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owliellder · 9 months

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Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Yay!! New multi-chapter fic in honor of 800 followers!!

I'm a sucker for tropes and mean Leon is one I can't keep out of my head. If you're not good at math then this is the fic for you! (also don't mind me slipping some Sky lore in here...)

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 1

Growing up, college had always been a big dream of yours, leaving you fantasizing day in and out about all the possibilities that would open up, along with actually getting to live through the renowned “college experience”.

In reality, college was a lot harder than you were expecting. Your parents had told you to jump right into it after high school, fearing taking a gap year would ruin your good streak. The stress was starting to get to you and it was only a semester into your freshman year. All the tests, projects, and general studying really wore down on your mental health, not to mention you were failing the one math class you had.

You couldn’t tell your parents, no, they’d probably have a heart attack, especially since that math class was a prerequisite to another class that you needed to take. They were already worried enough that you hadn’t picked a major yet, so who knows how they’d take the news that you were failing right off the bat.

It was hard enough that you were feeling homesick. This was the first time you’d ever been this far away from home, studying at a university when you would’ve been perfectly content going to a community college closer to home. Your roommate was nice, but the two of you weren’t growing any closer than mere acquaintances, so it always felt awkward to just exist in your own dorm room.

Your eating habits worsened with the lack of any real food within five miles of campus. Sure there were a couple fast food chains on the campus itself, but they closed incredibly early. By the time you finished studying, which was around six in the evening, it had already closed. Not to mention that when they were open, the lines were comically long. University food was out of the question after you got violently ill from their “chicken nuggets”, so you were left with the little money your parents provided once a week to order takeout or make quick trips to the store to buy a frozen meal. Only one, since the mini fridge in your dorm was almost always occupied by your roommates stuff.

Everything was so exhausting and you were way out of your comfort zone having to use the community bathrooms for all your hygienic routines. Walking in always made you feel like you were interrupting a meeting in the president’s oval office with how many nasty looks you were given when all you were trying to do was brush your teeth.

The first thing you saw whenever you opened up Canvas was a massive F staring you down from the little box that comprised the majority of your math assignments and tests, making you feel less than worthless. This one semester alone helped you understand why so many people dropped out, this was hard.

By now you’d already gone to your math professor multiple times asking for redos or extra credit work. He was probably sick of seeing you since you showed up after almost every single assignment’s grades were submitted.

“Heeeyyy, Mr. Lebovic..” You said after knocking your knuckle against his open door to grab his attention. “Listen, about that last quiz, I-”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand before gesturing towards one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You hurried to sit down, watching nervously as he slowly pulled his eyes off his computer and onto you. “I get it, you don’t need to explain yourself.” His relaxed tone and faint smile was enough to ease your nerves a bit, letting your shoulders slump with a sigh. “You’ve been trying really hard, I can easily recognize that.”

You nodded eagerly, licking your dry lips as you opened your mouth to speak, only to be cut off again. “I’ve been looking into studying options that might help you. Resources are scarce for this material, but I think I finally have a tutor to help you out.”

A wave of relief washed over you at the mention of tutor. Maybe you wouldn’t have to face the wrath of your parent’s disappointment after all! “Oh.. o-okay…” you stuttered, eyebrows furrowing as you silently beckoned him to continue.

“I teach another math class, it’s higher level, but I have a student in there that’s just taken up tutoring the material you’re learning.” Your professor seemed just as happy as you were about the opportunity. “His name is Leon Kennedy, he’s got one of the study rooms in the library from three to five in the afternoon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

It took you a second to process everything Mr. Lebovic was telling you before you scrambled to pull out a sticky note and a pen to write all the information down on. You heard the older man chuckle softly, looking over at him when he held out a small piece of paper to you. “I wrote it down already for you, don’t worry.” You wished you could’ve thanked him tenfold, but his office hours were closed for the day now, so you said a quick goodbye and hurried back to your dorm, holding onto the piece of paper like a lifeline.

Contrary to what your math professor thinks, you knew the name “Leon Kennedy”. You had a couple friends that you hung out with occasionally out in the grass in front of the science building and they’d brought him up before. The few vague bits of info that you’d heard weren’t flattering, painting this Leon in quite a bad light; the stereotypical jock in a frat flying by on a full-ride scholarship. However, he was your saving grace now and you needed to develop more of an unbiased opinion of him if he was going to help you raise your grade from an F.

“Yeesh, sorry I’m not better at math or I would’ve helped you.” One of your friends, Sky, spoke up as they read the piece of paper your professor gave you yesterday from over your shoulder. “Even if you were better at math, I still wouldn’t trust you.” Ella, your other friend, laughed out.

“Ha ha, yeah, Sky failed math four times. Big whoop.” Sky waved their hands dramatically before walking over to sit down next to Ella in the dead grass. “Seriously though, you’re better off taking a failing grade and dealing with your parents. Kennedy is the devil incarnate.”

“The devil incarnate sounds easier to put up with than my parents, so I’ll take my chances..” You grumbled, taking a seat on a medium-sized rock close to the pair. “Maybe he’s turning a new leaf? Deciding to tutor?”

Sky crossed her arms and rolled her eyes which made Ella elbow them in the side before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Maybe so, but please just be careful. I don’t want you having to put up with some jackass that has an ego bigger than Texas.”

You nodded with a slight frown, moving your foot side to side lazily to push the grass blades around. You didn’t even think to consider the repercussions of studying with some random junior. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. Besides, just tell Sky and I if he’s giving you any trouble. I know damn well no man likes to put up with two women yelling in his face.” Sky nodded and pointed to Ella for added dramatics. “Yeah, and I bite. My top six teeth are porcelain so that shit hurts. Trust me.”

Your friends never failed to make you laugh, a slight resolve in a pool full of worries, you suppose. “Don’t worry, you guys’ll be the first to know if Leon is mean.”

“Good. Now, when’re you gonna go see the guy?” Sky rested their arms on their knees before looking up at you. “Uh.. in a couple hours I guess. I already made the appointment.” Your response seemed to surprise both of your friends, giving them a confused look in response to their shocked ones. “Is that.. Is that not a good time?”

“No no, just.. I thought you would’ve maybe taken a little longer to go and see him.” Ella shrugged, reaching a hand up to scratch behind their neck. “Proud of you, taking the initiative like that.” She then looked at her phone before pulling herself off the ground with a small groan. “I got class in a couple minutes. Good luck with the frat boy.”

She patted your shoulder as she walked off towards the larger building on campus, leaving you and Sky alone for the rest of the time. Part of you wished both of your friends could walk you to the library when the time came, but having Sky was enough. “So.. Leon’s bad bad?” You needed a bit more clarification on the guy you were going to spend one-on-one time with, something to calm you down after running through countless scenarios in your head.

“He’s not all bad, 'least I don't think. I’ve exchanged a few ‘hello’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ with him here and there since we apparently frequent the same building.” Sky scooted over to the rock you were sitting on, placing the back of their head on your legs. A couple brown leaves blew over from a nearby tree which they grabbed and crunched with their hand. “I haven’t personally experienced any bad happenings around him, but he is part of a pretty notoriously rowdy frat, so you have to promise me that you’ll only study with him on campus and never go to that frat house or any frat house in general, alright?”

Sky pointed up at you, poking the underside of your chin which made you laugh again and swat their hand away. “As much as I rave about wanting to have the stereotypical college experience, going to a frat house was never part of my daydreaming.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” They switched their fingers to give you a quick thumbs up before letting their arm flop down into their lap, eyes closing with a sigh. “Anyways, besides all that, wanna go get some food? I don’t have another class today and you’ve got about an hour and a half to spare, so actually you have no choice. Get up.”

You stood up with a shake of your head once Sky pushed off of your legs who stood up as well with a small stretch. “Don’t burn me at the stake, but I kinda want grocery store sushi. I’m feeling lucky.”

“Please don’t.” You sighed, pocketing the piece of paper before beginning to follow behind Sky as they started to walk across the grass.

After the two of you shared a sandwich from some random shop not too far off campus, Sky walked with you up to the library, stopping just before the front desk. They agreed to not wander in with you under the condition that you’ll go to their dorm straight after to discuss details.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Most of what you heard about this guy meant he was bad news, though you really didn’t have much of a choice when it came to seeing him. Like your math professor said, there weren’t a lot of options when it came to studying the material you were learning. Sure you had the internet and other students in the class, but you preferred the idea of a tutor since you’d already exhausted yourself trying to follow along with various youtube videos. You needed the in-person teaching, it just stuck better in your head that way.

Slowly starting to walk, you made your way over to the study rooms lining the back of the library. The rooms seemed pretty private with the only window being on the door, which had glass nearly top to bottom. Thankfully the rooms were numbered and Leon had texted you which room to go to when you made the appointment with him, you had no idea what he looked like and you didn’t want to look like a creep eyeballing people through the door until you hopefully found the right person.

Standing off to the side, you could see the number you were looking for sitting above the door, taking a brief moment to collect yourself and hype yourself up to talk to someone who didn’t have the greatest reputation. Set aside everything you’ve heard and just hope for the best..

You took in a deep breath as you strode over to the door, glancing inside through the window before knocking to let him know you were there. The table was angled off more to the left so you didn’t immediately see him until he leaned over the table to see who had knocked. Confidence left you as soon as you made eye contact with Leon due to the groan you could hear through the door. It took you a couple seconds, but you eventually managed to get your body to work with you, hand turning the handle to let yourself in.

“-the last thing I need..” You caught the end of his little rant to himself as you opened the door. The saying “fake it ‘till you make it” is harder than it sounds since your entire body decided to betray you, deciding that shrinking in was the best move. Quietly, you shuffled over to sit across from him at the table, placing your backpack in your lap in some weird way to provide comfort in this situation.

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Leon grumbled, sitting far back in the tilted chair as his feet lifted the front end of the chair slightly. His arms were crossed and he was giving you probably the nastiest look you’ve ever seen, next to your parents, of course. All you did was sit there giving him a blank stare. It was obvious what he’d said, yet the sheer forwardness of that snide comment had you more than confused. “What?-”

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Apparently he felt the need to repeat himself with some added bite, barely letting you get a word in. “No one ever shows up to these shitty tutor- whatever the fucks.”

