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ceilidho · 1 year

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prompt: ghost and you are the only survivors of a military plane crash. you spend weeks alone in the wild together. (ns/fw)

In the years you’ve worked as a flight attendant, you’ve never experienced a plane crash before. It’s exactly like what you would’ve expected.

Clear skies rapidly turn grey outside the tiny windows to your left and right; you notice it almost instantly because it casts a pall over the interior of the aircraft. It makes the small group of men that you’ve been travelling with sit up a bit straighter in their seats, only a few of them looking genuinely concerned. Military men often do; it’s in their nature to worry and fret. You feel it like a twinge in your gut, like something telling you that you don’t usually fly through dark clouds.

The soft ding of the seatbelt sign comes on a handful of seconds later. The turbulence only a few moments after that.

Pilots are trained to avoid cumulonimbus clouds like they’re a harbinger of death (and they are). Even large airliners avoid crossing the path of a cumulonimbus. Your pilot should’ve known to divert and fly around the cloud, avoiding the possibility of flying through a thunderstorm altogether. The pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom for everyone to fasten their seatbelts and you notice distantly that his voice seems frazzled.

Your hands grip the seat as you strap in. This is exactly the kind of scenario you’ve prepared extensively for, but in the face of it, your stomach tosses and turns. Practice can only hope to ape reality; it often falls short.

From across the aisle, you lock eyes with the lieutenant in the skull mask that politely refused a beverage ten minutes ago. The plane jostles you violently in your seat as it passes through a rough patch of turbulence. Even the lieutenant, twice your size and rooted into his seat, his hands clamped around the arm rests, grunts when he’s rocked side to side.

There’s a loud pop outside the aircraft and the plane teeters dangerously to one side. The bags in the overheads bash against the doors, the plastic squeaking under their weight.

Someone screams. The other attendant sitting across from you is already shouting, “Brace! Brace! Brace!” The mantra bursts from his chest along with spittle and the singular, quivering note of fear. There’s not much more you can do but follow his lead, dropping your head to your knees and wrapping your arms around your legs.

Your stomach drops when the plane descends far too suddenly. You would’ve been pulled back against the wall if your arms weren’t wrapped around your legs. You have enough time to peek up briefly to see all of the other men assuming the same position, some with their heads pressed against the seat in front of them before the aircraft nosedives and there’s a sharp whistle in your ear and the lights flicker ominously in the cabin and something tears and tears and tears and—

Then it’s dark.

Your grip must have loosened because the world disintegrates after you hit your head. There’s only a faint buzz and something ice cold, something that grips you from the inside and slithers over your skin. The aftermath of a crash is so quiet for the devastation it brings.

The big one in the scary mask is the one who drags you from the wreckage, lifting you into his arms when you’re still too dazed to do more than whimper pathetically. Fear and pain and adrenaline have crumpled you up into a little ball.

“Keep your eyes open,” he says, and maybe it’s a shout. His voice is so loud. When you open them, you nearly close your eyes instinctively when you see the gaping hole in the plane where it’s been torn apart.

“Where are—” it hurts to speak, but you have no choice, “—the others…”

He doesn’t respond. That makes it worse. You slip your arms around his neck so he can hike you closer up his chest. Slung over his shoulder is a black duffle bag that he must have pulled from the overhead, or what’s left of them. When your head turns on a swivel, you startle at the sight of the other attendant still strapped in his seat, his neck snapped back at an odd angle.

You turn your head away.

“My leg hurts really bad,” you sob, fingers clutched in the sweat-matted fabric of your saviour’s shirt.

He palms the back of your head and tips you just enough for you to meet his eyes. Something dark shutters over his face for a split second. If your eyes weren’t filled with tears, you might’ve noticed it. It passes fast though, too quick for you to register it in these conditions.

“‘Gonna be okay, sweetheart,” he says, gentler this time, rough-sounding like he’s not used to using that tone. “Gonna get us out of here and then I’ll check your leg. Just hang on to me.”

It’s hard to catalogue every moment because you drift in and out of consciousness. You feel the man shift you in his arms whenever he clambers down the side of the mountain your plane must have flown into. There’s debris from the wreckage scattered around the rocks, the other half of the plane not too far away. When your eyes blink open briefly, you see how decimated the other half is.

There aren’t any other survivors. Only bodies. He doesn’t stop for them.

Far off from the wreckage, he sets you down onto the soft earth and rifles around in the bag he took. There’s a first aid kit with supplies that he uses to wrap your ankle, which is swollen and tender. The adrenaline crash is nearly more violent than the plane crash you just survived. It wracks through your body as the lieutenant strips your shoes and socks, gently manipulating your foot in his big hands. You notice he’s also lost the mask.

Ochre yellow and green plains spread outward from the mountains. You remember from the flight maps on board that you were somewhere over Mongolia, but the exact mountain range eludes you. This could be the Khangai or the Sayan or the Altai, but you have no way of knowing.

“Is there a…a phone in the bag? How’s anyone gonna know we’re out here?” You sound helpless, smaller than you’ve ever sounded.

He shakes his head. The tight ball of tension in the middle of your chest grows tighter. The thought that you’re stranded in the mountains in Mongolia, thousands of miles away from home and no way to get help is almost enough to send you into a panic attack.

A hand cups under your chin to tilt your head up. His face up close is exquisite and haunting—weathered in the way that career military men often are, burn marks and old scars littered across the delicate skin, lips perpetually chapped, and a nose that looks like it’s been broken way more than once. You can’t look away.

“Someone’ll be looking for us,” he says. It’s reassuring only because he says it like it’s a certain thing. “Don’t know if you saw who was on that flight roster. A lot of important men were supposed to arrive in Germany at twenty-one-hundred hours.”

You nod, tears still dribbling down your cheeks even when he swipes his thumb across to rub them away. He’s not wrong. There was a colonel on your flight after all. Dead now, hot corpse still steaming in the wreckage half a kilometre away, but he would’ve been important enough to warrant an immediate rescue.

You go still under his touch. “You weren’t on the flight list.”

He shakes his head. “Never am.”

“But you were with them?” You remember someone on the flight addressing him by his rank. It was early on in the service, when you were still strapping down bags and doing cross-check, making sure everything was in place. But you remember, even then, seeing that there were more bodies on the plane than names on the list; you’d brought it up to the captain, but he’d brushed off your concerns. Maybe he knew the reason behind the lieutenant’s name being held off the passenger list.

It’s all moot now anyway.

“Can’t bring a ghost on a flight,” he says darkly, like it’s a joke. Like you’re in on it together. “Can’t put it on the roster at least. S’bad luck after all.”

It’s a monstrous joke at a time like this. Your life feels cracked in half and the scarred brute of a man that pulled you from the wreckage makes jokes like it happens to him every other day. When the sky splits later that night and pours out a lake’s worth of rain, it feels appropriate. You huddle with the lieutenant at the base of a densely branched tree and shake.

Five weeks in the mountains go by slowly.

The shelter he builds is haphazard but meticulous, composed of various materials that Ghost scavenges from the plane wreck. A door becomes a makeshift roof. He makes you sit and wait as he collects dozens and dozens of branches, chopped down from the surrounding trees and fashioned into a lean-to. Padded with moss and leaves.

“I can help with getting the leaves,” you protest when he catches you hobbling around and carries you back to the nest of blankets and tarps that he’d pulled from the plane. He goes back every so often to see what remains and what can be used. It’s the only time other than when he hunts that Ghost leaves you alone for even a second, preferring to be within arm’s length of you the rest of the time.

“You can help by sitting your ass down,” Ghost grunts without even looking up at you.

You frown, fingers digging in the dirt by your feet. It’s a silly complaint but there’s never anything to do but wait.

In the early morning hours, Ghost goes off and hunts for you, when the world is still quiet and the animals are still asleep. They’re sluggish when dawn still hasn’t peeled its pink belly off the surface of the world. Ghost comes back with a deer slung over his shoulders one week, his knife still protruding from its neck, and your stomach only twists a little bit. Not used to seeing where your meat comes from.

There’s not much choice when you’re on your own in the elements. Every day, you expect to see a helo appear over the horizon, and you end each night crestfallen when it doesn’t.

It’s not like you haven’t completed basic training, a prerequisite to applying as a military flight attendant, but admittedly it’s been several years and basic never taught you to hunt for your food. You did other things that seemed, at the time, inconsequential to your career path, like learning to rappel and how to wait an hour for your NCO to show up for PT in the morning.

Even if your ankle hadn’t been badly sprained, you wouldn’t be much help. Ghost’s remarkably self-sufficient. It makes you question whether he’s done this before—whether he’s gotten stranded in the woods for weeks on end and had to learn to live hand-to-mouth.

“Have you…where’d you learn all of this?” you ask him in the dead of night, when the wind is a shrill hiss through the trees and you cower close to him in your sleeping bag (also salvaged from the wreck, though his has a tear down the side of it).

Ghost is quiet for a moment. “All over the place. Been doing this for years, love; had to learn.”

“Anything ever like this?”

Even with the absence of his mask, it gets so dark at night that you can’t see his face. You can hear the wry smile that plays on his lips in his voice though. “I’ve had worse days.”

There’s a story there that you see like a fish darting under the water. Too quick for you to catch with your bare hands.

You wake up with your cheek pressed against his pillowy chest most days. It’s embarrassing at first, but you learn to let it melt off you when you meet Ghost’s eyes and there’s nothing there but piercing blue. They root you in place most of the time but they never tell you to move.

It takes a while before your ankle starts noticeably healing. In the intervening weeks, Ghost almost dotes on you, in a rough, untested sort of way. Like he doesn’t have much experiencing tending to another person besides himself for weeks on end. As the weeks drag on, it morphs into something unrecognizable, like a wounded animal healing wrong.

It starts when Ghost insists on sharing sleeping bags. It’ll be easier for him to pull you close if something tries to drag you off in the night (and doesn’t that thought put you on the brink of a panic attack until he shushes and soothes you). It escalates when you make the mistake of tending to the meat hanging over the fire while he fiddles with the little radio he’d dragged back from the plane, and the look he gives you when you tell him that supper is ready borders on reverent.

It gets even worse when he has you both strip your clothes off on a particularly cold and rainy night, wrapped around each other for warmth.

“Sweetheart, you’re shaking,” you hear him rumble, big hand drawing a line down your back. You do tremble at that. “C’mon, get closer. Gonna warm you up.”

You wake up in the middle of the night when your ankle is starting to feel solid enough that you think you can manage to go off on your own to relieve yourself instead of waking Ghost up again. That’s the plan anyway. Before you’ve even managed to crawl all of six feet away from your sleeping bag, a rough hand pins you by your shoulder to the ground and the heavy, over two-hundred pound body of your companion drapes itself over you.

“Where the fuck do you think yer going?” Ghost snarls.

For the first time in a week, there’s a moment of genuine fear. It’s like realizing for a split second that the animal you’ve let creep up behind you is a lot more dangerous than you thought it was.

“I have to pee,” you whisper-hiss, heart still skittering in your chest.

He’s silent behind you while he mulls that thought over; you think maybe he’s still half-asleep, his body acting on instinct before his brain’s ready to take over. The tension only releases you when he finally picks himself up off you, but it’s immediately made worse when he insists on accompanying you into the woods.

He doesn’t even turn around while you pull your underwear down and squat. Ghost’s eyes are bright in the dark, trained on you like it’s the thing that gives him purpose.

Things change in the woods. There are people who are only one bad thing away from reverting to their neolithic mind; as the weeks go on, you see the way his eyes change when they fall on you, no longer detached but gluttonous.

There’s a brown bear that slouches past your camp one day, sniffing around only because it’s curious, and Ghost all but completely obstructs your vision with how he shoves you behind him. He puffs up big when the bear gets too close, keeping you hidden until it snorts and ambles off, not interested in the pair of you.

Do animals act like this? He curls you around him in sleep, legs tangled together. When you soak in the lake under the glare of the sun, he slips into the water and comes up behind you until his hands close around your waist and he tugs you closer to the edge, away from the deeper parts. It’s testament to how long you’ve been out on your own that you’re no longer unaccustomed to the feel of his hands on your bare flesh.

His lips on your bare shoulder are a little less commonplace, but you only shiver and stare out at the mountains.

Then one day, you look up into the sky away from the sun and there it is, a black dot on the horizon at first. You scream for Ghost, who’s skinning a fish on a damp log near you and start waving your arms wildly in the air, unbridled joy streaming out of you. He’s quick to pull his mask on when the chopper lands a few hundred yards away and two similarly dressed soldiers spill out.

You ignore the stiffness in his body as he sits beside you in the chopper, pinning you against the side. Ignore the way he answers for you when the men start asking questions.

What does it mean to come back worse?

“Wha’s that, love?”

“Trauma bonding,” you repeat, swallowing nervously. It’s months later, but the weeks on the mountain and the forest still haunt you. The real world seems flimsier now that you’re back in it, less real somehow. Here, no one hunts for their food. “The therapist said that we trauma bonded. And—and that’s why you won’t—”

Here’s where the words can’t seem to come out on their own.

He sleeps in your bed these days—can’t stand to be more than a room away from you at any given time. Follows you into the bathroom when you need to clean up at the end of the day, crowding you into your too-small shower. The you from a month ago wouldn’t have been able to imagine inviting a six-foot-four soldier into your apartment, but—and here’s where your brain scrambles a bit to catch up—you didn’t invite him in.

He lifts a brow. The mask comes off in your apartment, so you’re able to see the way his lips slip into something unimpressed. “Why I won’t what?”

You swallow. “You know. Leave.”

“Do you want me to leave, love?”

That’s the crux of it. The heart of it. You really don’t. In the dark sometimes, if the wind rustles outside your window just right, shrill like those weeks in the forest and out on the open plains, your heart pounds in your chest until it grows so tight that you think it’ll just stop.

“No,” you whisper in response to his question.

Most nights, you wake up drenched in sweat, still half in a dream where you turn your head and the other flight attendant is staring back at you with wide, empty eyes. Blood dribbling down from his head. Where a plane is ripped in half, grey metal strewn across a mountain and the valley below is a dark pit where you go to die.

Then you roll over in your bed and Ghost is there, already awake and cupping a wide hand over your cheek, laying kiss after kiss across your face. Murmuring that it’ll be alright, that you’re safe. That he’s got you.

