summary: your escape to Brooklyn was harboured by secrets and a harrowed past, left abused and betrayed, you accepted your destiny of being swallowed by the crowd. Until the King of New York showed up in front of you and wanted a piece of you for himself.

a/n: this is the first instalment of a series, I honestly don't know how long it will be, but ill try to update every week!

Your hand reaches to grab the disregarded ceramic mugs perched at the middle of the wooden table, deep mahogany coffee stains the edges of the porcelain mugs and the crumbs of David’s famous croissant litter the table.

“All done here?” You smile, your arm balancing a plate of waffles and toast, you hope to god that they’ll just leave you be, your shift has just begun and the way your back ached had you wishing you’d crawled back under the covers, angry landlord and manager be damned.

The faces of the men that sat nodded, eyes not leaving each other as if you weren't even there. Each of them had the same scruffy 7-day stubble as if they had all collectively chosen to throw out their razors. Trucker caps fitted tightly and flannel shirts peeked through large navy jackets buttoned tight against the harsh July cold. The weather here could get brutal, you’d learned that your first winter with frozen pipes and a heater that spoke only puffs of grey smoke.

They show no action of gratitude, but they don't unnecessarily incapacitate you either, exactly how you like it. Nodding you make your rounds to the other tables, wiping down any remnants of spilt drinks and crumbs from the diner tables and booths. It labourers work, but it's still work. And you don't know what would happen if you lost that measly laughable income you earned from waitressing.

As long as you were far and between from him, you kept reminding yourself, every chime of the diner door opening had your hairs bristling and your stomach in twists, he’d never find you here, he couldn’t, you’d made sure of it. Hell, you’d erased your entire life, left it all behind, he couldn't hurt you now. At least that's what you told yourself.

The white-hot fear still slips down your spine whenever you see a familiar shirt he’d wear though, or a voice that sounded like him when he was mad, or the sound of boots behind you, or- god you’d be in therapy if it didn’t cost you a limb.

The soft downpour outside provided a melodic track to your routine, the sea of blue and navy umbrellas moving in unison to escape the rain. The sound of it put you at ease, you've always loved the rain, the way it slid down your face and washed away all the fears you carried. The smell of the earth after it rained, steam rising from the dirt and roads was something you've come to appreciate.

It was the only things you could, the small things, things that had been taken from you, berated and crushed within his iron grip.

“Why are you wasting time smelling the flowers?”

His voice soon followed your every thought, every move, every desire. As if your mind was asking permission- “Please?”.

You forgot what it felt like to live within a body that was fully yours, and not pinned up with strings that were in his grasp. Now you could stop and raise your face to the sky and let the droplets pepper your skin without fearing the downpour of his anger.

“You silly girl, you silly stupid girl”

Well, at least the one that isn't in your head.

The snap of diner door opens abruptly, slamming against the wall, as an umbrella pops through, your neck bristles with fear, shoulders tense and eyebrows furrowed.

Please no

It's a man, donning a deep maroon velvet coat, the buttons fitted and the material stretched against his chest. His golden locs were smoothed back, a scruff that seemed purposeful lining his jaw, the water from his umbrella runs down its rooves and ridges, gathering at his feet and seeping into the laminate floor. It doesn't matter, it isn’t him.

You quickly dust off your apron, gathering your rags before popping them under the compartment behind the till, the man is perusing through the collection of pastries and breakfast sandwiches displayed in the clear case.

��The lemon meringue is to die for,” You say, smiling at his indecision, You had many like him come in, overwhelmed with the many selections and flavours, not knowing where to begin.

He looks up quickly, eyes racking over your face, his cerulean blues darken for a moment, before a smile cracks over his features.

“That obvious?” He jokes, hands tucked into the pocket of his coat.

“Don’t worry about it, everybody has a first time at something” You reply, fingers wringing as you smile. His gorgeous up close, the kind of features that were clean-cut and old-fashioned. Like he didn't need to try so hard to capture anyone's attention, soft lips curl up as he notices your intense stare, and you quickly shake off your borderline stalker-ish ways.