Wow. Okay. “Uh..” You didn’t even know what to say to that. It completely caught you off guard. You’d run through countless ways this interaction would go in your head, but this wasn’t one of those ways. The two of you sat in a very tense silence with Leon just glaring at you from across the table, continuing to rock back and forth in the chair.

Without uncrossing his arms, Leon lifted a hand and waved it around slightly while shaking his head. “Are you actually still gonna sit here orrr…?” The sound of his voice finally snapped you out of shock, causing you to shoot your gaze down to your backpack, fumbling with its partially broken zipper. “I-.. Mr. Lebovic recommended you..?”

You pulled out a few of your failed assignments from your bag before setting them down on the table with shaky hands, keeping your eyes glued to the papers to avoid that burning stare the man in front of you has. “I need-.. I need help..?”

“Do you?” Leon let the chair fall forward, his sarcastic tone starting to make your whole body tremble. “You don’t sound like you do.” He snatched one of your assignments from the table and held it up, pursing his lips as he studied the various red marks made on it closely. You chose to not respond to that, letting your hands rest on top of your backpack so you had something to squeeze.

He turned the page around, the sound of the paper wobbling the only thing you could hear right after the sound of the central heat blowing through the vent in the room. Suddenly, Leon started chuckling to himself, shaking his head incredulously as he flipped the paper back and forth a couple times before letting it fall back to the table. “This is terrible!” His laugh grew louder as he tilted his body to the side to pull out his phone, taking a picture of the assignments you’d put on the table.

How on earth were you supposed to react to that other than just sitting quietly? He was actually making fun of you right to your face. Hell, he might as well point and laugh if he’s going to be this brasen.

The most you could muster up was a quiet yet high-pitched “... huh?” in response to him. This whole ordeal was spiraling a little too fast for you to keep up with. You were expecting to put up with some grown man with a bratty attitude or even just a very uninterested, not all there jock with how Leon’s been described to you, not blatant bullying.

“Huh?” He mocked, taking one last look at his phone while loudly sucking on his teeth before pocketing it again. “Anyways, this is actually sad. How are you managing to fuck simple math up like this?” He roughly grabbed all the papers on the table and stacked them before partially tossing them back at you, some slipping onto the floor. “You’re too far gone, even I can’t fix that.”

You let out a gasp when the papers were tossed at your face, scrambling to catch some of them. Pushing the chair back, you leaned over to grab the few that fell on the floor, desperately holding back tears. “Please, you don’t understand.” You pleaded, voice cracking as you tried your best not to start crying in front of him. “I-I need to pass this class. I’m passing everything else, I just can’t keep up with this one!” You were speed-talking to try and argue your case, sitting back up with the small pile of papers that you struggled to stack properly.

Leon started rocking back in his chair again, arms back across his chest as he watched you with squinted eyes. The corners of his lips soon turned up into a smirk, taking in your sorry state before rolling his eyes with a dramatic groan. “Alright, alright, stop whining, jesus..” He cleared his throat, letting his head fall over the back of the chair. “I’ll help you only because I feel bad for you.” It’s not like he was going to admit that he was being forced to be a tutor, no one needs leverage over him like that

You couldn’t help but give a small smile despite his implication. It was a start. “And I’m not gonna do it today, either.” Well, the sooner the better, but still, it’s a start.

He then stood up from the chair, fixing his jacket with a sigh. “If you show up even a minute late on Friday, I’m not helping” and before you even had a chance to reply, he walked out of the room, the door shutting with a slam which made you flinch. Luckily, you were a very punctual person when it came to this kind of stuff. This was important, so if you had to show up early, so be it. You hurriedly shoved your assignments back into your backpack, not even fully zipping it up before rushing out of the study room, back through the library, and to the dorms.

“He said that?!” Sky yelled, quickly wiping their hand over their mouth to quiet themself once you shushed them. “I don’t really feel comfortable with you going to another ‘study session’ with that guy if he’s just gonna bully you.”

“I wouldn’t call it bullying-”

“He was bullying you.”

“OKAY! So what if he was?!” You fell back onto Sky’s bed with a sigh, arms splayed out with your legs dangling off the side. “I can handle it. As long as I get my grade up, who cares?”

Sky sat down next to you on their bed, giving you a sad look as you sat yourself up with your elbows. “I care. So does Ella. You shouldn’t put up with that just for a grade. I’m sure if you explain to your professor and-”

“And what? Tell him that I’m a grown woman getting bullied over something I should know by now?” You sat yourself up fully now, leaning forward to place your elbows on your thighs as your head rested in your hands. “It’s only until finals are over and we’re already halfway through October. Maybe I won’t even need that much time, maybe I’m just missing one simple… math move and it’ll get the gears in my brain moving again.”

You tilted your head to the side to look at Sky, head now resting only in your right hand as you took in their annoyed look. “Trust me. I can handle this.”

“If you say so.” They ran their fingers through her hair before looking away from you, directing their attention forward to stare off at nothing. “Just remember that I bite and I’m not afraid to use my fake chompers on that no good-”

“I don’t wanna think about escalations right now, but thank you.” You chuckled, playfully nudging Sky with your free hand before moving it back to hold your head up with the other. Though you were trying to convince Sky on this, you were mostly just trying to convince yourself that you could handle this. Handle Leon and his.. alluring charm..

Only until finals, maybe even sooner.

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ceridescent · 11 months

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carribean summer heat — m., wanda

wanda maximoff x female!reader

summary: it's a lovely sight to see wanda maximoff sweating and blushing due to the tropical heat. sometimes it's tricky, because one moment she looks like a baby, and the next, well...you could ask the particular group of people who...but you suppose not. it's impossible they could have seen the hot flush on her cheeks as she handled you then and there, out in the open.

warning/s: top!wanda, bottom!f!reader, dom/sub dynamics, thigh riding, dirty talk, semi-public, mommy kink, use of strap-on, creampie, & teasing.

word count: 4, 300

author’s note: hiiiiii hiiii hiiii i'm so happy i finally have some content to post on my rotting account. ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶ (i did have multiple drafts but i forgot tumblr existed 'cause i had off notifs the whole time since may.) it was a giddy, high school girl crush feeling of me to write this filthy fic. (/▽＼*)｡o○♡ i hope everyone's having a wonderful Hot Girl summer!! or a Hot Slutty summer, whichever you prefer. o(>ω<;)o

18+ only. men and minors do NOT interact.

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the sun rays barely strike your tanning skin, serving only as an illumination toward the breathtaking view of the caribbean sea as you situate on the patio.

three ivory-colored recliner beach chairs are included in the rental villa, wherein you occupy one whilst the woman who flew a helicopter in saint-barthélemy island, makes piña coladas in the kitchen. a few hours ago you woke up earlier than her, and it was a relieving feeling, of hearing the rise and fall of her breath. a pink blush coated her entire face, unused to the tropical weather. hair stuck on the oval of her face, grinning at how baby-ish she looked. you didn’t bother rousing her though, as you were both selfish for being the sole witness of the rising sun behind the full glass window of the villa, and considerate to allow her more time to rest.

not long after though, she woke up moaning your name, rubbing a whole limb on the empty space you left behind.

“you left me,” wanda whined, her eyes glazed and her red lips pouty.

“they gave us fresh coconuts,” you purred, showing her the fruit. helping her sit up on the white mattress, you plant a chaste kiss on her cheekbone. this feels like a true vacation, you thought to yourself, appreciating the beach elements surrounding the entire villa, and the hard-to-miss view of the sea outside. although, the other thing that left you breathless was wanda’s bare breasts, the only clothing clinging onto her body was the thong she changed into right after she showered last night.

you rested the open edge of the coconut in between her lips, “here,” tipping it upward so she could drink the coconut juice. wanda’s eyes fluttered close, a long and pronounced moan gracing your ears. she covered your hands with her own to hold the fruit, gulping the liquid into her parched mouth. she sighed as she finished, looking at you with a twinkle in her eyes.

she suggested, “we can eat the insides for breakfast, honey,” bending low toward the bedside to fetch her matching bra. you blushed at the recollection of last night. “i’m sure they have some honey in the kitchen somewhere…” you added, watching the tips of her peaks disappear into view.

wanda teased, “you like what you see?”, lightly slapping your face in the process in a playful manner. you tried to forget how her plump breasts felt in your hands as you suckled her dry, returning into the present moment of the beautiful day.

“i would like to eat,” you diverted the topic back into the fruit in your hands, which wasn’t successful as wanda raised an amused brow, pursing her lips together to fight back a smile. you pointed to the coconut to counter her silent reproach, giving her a light blush. “get your head outta gutter, ma’am,” you said and retreated to the kitchen before she could come up with a witty remark, which you’d most likely shut her up with a kiss.

wanda hums the tune from maroon 5’s sunday morning as she exits the indoor, clutching a wooden tray filled with food and replenishments. a board of charcuterie sits in the middle of the two piña coladas. you gasp at the precise detailing, “i’m not done,” blinking your eyes in anticipation, revealing a coconut with a straw strapped to the side. wanda caresses your hair, gives you a kiss on the forehead as you look up at her adoringly. “help yourself, angel,” she said before pecking your cheek. you mewl and melt at her service, appreciating the beautiful woman even more.

the drinks are astounding, satisfying your thirst for something cool in this caribbean summer heat, as well as your insufferable stomach—literal paradise—blinding your attention away from the oval-rimmed eyeglasses, but most especially, her gorgeousness in a bikini. “is that-“

wanda maximoff grins like a cheshire cat, “yes, angel, it’s the one you picked for me!” sometimes wanda does it, she sends you a fitting room pic of her in bikinis—and if you were blessed enough—lingeries—needing a different perspective of what looks flattering on her.

this particular bikini that clings onto her glistening skin is a green tie-front bandeau matched with a thin-string bikini bottom that leaves little to no imagination; highlighting the fullness of her hips down her voluminous thigh. her exposed tight stomach that has a small bruise on the side of her belly button, the heavy cups of her chest. you love how wanda never fails to wear something as if she was born with it and that it never leaves her skin.

you don’t realize until later that your mouth hangs open watching wanda cozy herself onto the beach chair next to you, laying it all out for the sea to see.