His breath is hot on your skin.

You let him roll you over and spread your legs when he says those things. Let him be a bit filthy after being so kind to you in the woods.

He spits on your pussy and rubs it in with a coarse thumb, chuckling when you yelp all breathlessly and squirm away. Sometimes when you fuck, he gets rough with you and slaps it, but he’s always tender with you after a nightmare, content to sooth you with his mouth on your pussy until you’re close to hyperventilating.

“S’alright, sweetheart,” Ghost breathes, spearing you on his turgid length, barrel chest heaving when he finally crams it all in. Always a bit too big for you to take without crying. “I got you, I’ve got you. Not gonna let anything happen to you.”

It’s a new development, but it feels older than time. You could’ve let it happen in the woods and you might have, if no one had ever come.

“Look at me, sweet girl,” he tuts when you turn your head to the side, holding your face in one hand until you have no choice but to stare at the bulk of him straining over you. He has shoulders like mountains that roll when he pushes into you. “Didn’t I say I’d take care of you?”

You don’t want to acknowledge what this is: that you found something in the woods and it followed you home.

#cod mw2 #ceil writing #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost/reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod

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tongue-like-a-razor · 6 months

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Hotter Than Texas | Part I

(unofficially: Brother's Worst Enemy)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

Alrighty y'all, this is for everyone who has so patiently waited for me to make this a thing XD Not sure if I could squeeze a whole series out of this one but we shall see. Maybe at least a part 2. Enjoy!

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Aka it's a road trip, strap in.

CW: swearing, age gap (10 years)

The mission is simple. Collect Seresin Junior from the train station near the main gate of the base and deliver said cargo to the Seresin homestead in Eastern Texas on his way to Atlanta, Georgia for a long overdue visit with his grandparents. It isn’t rocket science. It sure as hell doesn’t hold a candle to the canyon run he pulled off just the other month. And yet, Bradley’s drumming his fingers anxiously on the hood of his Bronco as he leans into its frame, waiting on the trolley from downtown San Diego.

While Jake and Bradley have recently made peace after their longstanding cold war, Bradley isn’t exactly thrilled to meet another one of his kind. Besides, he isn’t one for small talk, and the prospect of spending the next two days with a complete stranger is downright daunting. He prefers music to conversation and he’s hoping that his road trip companion won’t be offended when he turns up the radio and forgets there’s anybody else in the car.

When Hangman had asked for the favor, he assured Bradley that he was his last choice – which wasn’t exactly a compliment, but Bradley appreciated the gesture, nonetheless. By the end of the term, there was nobody from their squadron left on base except Bradley, and he would be heading east anyway, might as well provide shuttle service while he’s at it.

As the trolley whistles into the station, Bradley pushes off his car and straightens his back, watching the tinted windows as they zip by, a blur at first and then gradually separating as the trolley comes to a stop.

Bradley leaves his car to walk around the fence, not quite sure how he’s going to be greeting a person he’s never before seen, but it’s not like he’s going to fashion a sign for the occasion. He sticks his hands into his pockets, the breeze picking up his unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt like a parachute before it starts whipping around his torso in the wind tunnel on the platform.

He glances around at the commuters stepping off the trolley, trying to pick out the blondes that might resemble his colleague, when he feels a tap on his shoulder. He turns his head, just as you say, “Rooster, right?”

He blinks at you, slightly disoriented. You look nothing like Hangman, thank fuck, because Bradley can’t take his eyes off you and, as inappropriate as this reaction is, it would make it that much worse if you did. He gives you a sideways grin. “What gave me away?” he says.

“My brother told me to find the dorkiest guy at the station,” you respond, grinning at him.

Bradley chuckles. “So, you’re walking to Texas, then,” he says, stepping around you.

You laugh, struggling to redirect the wheels of your suitcase.

Bradley bends down to grab the handle. “I can take that,” he says, tucking away the retractable bar and lifting it off the ground by the strap.

“Thanks,” you say, cringing slightly as Bradley lifts the luggage as though you’re embarrassed by its weight.

But after the countless exercise drills over the years, Bradley hardly notices that it’s heavy. In fact, he could probably carry it over his head. He eyes you inconspicuously as you fall in step with him, wondering if perhaps that might impress you – not that he wants to impress you.

“Actually, he said I couldn’t miss you because you’d be a head taller than everyone else, and probably wearing a very bright shirt.”

Bradley looks over at you with a grin. “Hopefully I didn’t disappoint?”

You eye his shirt flapping in the breeze. “I found you, didn’t I?”

Bradley lifts your suitcase into the trunk of his car and walks around to open your door for you.

You give him a suspicious look. “Thanks,” you say.

Bradley nods at you, offering a hand to help you in. Once you’re seated, he shuts the door behind you and exhales unsteadily the kind of sigh that often accompanies a guilty conscience. There’s no way he could possibly get entangled in a mess of this magnitude. And a colossal mess it would become if he were to develop any sort of soft spot for his recent enemy’s baby sister. Bradley, being a sensible, mature adult, understands this unequivocally. But, when he rounds the car and climbs into the driver’s seat next to you, the notion that he’s not allowed under any circumstances to find you attractive flies right out his rolled down window.

This is because you’re already tuning the radio like you own the place and because you smell like a goddess. Bradley has no clue whether it’s your hair or your perfume or your goddamn essence that’s permeated his upholstery in under ten seconds, but whatever it is, he certainly wouldn’t mind smelling it on his sheets in the morning.

Fuck. He’s fucking fucked.

“This alright?” you ask casually, as if you didn’t just hijack a stranger’s radio.

He cringes at the stereo; he’ll have to work on your taste in music. “Got your seatbelt on?” he asks as he pulls out.

You turn around in your seat and pull on the seatbelt.

Bradley promptly hits the breaks and you lurch forward slightly, the seatbelt in your hand getting stuck on its way out. He looks over at you with an air of seriousness despite the small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “The seatbelt should be the first thing you do when you enter a vehicle.” Not fiddle with the radio, he adds silently.

You raise your eyebrows at him in amusement. “Okay, dad.”

Bradley nearly shudders at your response. He’s probably a good ten years older than you, so, really, while dad might be stretching it, you’re not too far off. “Keep up that attitude and you’ll be listening to Metallica the whole way home.”

You smirk at him. “I like Metallica, so joke’s on you, bud.”

Bradley starts driving again. “If you like Metallica, then why are we listening to this trash?”

Your jaw drops and you reach for the volume dial to turn up the song. “How dare you?”

Bradley rolls his eyes. Something tells him he’s in for a wild ride.

…

About two hours later, Bradley pulls into a small gas station just past the border into Arizona.

“Want something to eat?” he asks, leaning across the console to pop his glove compartment and pull out his wallet. “Or drink?”

You purse your lips. “I could go for a coffee.”

“How do you like it?” he asks.

“With a pinch of salt.”

Bradley gapes at you. “I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

You snort. “I’m not joking. You should try it! Cuts the bitterness in half, my friend.”

Bradley cringes. “The bitterness is why I drink it.”

You shake your head and declare wisely, “You’ll see.”

“That you’re a nutcase?” Bradley mutters under his breath as he exits the car. He jogs over to the convenience store, determinedly blocking out the seductive quality of your persuasive tone. You could probably convince him to drink a pint of his own urine if you set your mind to it.

Bradley drums impatiently on the counter, waiting for the clerk to finish restocking one of the shelves with chips. While he’s waiting, he glances out to check on you as if you’re a child under his charge. You’ve stepped out of the Bronco to stretch your legs and Bradley doesn’t like the way the two guys in the convertible in behind are eyeing you.

Bradley cranes his neck to check on the clerk’s progress and lets out a stifled sigh. When he looks back outside, he sees that one of the men has approached you and, well, Bradley isn’t about to wait to see what happens next. He drops a bill on the counter and calls out, “Keep the change,” to the clerk before practically slamming his way through the doors with the coffees in his hands.

Why it bothers him that some random dude might want your number is not of consequence. What matters is that Bradley gets rid of this asswipe before you start enjoying his company.

He strides confidently past the man chatting you up and stops right in between you and him, handing you a coffee.

“Careful, it’s hot,” he cautions moodily, not entirely sure how to go about handling a situation in which, objectively speaking, he has no real authority.

You meet his gaze with a small smile. “You don’t say,” you respond with all the sultriness of a blazing, desert sun.

Bradley’s gaze remains unwaveringly on you as he unhooks a pair of Ray-Bans from the neck of his muscle shirt and slides them over his eyes. “Ready to go?” he asks in a level tone, hoping he can avoid what is bound to be an unpleasant interaction with the man still standing behind him.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” the man speaks up. “Didn’t realize you were with someone, honey.”

Bradley keeps his eyes on yours for several moments longer, trying his best not to show the irritation he feels at the way this rando just called you ‘honey’. Reluctantly, he turns to face him, wondering what in the world he could say that wouldn’t make him sound jealous as fuck.

But before Bradley could speak, you slide casually into his side, leaning on him like it’s the most natural thing. “That’s just fine,” you say to the man. “No harm, no foul.”

Bradley looks down at your head as it nestles into his shoulder and then lifts his arm to let you move in closer. Trying to play it cool, he skims the tips of his fingers across your lower back, which is warm and feels like the perfect place to rest his hand.

Convertible guy promptly departs, and Bradley is left standing in an embrace with the one person on the entire planet for whom he should never catch feelings, at a derelict gas station on the outskirts of arid Yuma, Arizona, and the heat is really starting to get to him. Slowly, you start to peel yourself away and Bradley, sensing your withdrawal, drops his hand and recoils from you like you’ve burnt him.

Did it feel nice pretending you were his girl? Sure did. Is he going to erase it from his memory and never let himself so much as shake your hand again? Absolutely.

Read Part 2

Tag List

I’ll be tagging the rest in the comments probably tomorrow!

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valtsv · 7 months

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i get asked so often why i walk fast that i've been forced to actually consider it and come to the conclusion that having a preference for heavy boots with steel toes and chunky platform heels has forced me to compensate in order to keep up with other people to the point that it's done some rock lee training weights shit to me. if the mafia strapped cinderblocks to my feet and threw me in the river to sleep with the fishes i could probably swim to shore just fine.

#🐉

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yndrgrl · 1 year

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yandere! kiribaku are your gym crushes, & you're their obsession

long ass fic. polyamory. quirkless! au. established! kiribaku. switch! kiribaku

warning: nsfw, voyerism, kiribaku seggsy time, stalking, spit-roasting, double penetration, cockwarming

a/n: i hope y'all like big boyz (please request scenarios) also can someone tell me how to reply to comments or something... idk how to. also writing this took forever cuz it kept deleting parts frfr

let's be mutuals :) insta: thebufferfish

---

kirishima was the first one to notice you out of the pair. you showed up at the gym an hour after him & bakugou arrived. something drew him to you, his eyes trailing you into the locker room.

you didn't wear anything "high fashion" per se, just what you felt confident in. boy, did it show. you walked back out with a certain aura around you-- sure, ready to work, & determined. whatever goal you had in mind for that training session, you were going to achieve it, kirishima could tell.

"oi! what are you looking at, shitty hair?" bakugou scowled as he arose from the bench, reracking the weight then followed his boyfriend's eyes. he saw your figure facing away from him. you were on the treadmill at walking speed. his breath hitched for a moment, but he blamed it on working out. he tried to rationalize that he hasn't even -technically- seen you, & you're probably just an extra in his movie anyways.

after your warmup, you went for a squat rack, where you would stay for a good portion of your workout. you started off with squats-- tried & true. you had big, bulky headphones on & your hair tied up out & away from your face.

bakugou & kirishima got a good look at your face through the reflection of the giant mirror that lined the walls. you loaded your weight for your warmup, & bakugou scoffed.

"what is that chick even doing?" he rolled his eyes to kirishima, turning his back on you. he swatted away any curiosity that he had for you.

he heard you rerack the weight, take off the clip, & slide off your warmup weight. he examined kirishima's usual happy expression turned into one of shock, approval, & a hint of arousal. bakugou would've been offended, jealous, cursing his boyfriend with every name under the sun due to this reaction.

"what is it now?" he groaned, turning his head back to face you. he was expecting maybe you flashed kirishima, maybe you somehow seduced him with siren power, but he wasn't expecting you, with a leather weightlifting belt strapped against your stomach, squatting way more than expected. if they were being honest, it almost looked inhuman, yet you had no indication that you were struggling.

kirishima breathed out, "you know, kats, she's actually kind of strong."

bakugou knew kirishima, of course he did. he knows all the little tendencies he does when he feels a certain way. when he's nervous, he has a smile that's stretched a little too wide; when he's angry, his normally-bright red eyes turn blood crimson-- almost black. that's why, when he saw his partner adjust his pants & bite his lip, he knew kirishima was undoubtedly attracted & turned on.

"is that all it takes to get you going?" bakugou barked at the redhead, angered, not because he was jealous, but because he was puzzled. truly puzzled. he was so content with the life that him & kirishima had, the routine they fell into. wake up together, get ready & eat breakfast together, have some morning fun, go to the gym, work, come home, have more fun, sleep. that was their life.

yet here comes you, a random stranger with the brute strength of hercules & the beauty of a goddess. you wrecked their unsaid routine.

"what are you talking about?" kirishima questioned when he tore his eyes away from you. he just watched you add more weight to your next set.

"are you that easy?"

"katsuki, you're one to talk," kirishima laughed, switching positions with his partner so he could begin his set of bench press. "i saw you look straight at her ass, & don't deny it 'cuz i watched your eyes."

"i don't know what you're talking about," katsuki growled. his boyfriend unloaded the weight, bringing the weight down to his chest then pushing it back up. even when struggling under a mass of metal, kirishima had a small smile on his face.

"yeah, you do," kirishima uttered out between his reps. "i can see your hard-on right now."

"shut up!" bakugou yelled. kirishima & bakugou's eyes darted towards you & met your semi-scared gaze in the mirror.

"katsuki," kirishima reracked his weights then sat up.

bakugou lowered his voice, saying, "listen, shitty hair, i'll admit that she got me a little bit hard, okay? but i'm not going to do anything about it, i'm loyal to you-"

"i want you to," kirishima laughed, cutting off his partner's endearing, aggressive rant.