“Well, in that case, I’ll get the meringue and a club special,” He says, hands coming up to brush through his golden locks dirtied by the rain.

You ring his order through the till, fingers almost missing the keys as you hurry to have him seated, he always hated being waited on, there were countless times when his lack of patience and your tardiness left you bruised and bloody.

The man reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a deep leather wallet, it reminds you of your father and it has you smiling softly. He hands you a hundred-dollar bill, and when you try to hand back his change he stops you with his hands quickly.

The feeling of the rough pads of his fingers shoots an intensity up your arm like you've been shocked and you pull your hand away quickly. The man stares intently at your hands, eyes surveying your frame as he rests them on your face.

“Keep the change..I’m sure” He finally says, hands back in his pocket only this time in tight fists.

You thank him generously, tucking the rolls into your side, tips never seemed to cover enough of your pay, and you think this man may have saved you from sleeping outside.

He doesn't say much, just nods, the same darkened look covering his features as he slides into a corner booth, the downpour above sheathed the morning sky in a deep dark navy. Causing the diner to be cloaked in a shadowed darkness as if it were evening instead of noon. The only thing providing light was the soft yellow overhanging ceiling lamp. It gave it a romantic feel that covered his features in a soft glow, and for some strange reason, you had the urge to know what his beard would feel like between your fingers.

Walking urgently back to the counter, you hand up the man's order for David, indiscretidely asking him to give him extra helpings. You carefully slice a cut of the meringue onto one of the ceramic plates, cleaning the edges and keeping it chilled.

David calls your name, motioning towards the finished sandwich that looked like if you didn't walk carefully it would topple over and onto the floor.

David winks at you, his jet-black hair pulled into a tight bun, the wrinkles around his eyes crinkling as he takes notice of your ulterior motive.

“When were ya gonna tell me about lover boy?” David teases, chin resting on his arms.

“Cmon David, he just gave me a good tip” You scoff humourselly, him? He wouldn't even look at you that way. You knew his type the moment you caught a glimpse of his goddamn cufflinks, besides, the rings adorning his fingers etched with the unmistakable A, told you he was in a business you wanted no part of. You weren't bout to jump into a relationship after just escaping your last, no, you definitely were not ready for that.

Yet a strange filling crept through your stomach, and it had you taking glances at his crouched figure in the booth, he was tall enough to the point where you could see the tussles of his golden locks, now dried and mused.

Snapping out of your stupor, you go to reach for his meal before another hand reaches for it, what is it today and people's hands? Chipped red nail polish and rubbery lips meet your gaze as Caroline smiles up at you.

“Mare’s asking if you could clean up the puddle in front of the diner door, says it’s quote on quote a cleaning hazard” Caroline rolls her eyes, tongue clicking as she shakes her head

“If she cared that much about following protocol she’d pay us a goddamn living wage” Caroline mutters loud enough for yout o hear, cautious of your domineering manager's watchful gaze.

You snicker, reaching for the mop at the corner of the diner,

“Who that?” Caroline says, motioning towards the golden-haired man with her chin, curiosity filling her eyes.

“That, is your customer, who just ordered a meringue and sandwich because of yours truly” You reply, eyes finding their way back to him.

Caroline nods, reaching for the meringue in the fridge,

“He even tipped me like over eighty bucks” You whisper, the reality of it still shocking you

Caroline swiftly turns to you at that, her dark auburn plaits whipping across her chest at her movements

“No shit? Cute and a gentleman, if there is one person in this god-forsaken place who deserves it it’s you” Caroline retorts, a smile lifting her lips.

You shake your head, reaching for the notes tucked in your pocket, Caroline had been your one and only friend besides David, you could count a handful of time’s when she had let you crash at her place or borrow money to tide your landlord over the next month.

It was your duty to give something back.