“oh,” you choke on your own spit, sight glued onto her cleavage. and if temptation could get any worse, sweat trickles down on the valley of it, getting envious (and more) of how close it is to where you want to be. stammering “you look-l-look-so look so marvelous, w-wan,” you gulp down your insistent saliva and grab the cool piña colada, biting hard on the straw as you sip in the flavor to replace the volcano on your tongue, before saying another that would jeopardize this peaceful, sunny day. (although it isn’t bad if it heads toward that direction.)

“you’re sucking so hard on it, princess,” wanda chuckles, “is it that tasty?” facing you now, leaning her weight against her right arm. her cleavage sag toward gravity, you fear it might actually fall off. short-circuiting for a moment, registering her question, her intention, and her innuendo. trying to calculate and rethink your response as you now, gently, sip the straw, sensing the coolness of your throat and skin, staring at the vast sea.

you turn your gaze on her nose, so wanda would think that you are brave enough to have a staredown with her striking olive green eyes. then you take another hard sip, hollowing your cheeks in the process, at the same time moaning loudly, rolling your eyes back. “oh yes,” you sigh, “it tastes so good, wan! would you like some?”

she grins like a proud mother, “yeah,” reaching for the other glass but you swat her hand away. “nuh-uh,” you spurn, shaking your index finger whilst you stand up from the chair. you take three slow, deliberate steps sipping on the cocktail, not breaking eye contact with her. wanda watches every move in a relaxed position, however, her eyes carry primacy and eagerness—she’s like a hawk with it.

you bat your eyes at her as you lower yourself down, dipping one knee on the beach chair in the open space of her glistening legs, at the same time resting the piña colada on the wooden tray. wanda scoots facing you, realizing what is up your sleeve. a shiver runs down your spine when she holds your love handles, positioning you in place. you swear to not have done anything but sit, like a moan, when she plops you down against her lap, her grip on your knees reluctant as if she’s trying not to clench on you too hard.

wanda’s specs tumble out of place for a second ‘cause you clip the loose strands of blonde hair behind her ear, taking your time. she whines, “i’m getting so thirsty!” jerking your body up and down, making your legs quiver, the friction of your cores heating your bundle of nerves.

sticking an index finger against her complaining lips only to pinch her jawbone to force an opening, without saying a word, you connect your mouth with hers, slowly pushing out the piña colada into her “parched” throat.

wanda flutters her eyes close and hums at the sensation, gulping it down, caressing your back in the process. sluggish and soft, fingertips against your shoulder blades. upward your hair, combing through them. and finally, your neck, massaging your nape in circular motions.

when you pull away you return a soft smile, giddy and grateful, reaching for the glass to give her some more. wanda’s wandering hands begin to become playful, toying with your bikini strap, stretching the fabric just to let it strike your skin. you hiss, slapping her hands away, yet she reprimands you with a smack on the ass. you sigh in relief for not having anything in your mouth.

more perspiration covers her milk skin, moaning at the liquid tantalizing her throat, and you who cannot help but bounce against her, the heat crawling through your body caused by not only the tropical heat of the island.

“princess, wanda whines, pushing your hips hard to stop you from bouncing like a bitch in heat, “what is it?” acting as if she doesn’t know what you’re asking for. “do you want to ride my thigh?”

or maybe she does.

nodding eagerly, you slide your hands over wanda’s arms to intertwine fingers, descending to land on her thigh. “don’t let me go,”

wanda shakes her head, relaxed, rubbing her thumb over, “how am i going to play with your nipples then, honey?”

that particular sentence made you grind hard on her, your pussy throbbing in anticipation. it’s all up to you though, so you begin to feel her voluptuous thigh at home between your legs, at home to be used by your needy pussy. “let me play with them, yeah?”

you allow wanda to let go of your hands, although it doesn’t stay dangling and out of place. she puts them around her waist, “there. so you have something to hold on to,” gathering your hair around her grip. “get on it, little girl. give me a great view.”

you do as told.

somehow, you always need wanda’s approval and permission before doing something that includes her, because it’s different with her. you utterly have faith that she would keep you safe, because most exciting things are dangerous. you become your truest, unapologetic self with her, dependent and clueless. wanda adores it, serving you, treating you like a princess.

hoarsely, “there we go, nice and slow for now, huh?” wanda stares at your whole frame, your legs automatically spreading wider, draping over the chair. she bites her lip, dragging her fingers over your thighs, as you increase your pace. you squeal, pressing your clad pussy against her thigh, “that’s what i’m talking about, baby. make yourself feel good for me,” whilst wanda encourages you with hunger.

you whimper, watching her watch you. blood rushes into your cheeks, bowing down to relieve the tension of being under wanda’s gaze, still unused to the pierce of her green eyes. you only look back when she begins fiddling with your top straps, teasing you with her next move.

you believe you know what’s about to happen and yet she lets them go, cupping your tits with her hands, kneading them into her calloused palms. you topple over at the pleasure, and she holds you up with your breasts, almost crushing them. the action causes you to let out a high-pitched whimper, casually rubbing yourself to take off the insufferable itch in your clit.

“oh god,” you sob when wanda pries the cups open without taking the top off, only setting them aside, as if she’s washing off sand from a seashell with her slender hands. “oh, oh!” feverishly you buck your hips, and “wanda!” a scream follows as she steps on her heel, her thigh going on a slope.

“that’s my pretty girl,” wanda husks, “keep moaning for me,” encouraging you. a simultaneous long moan erupts from both of you as she pinches your peaks, rolling them in between her fingers. a hungry grunt vibrates through her before diving into your tit, sucking it full with her mouth. your hand goes straight through her blonde hair, gripping it through the scalp, and then her shoulder where you find better leverage.

“that’s it-“ wanda huffs, “g-good, good, my good girl,” lost in the pleasure of sucking your chest. “yeah baby come for me-“

wanda guides your hips, setting a quick, solid rhythm. she pulses her heel up and down, and then it hits you,

“come for me, pretty girl. come for mommy-“

screaming and thrashing on top of her.

you crash against her chest, quivering all over, moan after moan tumbling out of your mouth, your hips still moving but at their own accord, with wanda’s hands resting on your buttcheeks. wanda hums when you quiet down, the vibration reaching your nipples, grazing you with a scream, cum dripping out of you. “dirty,” you mewl, referring to your soaked and sticky bikini bottom

wanda groans, “all mine,” palming your pussy through it, shoving her lips onto yours. you happily obliged, probing your tongue in her mouth, which she gladly accepted. massaging them together, suckling, and then nipping her lower lip, brushing your noses together.

“mhm!” you squeal as you pull away, giving wanda a radiant smile. she pinches your cheeks and pecks your nose. “okay then!” she claps her hands together, an eager woman with a plan. she kisses the side of your neck just below your ear. she pulls you away from her, settling you down in between her legs.

she gets up, get cozy, princess, mommy’s just gonna take something inside, okay?”

“mommy,” you whine, “can i come with?”

“no no, princess. it’s a surprise for you, okay? i’ll be back before you know it!” and then she’s gone.

you probably should have added “please” then she would’ve surely brought you in with her. but you do entertain yourself with the little time alone: rearranging glasses back in place, disregarding your wet bottom because wanda would take it off as usual, and finish the cocktail. you also spooned a bit of the coconut’s inside.

a loud chatter pulls you away from your little bubble, a group of people jet skiing echoing through the space. multiple arms wave in your direction, a booming “HELLO” as you wave back, blush coating your cheeks. you push your legs tight together. realizing the openness of the patio, you make a double take behind the place wanda has disappeared off, knowing that there’s more to come out of after your stunt, and most especially that you have brought her dominant side out here.

you drink wanda’s piña colada to pacify your nerves.

wanda isn’t scary, per se, she just gets super duper mega hot and towering—sometimes to the point of la petite mort—but this time the possibility of somebody else kayaking their way into your location makes you palpitate.

kayaking, the deliberate effort of rowing through this calm ocean—the agonizing trail of the canoes—it is something worse than a damn jet ski. this is driving you crazy!

“i’m sorry for the long wait, my darling. mommy couldn’t find it for a while ‘cause she’s thinking about you…”

you take a huge gulp, refusing to look at what's behind you. a hand ghosts on top of the beach chair. “it’s okay, wanda, i like the view here…”

“i know, princess. but it’ll look nicer if you see what mommy packed for you!”

this is her cue to come forward, blocking the peaceful view of the sea, showing her thick strap. you roll your eyes back, trembling all over, making her chuckle at the expected reaction, taking your hand to stroke her cock.

“i love the sound of your whimpers, baby. shows how much effect i have on you,” wanda husks, her desire of giving it to you palpable, because she dirty talks her way into your pussy as she does so. you gasp, “it’s big,” gripping the tip, feeling the faux veins coating the shaft. “you can take it, princess. i know it.”

“i don’t think so…” you dissent, shaking your head, at the same time anticipating it. but surely you can’t take it in you, it’ll hurt so bad. wanda shakes her head and palms your drenched clothed pussy before setting it aside.

she puts a finger in without warning, making you arch your back, a cry “mommy!” leaving your shocked mouth.

“now you’re calling me mommy,” she gives you a disapproving look, but urges you on smiling at the motion of you sucking her middle finger in fully without resistance. “i knew you’d be so wet, so i didn’t bring any lube.”

wanda takes her finger out and puts it in her mouth, moaning at the sweet taste of your cum. “mmm, i might just have to eat you out instead. would you want that, my princess?”

you nod your head rather aggressively, your face contorted in desperation. anything not to take her monster dick. however, wanda must’ve noticed your not-so-subtle calculation because she changes her mind, shaking her head, trying to hide her cheshire smirk.

“no,” she hum, “i think my tongue can wait for this sweet pussy. ‘cause then what’s gonna keep my baby girl’s boobs occupied?”

a squeal leaves your mouth as wanda drags your legs to the edge until it’s draping off the chair. you stick your legs together in the wind, your cum glistening on your pussy. wanda traces the slick that coats your inner thigh, just to get a rise out of you. she bites her lip in anticipation as she lubes her cock with your pussy juice, rubbing the tip over your clit.