"what?"

"i want you to do stuff to her," the redhead reiterated, "i want to do stuff to her. honestly we're both attracted to her, & i wouldn't mind sharing you if it's with someone like her."

"what if we get to know her?" kirishima suggested, sly smirk glued on his face. bakugou couldn't help but copy.

that night, after snooping through your gym bag when you went to the restroom, they found out your name was y/n l/n & your instagram username, thanks to your notifications.

over a quick dinner they made when they got home, they scrolled through your posts. they learned that you were nineteen, three years younger than them. they found what college you're studying at & what major you went into. more importantly, they found all the progress pictures, selfies, & outfit-of-the-day pictures.

whether it was posts themselves or past stories, they screenshot them all. every single one. the more they looked at you, the more they realized how good of a choice they're making by perusing you-- not that you knew that yet.

then they found the gold mine. you're a college girl trying to live it up while you're still young, that much they gathered. what they didn't expect was to see you & your friends (the important part is you though) in costume that bordered lingerie. the post's caption was, "baby rave!"

it felt sinful to see you in such a way. at the gym, you're pristine, well-mannered. in this post, however, you are a complete party girl with lights of different colors radiating, confetti in your hair, & an alcohol-induced flush on your face.

you wore a dark red bikini top that barely held your breasts. metallic chains draped around your body, all connected by a black pearl choker. your bottom matched the top, & you wore ripped-up fishnets underneath.

if bakugou & kirishima were there that night, they would've fucked all of your holes in the middle of the mosh pit.

grunts & sloppy slurps echoed off the walls of the room they shared. "ah, fuck, eijiro," bakugou groaned, his eyes shifting to the man sucking his cock to the pictures of you at a rave, letting your friends jokingly squeeze all over you. he wishes that was him & his boyfriend's hands all over you.

kirishima coughed, spit & pre-cum mixed sliding down bakugou's cock. "choke on that dick, babe," the blonde taunted. in response, kirishima shoved his head down onto his length then moaned. the vibrations sent shock waves through bakugou through the tip & into the rest of his body.

not long after, bakugou forced kirishima on his feet. he stood with him, both of their impressive sizes in his grasp, pressed against each other. he spat onto kirishima's girth, & already was kirishima jacking his hips forward for friction. "god, fuckin' do it already," demanded the redhead, biting his lip. bakugou stroked their cocks simultaneously as kirishima crashed his chapped lips against his.

soon, they were moaning into each other's mouths, eyes cracked open to see the picture of you propped now on the bedside lamp. "oh fuck, i need her so bad," bakugou admitted, & kirishima's heart leaped out of his throat. he could've won a marathon with how wide his panting smile was.

"tell me how bad you need her, kats~" kirishima said as he slipped out of his boyfriend's grasp & got behind the blonde. he reached around bakugou's waist, making him face the photo of you with your hands spreading your ass ever so slightly, only fishnets & a bikini bottom covering your most precious parts.

the bulky redhead, with his other hand, lined his tip with bakugou's hole. "i need her bouncing on my cock while she's choking on your massive fuckin' dick," bakugou responded, & he was rewarded with kirishima pushing past his entrance with his tip & him pumping faster.

"what else? that can't be the only thing," kirishima laughed. "i know how crazy you can actually be."

"'gonna ruin her so bad, she'll only need us. god, she's gonna become our cute, little house wife."

"oh yeah?" kirishima pushed his entire shaft into bakugou asshole, & they groaned together. bakugou leaned his body into the bigger man, shutting his eyes as kirishima pumped him hard, thrusting in & out of him.

"fuck yeah," said bakugou, "she's gonna -harder, bastard- she's gonna our fucktoy house wife, addicted to our cock. i'm gonna fill her up every night of the rest of her life, i swear to god."

they both looked back at your picture, your stunning body, every curve & every muscle & every stretch mark. they were obsessed, needy. "f-fuck, ei, i'm gonna cum," bakugou choked out, brows furrowed & concentrated on your photo.

"me t-too," kirishima said, thrusting harder into his boyfriend. thinking about you already felt good, so what would it feel like if you were actually here? they both wondered. great minds think alike, after all.

in kirishima's hand, bakugou's cock started to throb, jets of cum shooting out & onto your picture, all over the night stand. kirishima followed in suit; he pulled his cock out of bakugou's gaping hole & jerked himself off to you. "y-y/n," he moaned, releasing his cum all over you.

you didn't know any of this, you didn't know just how badly they wanted you, what they did to the mere thought of you. you were unaware of a lot of things, it seemed to them. you didn't know how perfect you were, always hiding your stomach by crossing your arms over it when you sat down. you didn't know how much you teased them when you swayed your hips.

& you didn't know how much you ruined their daily routine.

they found themselves less present at the well-oiled machine of a company they own; not that it mattered, they only go for a few hours every week just for check ups. they spend an ungodly amount of time at the gym, taking note what time you show up on certain days. they figured out your workout routine, what machines you like using, how often you refill your water bottle, what supplements you take.

you couldn't help but notice them as well-- not to the extent they notice you though.

they were eye-catching, everyone in the room would find themselves magnetized to their hulking selves.

bakugou was intimidating, wearing tank tops & loose fitting pump covers. he was at least six foot two, weighing in at 230 pounds of nothing but pure, raw muscle. he looked like he was born with a scowl on his face. unkept, wild ash-blonde hair, a small stubble growing in neatly.

kirishima was the opposite. he was approachable, a friendly giant. he was bigger than his counterpart, standing at a terrifying six foot six & weighing nearly 300 pounds. he was always found with a smile on his face-- happy to be there. he wore tight fitting, long sleeve shirts. small scars littered his hands & clean-kept face.

they shared one thing though, their demon red eyes, lasered in with focus & intent.

you noticed them & how ridiculously handsome they were. just from their appearances, they were just your type.

you moved into the city from a small town on a full-ride scholarship to the local university. you wanted to experience everything city life had to offer because everything was different. from the concerts to the markets to the men. no one would ever describe you as meek in most aspects of your life. in school, you were hard-working; in your career, you were ambitious! however, when it came to your love life, you were subtle.

other girls approached the two musclemen, chatting & giggling. you watched as the girls gave them their socials before leaving to finish their workout. you, on the other hand, would use a machine close to the one they were using. yup. that was it. that was your grand, big gesture of flirtation & seduction.

when you got lucky & they would look your way, you averted you eyes every time with a dark blush (that you blamed on your workout) as heat flashed through your body. you were only meant to watch from afar, you thought.

bakugou was the first to approach you. blunt as ever, too. it made kirishima want to die of embarrassment. "oi! you!" he called out, but you could barely hear his voice through your noise-canceling headphones. you pushed one side off of your ear, turning your head to see who he was talking to. it was you. "you new here?"

it's been two weeks since you started going to this particular gym, which means it's been two weeks since they've been trying to get your attention so you'd talk with them.

"oh, uh, yeah, i am," you told them as you slid off your headphones, letting them hang on your neck. the music buzzed quietly, you doubt they could hear the song. "j-just moved here." you cleared your throat. since when do i stutter, you mentally face-palmed.

"really? from where?" kirishima butted in. them standing in front of you, only a few feet away made you feel tiny.

you said the name of your town, & bakugou snorted, "i've never even heard of that place. sounds lame."

"compared to here, it is. there's nothing to do over there besides working out & hike," you said with a small smile. most people said that about your town so you never really took offense.

"how do you like it here?" kirishima asked.

you could gush about the city all day. you didn't want to bore them though. "i love it here! there's always something to do. the other day i went to my first rave, & there were more people there than people that live in my old town!"

kirishima laughed at your sudden excitement. they were both relieved that you weren't a raging bitch, that you had such a sweet, lovely personality. truly, beautiful inside & out.

in the city, it was so hard to find gems, yet, without even needing to look, they found you. that must mean that you were meant to be theirs, right?

"tch, you probably aren't that interesting, huh?" the ashen blonde spat, even though he was completely enamored by you.

it caught you by surprise. "you're one to talk, big guy. i've probably lived more life than you," you barked back, half-jokingly & half-warning.

with a staggered laugh & a glance at his amused/annoyed partner, kirishima said, "you got a bite on ya', i like that. please excuse him, he's intimidated by pretty ladies like you."

the people back in your old town always told you that city boys had no charm, that they weren't capable of actual romantic emotion, but this red-haired, toothy-grinned man is proving them all wrong. he was smooth with words, easing your mind.

"i'm eijiro, by the way," he said to you with his hand outstretched.

you secured your weights before taking his hand, to which he gently turned yours & placed a chaste kiss on your knuckles as you were introducing yourself. "i-i'm y/n."

anyone else would've been unbelievably jealous that their hunk of a boyfriend is -very clearly- flirting with another person, but bakugou honestly didn't care. in fact, he was giving eijiro a look that told him to keep going. bakugou knew that, out of the two of them, eijiro was more inviting.

you turned your attention away from eijiro. bakugou took this as a sign to introduce himself. "katsuki."

"katsuki," you repeated, holding out your hand to shake his. "got it, i'm y/n," you said in case he didn't hear you the first time.

the only ones who call him by his first name is his parents, his hunk of a boyfriend, & now, you.

eijiro & katsuki shot a look over you. "do it" eijiro could practically hear his partner demand. "so, y/n, have you been to any good restaurants?"

"there's a few i really like! i haven't seen any with my favorite food though," you said, & that made you remember that you were insanely hungry. as if on cue, your stomach grumbled in complaint. embarrassed, you tried to cough to cover up the fact you could eat a horse & then the whole barn.

eijiro shot you a smile. if he heard your stomach, he didn't say anything. instead, he offered, "what's your favorite food? i promise you that kats & i know a place."

you told them what your favorite food. they already knew though; you loved to post about it on your instagram highlights.

"no way, we were just about to head out to get some! you should come with," eijiro offered.

"i-i don't know," you said as you rubbed your arm. what if he's just being nice? what if he felt like he needed to invite you? those questions & then some circled your head.

"what don't you know, sweetheart?" eijiro questioned as he took your hand again, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. "we're not scaring you, are we?"

"n-no! that's not it!" you quickly denied. you didn't mean to give them that impression-- even though you were slightly intimidated by them. however, you were more nervous than anything. your two gym crushes are, not only, in front of you, not only talking to you, but inviting you to a restaurant with them. in your delusions, you pretended that it was a two-way date, even though it was just a friend hangout for sure.

"then what is it, baby?"

"you can just say you don't wanna go," katsuki said, rolling his eyes.

of course you wanted to go! it was a dream to have an opportunity to get closer to the two. "i do wanna go!"

"okay, then what's stopping you?" katsuki scoffed.

you admitted sheepishly, "i kinda spent a lot the other day on groceries & things from amazon."

eijiro was silent at first, then started laughing. "you're cute," he sighed as he let your hand go.

"listen, he didn't ask if you had money. he asked if you wanted to come with us, dumbass," katsuki said with a smirk. eijiro & him, before approaching you, had a long talk about how he needed to be nicer, so his lips turning upward ever so slightly was his "nicer."

"kats," eijiro warned, narrowing his eyes at his partner. katsuki gave a shrug as a response.

"i mean," you began, their attention turning towards you, "if you say it like that, i couldn't miss out on some good food." like a weight being lifted off of eijiro's chest, he let out a deep sigh of relief.

after you finish your last set, you headed to the locker room to freshen up while they waited for you. you fixed your hair, applied more deodorant just in case, & change your shirt-- also just in case.

they led you out of the gym, katsuki slightly in front of you. though his rough exterior, you saw how he was trying to be gentlemanly by making sure you were following him to the car. eijiro, once the car was unlocked, opened the passenger-side door for you. "are you sure?" you questioned while he slid off your duffel bag from off your shoulder.

he replied back, "yeah, i sit up there all the time anyways. it's tons more comfortable in the back for me."

you reluctantly sat in the front seat. the redhead threw himself into the back, placing your bag on the ground beside his.

katsuki slid into the driver's seat with his gym bag in hand. the moment eijiro sat up properly, katsuki threw his bag at his face.

laughter bubbled from you as you gasped out, "that was so mean!"

"yeah, that's why i did it," katsuki replied, getting more giggles out of you. he was in cloud 9, & so was eijiro. katsuki let himself relax to your laughter, falling for your voice. it was ten million times better than his favorite song, & if he had to choose his top band of all time or your voice, he'd never listen to the band ever again. eijiro would allow himself to get hit in the face with katsuki's duffle bag a thousand more times to see that expression on your face. smile wide, mouth agape, as you laughed for him.

"jerk," eijiro muttered, slapping the driver's shoulder.

"whatever," katsuki replied as he backed up the car, "it made the pretty girl over here laugh, so i don't really care if i was being a jerk."

you blushed at katsuki's sudden compliment. eijiro also seemed surprised. "i didn't think you had it in you, kats," eijiro praised, you thought it was because eijiro was just being a supportive friend. the other two knew that it was because of something deeper, something they've worked through in their relationship.

"hey, i got an idea," eijiro started, changing the topic, but you still couldn't get over how flirtatious the two were being. "how about we order takeout from the place? it's pretty busy around this time, so it'll be a wait until we actually get to sit down & eat. is that okay with you, y/n?"

"uh, yeah! if that's what you guys want to do, i don't mind," you said. "where would we eat though?"

"we can go back to our place?" eijiro suggested.

"yeah, i'd be okay with that as long as the two of you are okay with me coming over?"

"we are, don't worry," eijiro said, fishing his phone out of his gym bag. "i'm gonna start ordering, okay?"

while he ordered online, you began talking with katsuki. "i didn't know the two of you were roommates."

"roommates? yeah, i guess we're something like that," katsuki replied. he placed his right hand on the gear stick; he tapped his finger to the beat of the song you decided to play after they practically forced the aux cord into your hand.

"well what else would you call the two of you?"

"no, roommates describe us pretty well," katsuki lied. in his head, it wasn't technically lying. they split the chores, the bills, the rent, just like real roommates do. they grocery shop, they clean, they take turns mowing the lawn & keeping their plants green. the only difference is that they suck each other's dicks & fuck each other in the ass... roommates for sure.

katsuki glanced in the rear view mirror & made eye contact with eijiro. the shark-toothed man rolled his eyes with a knowing smile then continued to pay for your guys' food. he asked you earlier on the way out of the gym what you wanted to order to save time since he already planned in head you were going home with them.