Caroline stops you gently, pushing the notes into your pocket before she grins gingerly

“Don’t you dare” Caroline begins, eyes darting across to the man in the booth,

“But, you can't possibly expect me not to pay you back” You begin, eyes burrowing as you try again, to hand her over a chunk of the money.

“You need it more than I do, besides you know the saying “reject the present to receive more in the future” Caroline sing songs, you shake your head laughing

“I don't think that’s quite how it goes, in fact, I'm pretty sure you made that up on the spot” You giggle, before pushing her out of the kitchen.

“You're too good for this rotten place sugar, you outta start taking things for yourself, before the world comes and swallows you whole” She replies, not sparing you a glance before navigating through the many red booths.

Her voice echoes in your mind as you clean up the murky water near the front door, watching as the brown liquid on against the laminated floor turns into a clean yellow that came with age and poor maintenance.

You serve half a dozen more customers before Caroline strolls towards you, a hidden smirk on her face with the man’s finished plates.

“What?” You reply, rolling your eyes, wiping down the counter, you always seemed to find yourself cleaning.

“Golden boy asked for you” She’s gone into a full toothy smile now, head lulling to the side as she teases you.

He asked for you? Why would he do that? Maybe he were asking for that tip back, reconciling that you weren't worth it. It wouldn’t be the first time

“Huh? What do you mean?” You cautiously answer Adi, aware of her ability to dramatise quite literally everything that happened between these walls.

“I mean, he asked why you didn’t come and give him his food. Said he was hoping that he could ask you something” She replies eyebrows wiggling playfully, knocking her hips to yours as she purred.

“I see how you play girl, just make him a regular customer why don’t you, I'm sure after the first taste he'll be coming back for more.” She laughed at you widened expression, you winced at her insinuations, you started to believe she wanted you to get laid more than you did yourself.

“Here, he left this” She replied, reaching into her pocket, and pulling out a ruffled tissue, you're expecting a message or a scribble of numbers, yet instead what meets your eye has your heart in your stomach and your fingers gripping your apron.

There written in black ink, is your husband's name, along with a number and one single word.

“I know what you did”.

Fuck.

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leakyweep · 10 months

Text

Doflamingo x Reader - Nightmares

A/N: writing fluffy Doffy is difficult, but man, it is fun. @anon-germany enjoy bb :)

Warnings: just some suggestive content and maybe a small warning for nightmares/past regrets i guess

Words; 0.7k

The absence of your presence in your shared bed bothered Doflamingo, and he had a gut feeling he wouldn't have the best night's sleep with you gone. You had to stay late for work at the bar you were employed, leaving Doffy to a cold, empty bed to fall asleep in.

He had woken in the dead of night by a nightmare, his body shooting upwards anxiously and his heart beating from his chest. He was clutching his sternum, his nails digging into the flesh harshly. Red marks were left in his wake, his breaths coming out in hot, rushed pants.

He was in his head that whole day prior; thinking of his past, his family... and though many days he hid this pain and suffering deep inside that evil body, he was still haunted by his past decisions, making him wonder if they were what should have happened.

But it did happen. And he knew that there was no going back, forcing him to be the emotionless and menacing king that everyone was accustomed to. Even you had seldom seen this side of him; only once before had you seen the man agonize over his past. The next day, he'd acted as if nothing had been said, so you kept it that way. His temper was short, after all. The last thing you wanted to do was unnecessarily make the man insecure.

He shifted his body so his legs were swung over the side of the bed, his feet cushioned by the plush carpet beneath him. He looked around the room, pupils darting to the things he could make out in the dark to try and steady himself. Then, the door opened with a creak, his body tensing. He didn't wish for you to see him so vulnerable and weak, so he opted for a tight smile.

"My darling, I-"

"You don't have to talk about it, love, but I'd like for you to at least not try to act like you're okay. That smile is atrocious." You smiled softly, approaching his large figure and placing your hands on his knees. "You aren't weak for having feelings."