“fuck,” she moans, “listen to it,” slapping it the toy against your pussy. “mommy,” you could only respond, already over the whole teasing fit. “please!”

“please what, princess?”

“plea-pl-“

she chuckles. wanda groans as she lines her cock in your opening, “use your words, darling. makes it easier for us,” waiting for you to vocalize.

you fling your hand forward to intertwine them with hers. “please fuck me, mommy. pleaseplease fill meplease!”

wanda whimpers.

“that’s my good girl.”

she enters you slowly, encouraging you to take deep breaths as she spreads your hole, tearing you open to get used to the size. your brows knit together at the sharp pain, mewling at the sensation. wanda peppers kisses all over your neck and jaw, distracting you from the initial process, “hey, hey, baby. it’s okay, mommy’s here–mommy will take care of you.”

your “thank you” gets swallowed by her lips, capturing yours in a languid tango, firm and warm in the tropical heat. your eyes flutter close alike battling sleep as, fighting the urge to just stay open because if you stare long enough at wanda’s eyelashes, you would be able to count them, but you settle with feeling it caressing your cheekbone. she breathes you in with each inhale, her hands coming to your cheeks to get a hold of you even more. you let out a keen for the numerous times she bites your lip, sliding her tongue in when you moan at the first thrust.

you break the kiss, “mommy,” giving her a pleading look. “please.”

she presents you a peck and nods her head, “oh yes,” beginning a pace. “is that okay, princess? does it hurt?”

“little only now, mommy. i like it,” you reply, taking her tongue in yours again.

“yeah?” she pulls away from the kiss, “you like mommy grinding down on you?” pushing in her length harder, her pace controlled. you hear the beach chair thud against the movement. your tits bounce at the same time, whimpering, tugging her hand, “faster please-“

“no, no. mommy’s gonna take her time, my love. i need to feel every inch of you before we get back. fuck! i’ve never fucked you in a bikini! it’s been in my bucket list for months now and i could finally-!”

wanda finds her pace, a grunt leaving her, pumping deeper into you, “-do this!” a cry leaving your swelling lips as your back arches in the process, her cock stuffing you full. “thank you, feels so good,” you slur, eyes rolling back, seeing the blue of cloudy skies. you think you begin to drool.

wanda makes an incoherent statement, her lower lip bitten to hold back her moans. a bucket of sweat forms on her forehead, little bubbles that slide down through her forehead and blushing face. her hair tangles in knots like a wet mop, clinging against her back.

her hands slither through your body, tracing patterns on your stomach, playing with your belly button. “you’re welcome,” she sighs, “anything for my favorite lady,” whispering over your ear, her hot puffs making your spine quiver. she nibbles your earlobe.

and your neck, sinking her teeth into flesh, planting a bruise, gripping your waist tight to pull you forward to meet her pounding. “ah fuck, wanda!” you yelp, as she stretches your pussy hole open and full. bucking her hips with no abandon, chasing that high that belongs in between your legs, her primal urge to please you—to hear you scream her name in your favorite vacation spot—to make you come apart only for her to build you back up.

“oh baby, uh,” wanda keens, clipping her hair out of the way of seeing you fucked out, “play with your tits, y/n. come on, please! show me your pretty bits,”

a high-pitched moan sounds out of you from wanda’s desperation, mimicking her movement a sex ago, setting your cups to the side. your fingers shake as you pinch and roll your nipples, your moans getting higher and prolonged the more you tug at them. your whole body spasms, thrashing under wanda who makes it her life’s mission to make you come around her cock.

you hear her chuckle close to your ear, licking a column of your neck, peppering kisses down onto your chest, replacing your fingers with her lips and tongue.

“so hard, so ha-“

“harder!” you sob, jackhammering your hips to meet hers, every snap ending with the sound of your juices thwacking around wanda’s big dick.

“hey, hey, princess look,” wanda slaps your face lightly to catch your attention, at the brink of tapping out, your brain unable to cope up with the situation anymore. you push your hoods open—screaming at the shock—the sight of wanda’s bare breasts bouncing up and down, looking so supple and fresh.

“mommy,” you whine, “i wanna suck you,”

how you managed to let that out you don’t know.

wanda whimpers, “oh baby,” purring as she downs her pace, “here princess,” taking one tit and holding in front of your mouth, “suck mommy good yeah?”

you only nod your head, speaking less to more. your mouth envelops in the hard peaks of the older woman, flicking it with your tongue before you actually suck it. wanda lets out a shaky breath, “y-yeah princess. be a good girl for mommy-“ driving her cock in your wet cunt in one swift thrust, frantic to hear you once more.

“y/n!” wanda writhes, the only leverage she has over you is her hands clenching your sides, “fuck fuckfuck me- mommy’s so close princess-!” screaming along with you.

“mommy, mommy,” you slur, attempting to wrap your legs around her waist but it’s too imposible with the energy you have. although wanda takes notice, helping you, wrapping one leg around her, whilst the other takes your hand the way you intended to in the first place. “yes, princess. mommy’s clo–come with me, please? come with me m’kay?”

repetitive words tumble out of wanda’s lips with the way her mind untangles as well, lost in the pleasure of having you fucked brainless. her tit falls off your mouth when you fling your head back, nearing into your climax. one more thrust—

a familiar loud chatter enters your hearing, pointing toward your direction, wanda noticing the same thing as she pauses for a beat, and before shame could creep into your head, she jolts her hips recklessly, fucking you with a few visitors.

“fuck yeah? we got an audience, baby. better give them our best sho-“

wanda chokes out a sob the same time as you, convulsing and trembling together at the climax. multiple expletives grunts out of her filthy mouth, complementing your sputtering.

wanda screams the same time as you do, crashing together. multiple expletives come out of her filthy mouth, complementing your whiny sounds.

“m-mommy!” you whine, drool dripping out of your mouth, “please–“ wanda grinning down at you, the loud chatter that once was powerful now weak and non-existent. “yes princess?” she purrs, washing the orgasm out of you. “i think you made them shut up, baby,” she chuckles breathlessly, her face red and wet. “but…we’re not done yet.”

you whine, exhaustion already painted all over you. “nope,” wanda pops the p and fixes your disheveled hair. you look so fucked out, not even a workout excuse is going to hide that.

“i just…” wanda takes her time to come up with something, a sugarcoated truth, maybe? or a white lie?

“…i wanna put all my cum inside you,” she lets out quietly, batting her eyes at you.

you cry with your legs spread open and shaking, ropes of cum filling your pussy hole. wanda giggles and moves her cock in a sensual pace, making sure nothing goes to waste.

“i’m so full mommy!”

“so full of my cum! how does it feel being filled with cum, huh, princess?”

you can barely open your eyes at this point, but wanda insists, slapping your face lightly to catch your short attention span. “you like it?”

“yes, mommy. makes me wanna suck you,” you whimper as wanda moans. “i’ll fuck my cum in you some more and then i’ll get to fuck your face?”

“yes, you offer breathlessly, drifting off. she takes your chin so you could face her, “no, no,” giving you a demanding look, “yes what?”

she puts her thumb in your mouth and you automatically suck. “yes, mommy.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #marvel smut #wlw smut

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catcrumb · 1 year

Text

CATCRUMB FIELD NOTE 3

(Note 1:)

going out to the grave oak grove today for sediment collection + trap check

arrived at Grave Oak Grove with little incident

sediment churn +2% in shaded grove areas. inhabitants have been raising carrion again

lumch break 12:13

LEAVING EARLY DUE TO ATTEMPTED BURYING. BY NEW BEAST. SKETCH:

[hasty black ink sketch of a dark silhouette of a furred creature with tall ears and a long tail, leaping across the note with paws in front of it]

digging claws, tufted ears, long bushy tail

back in van. can hear it trying to get under hood. car isn't starting

(Note 2:)

It's in

I'm out of the dirt. Night now. Feeling weaker. Tree above me heavy with acorns. Took some for sample. Scratches all over me. Grave dirt everywhere. No sign of the creature but some tracks. [sketch of a paw with visible claw marks]

(Note 3:)

Back at base. Took a nap. Feel a bit better. Can't stand up for long w/o feeling dizzy. Going to spend day analyzing acorns + soil.

Calls aren't connecting. Judging by scratches, might be same beast. Cool cool cool good

Better sketch: [a sketch of the same creature with much more definition, a small oval head and a sloping back, with a curled proboscis under its snout]

Features:

needle proboscis, like an over grown mosquito

muscled powerful forelimbs with massive sharp claws.

hind legs more for jumping.

BIG.

(Note 4:)

Holing up in the attic - figured it'd be better to get away from the ground. Found these notes in the desk up here. Worrying

(Note 5:)

[a blank ink sketch of the same creature but by a different artist this time. it looks similar to the other sketches but there is more definition to it: more fur, more coherency to the way it is shaped. it looks like a creature that can dig and attack. it is labeled "fig 1." a closeup of a curled proboscis is in the corner, labeled "fig 2."]

(Note 6, written in a different hand than the other notes:)

A Tumulus Lynx (Fig 1) bound to the nearby Grave Oak Grove has been stalking the station for the last 6 days. It already made an attempt to bury me beneath the central Grave Oak. I managed to fight it off, but have not gone out since. I'm going to make a break for my jeep at daybreak. Leaving these notes for any future researchers in case I cannot get this station abandoned, whether through the guild's stubbornness or my death. If you see this animal, VACATE ASAP. It will only grow bolder after its first taste of marrow. -- M. Shadow

(Note 7, back to the original hand:)

Going to try and leave at dawn. Can't do much else - don't have any water left. Leaving these with the other notes. -- C. Crumb

#crumb #thanks to my beloved friend (the real M. Shadow) for helping me out :~)#i don't know how/if i should tag this.#unreality #horror #???