"so how long have you guys been friends?" you asked to fill the silence.

"we've been friends since freshman year of high school," eijiro told you. he wasn't ready to reveal his relationship & how he wanted you to be a part of it yet as he didn't know your stance on polyamory.

"that's a long time! i don't have any friends from high school honestly," you recalled, your town was pretty small after all so all the people were just clones of each other, & it freaked you out.

"yeah, we're pretty good friends. i know kats here inside & out~"

by the time you arrived at the restaurant, the food was done & packaged. "i'll go get it, be right back," eijiro announced before getting out of the vehicle. katsuki had enough curtsy to park in the nearest space closest to the entrance.

"i'll come with you to get the drinks," katsuki said, unbuckling his seat belt. "just stay here & be pretty, easy enough, right?"

"oh, o-okay, i guess," you replied. the keys stayed in the ignition, air conditioner pumping cool air throughout the car. you pulled out your phone, texting your college friends about what was going on.

outside, eijiro pulled katsuki close, whispering in his ear, "be nice or i'll make you."

katsuki pried his lover's hand off of his neck with a scoff. "i am being nice. look at her, she doesn't care."

"i swear to god, katsuki, you're gonna fuckin' pay if you scare her off," eijiro threatened through gritted teeth. he brushed his fingers on katsuki's semi-hard cock through his sweatpants. eijiro took a deep breath, & katsuki stared at him with an amused expression.

by the time you looked up, they were already headed back with a plastic bag full of food & specialty drinks they wanted you to try. you smiled at the two of them, unlocking the doors when they got to the car. you didn't see the interaction between the two of them moments before. maybe if you did, you'd put two & two together.

the drive to their apartment only lasted a song & a half. you were expecting to pull into a regular, slightly warn-down apartment complex with four floors of rooms. instead, they drove into the parking lot of a glass building, a skyscraper to you-- just another tower to city folk.

"woah," you said, though you didn't mean to. "what is this?"

"it's where we live," katsuki said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"but... how? it's so fancy," you gasped.

katsuki parked the car as eijiro chirped, "you haven't even seen our apartment."

to call it an apartment was an understatement. it was a penthouse that could fit your apartment three time & still have room left. it was luxury at its finest, if you do say so yourself. you couldn't fathom how this could be someone's "regular."

the statement wall was nothing but glass, sunlight spilling into the living room. the high ceiling -along with the two men who towered over you- made you feel miniature. the decor matched the house, yet it didn't match eijiro or katsuki. it was pristine, minimalistic. when you pictured a boys' apartment, you thought it would be messy with random decor that don't match. hell, your dorm room was messier than their entire penthouse! at least, from what you could tell.

as they took off their shoes, you followed in suit. eijiro took you by the hand, saying, "allow me to give you a tour, sweetheart."

"i-if you insist," you stuttered out; you weren't used to the physical contact, even though it's happened a few times already. he showed you to the kitchen, which had a beautiful backdrop that complimented the countertop. all their kitchenware matched because why wouldn't it? even their barstools matched!

the dining space was nothing but a glass table with black chairs. the centerpiece was a black-tinted, glass pitcher with fake locks of wheat inside of it. "pretty cool, isn't it?"

"so fancy, i'm kind of nervous honestly," you half-joked, half-told-the-truth. seriously, who were these two? how could they afford this at their age? you figured they were around your age, maybe a few years older than you. you've met people who are twenty years older than you who don't have living spaces as nice as eijiro's & katsuki's.

"what? why?" asked eijiro, who sounded slightly offended. he caught that you were joking, but he was curious what made them so intimidating.

"it's just you guys are so put-together. i've never met anyone like the two of you," you told him, & it was true. you've never seen anyone so well-built in all aspects of their life.

eijiro laughed as he ran his fingertips through his spikey hair. "trust me, we had to work our asses off for this place. all the furniture & stuff came with it, so we never changed it."

he started to guide you to the living room, showing off all of their consoles that sat on the tv stand shelves. "any game you wanna play, we got," katsuki said from the kitchen, sounding proud of their collection.

"it's true. we love video games," eijiro told you with that same, charming grin that gets your face red. the way he kept flashing the smile made you think he knew how flustered it got you. "let me show you the rooms. that's probably the only place we decorated on our own."

as he led you through the hallway to the bedrooms, you took note of the framed pictures hung on the wall. it was a mixture of photos of katsuki & eijiro on their own & them two together. "you guys must be close," you stated, pointing out the obvious.

"yeah, we're really close," he said back. "believe it or not, but he's softened up over the years. katsuki used to be so much meaner back in high school."

"that's neat that you guys basically grew up together. i never really had like, a best friend," you revealed. you don't know why you were telling him this, you felt like you could though. "i'm jealous of people who can make those connections honestly."

"i lucked out. it's pretty hard to make deep connections, like you said," eijiro agreed, opening the door to guest room/office. "you make it sound like you've never had a relationship."

"i mean, technically i have," you admitted-- you didn't want to seem lame or inexperienced in front of him after all. "just not a long term one. it's hard dating in a small town where everyone already dated everyone else. you'd think that it be like, ten times easier to date in the city, but it's not!"

eijiro listened to your tangent, adoring how riled up you're getting. he didn't want you to stop, it was such an intimate moment -to him- that the two of you were sharing, just the two of you. "oh yeah? tell me more."

"my parents were right, city boys are so much more... direct. they can barely hold a conversation with me in person & over text then they flash me their... you know, thing. i mean, i get being horny & all, but i don't think i'd ever show off like that to get some. it doesn't actually work though, does it?"

"no, unsolicited nudes ever work. guys on dating sites are usually super desperate. you've already figured that out, huh?" eijiro asked, masking his anger (because you went out on dates with other guys) with fake interest. he already knows most things about you. it's not hard to get into chat logs if you know the right people.

"oh, yeah i have. i wasn't interested in this guy after one date, so i cut it off with him, but he kept texting me for two weeks straight. saying stuff like how i was a gold-digger then he'd apologize, asking for another chance."

"sounds terrible," eijiro replied as he exited the room, you following close behind. he opened the only other bedroom door, telling you briefly that it was his-- he's not a liar, he's just not telling the full truth. he sat down on the bed & offered a spot next to him so you can comfortably tell him all the things men did to you.

"maybe you're looking in the wrong places," said eijiro, his voice dropping an octave lower. his face inched closer to yours, but you didn't notice as you continued your rant.

"it is terrible! another guy took me on a date to this really nice restaurant & he brought both of his parents & his little sister! said something about how we were going to get married because it was god's plan. it was actually really scary at the time. i give up on dating."

"i don't even know where to look! i mean, i guess the gym is a good place to find guys with goals like mine; they're usually misogynists or taken though. you & katsuki are the only ones i'd actually date though, but you guys are swimming in girls-" you cut yourself off once you realized what you just said so clearly. "i mean, i know you guys aren't interested, & it's weird to have two crushes-"

"calm down, sweetheart," eijiro interrupted, & you looked up at him. you almost jumped once you saw how close he actually was. the tips of your noses nearly touched, his left hand was propped behind your back against the bed, his fingers toying with the waist of your pants. his other hand rested on your upper thigh. "i just need to know before i say anything more. do you think i can handle me?"

you nodded, shrinking away from him. could he hear how your heart pounded against your rib cage? your heartbeat rang in your ears as it muffled whatever he was saying. your voice was caught in your throat; you knew if you tried to talk, you'd just squeak.

"do you think you can handle katsuki?"

you nodded again.

"how do you feel about both of us? can you handle both of us?" his hand traveled up your body to cup your chin. all you could do was nod. you've never really thought about two men at once before until now. "use your words, y/n."

"i-i could d-date both of you," you said out of innocences. you didn't want him to know about all the dirty thoughts swimming through your head.

"ah-ah-ah~" he tsked. "i asked if you could handle us both because if you say yes, i promise you that you'll be more than just a date to us. you'll be our pretty, little girlfriend. so i'm going to ask you again; could you handle both of us?" you let your eyes wander for just a second. you saw katsuki leaning against the doorframe, a knowing smirk on his face. his hand readjusted his member, but it only brought attention to how it tented against his pants. you gulped.

"y-yes i can, i-i can h-handle both of you," you said, intrigued, curious. you could barely spit out that sentence before eijiro crashed his lips against yours. you let out a muffled squeak, & he took that as an invitation to let his tongue roam into your mouth.

a string of saliva connected the two of you when he pulled away from you. he turned to katsuki with a lusted expression with half-lidded eyes & a toothy grin. "you hear that, babe? she wants to be with us."

babe? you thought. babe is what you call a girlfriend... or a boyfriend. they watched as you finally realized why the two of them lived together, why the photos on the wall were them doing more-than-friend poses, why there wasn't another room for katsuki. "th-the two of you are, um, a-a thing?"

"took ya' long enough," katsuki taunted, sauntering towards the two of you. he grabbed eijiro by the throat, pulling him into a rough, passionate kiss. he threw his red-headed partner off of him as fast as he kissed him. he placed his hand behind your head, colliding your lips together.

once the two of you disconnected from each other, you tried to defend yourself. "i-i'm sorry! i r-really didn't know y-you two were dating!"

"yeah, we know," eijiro laughed, his hand roaming back down to your leg. "it doesn't matter though. you're worth sharing, you know that, sweetheart? you're so utterly beautiful that we couldn't help but fall for you. can you blame us?"

"you're just our type. motivated, real. you're just so fuckin' sexy," katsuki confessed. he sat down on the other side of you. he dragged you into another rough kiss, & eijiro latched his lips onto your neck. both of their hands began to touch you all over. eijiro's hand found itsway in between your legs, & you grinded against his thick fingers. katsuki's was under your shirt, under your bra, squeezing your flesh.

eijiro whispered in your ear as you made out with katsuki, "you want this, don't you? you really want us."

you moaned into katsuki's mouth as a "yes." your panties were stained with your slick at this point. your pussy throbbed in need, how much you needed them inside you. eijiro nipped at your neck again, marking you in hickeys & love bites. you threw your nervousness to the side as leaned against their arms. both of your hands started rubbing against their bulges. you pulled away katsuki, gently shoving him away. "y-you guys a-actually want me as a, you know, girlfriend?"

"we do, pretty girl. we want to be the only ones to love you, to need you. we're going to be the only ones you ever crave," eijiro purred into you ear as katsuki threw off his shirt. "tell me everything you're worried about so i can ease your mind~"

"a-are you sure you want me?" you uttered with a reddened face. this was nothing like you've ever experienced before.

katsuki butted in, "we fuckin' need you, idiot. how clear do i need to be." he grasped you by the throat, making it harder for you to breath. "i need you."

"i need you, too, sweetheart," eijiro whispered against your neck, which was littered with red marks. you didn't even realize that he stripped down to nothing but his grey boxers. out of his waistband poked his leaking tip, oozing precum for you. "say what you want from us~"

"i-i need you too! i need both of you!" you squeaked out, though you were nervous for what the future might hold, you wanted to experience this, them, to the fullest.

"good answer," growled katsuki, slipping off his sweatpants. "now strip. you can't be the only one hiding yourself."

you did as you were told in an instant. you threw off your shirt, &, with the help of eijiro, you took off your pants. as you stripped, eijiro pulled katsuki in for a victory, sloppy kiss. their tongues fought for dominance. you couldn't help but get more aroused as you watched the two & their passion.

to return the favor, you start peppering kisses on eijiro's neck. his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to his mass by grabbing the meat of your ass. you butterfly kisses turned into desperate bites to mark him. you sucked on his most sensitive spot; he moaned into katsuki's mouth, his eyes fluttering open just to roll in the back of his head. katsuki invaded his mouth with his tongue, making eijiro choke on their mixed spit & his thick muscle.

katsuki, though his eyes were shut, pulled his boxers down & stroked his length. every up-stroke caused more precum to bead out of his tip. it dripped down his shaft, being used as lube while he played with himself. katsuki was an impatient man, though. his own hand can't keep him satisfied for long. the hand that was tugging at his dick shot into your hair. he grasped a fist full of your locks, & he forced your face against his cock. all while he made eijiro's mind numb with nothing but his tongue.

you opened your mouth. one moment you took a deep breath, the next you were choking on katsuki's heavy dick. your eyes watered as he forced himself down your throat. you felt your throat bulge, you felt yourself gag, & there was nothing you could do but choke & cry.

the ashen blonde finally pulled away from eijiro, his other hand on the other side of your head while he thrusted in & out of your mouth. "kats, baby, don't be too rough with her~" eijiro told him, but he knew katsuki wouldn't listen. in fact, he knew he would do the opposite, & that's just what he wanted.

in retaliation, katsuki thrusted deeper down your throat. your hands pressed against his hips to try & stop & catch your breath. instead, he let go of your hair & grasped both your wrists & yanked them behind himself as they straightened. you were forced to take all 9 inches down your throat. drool dripped down your chin.

eijiro unclipped your bra from behind, & he sat you on his lap. his cock stood squished between your thighs. he bucked his hips forward, & your panties began to shape to your pussy lips. the cloth rubbed against your clit, a moan bubbled from your throat, but it was muffled thanks to katsuki's prick thrusting in & out of you mouth. "you said you can take us, prove it," hissed katsuki, glaring down at you while he fucked your pretty, little mouth.

eijiro slipped off you panties, strands of your wetness snapping away the further he pulled them down. katsuki finally shoved your face off his spit-coated dick. eijiro say you against the headboard so you were sitting. he was on his hands & knees in front of you.

katsuki was behind eijiro, a loud spank jolted the redhead forward. with your spit & katsuki's precum as lube, he thrusted into eijiro's asspussy. you watched as eijiro's eyes widened & his mouth hung open. "a-ah, fuck, kats," he moaned out as he abused his hole. eijiro locked gazes with you, then gave you that same, charming smile. through the slapping thrusts that filled the room, he asked, "does this get you excited, hm? you like watching us?"

you were speechless, so turned on beyond belief. all you could do was nod.