He just dropped his head, a scowl etched into his features. He knew you weren't a fool and cursed you silently for having the sense to know exactly what he was thinking. "Nightmare," was all he grumbled, keeping his gaze to your feet standing between his.

His teeth were gritted as he wrapped his arms around you, burying his head into your chest. He wasn't good with words, so he opted for an action you both knew he needed. He wasn't a soft person, not even a kind one for that matter, so this whole situation was foreign to him.

"I'm here now, and I'm about to take a shower. Would you care to join to maybe... get your mind off?" you smirked, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. He chuckled gently into the soft cotton of your shirt, lifting his head to rest his chin on you.

"You know I would never say no to that..." he husked, his hands that were wrapped around your sides engulfing your asscheeks and giving them a squeeze. You laughed and leaned down to press a kiss to the man's cracked lips.

As you began to get the shower ready, he approached you from behind, placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"You know," he started, his fingers tracing down your curves as you were only in your undergarments, "I don't have nightmares when you're there." His tongue ran down your jugular, making a shiver run down your spine.

"Maybe because we do something else instead of sleeping..." You laughed sweetly, your hands resting on his as they engulfed your waist. He grinned and began to pull your panties down.

"I know you aren't complaining," he rasped into your ear. He would never admit it, but your presence is why he wasn't addled with bad dreams at night, not your body.

He loved your intimate moments together, but he would never forget the nights he would wake up startled and hold you until all his thoughts and senses were consumed by you. He loved to smell your hair, trace the outlines and contours of your body while you slept, unknowingly keeping the menacing and malevolent man in a state of rare peace.

“I’m definitely not complaining,” you replied, stepping into the shower, hand in hand with your love. “now come on, we have some distracting to do.”

#doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x you #doflamingo #x reader #one piece #op #doffy #liv writes #fanfic

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shy-urban-hobbit · 5 months

Text

Modern au Bloodweave!

Mentions of Cazador but nothing explicit.

Astarion stared at the meagre options in front of him. He and Gale had gotten caught in a sudden rainstorm on the way back from a lunch date and as soon as they'd fallen through Gale's front door he'd bustled Astarion upstairs to the main bathroom for a warm shower, taking Astarion's soaked clothes to air dry them in the laundry room and informing him that he was welcome to borrow something of his to wear in the meantime before he went to grab his own shower in the ensuite, "Whatever you feel comfortable in."

Such a simple offer had everything inside Astarion screaming that this was some sort of trap, or test. When he was with Cazador, comfort hadn't come into it. He always had to look his absolute best, even when they were in the house alone, otherwise he risked incurring his exes wrath for embarrassing him by looking "slovenly". He'd grown so accustomed to the tailored, tight fitting trousers and shirts that had become his armour during those years that he wasn't entirely sure what he'd find comfortable anymore.

They were still exploring what levels of nudity Astarion was comfortable with around him and whilst he knew Gale wouldn't expect anything of him if he stayed in just his underwear, Astarion himself felt an old dread stir at the thought - his brain still struggling to separate any level of nudity around another person from the obligation and expectation of sex. He bit his lip, irritated at himself for how anxious this was making him feel. Maybe he should just throw his own definitely still damp clothes back on and head home?

A lump of purple fabric screwed up on the armchair caught his eye. He'd seen Gale wearing it often enough to recognise it as his University hoodie from his student days, the fabric faded and worn and so, so soft as he picked it up and rubbed it against his face. It smelt like Gale and the last hints of whatever washing detergent he'd used.

He took a deep breath and plastered on his default smirk as he made his way into the kitchen, all too aware of how he looked right now - hair all fly away curls and cowlicks with no products to properly tame it, sweatpants hanging off his narrow hips, the university hoodie hanging off him oddly due to Gale's slightly wider frame. He could hear Cazador's voice berating him, calling him all manner of things for daring to let anyone see him in such a state.

Gale turned from where he'd been searching through one of the cupboards and smiled at him fondly, "Well, don't you look cosy. Tea? I got some of that mint blend in that you mentioned you were fond of."