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cherrycola27 · 1 year

Text

Red, White, and Rooster

Master List

Series Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption. Frenemies to lovers, relationship of convenience. Political situations. Allegations of affairs, military and political inaccuracies. Eventual smut. 18+ Minors DNI. Banner Credit: @thedroneranger

Red, White, and Rooster Playlist TikTok edit Moodboad

Chapters:

Teaser

Prologue: The Great Debate

Chapter 1: The Election

Chapter 2: First 100 Days

Chapter 3: State of the Union

Chapter 4: A Wedding of Presidental Proportions

Chapter 5: Honeymoon Blues

Chapter 6: House Divided

Chapter 7: Mr. President Will See You Now

Chapter 8: The Man

Chapter 9: Under the Oval

Chapter 10: Happy Birthday, Mr. President

Chapter 11: Mrs. Americana & The Heartthrob Prez

Chapter 12: mirrorball

Chapter 13: What's In a Name?

Chapter 14: A Hen in the Fox House

Chapter 15: The Great War

Chapter 16: Executive Orders

Chapter 17: Safe and Sound

Chapter 18: On the (Campaign) Trail Again

Chapter 19: President Dadshaw

Chapter 20: The First Family

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4channerguy · 2 months

Note

Fluff Nagumo (sakamoto days) x GN reader!! It could be about anything Idc as long as it’s fluff!! Include nsfw in the end if you would like too I don’t mind 🫶

✧ nagumo as your boyfriend

◜ ⟣𓂃 hey anonn :3 sorry for the hold up i've been suffering writer's block for like months and shit & i decided it’s the best for me to do like a little headcanon thing cuz like tbh i don’t think i could write a full fic tho 🫡 also the nsfw part is lacking at best because i genuinely still do not KNOW how to WRITE for NAGUMO!!! WHY OH WHY!!!! anyway i hope it caters to you. xoxo (。・∀・)ノ

warnings ✎ : nsfw content, gender neutral reader (genitalia is not mentioned only your chest and your butt KEK) obsessive behavior mayhaps? ➜ ┊ pairings: nagumo x reader

♯┆SFW .ᐟ ★

he's such a wonderful bf *sigh*

he's also quite a teaser ngl, i think he blows on your neck a lot and when you flinch and glare at him he always has a shit-eating grin.

quite overprotective of you, even if you're literally extremely muscular and can literally bodyslam someone, he cannot BEAR the sight of you getting a small scratch on your face. or you getting into a fight

he's also a drama king

"oh hey nagumo...uhh what're you doing...?"

"applying rubbing alcohol on your face duh, who did this to you?? >:("

"what're you talking about...oh."

"oh?"

"heh...um that was me. i did that. i was...ripping a candy bag open. with my teeth. and the sharp part...cut my face." *insert mlp squee sound*

"..."

he's still going to thoroughly disinfect it and check on it everyday until it's gone. what a king!

he's very handsy, so you will find his hand SOMEWHERE on your part of your body.

you get so used to it you don't even notice.

if you ever sleep together, he always has both of his arms wrapped around you and whenever you wake up in the morning, you feel a puddle of drool in your hair. like always.

when he's sitting down next to you he always has the habit of grabbing your nearest hand and massaging your phalanges. or just intertwining and detangling your fingers with his.

also has the habit of just staring at you for no reason

it's like when you accidentally hold eye contact or stare at a person while your zoning out

except for his case he does it intentionally.

quite possessive of you, in some cases it can be unhealthy. also a bit jealous. (i might go on with this in a ramble if i could)

always offers his frumpy looking jackets and hawaiian shirts for you to wear

and you do because...who tf wouldnt lol

and when you do wear them he melts a little

trace his tattoos with your fingers!!! he finds that gesture slightly intimate

also you two have a game where every year for his birthday you pick out the dumbest tattoo design and make him get it

last year it was a badly drawn dick with two circles and a long oval lol

♯┆NSFW .ᐟ ★

i think he's personally an ass/thigh man

he's always finding a way to sneakily grope them in public settings

speaking of that he probably likes public risky sex (what a freak literally)

the thought of you and him getting off in the back of some janitor's closet or something like that with the door unlocked will get him hard ngl

he also probably has a size kink

AND this might be an unpopular opinion BUT i personally think that he would want to explore pegging

but you didn't hear that from me........................

he would think about asking you about it time to time but he won't personally act on it because it's not something he wants to experience it yet

(sorry)

dick size is kind of around 5 or 6 inches when hard probably and it's not very girthy i will not lie 🙅but it hits all the right spots i guess so yass?

he likes bondage, but wants to see you tied up most of the time :3

⋆｡𖦹 °✩ 04.12.24, do not repost or translate my content :^)

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sgstories123 · 11 months

Text

Mr Koh's Stretching Exercises

Faith’s left leg slipped and went much further forward than she intended to. She yelled in pain as she felt her muscles stretched and she stumbled over as she lost her balance.

Mr Koh cursed under his breath as he watched his student collapsed on the track. That will be another incident report to write. Why did the principal of the school asked him to take on the Athletics CCA. He was not interested in athletics nor had any knowledge of it. He was just smoking his way through by googling and asking the team to do training based on what he found on the internet. He was quite sure that none of them is useful and that none of the students are going to win medals for the school. It was just a bloody waste of time with no additional salary. At most, he can write something during performance appraisal that he contributed to school activities. He would rather read a book than coach the athletics team. He was after all a Literature teacher.

“Faith! Are you okay?” Mr Koh asked as he walked over to the student. The other students were already gather around her, helping her up to her feet.

“I think I sprained myself. My left leg is hurting.” Faith replied, her eyes red with tears.

For a moment, Mr Koh’s heart missed a beat. Faith was actually quite pretty with large eyes and oval-shaped face. She looks something like an anime character. With her eyes glistening in tears, Mr Koh felt a sudden urge to take her into his arms and protect her.

“Right. I got some ice packs in the PE room. That will help.” Mr Koh then addressed the rest of the students. “It is almost 5 pm. Let’s call it a day for today’s session. Remember to train hard. The school is expecting you to do well in the coming competition.” Mr Koh grimaced at the insincerity of the words emanating from his mouth.

As the students left the field, Mr Koh put Faith’s hands over his shoulders while he helped her to the staff room at the end of the field. He could feel her warm breath on his face. Her breasts pressed slightly against his chest as she clung closer to him for support. He looked at her sweat-drenched t-shirt, her pale blue sports bra beneath was just barely visible. He could make out the cleavage. As both of them were wearing running shorts, their bare legs were touching and rubbing each other as they made their way across the field. Mr Koh was fervently hoping that he does not get an erection as it would be too obvious in his running shorts.

“Right. Take a seat on the bench.” Mr Koh instructed Faith as they reached the PE room. He took the ice packs out from the small freezer and sat down on the floor in front of Faith. He started rubbing the ice pack on her legs, hoping that that is the correct way to treat a sports injury.

As he moved the ice packs higher up her thighs, Mr Koh admired her smooth complexion. The ice pack slid easily across her skin, leaving a trail of glistening liquid. Faith’s legs were open and her matching pale blue panties were visible from within her FBT shorts. His cock was hard now and he tried to adjust his shorts without attracting too much attention to himself.

“Right. You know, Faith. This would not have happened if you have done the warm-up exercises. I always remind all of you to do proper warm-up. Now you know what happens when you don’t listen to me and how important stretching is to an athlete.” Mr Koh rambled on, relying on his usual training instructions to focus on something other than how aroused he was from giving Faith a sports massage. “There are very useful stretching techniques that can not only prevent you from getting injured but help you perform better. When you stretch, you cover more distance with each stride and that can help you win competitions.”

“Cher, how about you teach me some stretching exercises now?” Faith asked.

Mr Koh was caught in a bind. He did not really know any stretching exercises. He was just talking nonsense and smoking his way through.

“Er, well. For example, we can start with you opening up your legs as wide as you can.” Mr Koh suggested.

Faith responded by doing exactly that. Mr Koh’s cock became even harder as more of Faith’s panties were revealed through her shorts.

“Maybe you sit down on the floor. Might be better.” Mr Koh suggested.

Faith got on the floor and sat down on the floor exercise mats with her legs outstretched. “Is this okay, Cher?”

“Right. I now help you with some of the stretching exercises, okay?” Mr Koh’s lust took over. He got behind Faith and pressed her body forwards, his body enjoying the warmth and close contact with the young body. He caressed her thighs, pretending to stretch them out further, but his real intent was to move further up her inner thighs, towards the final pleasure. Faith let out a sigh of pleasure. Mr Koh took that as a sign that her defences were down. He pressed himself harder against her, his hard cock rubbing her back. His hands went around her stomach, pulling her closer to him.

“Cher, is this part of the stretching exercise?” Faith asked innocently. “Yes. I am trying to warm your stomach up so that it is ready for the next exercise.” Mr Koh replied.

His hand now reached into her panties, brushing lightly against the thin, sparse pubic hair of the young girl. His other hand reached underneath her shirt and pushed her sports bra upwards, releasing her breasts. He groped them tight. What beautiful breasts. Soft and just large enough to fill his hands completely.

“Cher, this does not feel right. You are doing something that only my boyfriend does?” Faith sounded confused. “I told you to listen to me right? Or you are going to get injured again. I am just massaging you. Now keep quiet and enjoy.“ Mr Koh was a little angry, partly because Faith mentioned that her boyfriend had been enjoying this wonderful piece of meat.

Mr Koh pushed Faith down onto the exercise mats and pulled off her shorts and panties. “Wait, Cher. What are you doing?” Faith was now frightened. “”I said listen to me and keep quiet. Your shorts are in the way. You can’t do a proper stretch with them on. This is good for you or you will keep on getting hurt.” Mr Koh raised his voice and Faith was subdued into silence.

Mr Koh pulled Faith’s legs wide open and saw his prize. It was a beautiful pussy with slightly swollen pinkish lips and crowned with a small crop of pubic hair. “See, I am also taking off my shorts so that I can stretch better.” Mr Koh continued before taking off his shorts, his hard cock pointing towards the ceiling.

“Now, I am going to give you a special stretching exercise. Your vagina needs to be loosened or it will hinder your legs from spreading out. I will help you with that now.” Mr Koh positioned his hard cock at the entrance of Faith’s vagina, spitting on it to provide lubrication. He then pushed it slowly in. It was tight and provided immense pleasure.

“Cher. This is wrong. You are fucking me.” Faith cried. “I am not fucking you. I am stretching your vagina.” Mr Koh grunted, as his cock inched deeper into her. “This is a stretching exercise, not a fuck.”