"you're so c-cute, y-y/n," he whimpered, his fingers finding your pussy. you spread your legs wider, & your juices gushed out. he inserted two fingers, it was already thicker than you've ever handled. he pressed his mouth to your tit, flicking your nipple with his tongue. you squealed as you stared into katsuki's eyes. his narrowed eyes stayed trained on you while his cock was buried in his boyfriend's ass.

you cheeks were still tear stained, your eyes red from pleasure. eijiro inserted a third finger. a hand, your hand, shot up to cover your screams of pleasure. katsuki pulled out of eijiro. he went to their shared bed stand & used a clean towel to wipe his dick.

eijiro, with no effort, carried you on to his lap as he fell to his hip so he was sitting down. he brought your knees to you ears. katsuki sat in front of you on a chair that was beside their full-length mirror. you could see everything; you could see eijiro's cocky expression, how wet your pussy was, how excited katsuki stroked his cock. "ready to prove you can handle me, sweetheart?"

"y-yes, eijiro!" you shouted, mind clouded with lust. "please fuck my pussy!"

following your command, he thrusted his entire girth into your weeping hole. you screamed in pain & pleasure, more juices leaking onto his lap. "y-you're so fuckin' big," you moaned out. he hasn't even thrusted yet, & you already saw stars. after a moment, he moved his hips. your tits bounced with ever thrust.

in the mirror, you saw how your stomach bulged when eijiro was balls deep inside you & how it would disappear when he pulled out, only to reappear when he slammed himself inside you. his thrusts were slow, but not gentle-- unlike katsuki's. "eijiro," katsuki said, getting bored of his hand. "my turn."

eijiro rolled his eyes, but he released your legs & lifted you off of him. "bend over, sweetheart. he loves your ass," eijiro told you, & you listened. katsuki stood up as you bent down in front of him, using your hands to spread your ass & pussy lips apart.

"god, you're too fuckin' short," katsuki growled. all of a sudden, your feet were off the ground as you were still bent over. eijiro grabbed onto your flailing hands. as a thank you, you shoved his slick-covered dick down your throat. katsuki wasted no time & fucked your pussy while you were airborne. his hands carried you by your hips. he used you like you were toy, pounding your cervix with his angry tip. eijiro didn't even have to move with how much katsuki manhandled you.

you were trying to scream as katsuki picked up the pace, but all that came out was spit & gags. "you're gonna break her," mused eijiro, feeling your arms go limp. you accepted that they were in complete control, & that there was nothing you could do about it.

katsuki didn't respond. instead, he groaned between thrusts, "take. this. slut. you're. such. a. fuckin'. tease." his deep, long strokes turned shallow & spastic. shots of hot, white cum coated every inch of your pussy. it swelled in your womb; you felt katsuki's cock twitch as your pussy milked every drip. you came with him, your juices squirting onto the ground, rolling down your leg.

with a few more thrusts, eijiro flooded your throat with his cum. his salty, bitter jets dribbled out of the corner of your mouth. katsuki set you down & pulled out, & eijiro followed. their cum leaked out of your holes onto the floor, & you collapsed on the floor. eijiro held you up by your arms.

"we're not done with you," he snickered as he carried you onto the bed. katsuki, who was already laying on the bed, had you lay on top of him. he held your legs open while his tip ghosted over your asshole. eijiro was in between your legs, straddling katsuki's. he readied himself at your entrance. he bent down to kiss katsuki, then you.

he & katsuki simultaneously shoved themselves into your throbbing holes. you let out a scream. you convulsed, legs shaking while you came all over them. through your release, they picked up the pace. when one was out of you, the other was buried inside you. because of your orgasm, you were more sensitive than usual. "i-it's too m-mu-much!" you cried while you came again.

"aw~ is my baby getting over stimulated?" eijiro cooed, yet his pace was still as harsh as ever. having both of them inside you made you feel so full. you could feel how much more length katsuki had, but eijiro had more girth.

"that's a shame," katsuki snickered. his hand found it's way in between your legs from behind. using his middle finger, he started rub your clit.

"s-stop! i-i'm go-go-"

"let it all out," was the last thing you heard before everything went white. all you felt was pleasure, they pumped in & out of you.

"m-more, more, more," you mindlessly moaned with every thrust. they gave you more, just to see your face every time you came. you don't know how many times they came inside you, it was all just a blur.

you loved how full they made you. your throat was scratchy because of their cocks, because of how much you screamed your name. you were covered in hand prints, hickeys, love bites, & their cum.

you don't know when you switched positions, but now the three of you were on your sides. katsuki was buried deep inside your pussy once again, releasing his seed deep inside of you. eijiro coated your ass in cum before inserting himself back inside your asshole.

they finally stopped moving. they were still buried in your tight, sore holes. you were sandwiched between them, connected to them. "go to sleep, good girl," katsuki praised, kissing your forehead. eijiro kissed your shoulder, then the two of them shared a kiss. your eyelids immediately shut. that's when you learned that you loved feeling full when you slept.

#anime and manga #kiribaku #bakugou katuski x reader #bnha eijiro kirishima #bnha katsuki bakugou #kirishima x reader #bakugou scenarios #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou drabble #bakugou headcanons #bakugou smut #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #bnha x reader #kiribaku x reader #mha x reader #yandere bnha

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boltnutrition · 2 years

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#weight lifting #women's weightlifting #sweight lifting exercises #weight lifting straps #fitness goals #weightlifting #weight lifting exercises #weight lifting for women #weight training #weight lifting equipment #immune systems #weight loss #nutritions

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luvnami · 8 days

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olympics men's volleyball team captain ushijima is so real to me

“ushijima wakatoshi.”

not even his mother calls him by his full name, damn it.

ushijima swallows the brick in his throat. he purposefully avoids your burning stare by fiddling with the straps of the gym bag in his hand, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. even though he’s much taller than you, he feels awfully small right now.

it’s almost comical that you in your pink pyjama set, arms crossed over your chest, and bits of sleep still stuck in your inner corner is enough to make ushijima wakatoshi, captain of japan’s olympics men’s volleyball team, cower in fear.

“you are running a fever. you are not going to today’s training,” you say firmly.

you stand between ushijima and the front door. if he tried, he knew he would have little trouble breaking out of the house. he figures that he could fireman lift you over his shoulder and dump you on the living room sofa.

“it’s barely a fever, i’ll be fine. it’s not right for the team if the captain doesn’t show up.”

ushijima regrets speaking up. the look you’re giving him right now could kill.

“what if you spread your fever to the other players? what if you pass out on court? who’s going to carry you to the hospital, ushijima? your face is red and you’re sweating. you’re going back to bed right now.”

a pang of pain shoots through his heart. not even wakatoshi? come on!

he sulks. it’s not obvious, but ushijima’s shoulders slump ever so slightly and he gives you a disgruntled look.

“fine,” he mumbles.

usually, your fiance doesn’t need reminders to take care of himself or the house. he cooks his own healthy meals, doesn’t let the dishes pile up in the sink, and reminds you to take your daily vitamins when you forget. however, even ushijima has his own shortcomings. he hates throwing out old items as long as they’re usable (you had to toss all his underwear that was worn through while he wasn’t home) and can be utterly stubborn when he’s sick, just like today.

you march ushijima back to bed like a prison warden. you take his temperature, shove the numbers 38.2°C in his face, and tuck him in like you would a baby.

“there,” you huff. “now rest.”

ushijima still wears an unhappy face. he hates it when he’s sick. it’s the one thing in the world that renders him helpless, and makes him more upset than when a player blocks his spikes multiple times in a row.

he didn’t want to miss out on today’s training. but his head was throbbing when he woke up this morning, and he barely made it to the front door despite his knees buckling twice. ushijima lets his heavy eyes fall shut and his sore body relaxes, headache throbbing in the back of his head. you’re right. he should rest.

ushijima just doesn’t want to admit that he feels weak.

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi fluff #ushijima x reader #ushijima fluff #hq ushijima #hq x reader #hq fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu ushijima

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yeyinde · 1 month

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thinking of big gross simon once more 😔

he’s just so fucking huge imagine him finally getting his precious girl home with him one night after work. he didn’t ask, obviously, just slipped a little smth extra into the tea he made her! it took her no time to fall straight into his arms

the ride back to his cabin has to be excruciating for him,, imagine having to keep his attention on driving when his girl is sat next to him. the urge to pull over and take you apart right tugged on him every couple minutes

when he does finally pull up imagine him gently peeling off your seatbelt and shifting your weight into his beefy arms uggghhhhhh 😖😖 his chest pressed against your side as he placed you down on the couch. takes him no time to go back out to the truck and grab what he needs,, a thick pair of leather cuffs and a chain.

maybe he traps her arms, hooking the chain into a loop on the floor. he does it so she won’t hurt herself trying to fight back, it takes nothing for him to put you in your place. the thought of getting too rough and breaking his favorite toy so soon didn’t rest easy with him… gotta keep her safe

or maybe he traps her legs, cuffs wrapped around her ankles. can’t have his little bird trying to escape the nest!! not until she’s finally trained! stops you from kicking or running from him, perfect to keep your legs together tight… but maybe seeing your limbs pressed together like that does something to him, makes his blood boil in a way no one else ever has 😏

big bloody hands rub your body down, mapping out every part before you even wake up. he can’t wait to break you in

-🧸 i’m horny.

ohhhhhh yeah. yes to all of this. i saw this tiktok a while back about this girl who was going skydiving or something. and the instructor was getting her harness on, and when he knelt down to do the straps on her thighs, he was basically eye-level with her. it fucked with me so good.

and now i can't stop imagining poor reader frantically searching for an escape after he chained you to the wall only to see Simon stagger back over with ankle straps in hand, drop to his knees in front of you, and suddenly you're eye-level with him. or the top is his head comes up to your chin and it's like. well. okay 🫠 guess i'm staying.

he probs secretly starts taking things from the slaughterhouse, too. hooks, chains. chain hoist. block and tackle. stockpiles it in his cabin for you. has everything prepared because this isn't a spur of the moment thing. everything is meticulously thought out. planned. has your routine memorised the first week of knowing you. no changes. home, work. groceries on the weekend. might stray to the odd friend's house on occasion. but it's shockingly easy to narrow your world down into home and his shop. even easier to tell everyone in town that you went back to home for a little while.

to your honeymoon, as he calls it, mockingly. mean. and you come to the horrifying realisation that he's more cunning than you gave him credit for when you ask why he's doing this, and he plainly says that he just wanted you. and so, he took you. simple as. old school prison mentality. finders keepers.

but don't worry. he'll give you a better one later on when you come back to town as a Riley.

you just have to learn how to behave.

#goddddd hes disgusting #and this is shifting more and more into the tcm au i think i deserve #rural America in the early 70s—farmland; maybe Texas a la the og #nobody and nothing for miles #simon ghost riley x reader

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incognit0slut · 8 months

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Pretty when you sleep

As newlyweds, Spencer couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Even when you were asleep.

warnings: (MINORS DNI!) fem reader, consensual somnophilia, unprotected sex, very minimum plot yet very heavy smut. words: around 2k

a/n: In another episode of me getting inspired by a clip that I turned into a gif and wrote something out of it🥴 if you want to read my other attempts at writing a blurb based on gifs, find the hashtag #gifwriting on my page. Also, I can't believe this is my first fic of him as a husband.

YOU WERE TOO PRETTY TO RESIST. You just looked so goddamn tempting while laying on your stomach like that. It didn’t help when the strap of your nightgown fell from your shoulder, uncovering the swell of your breast.

You were so breathtakingly beautiful. So soft. So irresistible.

Spencer always made sure he had your consent every time he touched you. He grew to understand what you liked and didn't like when it came to sex, and sure, maybe thinking of brushing his fingers along your skin while you were unconscious wasn't the best idea. But he couldn't help it. You were just too inviting to resist, so he placed a hand on your hip.

You stirred at the sudden contact he initiated and unconsciously readjust into a more comfortable position, your toes curling before relaxing once more. When you finally stopped squirming around, he reached out again, letting his rough fingers travel up your exposed leg. He started at your knee before going further up between the apex of your plush thighs, where that sweet little cunt of yours was waiting for him.

You were still asleep, even as he started to carefully stroke you, dragging a single knuckle up and down against your thin panties and suppressed a groan as he felt the heat radiating from underneath the material. Your breathing pattern began to change as he continued with his teasing. By the time he circled your clit and added the slightest amount of pressure on it, you started to pant and push your ass higher into the air in response.

He smiled. You wanted this.

Of course, you did. The way your body reacted to his touch spoke for itself. You were already getting so wet that your panties were turning damp and sticky with arousal. He continued to massage your clit through the thin cotton, and he watched in awe as your breath hitched in your throat, almost as though you could feel his actions even when you were unconscious.

Spencer kept his eyes trained on your body as he moved to dip your panties down your legs, carefully lifting your body up just enough to slide them down your curves, allowing them to sit around one of your ankles. Then he carefully slipped off his own clothes, trying to keep as quiet as possible, before his palms splayed against your body to move you onto your back.

“So pretty," he mumbled under his breath as he took note of your loose nightgown and the way it had risen up, exposing more of your skin to his prying eyes. He moved over the mattress slowly, making sure you were still fast asleep, and slipped between your now parted legs.

God, how had he become so lucky? Having you reciprocate his feelings was already a surprise when he confessed, but it surpassed his expectations when you agreed to be his girlfriend. Ten months of pure bliss was what he felt throughout your relationship, and when he noticed some of your clutter in his apartment, he wanted to see it every time he came home.

And now, miraculously, you were his wife. The word carried a weight of joy and wonder that he couldn't quite fathom. Every morning waking up to your shared life, and every night falling asleep next to you, felt like a dream too good to be true.

Granted, you've shared intimate nights so much that he should've gotten used to your body by now. Yet, every touch felt as electrifying and exhilarating as the first time and he found himself still captivated by the warmth of your presence. Even now as he fisted his cock, giving himself a teasing tug as he ran his thumb against the tip, his eyes raking your exposed body.

The way your legs parted for him, showing off your wetness and how already swollen you were even when he was barely touching you. His gaze swept over your exposed breast that slipped out of your nightgown and he brushed a thumb against one of your stiff peaks, feeling the way you trembled beneath him.