"Well in that case, it would be rude not to darling." Astarion replied, relaxing when he saw that Gale was in a similar state of dress in sweats and an old t-shirt, his hair hanging around his shoulders in damp rat tails.

"Make yourself comfortable in the living room and I'll bring it through."

Astarion perched on the edge of the couch. Like everything else in Gale's home it was soft and welcoming, not a single minimalist sharp edge in sight as he let his gaze wander. Every time he was over here he spotted something new, some book or knick-knack he'd previously overlooked or the other had added to his collection since his last visit. It had become a bit of a private game.

The book on the coffee table was definitely new. An old looking, non fiction hardback the title of which Astarion understood maybe half of the words. He flipped it open and skimmed the first few pages out of curiosity, once he got past the author's apparent habit of being unnecessarily verbose, (he was quite sure the page he'd just read made the same point on six separate occasions, just phrased slightly differently each time) it was actually quite interesting.

He was about ten pages in when he was brought back to the room by Gale setting down a tray with two mugs and a plate of biscuits, despite the fact that they'd just eaten, the minty steam from Astarion's mingling pleasantly with the slightly more earthy smell of Gale's chosen blend.

"Sorry that took so long. Ah, you've found my latest addition. What do you think of it?"

"I think he was desparately trying to make up his contracted word count." Astarion said primly as he set the book down next to him, causing Gale to laugh, bringing his legs up to sit cross legged as he settled into the cushions.

"Yes, he does tend to waffle on, but he was one of the best in his field before he retired."

"Would you mind...reading some to me?" Astarion asked, picking up his mug and staring at the liquid while moving to mimic Gale's position, suddenly shy.

Gale beamed at him, "Of course not." He picked it up from where it lay between them, "Do you want me to start from where you left off or from where I got up to?"

Astarion shrugged to indicate he didn't mind.

He let Gale's voice wash over him as he half lay against him, tea long finished and head covered by the hood of his borrowed clothes. Gale had jokingly pulled it up and over his eyes in response to a sarcastic comment he'd made and while Astarion had pulled it back so he could actually see, he hadn't bothered lowering it completely, liking how the way it blocked Gale out of his periphery made him feel like he didn't have to school his expressions despite the fact that Gale would only have to move ever so slightly to get a very clear view of what he was doing with his face. It was the same vein of logic a toddler follows when playing hide and seek or peekaboo: if you can't see them, they can't see you.

"-rion, Astarion." He wrinkled his nose at the sound of someone softly calling his name and burrowed further into the warmth before becoming aware of the fact that the warmth had a light grip on his hand and was gently moving backwards and forwards along the back of it. He jerked fully awake on instinct, curling in on himself and pulling his hand free roughly.

"Sorry, I'm sorry." Gale said, leaning against the arm of the couch to give Astarion as much space as possible while the other was still pressed against him, "You fell asleep on me and I wasn't sure if it would be worse if I tried to move you or try and nudge you awake or something incase you woke up to find yourself being manhandled given -"

"Given my ever so charming ex." Astarion cut him off, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with a self deprecating laugh now that his heart had calmed after the scare his mostly asleep mind had given him, "I appreciate the consideration darling, truly, but I'm not going to turn into a sobbing mess just because of a potentially rude awakening."

Gale was gracious enough not to call him out on the half lie, even if the critical stare he was gracing Astarion with really wanted to. A stare which softened when Astarion let out a yawn, "Glad to know my reading's so riveting."

"It really wasn't, but it was relaxing. Honestly, you should be flattered." Astarion lay back down, the crown of his head pressed against Gale's leg.

"You're welcome to go lay down upstairs if you want to go back to sleep."

"Oh, don't be so cruel as to make me move when I'm comfortable here, you should join me."

A chuckle from above him, "Join you on the couch I'm already sitting on."

Astarion made a noise like a disgruntled cat, "Pedantic doesn't suit you, Dekarios. I meant join me for a nap."