“Look. I am stretching your legs, right. It is all part of the exercise.” Mr Koh grunted as he stretch Faith’s legs wider apart, hoping that it will allow his cock to enter her more easily. As he plunged his last inch into her, he groaned in satisfaction. He then lifted Faith’s legs over his shoulders, pushing himself even deeper into her. “More stretching, Faith. Not fucking.”

As Mr Koh started fucking Faith, pounding into her at an increasing pace, Faith had stopped complaining but was instead moaning softly in pleasure.

“Are you feeling it, Faith? Do you feel your muscles relaxing now that it has been stretched?” Mr Koh grunted in between his pounding.

“Yes, Cher. This feels so good. Fuck me harder.” Faith whimpered.

“Not fucking you, Faith. Just doing stretching exercises. Remember that.” Mr Koh responded. “Now, let’s stretch another set of muscles.”

Mr Koh pulled Faith up from the exercise mats and pushed her against the wall. He entered her from behind, lifting one of her legs upwards. Faith moaned in pleasure as Mr Koh’s hard cock ravished her hole from a different angle. He pressed her against the wall as he fucked her, slamming his body hard against her. He quickened his pace, drawing greater pleasure as he neared his limit. With a large groan and a final deep thrust, he ejaculated into Faith, drowning her womb with his seed. He held onto her, as Faith shuddered in pleasure, as she too reached her climax. He slowly released her, letting her lie down on the exercise mats as he watched his semen slowly exiting her vagina and onto the mats.

He would need to clean the mats later, he thought to himself. Additional work, again. But at least it was worth it. Maybe being an athletics coach is not so bad after all. It might even be better than reading a book. There were after all a couple of pretty students in the team. Mae, Jasmine and even Jenn.

“Cher.” Faith broke his chain of fantasy. “Can we do some more stretching exercise again?”

“Well. I was thinking we should not be selfish. Maybe we can involve Mae, Jasmine and Jenn next time. I think all of you should undergo special training and compete for the 4 x 100 event.” Mr Koh smiled to himself as a whole new world suddenly opened up to him.

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brainlicking · 2 months

Text

Dukeceit Week day 5 Bodyswap/Sharing Clothes

I think they look good in each others outfits!

Image ID under the cut

[ID: An illustration of Janus and Remus from Sanders Sides. Janus is wearing Remus' full costume, standing with his hip cocked to one side, his left hand propped on his hip and right hand tapping at his chin. His expression indicates that he's very much liking what he's seeing. Which is-

Remus is wearing Janus' gloves, caplet and hat. And only that. He is standing with his back to the viewer, both hands on his hips in pride. His bare bum out and proud. His face is looking side-on at and he's grinning with an open mouth and sharp teeth.

The background is plain white, with a yellow oval underneath Janus and a green oval underneath Remus.

End ID]

@imnotgrimimjustagrumpyreaper

#sanders sides #Janus Sanders #Remus Sanders #dukeceit #dukeceit week #demus #nudity #that's it from me folks for this week! i hope you all enjoyed the weird mish-mash of art I made for the event

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our-transmasculine-experience · 3 months

Note

I'm a transmasc teen with a very feminine face (it's an oval in shape but I have very full cheeks so it looks more round?) and voice that makes it extremely difficult for me to pass even with short hair + a binder + dressing/otherwise presenting masculinely (plus I'm chinese american so yknow, the racism probably isn't helping me be perceived as masculine.)

but it also gives me a grudge against the idea that it's easy or "easier" to pass as a transmasc? it could be the dead of winter, I could be wearing 5 layers under a puffy jacket with all of my hair under a beanie, all of my clothes & accessories could be conventionally "masculine", and I would still get misgendered. obviously the aforementioned idea that passing is easy for transmascs is wrong and harmful for reasons not related to my personal experience, but those are just my two cents.

another oddly specific thing that makes me dysphoric is plots in media where closeted transmasc or female characters go undercover as male by 1) tucking long hair into a hat 2) wearing a bunch of layers 3) speaking in a slightly lower voice. I don't think there's anything objectively wrong with these and I'm glad they help a lot of people realize they were trans, it just makes me intensely jealous because I *wish* that were me, yknow? instead I put a fuckton of effort into being "masculine" and still get misgendered daily.

i'm so sorry about that. just remember that one day, you can pass, and your worth as a transmasc is not determined by how well you pass. the first mistake is comparing your transition to anyone else's, when it's unique to you.

best of luck, dude. i feel this.

#transgender #lgbtq #ftm #trans guy #trans man #trans boy #trans #transmasc #queer #lgbt

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cerriddwenluna · 2 years

Text

The Diary of Kurt E. Hummel (5/24)

The Diary of Kurt E. Hummel

This diary belongs to Kurt E. Hummel.

Please do not read this without my express permission. (Yes, that includes you, Finn.)

***

Have you always wanted to find out what Kurt writes in his diary? Now is your chance! But, ssssht! Don't tell Kurt we stole it... ;)

Read chapter 5 now, below the cut and also on AO3 and S&C!

Read from the beginning

UPDATE: Now also with art under the cut!

Oval

Dear Journal,

Today, I became a father.

Rachel had been having a lot of false alarms in the past week, so when I got the call, the news did not immediately sink in. We've had everything ready to go for weeks, of course, so I hung up with Jesse and called Blaine back from his traditional Saturday brunch date with Sam.

Oh god. I don't even have words to describe how nervous and excited we were.

Labour took fairly long, as was to be expected with a first time delivery, but Rachel was a goddess (even if my hand and ears will never be the same again).

She's just… She's perfect. The prettiest baby I've ever seen. Ten perfect little toes, and ten surprisingly strong little fingers, with two of the most gorgeous oval shaped eyes set in the most perfect little face.

She already seems to have inherited Blaine's wild curls, and I can only hope she'll get his beautiful hazel eye colour as well.

We've decided to name her Elizabeth Morgan Hummel-Anderson, or Ellie for short.

Elliot likes to tease that we named her after him, which I will deny till the day I die, but it does make me love the goof even more when I see how excited he is to meet his favourite niece and 'namesake'.

Thanks to the bet I lost with Blaine, he got to pick the middle name. I was worried he'd go for Leia or Lois, or something super geeky like Neytiri. Morgan is still a nerd reference, but at least it's a pretty one that I can live with. We certainly love her more than 3000.

Blaine is currently hogging Ellie, and they look so beautiful right now. He is softly singing her to sleep as they sway in the moonlight streaming through the nursery window.

I can't remember ever feeling as happy as I do now.

Best. Day. Ever.

~ Kurt

Thanks for reading! ♡♡♡

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 6

#Klaine Advent 2022 #Day 5: Oval #glee #klaine #klaine fanfiction #epistolary #gwen writes #and makes art now too!#klaine fanart #Parents!Klaine my beloveds

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ereardon · 4 months

Text

His Best Friend's Wedding Epilogue [Bradley Bradshaw x Reader]

Overview: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw has been your best friend for a decade. He’s also your fiancé’s best man. So when he shows up at your hotel room the night before your wedding, it’s just because he’s your friend, right?

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Reader

Chapter summary: Two years after confessing the night before your wedding that he was in love with you, Bradley is faced with major changes – your divorce, and the birth of your child. You have a confession for him: you always loved him, too.

Warnings: Angst, pregnancy, childbirth, mention of cheating, alcohol, violence

See the full masterlist for the miniseries here

WC: 4.5K

You stood in the doorway, hand frozen in midair. Fear tightened your chest.

How many times had you knocked on Bradley’s door before? Mostly you let yourself in, key slipped in the lock as seamlessly as if it were your own house. The bungalow was warm and inviting and you knew practically every turn, every creaky hardwood plank, every scratch on the wall.

The dent on your ring finger stared back at you as your hand hovered an inch from the wood door. It felt odd. Bare. And while at first, the rings had felt heavy, like an omen, you were surprised to find that the absence of them didn’t feel light or freeing.

It felt like homeostasis.

After a moment, your fingers landed against the soft wood of the door. It opened instantly. Bradley’s warm eyes met yours.

You looked up.

“Come inside, Ace.”

***

Bradley watched you kiss Jeremy on the altar. He had to sit there and give his best man speech at the wedding even though his hands shook the entire time and he couldn’t look either of you in the eye. He felt the prickle of jealousy and anger under the collar of his tux as you and Jeremy ran through the crowd toward the vintage convertible your father had lent the two of you as your getaway car.

Through gritted teeth, Bradley watched the milestones in your life from a short distance. Photos of your honeymoon in Tahiti. Your first house as a married couple.

He was there the day the stick turned pink.

Jeremy, as it turns out, was on assignment. You called Bradley without a second thought. “Brad,” you whispered into the phone. “Come over.”

He could hear the anxiety in your voice. He was in his car before he even had time to tie his shoes, driving the familiar route without really seeing it. He could find his way to you with his eyes closed.

You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub when he arrived, barreling through the door without knocking, shoving into the bathroom. The door flung open. He dropped down to kneel in front of you.

“Ace?”

You smiled gently. “I couldn’t do this on my own.” You pointed to the test, wrapped up on the counter. Bradley sucked in a breath. He had known this was coming. You and Jeremy had been married for two years. You had always wanted a family.

“Want me to open it?” he asked. You nodded. Bradley reached for the rest, rotating the plastic wrapper in his hands, pinching the plastic end with his large fingertips before pulling it slowly out of the sheath, reading the tiny white oval face.

“Brad?” you whispered. Every nerve in your body was on fire. Fear bubbled in your chest.

He smiled softly. “You’re going to be an amazing mom.”

You sagged and Bradley caught you immediately, the two of you crouched on the bathroom floor, your arms flung around Bradley’s neck, his fingertips pressing tightly against your skin. He could feel your tears soaking the cotton of his shirt where your face was scrunched against his shoulder, but he didn’t care. He had never cared. He knew they were tears of joy.

Bradley was the first person you called for most things. The day you got a flat tire on I-5 headed to Santa Clarita for a girls trip. The time you twisted an ankle at the grocery store and he showed up fifteen minutes later with a pair of flat shoes and an ice pack.