The way you shuddered made him jerk his hips against yours erratically, pushing his cock against your mound. Your body reacted to his touch, even in slumber, as your hips arched off the bed. His breath hitched when he rutted his hips forward. The sight of his cock against your abdomen showed him just how deep he would be inside you.

He then eased his hips back to drag the thick, swollen tip through your outer lips. His eyes focused on the way your pussy spread for him, as though inviting him inside. Your arousal coated his swollen head as he focused his attention on your clit, pressing down on it with his cock as he listened to the increased pace of your breathing.

He moved his cock back up as he let the underside split your folds open, resting his girth between them snugly as he let out a low groan at the heat radiating from your core. You were so fucking pretty it was unreal.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, holding onto the base of his cock as he started to drag the tip through your wetness again, grunting softly as it caught against your tight entrance. “Look at you swallowing me.”

Spencer exercised restraint as he gave soft, subtle thrusts into your aching cunt. His gaze flickered between your face and his cock splitting you apart as he continued pushing himself forward, feeling your body begin to resist his entrance as he tried to change the angle.

"I'm sorry, Angel," he whispered. His chest rumbled with a groan as he felt you clenching around his thickness, causing his eyes to snap up to your face in surprise, thinking that he’d wake you up. But you were still very much asleep. "I can't resist you."

He let out a sigh as he managed to thrust his hips further. He paused for a second to cherish the feeling of his cock being completely buried deep inside you, running his hand over your abdomen as he tried to feel himself inside you, pressing against your pelvis as he throbbed at the sensation.

He held your hips and slowly dragged his thick cock from your cunt, leaving the tip to keep you stretched out before plunging back inside. The restraint he once had now long gone with the way your body hungrily sucked him. His pace increased as he leaned forward, hovering his body over yours with his hands splayed on either side of your head. He sucked in a breath at the way your body adjusted to him, clenching around his cock as he kept rutting his hips.

And then you suddenly stirred. You moved slightly, your chin tilting upward, and your lips parting to release a breath. Your eyes slowly flutter open from your slumber as you feel the warmth of his body, the subtle shift of his weight, and the aching sensation between your thighs.

"What..." Your voice cracked as you turned to see him, only to let out a low groan at him thrusting a bit harder against you.

"Shh, it's just me," he whispered. The haze of your sleep lifted, and your gaze met him at the same time he leaned down, pressing his lips onto yours.

He captured your lips in a slow, passionate kiss. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip as your hands pressed to his chest, feeling his flushed, hot body against your own. You let him devour you while his hips increased in speed, rolling against yours as whimpers began to spill from your lips. Your thighs instinctively tightened around him, curses spilling beneath a heavy breath as the bliss filled your body.

"Spence..." you whimpered. You were breathless, eyes screwed shut, legs now parting even further to give him better access. Throughout the time you were in a relationship with him, you never imagined being woken up like this, but you weren't complaining. Not when you could feel his cock stretching you so deliciously.

Spencer was often embarrassed when it came to dirty talk, but once he realized how much you relished those whispered, filthy words, it became a personal mission to keep you thoroughly satisfied. Knowing how much you loved hearing those filthy words became a secret thrill for him, which was why when he leaned closer to whisper in your ear, you became a whining mess.

“You're always so tight,” he began, his voice deep and raspy, right in your ear before he nipped at the lobe, sending a gasp spilling for your lips as you reached for him in an overwhelming burst of arousal. “Look at you taking me so well. It's like your pussy is made for me.”

A rush of burning heat filled your body, his words affecting you with heat spreading from between your thighs to reach even your toes and fingertips. He buried himself between your neck while thrusting inside of you with rising desperation, pushing himself further, his body rolling against yours.

“Faster,” you begged him in a breathless whimper, all before your teeth sank into your lip, brow wrinkling, moans filling in your chest. It only took him a second to comply. The thrusts of his hips created a loud smack as drove his cock deeper inside of you. You couldn’t help but cry out, overwhelmed by the pleasure, squeezing yourself so tight around him that he let out a grunt.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned in your ear, having the proximately to tell you the dirty, nasty things on his mind. His lips brushed over your neck as he increased his pace. “I love fucking you like this.”

“Please… don’t stop—” You gulped with a brief pause. “Feels so... so good.”

He shook his head against your shoulder.

"I'm not stopping," he continued to whisper in his gruff voice, earning goosebumps on your quivering body. “I love feeling you this close.” He pressed an open kiss on your skin. "I love making you desperate."

“Fuck,” you cried out, body weakening with his every word. The sounds of him pumping into your slick, wet arousal became louder the quicker he thrust into you. “I-I’m getting c-close."

You continued to warble out broken sentences, trying to form any coherent thoughts but all you felt was the searing pleasure that flowed through you. The lewd sounds continued to fill the room as your essence dribbled down your ass and onto the bed, staining the sheets. "I-I'm gonna—"

“Come for me,” he encouraged, lips pressing to your skin between words. “Go on, come on my cock.” The choice words sent a shiver down your spine as the heat bubbled between your thighs.

“I'm coming,” you cried out, voice straining and struggling to speak from him leaving you so breathless. Your body tensed as the pleasure swelled through your body and his final confession toppled you right over the edge.

“I love this so much,” he groaned between you gasping as the first wave of pleasure surged through you, “I love you.”

You finally let go, toes curling in ecstasy as you arched your back, legs growing further apart. Your head spins from the warmth filling every inch of you as he fucked you through your orgasm. You gasped his name, overwhelmed with the bliss he offered, the emotions that drove you at his words. You wanted to say them back, but you couldn't even think properly as the wave of pleasure washed over you.

He continued to thrust, eyes closed, brow creased, lips parted, huffing and groaning and holding you tighter until he reached his own peak. The moment a heavy exhale left his lips, his hips slowed and his cock twitched, signaling the pleasure filling him as he released inside of you. You moaned at the sensation before he eased himself and collapsed on the bed, bringing you along with him as you settled on top of his body.

The two of you lingered in the aftermath of passion for a few seconds too long—breathless, hot, sweaty, and tired. When you lifted your head to look at him, you noticed the softness in his eyes, your heart fluttering at the sight.

"Well, good morning to you, Dr. Reid," you teased.

He laughed, his hands absentmindedly stroking your back. There was a warmth in his gaze, filled with affection as you continued to stare at him. "Good morning, Mrs. Reid."

You couldn't help but smile at the endearment as you placed your head on his chest, finding solace in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. With a contented sigh, you let his warmth envelop you, singking further into the arms of your husband.

a/n: If you have a specific clip you want me to be inspired by, come and drop me a message. But please be specific so I would know which scene you're talking about.

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lifetimeoftired · 24 days

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How to Adopt a Dead Kid in Three Weeks or Less (Part 2)

Part 1 || Part 2

As promised; part 2! I would like to apologize to Dick for the trauma I put him through, but honestly it was really fun for me. Also I love the idea of Danny actually trying to leave, but he keeps getting pulled back into family shenanigans because they decided 'mine now'.

Tag list: @tkiesai @sir-ghost-the-green @dreamingaboutsakuratrees @atinygracie @wolfeyedwitch Enjoy<3

Duke squints at the mop of black hair, just peeking out of the blanket. When did Tim get in last night? And really? A couch? He usually at least makes it to the batcave and sometimes even his actual room if he’s going to pass out. And what happened to his sneakers? They look weirdly worn and they’re tucked up under the couch instead of being put away properly. Alfred’s going to be really annoyed when he comes down and finds Tim like this. Duke considers walking away and leaving Dick and Tim to whatever the heck is going on here- it would serve Tim right for being so terrifying about his unhealthy sleep schedule.

Yet, just as he’s going to walk away again, he notices that Dick’s not moving. He’s crouched there, staring at the sleeping Tim with an unreadable expression on his face. It’s… Unnerving.

“Dick? What’s wrong?”

“Tim’s not breathing.”

Is… Dick okay? The bags under his eyes aren’t as bad at Tim’s but he looks like he hasn’t slept. Duke can only stare blankly at him. Then at the has-to-be-sleeping Tim. Of course he’s just sleeping- it’s Tim! He consumes his weight in poison on a daily basis; there's no way he’s just gone. But the longer he looks at the should be sleeping form, the more Duke realizes the same thing Dick did. There’s no rise in the blanket. No accompanying fall to indicate that the body is breathing and alive.

Panic wells up where his heart should be- having dug its way somewhere down near his stomach and was now useless beyond a frantic beating. Oh god oh god oh god- Bruce and Jason flash through his mind. Stephanie- Shit.

“Tim- Tim wake up!” Unthinkingly, Duke grabs for him, unhearing of the noise Dick makes and- It’s only his bat training saves Duke from being flung head first into the wall.

He twists, feet skidding along the floor and recovers in time to see Tim try to spring up from the couch. Dick snatches their brother mid-jump, and gets wrenched to the side so hard they flip over the back of the couch. Dick bends, ducks and rolls, ends up the other side with Tim in his lap getting the biggest cuddle of his life so easily in a feat that Duke would find impressive later when they all calmed down.

“It’s us Timmy! Everything’s okay, you're safe.” Thankfully, Tim calms down pretty quickly and waits for his brother to get done with his bear hug.

It’s odd though. Tim doesn’t usually sleep if he’s in a bad enough way to freak out like that. Sure there’s a long list of cases that are ongoing right now, but that usually means so much caffeine Duke can feel his liver cringe in horror. Oh well, the only way to get answers is for their resident caffeine addict to talk, Duke knows he can only wait until their certified Older Brother™ gets it all out of his system.

Duke plunks down with a sigh, and grunts when he lands on something lumpy. Something that turns out to be a ratty old backpack that looked spiritually connected to those cranky old war veterans you see on sitcoms. Was it for a case? Tim’s not exactly a stereotypical rich guy (none of the Waynes were thank god), but any of them would have replaced this thing long before needing to duck tape the corners and shoulder straps like this. He looks over the couch to ask, maybe offer to help and hope Tim actually takes him up on it. But when he makes eye contact, the words die in his throat. Those are blue eyes (icy blue, wide, frozen in fear), and jet black hair (longer than Dick’s, stick up where he’d been nuzzled half to death, scruffy where he hadn’t, bangs styled forward in a way none of them had), but that’s most certainly /not/ Tim.

“Dick? That’s not Tim.”

“What?”

Dick pulls away from the boy in his arms to get a better look at the wrong boy- Duke himself. Who quickly gestures back at the freaked out, curled up kid. This time, when Dick looks, it’s a much more proper look and notices all the reasons that’s not Tim.

“You’re not Tim.” Dick said stupidly.

“I am not Tim!” The boy jazz hands awkwardly, his arms tucked close, and adds an even more awkward grin to puncture the statement. “You wouldn’t be the first person to think I’m him if that makes you feel any better.”

There’s a beat where none of them move, then Dick leans back with a long drawn-out groan. Before any questions can be asked, Dick ‘completely unnecessary acrobatics at any given time’ Greyson rocks them both back, laughing at the boy’s squeak, flips forward, and lands on his feet. Only then does he set not-Tim back on his feet with a friendly hair ruffle.

“What makes me feel better is that you’re okay. You gave us a bit of a scare there- I thought you weren’t breathing.”

“I uh, y’know. Got a deep R.E.M. sleep?”

It’s a really dumb answer. Like, really dumb. It’s clear he never expected to be asked about whatever’s up with him and he doesn’t want to give a real answer. Moreover, it’s clear the backpack really is his because those clothes he’s wearing? Every bit as ratty. The shirt he’s wearing is less ‘white and orange’ and more ‘off white, suspiciously stained, and the logo is cracked to hell and back with very little indication of what it’s supposed to be’. Same with how many tears and faded stains are in the jeans. Also clear, from the way he angles himself, keeping both of them in view, that whoever he is, Duke knows better than he should about all the signs of a street kid.

“You guys weren’t kidding about Bruce’s adoption tendencies.” Duke quickly says. Distracting Dick so he won’t press too fast too soon and scare him off. The others (Jason excluded) are every bit as nosy as said serial adopter is paranoid and it can be a lot. Better to let the new kid acclimate to the manor so he’s not crawling out the window and disappearing into the night. Something Duke thought about doing every time things got to be too much. Which was no less than five times a day.

“I’m not being adopted!” When both Duke and Dick blink in surprise, not expecting the sheer amount of vitriol from Bruce’s latest, he winces and curls back in on himself. “I’m not staying, I mean. I didn’t even mean to wind up here- it just sorta, happened? In fact, I should probably get out of here. If you could just-” He makes a grab for the backpack, and Duke lets it go easily. “Thanks.”

“Hold on hold on-” Dick holds up his hands placatingly. “You haven’t even had breakfast yet! Alfred’s gonna be sad if you don’t join everyone.”

Dick gets a stare that says the kid thinks he’s insane- and Duke kinda can’t blame him. He also thought the Wayne’s were crazy. Because they were. For literally anyone else, random street kids they found pretty much dead on their couch weren’t usually invited to breakfast… At least their particular kind of crazy was nice.

“I know that that sounds, but Alfred really does love it when people appreciate his cooking. I’m Duke by the way.” Duke stands back up, holding out his hand with a smile. Seeing as not-Tim automatically shakes, he guesses the guy did have parents for the better part of his life. “Sorry for not introducing myself sooner.”

“... Danny.”

Oh yes, a name really does make everything easier. Duke shakes Danny’s hand, and he even gives him a little smile.

“And everybody calls me Dick!”

“Well, people can be cruel.”

Duke’s laugh desperately wants out both at Dick’s little puppy pout and Danny’s mortified expression, but he chokes it back very elegantly.

“You know, I’ve heard a lot of versions of that joke but somehow it always surprises me.” Dick says with a laugh, and another hair ruffle when Danny grumbles. “C’mon Danny. Let’s get some food in you, you can tell us how you met the old man. Then we get you some new clothes.”

“I like these just fine, thanks.”

“Sorry Danny,” Duke says apologetically. He’s been here long enough to know that stubborn glint in Dick’s eyes. He might insist he’s different than Bruce, and in many ways he is, but Dick’s mother henning is every bit as bad. “He’s going to pout and whine until you let him buy you something. Can we settle on a new backpack for now?”