A pause.

"Alright. How do you want me?"

After some slight manoeuvring Astarion found himself sprawled on top of Gale, the others arms around him in a lose embrace, "You sure this is ok?"

"Absolutely. I think you're my comfiest sleeping spot ever, now hush."

Gale snorted before pressing a brief kiss to Astarion's hair, "Sleep well, sweetheart."

#bloodweave #astarion/gale #astarion x gale #baldurs gate 3 #bg astarion #astarion #bg gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion ancunin

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shares-a-vest · 11 months

Text

@steddie-week Day Six: True

Call him a snap. A lovesick loser. A nerd. A guy who likes fantasy stories and make-believe a little too much. An idiot who is setting himself up for disappointment and heartbreak.

But Eddie Munson believes in True Love.

He has read the stories and been swept up in the romantic plotlines of his favourites. He creates NPCs for his campaigns with unnecessarily detailed backstories with whole lives set out for them. Then he uses them to write poems and short stories he keeps safe in his notebooks for no one to see, where everyone gets a sweeping grand love story and a 'happily ever after' waiting for them by the end.

He's well aware others catch on, especially after he starts dating Steve. Yeah, an actual real-life love story sweeps him off his feet and he lets his guard down. Dustin and Lucas call him, "a pathetic lameoid". Mike and Will descend into a chorus of gagging noises. Even the guys tease him for writing song lyrics featuring admittedly, very obvious saccharine declarations. George will give a "Yuck", Gareth practically sings out his disgusted "Ew" and Jeff gives perhaps the worst reaction of all...

"Eddie... just. No."

Steve might as well be a Prince. Or a Knight in shining armour. A combination of both, maybe? Mixed in with the weapons and demon-slaying expertise of a high-stats Barbarian who runs around shirtless.

When Steve visited him in the hospital, drugged-up delirium had Eddie's mind drifting to fairytales where he lay in a nightmare-riddled slumber as a blood-stained and beat-up version of Snow White or Sleeping Beauty. Just laying in wait to be fixed by true love's kiss.

Steve calls Eddie his Prince sometimes when he's being all sappy and cute. It makes them both blush and giggle because, while it's romantic, it is also Steve trying desperately to sound impressive.

But Steve really is the Prince. Eddie insists on the matter. Even when he arrives at the trailer from a closing shift at Family Video, visibly tired with dark eyes, hair now flat and unstyled with a pained expression on his face as he blinks at a snail's pace.

"Thank god, I'm home" he sighs, voice cracking a little as he sets his keys down on the shelf near the front light switch.

Eddie snaps his book shut (A collection of Grimm Fairytales, no less), feeling all giddy at the thought Steve considers the place 'home'. But his glee doesn't last long as his homebound Prince barely toes off one of his sneakers before he clambers forward, arms unstretched in the direction of the couch.

Eddie catches him - or more, Steve collapses onto the couch and rolls into him.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he panics, brushing back the mop of hair that has flopped in his face.

"I have a headache," Steve groans, talking into his makeshift pyjama top - an old Hawkins Tigers t-shirt, "Started as I was closing up."

Steve heaves his body against the couch, resting his head on the cushion back and screws his eyes shut. He fumbles with the buttons on his polo, failing to get anywhere near unbuttoning them. So, Eddie does it for him, barely finishing on the last one before Steve pops his shirt off and flings it halfway across the room.

Then Steve starts doing the same with his belt and fly as a wash of sickly paleness drains down his pretty face.

"I'll do it," he grumbles, pushing Steve's mighty paws away.

He helps there too, willing away a blush and a dirty joke as he loosens Steve's obscenely tight jeans. He isn't exactly sure how it works anatomically, but he is growing more certain with every headache that these damn jeans aren't doing him any favours (other than giving him a tight little, very squeezable, butt).

Steve puffs out what is vaguely a laugh before he slurs, "Think this is as far as you gonna get tonight, Eds."

He gestures at his underwear peaking out from his undone jeans.