Bradley was the person you called when everything went to hell with Jeremy.

“I can’t fucking do this anymore!” you screamed, throwing a cup across the room, letting it shatter into a million pieces.

Jeremy’s face was hard like stone. “You’re being insane, Y/N,” he said.

“Insane? Insane?” You whipped around to face him, cheeks red with anger. “You’re gone all the time, Jer. You don’t answer your phone. I hear from other wives that you’re hanging out at bars on the base with random people including women I don’t know. How do you think that makes me feel?”

“That’s the fucking job, Y/N. I’m a Naval lieutenant commander. I have responsibilities. I have duties. I have people I owe my life to.”

“To me!” you shouted. “You owe your life to me, Jer! We stood up in front of three hundred people and promised ourselves to each other. Our time, our energy, our commitment.”

“I’m in the military, babe, I have commitments.”

You shook your head, tears flooding your eyes. “Maybe you’re the kind of man who can only have one.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” you whispered, “that maybe I’m not your top priority anymore.”

Jeremy was silent. His silence said more than words ever could.

You wiped at your tears. “I’m going out.”

“When will you be back?”

“Maybe I won’t.”

“Don’t you fucking do that,” he said and there was ice in his words. “Don’t you fucking throw all of this away.”

“You’re the one throwing it away,” you said, opening the door. “I’m just following your lead.”

***

Bradley hated when you showed up at his door, tears in your eyes, an overnight bag packed and sitting at your side.

He hated it more when you didn’t show up at all. Because that meant he was just one more step from losing you, all over again.

The night that you found out about the baby, with Jeremy overseas, you asked Bradley to stay at the house. The two of you sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, Buddy your rescue labrador’s head buried in Bradley’s lap, one of his large hands stroking the dog's velvety ears.

“Brad?” you asked, leaning your head against one hand, elbow pressed against the overstuffed sofa cushion.

“Hmm?”

“We don’t talk about it,” you said.

“Talk about what?”

“The wedding,” you whispered. “Everything that happened the night before.”

Bradley’s eyes widened. It had been two years, four months, and sixteen days. He had thought about it every single day since he watched you float down the aisle toward him, only to say yes to Jeremy. You were still the first thing he thought of when he woke up and the last thing on his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“I still love you,” Bradley said and you sucked in a breath. That felt like a punch to the gut. You placed one hand over your stomach, which he misinterpreted. “I’m sorry,” he added. “I know you belong to Jer. And I want you to be happy, Ace. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” He paused. “I know you have everything you could ever want now. Maybe I don’t fit in to your life anymore.”

“Don’t say that.” You were on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Buddy grunted and squeezed out from between the two of you, sulking off to his bed in the corner. You felt Bradley’s hands, warm, tighten on your back. He felt like coming home. “You will always fit into my life. Always. No matter what.”

“I thought you’d hate me,” he whispered. “For saying all of that to you before the wedding.”

You pulled back, tears in your eyes. “Bradley Bradshaw. I will never hate you a day in my life.”

***

Your bare hand fell to your stomach, warm and round and hard, as you stood awkwardly in the foyer of Bradley’s house.

He stood with his arms dangling at his sides. “So.”

This wasn’t the reunion you wanted. You weren’t sure what you wanted. For everything to disappear. For the last decade to be erased.

To have chosen Bradley that night in that Annapolis dive bar instead of Jeremy.

You stepped closer. “I left.”

“Ace,” he whispered.

You shook your head. “For good. He signed the papers.” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “It’s over.”

“Oh.” Bradley could barely breathe. He was afraid of moving, in case it was all a dream and you faded away into the background, out of his grasp.

“Brad,” you whispered, reaching out, putting one hand against his cheek, soft cool skin against his warm flesh. You could feel the grittiness of his stubble beneath your fingertips. “I was wrong to choose Jeremy. At the wedding. That first night at the bar. Every night since.”

“What are you saying, Y/N?” he murmured.

“I’m saying I’m sorry,” you said quietly. “I’m saying that I still love you.”

***

The day it all came to a head was a year after the wedding. You and Bradley were in the living room when Jeremy stomped in, eyes wide with rage. He held up a credit card bill in one hand.

“Y/N.” His voice boomed along the walls. You cowered. “What the fuck?”

“What’s going on?” Bradley’s mouth was pulled into a tight line.

“None of your business, Bradshaw,” Jeremy spat. “This is between me and my wife.”

“Don’t like the tone you’re taking, Jer.” You were thankful for Bradley in that moment.

Jeremy stepped closer. You could smell the sharp acidity of alcohol on his breath. “I said, back off, Bradshaw. This is between me and Y/N.” He turned to you. “What the fuck is this charge?”

“What charge?”

“This.” He shoved the paper right beneath your nose. “Some hotel in Miami.”

You rolled your eyes. “That was for Kelly’s bachelorette.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Don't lie to me.”

“Why the fuck would I lie to you?” you demanded. “You’re the one who cheats in this relationship, not me.”

You never saw his hand shoot out. But it didn’t land on your cheek like it was meant to. Instead, faster than you could even see, Bradley stepped between the two of you, Jeremy’s slap landing across his face. Bradley’s left arm wrapped back around you, making sure you were tucked safely behind him.

A quietness enveloped the room.

And then Bradley’s voice. “Y/N,” he said gruffly. “Get in the car.”

“I—”

“Get in the car,” he repeated. You backed up, eyes on the two of them as you grabbed your phone and made your way for the door.

As you were slipping your shoes on, you heard Bradley’s voice. Low and harsh. You had never heard him sound like that before.

“You ever, I mean ever, lay a fucking hand on her, next time you see me I’ll be standing over your grave,” Bradley hissed.

Jeremy’s shoulders sagged. They were practically brothers. But there was something definitive about Bradley’s tone. “Baby, I didn’t mean–”

“Get yourself together, Jer,” Bradley said, turning, his eyes falling on you. “You don’t deserve her.”

***

“What happened?” Bradley whispered.

You felt your shoulders droop. “I left him,” you said. “We both know I had to.” Your hands fell to your stomach: bloated, uncomfortable, eight months wide. “For me. And her. Or him.”

Bradley ran one hand over his face, pulling at the small creases near the sides of his eyes. “Ace. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not.” You looked at the living room. “Can I sit? I’m huge.”

“Oh, God, of course.” Bradley rushed to throw a pillow and blanket from the couch and make room for you. He held your hand, easing you down onto the couch.

“I’m sorry it took so long to realize,” you said as Bradley settled into the seat next to you, his brown eyes warm and wide.

“Realize what?”

“I think you know.”

***

“You’re making a mistake.” Bradley was drunk, and so were you. The diamond on your left hand glittered under the dim light outside the bar where the two of you had bummed stray cigarettes from one of the barbacks in the alley.

“What, this?” you asked, flicking the cigarette as ash fluttered to the ground. “I’m so fucking hammered I won’t remember this tomorrow so it doesn’t really count, right?”

He shook his head, dropping the cigarette and stomping it out beneath one foot. “Marrying Jeremy.”

You sucked in a breath. Too hard, choking on smoke. Bradley slapped your back, his fingertips warm across your bare skin, until you could breathe normally. You frowned up at him. “What’s gotten into you?”

“He’s not good enough,” he said.

“What the hell?” you demanded. “It’s been eight years, Bradley. You waited eight years to tell me that you think I shouldn’t marry him?”

“I told you from day one,” he said, “that you were better off without him.”

“This is cruel.” A tear slid from your eye and you felt the edge of the cigarette burning your skin. Instead of dropping it, you let the heat invade your fingertip. It wasn’t the only thing on fire. “You’re doing this to hurt me.”

“Ace,” he whispered. “No. I’m doing this to keep you from getting hurt.”

“The only thing that’s hurting me is you, Bradley.” You dropped the cigarette, letting it tumble to the ground, watching Bradley’s face fall alongside it. You stepped out of the light and into the shadows, disappearing into the night.

***

The lights were hot. Your dress felt too tight and itchy. Jeremy’s hands were slick with sweat as the two of you twirled around the dance floor, messing up your choreographed dance not once but twice. You tried to laugh it off but it felt like an omen. No matter how much practice, you still couldn’t get it right.

After a while, the song flowed into the next and other couples flooded the dance floor.

A hand appeared on Jeremy’s shoulder. He turned, Bradley’s face hovering over his shoulder. “May I cut in?”

Jeremy nodded, smile wide, innocence across his face. He had no idea that twenty-four hours before, his best friend had been confessing his love for you.

He had no idea that you hesitated on that altar.

“Of course.” Jeremy let his fingertips drop from your waist. He planted a kiss, chaste, on your lips. “Be good, babe. You’re a married woman now.” He turned to Bradley with a grin. “All yours, Bradshaw.”

Bradley’s hands were warm. He guided you confidently in a loose circle around the dance floor. There was an effortless confidence to the way Bradley danced. But it wasn’t only dancing. There was confidence in everything about him. You trusted him, with everything.

“Ace,” he said quietly.

You looked up. “Don’t,” you whispered. “Let’s just dance, OK? There’s nothing else to say.”

“OK.”

You leaned your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath his tux. When you closed your eyes, everything else — the lights, the music, the heat — faded away.

It was just the sound of his heart beating in your ear, guiding you in the darkness.

***

“You can stay here,” Bradley said, standing up. “For as long as you want.”

You frowned. “I can’t ask you to do that. The baby is coming any day now. It’ll keep you awake, day and night.”

“Your snoring does that already.”

It was the first air of mirth in the conversation. You grinned. “Shut up.”

Bradley’s mouth returned to its set shape, a thin line. “I’ll get the guest room ready for you.”

“Brad.” You were on your feet, wobbling. He reached out instinctively, one hand on your arm, balancing you. “I don’t think you’re hearing me.”

“I am,” he replied. “But you got divorced, what, fifteen minutes ago? I’ve waited fifteen years for you, Ace. I can wait another day or two or one hundred. I need to know that I’m not your backup. That I’m not just your plan B when everything else goes to shit.”

“You’re not.”

“I need to know that you actually want me,” he said quietly. “Because there’s nothing I want more in this world than you.”