It’s enough of a compromise for Danny to agree to be herded to breakfast. Bruce isn’t there, but Tim and Cass are. The real Tim is half asleep into his cereal (and grumbles about the bear hug he gets), and though Cass gives the new kid a curious look, she only stays long enough to grab an egg sandwich. Alfred is more than happy to put a big plate of the best food Duke knows he’ll ever eat in his life in front of Danny too- Much to his surprise. Did he really think Bruce would let him stay and not feed him? Hopefully he’d learn that Bruce was a pretty good guy after all and that he was safe here.

Over the course of the entire day, Duke learns a few more things about their new brother.

For starters, Danny could eat. He was surprisingly good at hiding it too. Nibbling here and there and pretending he was eating slow and listening, but the second they pretended they weren’t paying attention, he’d stuff a good portion down his throat and refill his plate. Meaning he was able to eat almost four times the amount they would have reasonably expected out of a starving street kid while making it look like he wasn’t. It could only mean one thing; Duke knew he had to be a meta. No normal person could pull off either the speed or volume.

The two other things he learned concurrently; That Danny was as accident-prone as he was kind.

Despite originally not really wanting to even go to the mall, with Dick’s good natured pestering and Duke mediating, they managed to convince Danny into not just the new backpack, but several new sets of clothes as well. In that time they saw him run into two separate doors- one of which broke his nose. His response? Crack it back into place and worry far more about the blood smear. Not even a few moments later, he was somehow roped into helping some little old lady carry her bags back to the front (they almost lost him there). Next, in the cafeteria, some unruly children knocked their tray and a good portion of it slapped Danny in the face. All he did was smile, clean himself off, and entertain the siblings with Dick’s help so their mom could take a small break and know nobody was in trouble. On the way out, Danny nearly got hit by an actual car helping some other shop-lifting street kids escape from the mall cop by pretending to trip in front of him. When the guy went tumbling into the street, Danny threw himself forward to push him out of the way of an oncoming car.

Getting back to the manor where Danny was moderately safer was a relief. It meant they could hand him off to a much more capable-of-dealing-with-this-crap Alfred and give Duke a moment alone to discuss things with Dick. The conversation went a little like;

“We need to make sure Danny is never on his own or he’s going to get himself killed. Meta or no meta. Agreed?”

“Agreed. I'll call the others.”

#dc x dp #danny fenton #duke thomas #dick greyson #batfamily #my fics #batman

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arlertwhore · 3 months

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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: you win the championship and paige shows you how proud she is.

warnings: smut, spitting, strap, thigh worship, clit play, size kink, sort of breeding kink, paige is horrendously down bad 🔥😝

word count: 2.7k

author note: so lazy with this one; i just rly liked the request idea as a former volleyball player :D!

Paige Bueckers, the star basketball player at your school UConn & also your girlfriend, and you merely had any time to see each-other due to the demanding nature of your athletic lives. You missed her dearly. The separation had led to some desperate late nights of falling asleep on facetime, sending one and other awful sappy texts throughout the day, and even FaceTime sex, a whole new low for you both. You hated living this way, but as two athletes who had thankfully and unfortunately fallen in-love, you had no other choice than to reap you had sowed. The basketball season hadn't even ended when the volleyball season began in earnest, each moment passing in a blur of practices and matches. Your schedules were back-to-back, the end of one season blending into the beginning of the next, and you didn't have a chance to see each-other until now, just as the volleyball season was coming to end, with UConn at the NCAA Women's Volleyball Championship, the game you had invited her to. Your nerves were soaring. You had played and beaten all these other teams relentlessly over the past month, but knowing it all rode on this, while your overly-competitive and patriotic husky girlfriend watched from the crowd, made the pressure even more intense. As your girlfriend always said, "You have to feel the noise." The gymnasium roared with the intensity of a thousand heartbeats, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished wood blending with the rhythmic chanting of "Let's go, Huskies!" The scoreboard flashed 24-23. One more point, and UConn would be the champions. You never recalled Paige or her friends being volleyball fans, but they were at the literal edge of their seats from your peripheral vision as you tried to stay focused on the huddle, mind racing. "Alright, girls, this is it. One point stands between us and victory. We need to be sharp, focused, and give it everything we've got. Remember the training, remember why we're here." said Coach, his voice, though calm, carrying the weight of the moment. You glanced around at your teammates, their faces a mixture of exhaustion and determination. Your own heart pounded like a drum in your chest - the pressure, the responsibility, but also the exhilaration of the challenge. As you all broke the huddle, you didn't miss the resolve in everyone’s eyes. The team took their positions, and you moved to your spot at the front left, just before Paige, on the sidelines. You glanced over at her, eyes a mix of uncertainty and anticipation, but she met your gaze with faith in her eyes as she clapped her hands together enthusiastically, encouraging, "You got this, baby." warmly and lovingly. You sighed deeply, pointing to Paige as you locked eyes with her, conveying your commitment. Despite the times you had to prioritize other things over your relationship, you were determined to make it right and fulfill your promises to her by obtaining the game-winner point. The setter, Jessie, gave you a nod, her expression steely and confident. When the whistle blew, and the opposing team served, the ball sailed over the net, a blur of motion. Sara, the libero, dove expertly, digging the ball out with a perfect pass to Jessie. The ball floated high, a beacon of hope in the air, and Jessie’s hands moved with practiced precision, setting the ball up perfectly. Time seemed to slow down as you took the approach. Three quick steps, a deep breath, and then you were airborne. The gym seemed to hold its breath with you. Your eyes locked onto the ball, and in that split second, all the hours of practice, all the sweat and hard work, crystallized into this one moment. You brought your striking arm back, muscles coiling like a spring, and then snapped forward with all the force you could ever muster.

The sound of the spike echoed through the gym, a sharp crack like a lightning strike. The ball rocketed over the net, angling hard toward the far corner of the court. The opposing blockers, despite their best efforts, were a split second too slow. Time resumed its normal pace as the ball hit the floor with a resounding thud, just inside the line. The referee’s whistle blew, signaling the point and the win. For a heartbeat, there was silence, the realization settling in. And then, the gym exploded into cheers, a wave of sound that crashed over it. Your teammates swarmed you, their joy infectious, and you jumped, shouted, and hugged until you collapsed onto the floor, eyes shut. Reclined on the court, inundated by the applause and the profoundness of the moment, a tender touch on your shoulder prompted your eyes to flutter open, tears welling up. "Hey," she murmured softly, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your forehead, and you found yourself unable to hold back your deeper sobs. Opening your eyes, Paige knelt beside you, her beautiful face everything you needed to cap off a perfect night. She had this way of picking you up, not just physically, even though she does, but emotionally too, almost as if she always knew when you needed that reassurance. Paige didn't say more. Understanding the depth of your feelings, she simply held you close. As tears streamed down your cheeks, mingling with the shouts of celebration around you, you felt an overwhelming gratitude for her unwavering presence. Looking into each other's eyes, you couldn't help but smile. Paige always tried to lighten your mood, no matter how serious the situation. She tapped your cheek in a playful slap. "Lighten up, buttercup," she teased, "You just won the fuckin' championship and you out here cryin'?" You chuckled softly, cupping her face gently. "You're a bigger crybaby, Goldilocks." You know that moment, where everything else fades away and it's just the two of you? Yeah. Disregarding your family-friendly contracts, you leaned in and kissed your girlfriend the way you'd been longing to for ages. Despite the potential fallout from managers and anyone else, it felt incredible to feel her lips moving against yours in that way that always left you breathless. Her big, comforting hands enveloping you, rubbing the small of your back. You broke away, saying softly, "Let's go home." ----------- Though Paige was blonde and not the sharpest, it didn't take a genius to know what you meant by "Let's Go Home." You guys barely make it inside before she's turned you around against the apartment door, eagerly trying to yank your shorts off and get a taste of what she saw over the phone the previous weekend. You turn, gently pushing her head away. "No!" you insist. Like a bewildered puppy, she looks at you with confusion, panting. "I-... Is that not why you wanted to come ho-" "I have to shower, Paige, you're gross," you say firmly. She rolls her eyes, tugging at your shorts again, all the while planting soft kisses up your thick volleyball-girl thighs, really trying to entice you. "Pleaseee, baby," she begs, lips softly sucking a hickey on the front skin of your right thigh, leaving a trail of gentle kisses as her mouth inches closer to your pussy, her hands caressing your ass eagerly.

"I don't care. You know I don't," she tries to reason, her voice muffled against your clothed cunt, desperate to taste you. But you stand firm, looking down at her kneeling before you.

You push her forehead back with your fingers, before gripping her chin gently in a smooth motion. "You're such a desperate little slut..." you cooed, voice ruling.

Paige, the usual tough guy is photographable when she sticks out her tongue obediently, entranced, and you grant her request, spitting directly into her mouth and gently closing her jaw to ensure she swallows it before trailing off.

She closes her eyes, wanting to say strong. It truly does take all of her restraint not to tackle you and kiss you senseless because damn, it was so hot when you dominated her like that. She's so weak in the knees after the moment that she stays there until you finish your shower.

Before meeting you, she was used to being in control, but you always stripped her of her resolve. It left her a trembling soaking wet mess as she trudged toward the bedroom, where she found you naked on the bed, your hair wet and your body glistening, even wetter. She loomed in the doorframe, unable to tear her gaze away, captivated by the sight of you.

"Oh fuck, baby," she bellowed, "Shit, I- You're so fucking gorgeous, I-"

"Shut up, Paige," you interrupted, then spread your legs invitingly, your sparkling wet pussy on display for her eyes that lit up like a supernova. "You know, words are cheap. Show me. I want to feel it," you whispered, the sound of your voice like a siren, drawing her closer, your head tilted with a determined gaze.

She sauntered up to the bed. It was as if you blinked, and suddenly Paige was partially naked, still clad in her boxers. Her lips came to yours first, tongues intertwining hungrily, and you eagerly share your saliva, having left her mouth dry with your words.

As she drips what you gave her down onto your cunt, the trickle of saliva tickles you, sending shivers through your body and making your toes curl with anticipation.

"You look so hot when you're fucking me, babe," you tease her, and she lets out an impatient groan, lifting your body and placing your legs over her shoulders.

Her long fingers teasing up and down your slit elicit a velvety low whine from you, a sound that's more a reflex than a conscious choice, knowing it drives her crazy.

"Hold them," she murmurs, her breath warm against the back of your ankle. Lost in bliss for a moment, you don't comply, relishing in the way her fingers touch your clit like its her own body.

The stroke of her fingers always begins with a feather-light touch, barely grazing the surface like she's tracing delicate paths mapping constellations in the night sky.

Then, the tempo builds gradually, each stroke gaining confidence and purpose, lingering momentarily in certain spots where her touch elicits a buck or arch of your back. She stops abruptly, smacking the side of your ass-cheek lightly.

"I said, hold 'em, baby," she insists sternly, and you realize she's motioning to your ankles.

Paige wants you to hold them. She's usually a gentleman and does it herself, but you suppose you've riled her up too much today. Paige steps away from the bed and retrieves a box hidden underneath it.

Expecting something wild like restraints, you watch as it lands on the bed, revealing it's actually a package from a toy website. When she pulls it out of its wrapping, your eyes widen, and you try to shift to get a better look, but she stops you and says firmly, "Up. I didn't say you could drop 'em." Is she crazy? You think to yourself.

"You're out of your mind, Paige! What are you doing with that?" You're more the old-fashioned girl.

More 'hands-on'. And you've also NEVER had anything of this size in you, so you're rightfully scared, but Paige's hand presses you back down by your stomach and she insists, "You'll like it." As she fits it onto herself, she adds, "We both will. I got it for tonight since I knew you'd win, champ." That flatters you enough into relaxing briefly, but when you feel Paige atop you again, fear makes you instinctively want to shut your legs.

She sighs, "Stop playing with me," she chides gently, and you whimper, "I'm scared."

She smiles softly. Paige leans down and kisses you tenderly, then guides your hands to your ankles again as she reassures, "It'll hurt for a second. But after, I'll make you feel so good you won't even think about it." You nod, trusting her.

“Plus... with how wet you are, I should just-" the hum of a buzz fills the air as she presses the girthy length against your cunt, her bottom lip curling inward as she ruts forward. "Yeah, fuck.. I should slip right in there, right, ma?" she's asking for your permission now, but the way her abs clench, her hair tousles, and her face contorts... you don't hesitate or think about yourself.

"Put it in, Paige, please," you urge. With that, she starts, the thick tip barely penetrating your first layer before you're clawing at your own ankles, gasping for breath as Paige watches with focused intensity, her cheeks hollowed. The entrancement in her blue eyes as she watches you take her in is intoxicating, and you moan in response. "Aww, yeah baby... I know it's big, I know," she murmurs.

"I just want to bury my cock in you, okay baby?" she opines delicately. "Okay.. Mkayy, just- oh!" the snap of her hips sends your body rocking backward, head against the headboard, a pillow thankfully cushioning the impact. "You okay? I'm not breakin' ya?" she inquires gently, but even if she is, you refuse to give her the satisfaction of knowing so. However, it's evident—the burn of the stretch makes tears prickle your eyes, and she can see them.

Yet, she wants you to lie so she has a reason to continue fucking you senseless. "M' fine," you fib, and Paige throws her head back, thrusting again with a grunt, this time fully entering you with a groan of satisfaction following. She thinks aloud. "So tight, baby... nobody else fucks you like this, I love it." You look down and realize a small vibrating device is pressed against her clit, and you feel a thrill knowing she can feel its sensations, basically meaning she can feel you. "Is my pussy good?" you ask teasingly, and she knows you're only trying to rile her up, to get her to obliterate you, so, she resorts to her only solution and turns you over. She fucks you from behind, gripping your hair, and the backwards angle in which her cock fucks into you has you arching your back and throwing it back, despite the sting everytime you guys meet each other's thrusts at the same time. "Keep throwin' it like that baby, fuck," she moaned. Each time your ass met her hips, the slam echoed loud, and you gripped the sheets, clinging onto your life as she placed her hand on your ass, the other into your back, holding you down as she had her way with you. "You look so sexy when you take me, babe," she coos softly, and you gasp.