"You want me to run you a bath? Squish you into the teeny-tiny combo?"

Steve sniffs under his arm and grimaces at himself.

"'Kay," he lolls his head back on the couch.

"Anything else?"

"Can you make me some tea?"

"Tea?" he questions.

He can't help it. Usually, he keeps his queries to a minimum when Steve is like this (which has been all too frequent lately) but this is a new request.

"Wayne made me some last week when I had a migraine."

"This is the first I'm hearing of it," he says, and in lieu of a physical presence, he glares at his uncle's recliner chair.

Steve smiles at the ceiling, his eyelids softening with a light flutter as he hums, presumably thinking about this magic tea Wayne is most definitely being interrogated about first thing in the morning.

"'S'nice," Steve shrugs.

"That old man with his tea collection like he's some old English Granny."

"Stops me from feeling sick."

Eddie leans over and pecks his deceptively-hot cheek. Stinky and on the precipice of a migraine or not, Steve is still his Prince Charming. He pauses there. Steve must feel his breath lingering because his lip quirks, threatening a smile and he opens his eyes.

"What?" he asks, a teasing tone dancing in there somewhere as he blinks slowly.

Eddie takes his hand and squeezes it.

"Let me kiss you."

"Okay," Steve replies and puckers his lips without moving an inch.

"True love's kiss will make you feel better, promise," he whispers as he closes the distance between them and presses a soft kiss to Steve's lips.

Steve squeaks out a noise and Eddie can feel his frown as he murmurs, "You're so silly."

#this is pure self-indulgent sappiness sorry not sorry #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #steddieweek2023

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noelwife · 3 months

Text

Tw: sex on call, masturbation and slightly sensitive topics, nothing too much though (English is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes)

The air in the bathroom was humid and the windows in the room were all foggy due to the humidity caused by the shower Noel took not long ago. The bathroom in that hotel was not quite cheap and smelled like a lot of money, which the man didn't like very much but he couldn't do anything about it as his company decided the hotels where the team had to stay while traveling for the matches. Noel lazily dried his short hair and tied a towel around his hips that didn't cover much as he left the warm environment he had created in the bathroom. He hated these rooms, he found the windows huge with a view that was too beautiful, all the furniture too expensive and he didn't even want to think about that bed so unnecessarily large for just one person. Noel took the phone from the cabinet where he had put it to charge and then lay down on that soft bed while he entered the password for his phone. Oh, his wife had texted him. Noel smiled slightly, and thought about how beautiful it would have been if his beloved wife had also come, but unfortunately she refused because she too had commitments and duties at work. Noel quickly opened WhatsApp and then clicked on your contact where a photo and a voicemail from you had been sent. The man expected them to be one of your usual photos where you sent cute photos of your cats, or of the cookies you had baked with the shape of a little heart on them(also sometime with some dick shapes), your plants or that turtle that he hated Noel so much. He didn't know how to feel about that photo you sent him, but it seemed like his cock spoke for him, with the way it throbbed under that white towel. You looked just gorgeous in that photo you sent him, without pants and his shirt that was quite big on you, that beautiful lingerie he bought you not so long ago, white with nice lace designs. You were in front of the mirror, the phone covering your face as you lifted your shirt enough to show those beautiful breasts of yours held by the lace bra, your panties were on full display as they highlighted those beautiful thighs of yours that drove Noel so crazy.

"Fuck"

Noel said as he looked at the photo again, he swore his cock felt tight under that towel. Then he quickly clicked the voice you had sent and listened to it while he felt his saliva running out of breath.

"These lingerie are really cute, love, but they feel a little tight."