***

For three weeks, you slept in Bradley’s guest room. Sleeping was an exaggeration of what you were actually doing, which was grunting and turning over like a beached whale every five minutes, and going to the bathroom in between.

And then, in the middle of the night, you felt it.

“Brad!” you yelled. The door flung open a second later, shirtless Bradley standing in the doorway, the hallway light illuminating him from behind, hair a mess, eyes wide.

“What?”

You looked up with glee. “It’s happening. The baby’s coming.”

The entire drive to the hospital, Bradley was death gripping the wheel. He looked so terrified that the nurses took one look at him and laughed before showing you to the L&D room. He paced across the room a thousand times as you went through all of the checks, breathed through the contractions, winced as they inserted your IV.

“Bradley,” you said, tossing your head back against the flat pillow. “You need to stop. You’re making me sick.”

“Fuck, sorry.” He sat down on the chair, bouncing his knee. “Honey? I gotta ask.”

“Hmm?”

“Should I call Jeremy?”

The two of you hadn’t spoken since the divorce was finalized. But Bradley had a point. Jeremy was, technically, the baby’s father. He deserved to know. “Yeah. I guess.”

“I’ll be right back.” He slipped out of the room and you laid back against the bed, eyes pressed shut.

The pain started to increase and by the time Bradley returned you were sweating.

“Ace? Should I call the nurse?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You know what I mean,” he said. “You’re the most beautiful woman that ever existed.”

“Even now?”

He grinned. “Especially now.”

Your fingertips closed around his, just as the door pressed open. Jeremy stood in the doorway with a bouquet of flowers. His eyes immediately landed on your fingers intertwined with Bradley’s. He stepped inside, setting the flowers down on the table against the wall. “Y/N.”

“Jer.”

“I’ll be outside,” Bradley said, letting his fingers slip away. You nodded. He gave Jeremy a wide berth. You frowned. The two of them had been so close. You had even watched them kiss each other once while drunk and as part of a draft bet. But there was an icy wall that surrounded the two of them now.

All three of you.

Jeremy sat in the chair that Bradley had vacated. He reached up to put his hand on your stomach and you let him. Under the fluorescent lights, his gold ring glinted.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Uncomfortable.”

“Did they give you the epidural yet?”

“No,” you replied. “And I wasn’t just talking about the labor.”

He let out a sigh. “Listen, Y/N, I fucked up. I know that. But this is our baby.” Jeremy paused. “No matter what happened between us, I want to be a part of this child’s life.”

“You’re the baby’s father,” you said. “Of course you’ll be in their life.”

Jeremy paused. “And Bradshaw?”

“What about him?”

He cocked his head to one side. “So you two are a thing?”

Your eyes widened. “What? No.”

“Y/N.”

“He’s my best friend. He’s always been my best friend.”

“And mine,” Jeremy reminded you. “So trust me when I say, there were always three people in this marriage. And I was the odd one out.”

“Nothing ever happened,” you whispered. “Not while we were married.”

“But after?” he asked.

You grimaced. “Before. New Orleans. The wedding you couldn’t make.”

He nodded. “I guess a part of me always knew. I had hoped you’d pick me. And you did, for a while. But you were always his.”

“I wanted to be yours,” you whispered. “I was yours. And you blew it.”

“I know.” Jeremy’s head hung low. He looked up at you through those dark lashes. “I should have stepped aside that first night, at the bar in Annapolis. I saw how he looked at you. But I wanted you for myself. And I never was good at turning down an opportunity.”

“You are both going to be in my life,” you said. “Because you’re both in this baby’s life. So you’ll have to find a way to work it out.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

“Do you want me to stay?” he asked. Six months before, you would have scoffed at the thought that Jeremy wouldn’t be there for the birth of his child. But that was then.

Everything had changed. You shook your head slowly, watching the color drain from Jeremy’s face. “I’ll call you after,” you whispered. “I just think this is something I have to do alone.”

His face hardened. “But you’re not going to be alone, are you? Bradshaw will be here.”

“Don’t be jealous of Bradley.”

“It’s only fair,” he replied, standing up. “Bradshaw was jealous of me for the last fifteen years. I guess it’s my turn to be jealous.”

“Jer.”

He turned from where he stood at the doorway. His eyes roamed over you and you knew he was letting it all sink in. This was the last time he would ever look at you and see you carrying his child inside your womb. “Yeah, baby?”

“I hope it’s a girl,” you confessed.

“If she’s just like you, then we’ll be the luckiest parents in the world.”

***

“You got this, Ace. You’re doing amazing.”

Bradley’s hand was being slowly crushed in your death grip. He pushed a few sweaty strands of hair out of your face. “I can’t do it,” you groaned, leaning back against the pillows. “Bowling ball-sized heads are not supposed to come out of your hooha. It’s just physics.”

He chuckled. “I’m sorry, honey, but I think it’s a little late to turn around.”

“I feel like I’m shitting out a block of explosives. Now I know what those fucking prisoners at Alcatraz felt like trying to dig their way out with spoons.”

Bradley smirked at your side as the nurses around your ankles giggled. “At least you’re funny right now.”

“Well you can be funny or hot and considering I have a baby wedged in my pelvis I would say I’m not exactly Bachelorette material right now.”

“You’re doing great.”

You squeezed Bradley’s hand, so tight his mustache twitched, but he didn’t complain. “Promise me something,” you gasped.

“Anything.”

“You’ll never leave us.”

He frowned. “Of course not.”

“Swear it.”

“Ace.” He leaned in close, your faces only a few inches apart. “I haven’t stopped thinking of you since the night we met fifteen years ago. That’s not going to change anytime soon.”

You looked at him. “OK. I’m ready.”

“It’s time to push.” The doctor at the end of the bed slid on a pair of gloves. “Y/N, give me a big breath and then a push, OK?”

You bared down, gripping Bradley’s hand. Hard. You had fought for a lot of things in your life. A spot on the volleyball team in high school. Your MBA program. Your marriage. But this was a fight you had been preparing for.

The moment the doctor held your screaming, crying daughter into the air, you burst into tears. She was covered in goo and wailing like a banshee and she was the most magnificent thing you had ever laid eyes on.

They placed her on your chest, eyes scrunched shut, covered in blood and a number of other things but all you could do was stare at her in awe.

“Would you like to cut the cord?” The doctor held up a pair of medical scissors. Bradley looked at you with wide eyes, waiting for permission. You nodded and he took the silver scissors in his large hands, practically shaking as she showed him how to cut the spongy cord.

In your arms, your daughter squirmed. She was so impossibly small. And soft. The nurses took her away for a few minutes to run tests and wipe her off, and by the time you had her back in your arms the rest of the staff had cleared out of the room.

You looked up at Bradley who hadn’t stopped staring at her since the moment she was born.

“Brad?” He lifted his gaze to you, eyebrows raised. “Would you like to hold her?”

He looked pale and nervous, but excited as you carefully shifted her into his arms as the two of you sat side-by-side on the hospital bed. She looked even smaller when cradled against Bradley’s chest. He held her tiny feet in one hand, stroking them slowly, her small mouth in a rounded “o” but no sound came out. There was a feeling of content to being in Bradley’s arms.

You knew it well.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered. “Have you picked a name?”

You smiled. “Yes. Carolina. Carol for short.”

When Bradley looked up, there was a glassy sheen to his brown eyes. You watched as his lips beneath his mustache trembled. “Thank you.”

“Marry me.” It spilled out of your mouth.

“Ace.” It was a whisper. Thin and pained. “Honey.”

You shook your head. “I’m serious. Marry me. It’s always been you, Roo. Even when it wasn’t.”

“You just had a baby,” he whispered. “You’re emotional and tired and it’s only been two months since the divorce.”

“I know what I’m saying.” You looked down at your daughter. “She needs you in her life. Just as much as I do.”

Bradley brushed his thumb along her forehead. “She’s half you. Which means she’s half me, too. You’ve owned a piece of me, Y/N, since the night we met.”

“So marry me.”

“Don’t you need time to think?” he asked. “Don’t you need to heal? Find yourself? All that crap people talk about. Dye your hair purple. Go to Italy and meet some douchebag and learn how to fly helicopters and sell your house and buy a condo downtown.”

You smiled at him softly. “You asked me once, on a very important night, if he made me as happy as you make me. And the truth is, Brad, there’s only one other person who makes me as happy as you. And she’s sitting right there against your chest.” As if on cue, Carolina cooed in Bradley’s arms. “All I know is that I wasted fifteen years without ever really having you. I don’t want to waste another minute.”

Gently, Bradley stood, placing your daughter into the bassinet next to the bed. He laid her down gently, hovering over her delicate body, making sure she didn’t fuss, before leaning over you, one large hand pushing back the hair that had fallen into your face. “I’ll marry you today, tomorrow, next year, in fifty years. As long as I know you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” you whispered as Bradley inched nearer, his lips grazing yours. “Today. Tomorrow. Forever.”

His lips sealed around yours. For the first time in your life, you felt whole.

Note: Special thanks to anyone who read parts 1 and 2 when I posted them last year. I got an itch to write an epilogue to this, hopefully it lives up! xx

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@taytaylala12 @mizzzpinkink @wkndwlff @mygyn @sadpetalsstuff @shanimallina87 @averyhotchner @oneelleandaneye @rosewritesitout @atarmychick007 @khaylin27

@wittywhispers @wildlyobserving @eyesthatroll @localhockeygirll @rosiahills22 @teacupsandtopgun @sexythollandd @djs88911 @rxmtoon @darkestbeforethedawn166 @cactajuice @purplevortexx @dempy @lemur46

@louie-bugug @arson-tmm @valkyrja-siren-blog @avengers-fixation @fudge13 @phantomxoxo @a-court-of-roscoe-and-babyy @not-two-shrimp @xoxabs88xox @abaker7474 @evans-dejong @mandylove1000 @xomrsalliej4787xo @gretagerwigsmuse @gigisimsonmars @wkndwlff @bobfloydsbabe @katiedid-3 @seresinslady @sordidfairytale @lets-turn-and-burn @bebeofimladris @mandylove1000 @mamachasesmayhem @na-ta-sh-aa

#bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster fanfic #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun imagine #friends to lovers

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