And then attached underneath that usual emoji of yours

"😋"

You were unfair, Noel knew how much you loved teasing him when he was away from home, he fucking missed you, especially that beautiful tight pussy of yours that fit around his cock so well. You made him needy. Noel placed his phone on his chest and then stared at his hardened cock hidden under the white towel. He decided to repay you with your own coin, he took his phone back and took a photo of himself which I will then send to you. You were in your bedroom while you ate a box of strawberry and chocolate ice cream, while I watched the fourth episode of the house of the dragon, you shifted your gaze to your phone when its noise caught your attention. You placed the little bit of ice cream you had left on the nearby bedside table and took the phone, oh how nice your husband finally answered you, with a nice photo too. You giggled like a teenager and then turned sideways on the bed and replied to the photo Noel had sent you.

"Damn, what a beautiful cock Noel."

You also wanted to write "very coquette" but the message was blocked by the notification of Noel's video call. You accepted the call only to see Noel's face.

"How's my favorite husband doing? Did you like the photo?"

You said jokingly as you giggled a little at Noel's neutral face.

"Good, I'm fine... yes, you were beautiful. as always"

Noel replied calmly, you swore that his neutrality would sometimes kill you.

"...are you still wearing them?...I mean the underwear...?"

Noel asked, while you smiled on the other side of the camera.

"Yes, do you want to see?"

The man nodded as you adjusted the camera from a better angle, Noel noticed that you still only had on his t-shirt while you lay more comfortably on the bed while showing just a little bit of your underwear.

"Nice isn't it?, but it feels a little tight on my breasts, I think. that I got the wrong size"

I say as I lift my t-shirt and touch my breasts a little to show Noel how tight my bra is.

"Oh fuck the ice cream, excuse me for a moment love I have to put it back if not then it's a mess"

I say as I get up leaving the phone in the place where it was before and putting the ice cream back in its cold environment, I quickly return and take the phone back. Then she noticed with surprise that the perspective of Noel's room had changed. The view was lower and made Noel's abs more visible... and not only that,she also really noticed Noel's cock which was unfairly covered by that damn towel.

"What a surprise Noel, you left not even three days ago and are you already so needy?"

You say jokingly as you put the phone in a little better perspective while you take off Noel's t-shirt leaving you only with your white lace underwear.

"Do you want to see a little more love~?"

Noel doesn't answer you but noticing how he is about to get up so I can take off the towel you interpret it as a yes

"Already so hard for one miserable photo?"

You say when Noel's cock appears in plain sight in front of the camera, you almost missed holding it in your hand. I took off your bra, letting your breasts come out of the tight fabric.

"Yeah, it was a little tight, they left some red marks on me, look."

You say as you showed the red marks to Noel, then snorted a little too. for the relief of being free from that annoying bra.

"When you get back I want to try a good titjob on you, can I?"

Noel nodded as he thought about your beautiful tits that will squeeze his cock, damn if he wanted you to. Noel was never against things you suggested doing with him in the bedroom, as long as they weren't dangerous so he was more than okay with it. He came out of his thoughts as he noticed you taking off your panties and picking up the pillow on Noel's side of the bed.

"What are you doing?"

The man asked a little confused.

"I'm having some fun while my dear husband is so unfairly away from me to please his dear wife"

I say jokingly as I grind against his pillow. Noel swore he was running out of air, it was all too much for him, he hadn't even noticed when she started grinding his cock up and down.

"Would you like it to be your thigh,mhm?"

You say teasing Noel a little as the man only responded to you with a grunt as he masturbated faster. As you continued to swing on his pillow you watched him from the camera, how beautiful his abs were so well worked, maybe you should scold him for not drying his hair yet, you thought to yourself, later maybe.

"Fuck, I'm coming."

You smiled as you you continued with your movements and took one of your breasts with one hand and played with it a bit.

"Yes?, good boy."

Noel was the first to come, with thick streaks of cum while his legs trembled and his breathing was a little irregular. He didn't like coming while masturbating because he didn't find the sensation quite as good as coming inside you. Shortly afterwards you too had your release as you trembled on that pillow, you were so cute Noel thought, and automatically started pumping his cock again. Yes, when he comes back he will make sure to fill up his dear wife with his sperm.

#noel noa #noel noa x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock

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