"I'm gonna cum, P," on the verge of completely letting go. "I-.. me too, baby. This pussy makes me want to cum so hard," Gazing at her over your shoulder and sending her into overdrive, you utter, "Do it, P." through lidded eyes. "Cum in me, mommy, I want your-" She speeds up, the nearly inhuman quickness sending precum oozing out of you as you whined desperately. "You want my what, baby, my what? Tell me, ma, lemme hear it. Wanna give it to your pretty pussy." "I want your babies, Paige, please." Her thrusts became erratic, each one driving deeper and faster. Your body tensed, teetering on the edge. “Yes, Paige, please,” you begged, feeling the pressure build to an unbearable peak. With a final powerful thrust, you both shattered. Your vision blurred as waves of pleasure surged through you, your muscles contracting uncontrollably. Paige let out a guttural moan, her grip on your ass and back tightening as she came hard, the intensity of it all leaving the both of you trembling and breathless, clinging to each-other in the aftermath. Paige was so right. You did like it. If this was just for one win, a big one, then imagine the next win, the bigger one. MASTERLIST

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muffinpink02 · 3 months

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Sweaty Sessions

We all saw the gym pic Alexia put in her insta post, so of course I had to do a story of her in the gym.

@copper-16 I hope you enjoy the hip thrusts! 🤤 @codiemarin thank you for jumping in and giving me a detailed picture to write 🥵 💦 and @lucyandalexiafan thank you for always helping me with everything I write! ❤️ Sorry if it feels a little rushed.

Warning - smut 18 plus, strap, restraints, fingering,

Barcelona’s sun was extra hot today, you could feel the sweat dripping down your back as you rounded the corner to your house. You let out a puff of air as you dropped your keys in the bowl next to the front door. You caught a quick glimpse of yourself in the mirror after your run, your face was sweaty, your cheeks were red and your baby hair was starting to curl. The built-in AC was a welcome on your damp skin.

“Ale, I’m home.” You called out, but got no response.

You walked into the back of the house, knowing your girlfriend would be in her favourite room.

You took your headphones out as you approached the door to your shared home gym. You could hear the familiar sounds of her heavy panting before you had even turnt the corner. You couldn't ignore the way it made your pussy flutter.

You spotted your girlfriend in the middle of her daily work out. You had seen the sight before, more times then you could count, but that didn't mean it ever got old, the view of Alexia working out never got old. In all honesty the mouth watering sight alone could get you wet if you watched her long enough, especially when the only items she wore were a sports bra and red gym shorts.

You slowly sneaked into the kitted out gym room, the heat in the room hit you straight away, it felt like a sauna. It was the only room where the AC wasn’t working, the repair guy was coming next week to fix it.

The blonde was in the middle of her hip thrusts, she hadn't noticed you come in, she had her headphones on, and her eyes closed as she concentrated on the heavy weight bearing on her hips, her deep breathing went in time with her motion. Your eyes greedily roamed her sweaty body, as her abs flexed with her movements.

You shook your head at the girl, only Alexia would work in a hot box for a room, the girl never missed her workouts for anything.

The music in her ears suddenly stopped. Her hazel eyes opened in confusion, a cute frown knitted between her eyebrows until she saw you. She gave you a quick smile, clearly still in the zone of her workout.

You eyed the plates on the metal bar, the weight combined was heavier than you, a stark reminder of the kind of power the girl possessed. Though you were reminded most nights when she had her way with you. Just the other night the blonde had you pinned to the wall, her strong arms held you up as she fucked you so effortlessly with her strap.

You smiled back at her, your mind was already filled with filthy thoughts, but you couldn't help it, not when she moved her hips the way she did. Her hips thrusted hard, as she pushed the heavy bar in the air, you felt your pussy squeeze as you watched her muscles flex again and again, her sweaty skin looked incredibly edible.

You flinched as she dropped the weight, the heavy clanking of the metal brought you back from your dirty day dream.

“Hola, baby. How was your run?” She breathed.

“It was good, thank you. How's your training going? Are you finished?” You asked with hope in your voice but you already knew the answer.

“No, I’m half way.” She chuckled.

You pouted as you stood over her. You rolled the bar down her legs, she eyed you as she took a drink from her bottle, the blonde could already read your mind. You lowered yourself on top of her hips, in a squat-like position.

“I bet you can’t do a hit with me on top.”

She wiped her wet lips as she smiled at your attempt to goad her.

“At least try and give me a challenge when trying to distract me, amor. Come, let me finish. I’ll be done soon.”

She patted your leg to move, You pouted again, giving her your best puppy eyes, she playfully rolled her own, smiling at your sulky face.

“Three thrust, then I train, okay?”

“Okay.”

Her warm hands grabbed your bare sides as she easily raised you off the floor with her movements, you felt your cunt flutter as her hard abs pressed into your core, just slightly giving you a little bit of friction, But she didn't stick to her own words as she thrusted again, and again, her hands squeezed your skin, holding you in place.

You could tell she was counting, she had clearly made a bet in her own head to get to a certain number, the competitiveness never stopped with this girl, even if it was with herself. You couldn’t hold back the giggles as she smiled at you. You held on to her shoulders as she pushed into you, easily lifting you up and down, her fingers flexed around your skin, making your stomach flutter.

A small gasp escaped your lips at a particularly hard thrust from the girl below. You bit your lip as your clit pressed just perfectly against her firm body, your hips naturally moved against her, wanting more friction.

She felt you move, she heard the gasp, a knowing smirk crept on her perfect face. You could feel yourself getting wet, the movement was sexual, there was no two ways about it. You had been in this very position only this morning, when Alexia decided she wanted you to ride her fingers.

But once again your filthy thoughts were interrupted.

“20. Done. Now let me train.”

“Make it 30.”

She chuckled. “No amor, let me finish, then you can have me.”

You tried to do your best pout again even adding a small roll of your hips, hoping the move would persuade her.

Her eyelashes fluttered as she felt you, the fingers on your sides tightly squeezing again. You took that opportunity to lean into her hot body, your lips traced her sweaty neck, you could taste the salt from her sweat on your lips. You dragged your tongue just below her ear, smiling when she made a small gasp of her own. You captured her ear gently between your teeth, giving her another sinful roll of your hips.

“Please baby. I want you.” You purred.

Her hips jolted up, you couldn't help but feel slightly proud of yourself as her normally strong resolve started to break. But just as you thought you had won you were being lifted into the air. Your face was met with Alexias back as she easily flung you over her shoulder, like some kind of cave woman.

“Ale!”

Moments later you were set back on your feet, standing next to the pull up station. The next couple of seconds were a blur. Her movements were quick, one minute you were dry humping your girlfriend, the next your arms were being pulled behind your back and were being tied up by the rubber bands that were attached to the bars above.

You felt the rubber around your wrist, you tried to pull at it but it was no use. You shouldn't have been too surprised that the girl was able to tie you up so effortlessly, she loved having you tied up in your sexual activities, she could make restraints out of almost anything, but you had never thought your resistance bands would be used on you.

She smirked as she pulled the bands, making sure you couldn't escape. A harsh tug brought you closer to her face. Her lips ghosted your own.

“As you can’t be good and keep your hands to yourself, you can wait.” She smirked as she pressed her lips onto yours.

Your mouth gaped open in disbelief, she gave your arse cheek a hard slap before she walked back to the equipment.

“No, Ale please! I’ll be good.” You cried out.

But it was no use, her face was already back in focus mode. You groaned as you watched Alexia completely ignore your presence and settle back into her hip thrust position, your complaints falling on deaf ears.

So you stood there. Staring at your girlfriend as she thrusted the heavy bar in the air. You tugged at the band once again, trying to free yourself but it was hopeless. You would just have to wait and watch, but at least the view was a good one.

Alexia was in the zone, she concentrated on her work out, finally finishing her remaining reps. As she stood you noticed her arms looked extra hard, you weren't sure if she was tensing or the girl had just gained more mass. But you were going to be a brat about it.

“Are you really going to leave me like this? Make me watch your work out? As if I'm impressed?”

She laughed out loud, wiping her sweaty forehead, but she didn’t respond. She picked up some more plates from the rack. She held the weight near her core, and pushed it on the bar in the most sexual manner, her eyes watching you as she did.

You rolled your eyes and looked away, but only for a second, you weren't about to let your pride get in the way of watching your girlfriend be a cocky dick, it was frankly the hottest thing on earth, but you weren't going to tell her that and let her ego grow even more.

Once she was finished with her peacocking, she moved to lay on the bench, lifting the bar with an eye watering amount of weights attached, but of course she only made it look easy.

You felt no better than a man as you watched the blonde working out, I mean, she was your girlfriend, you were allowed to watch, you were being made to watch, but you wanted to touch her, especially when she started to make those stupidly sexy grunting noises.

The grunts she let out was the same grunts you heard in your ear many a night, the same delicious groans that dripped from her mouth when she held you down and fucked you until she came on the base of her strap, grunting while she was deep inside you.

You caught your lip between your teeth, the heat between your legs was rising, your mind was clouded with images of Alexia, thinking about all the ways she would fuck you, use you, make you scream untill your voice was hoarse. The sound of a loud groan made your eyes flutter and your knees weak.

Alexia finished her reps with the chest press and moved over to the weights on the stand, not once did she look at you. She took out a 20kg kettlebell and began her kettlebell swings. It was no secret that the girl was fit, she did two workouts a day, everyday, plus training, plus running and everything else in between, but she still impressed you every time you watched her, the girl was a beast.

The blonde had almost forgotten you were there. She was mid lift when she caught you watching her in the floor length mirror. A coy smirk creeped on her lips at the angry yet horny look that sat on your face. She loved the fact that you were watching her, even if you had no choice in the matter. Though she knew you were enjoying the view, she just wanted to have a little fun with it.

She panted hard as she got to the last set, her cheeks hollowed out and her sweaty chest rose in time of her breathing, her goddess-like body was something of dreams.

You could really feel the heat between your legs now, a dull ache throbbing your core, you had never been so turned on and frustrated at the same time. Your thighs began to clench as you watched your very fit but very annoying girlfriend work out in front of you. you couldn't ignore the ache in your cunt anymore

“You’re loving this aren't you?” You raised your eyebrow at the blonde.

She chuckled as she returned the weight on the rack. She took another sip from her bottle before facing you.

“Sí. I am. You should have been patient, baby.”

You rolled your eyes. The girl could be such a fucking tease.

She walked towards you with a cocky smirk on her face.

“Ah don't be like that, amor. I know you enjoyed the view.”

“Would be better if I was allowed…”

Your sentence died in your throat. The blonde turned her back to you, you thought she was done with the conversation but you watched as she slowly started to stretch. Right in front of you. She bent straight over, touching her toes with ease. Her arse strained against the tiny shorts, giving you a perfect view of one of your favourite body parts. She was clearly trying to kill you.

“Alexiaaaa. Please. This isn't fair.” You cried out.

She laughed loudly as she straightened herself up. Your eyes roamed her wet, muscular body, she was covered in a sheen of sweat, even her top lip was wet.

You didn't know why but it was something that turned you on to no end. Seeing Alexia like this, all worked up, hot and sweaty made you clit throb. Maybe because it was a similar sight to when she fucked you.

“You can wait a little more.” She pulled the rubber band once more, making you jolt.

Before you could reply she was walking out of the gym.

“Ale! Where are you going? You can't just leave me!”

She ignored your calls once again. You huffed in annoyance, pulling at the arm band one more, but the tight rubber only pulled on your skin. The room was unbearably hot, your patience was wearing thin, especially as it was at least 5 minutes before she came back.

“Ale, what the fuck you c-can’t …” Your words stuttered on the tip of your tongue.

Alexia stood at the gym door wearing nothing but her favourite strap. The big strap.

“What was that sweetheart?”

You gaped at her, your mouth was suddenly dry. The sheer cockyness that dripped from the gril was spinning your head. The look she gave you was predatory, she stalked slowly over to you, you suddenly felt like a lamb who was about to be devoured by the lion

“Hmm? You seemed so impatient. I think you need something…. Big. Don’t you think?”

“N-no. I jus- ahhh.”

Your head was suddenly yanked back, Alexia had a vise-like grip of your hair, making you cry out.

“Get on your knees.”

You knelt to your knees, while Alexia kept her grip on you.

“Open your mouth.”

And like the good girl you were, you opened your mouth. She slid her dick in gently, but it didn’t stop you from gagging as it got halfway. You didn’t normally use this strap for oral, it was too big, but clearly Alexia wanted to prove a point with your lack of patience.

“Go slow.”

You did go slow, but the tears sprung to your eyes just as quickly. She slowly pressed her hips to your face, the pressure on your throat was a lot, but it only built the pressure between your legs.

“Keep going, you can take it.”

Your eyes closed as the tears ran down your cheeks. Her hand in your hair guiding you until your nose pressed against her firm stomach.

“That's it, your mouth is better when it's used for this, no?” She smiled down at you.

You opened your eyes, looking at the goddess above you. She wiped your tears with her free hand, it was a soft getsure considering her bravado was out in full swing. She cupped your chin as she pulled back, then slowly back in. The pace was slow but the spit in your mouth gathered fast, as the thick strap filled your throat.

You stayed on your knees for a couple more minutes as Alexia fucked your throat with the biggest strap you owned. You kept your throat as relaxed as you could, as she watched you take her, her own cunt throbbing.

“Get up.” Alexia snapped. She gently pulled the strap out of your mouth.

You didn't have a chance to move before she easily picked you up to your feet. Her sheer strength showing itself again.

She roughly turned you around, pulling your back against her chest. You let out a gasp as her teeth sunk into your shoulder.

“You’ve become very impatient, baby. Have you lost all your manners?”

Her mouth started to suck where she bit you, her strap pressing into you as you let out a groan. She had a tight hold of your wrist behind your back, you couldn’t move with the grip she had on you.

Another yelp escaped your mouth as her hand pulled at your hair.

“Hmm?”

“No. I-I just want you.”

You felt her full lips smile against your skin as she gave you a gentle kiss.

“But you were acting like a brat, I do not reward brats.”

“I’m sorryyyy.”

Another bite, another mark.

“Let’s see what a spoilt little brat looks like while she gets fucked.”

Before you could ask what she meant you were being pushed as close as she could get you to the floor length mirror. You were now only an arm length away from your reflection. You suddenly realised what she meant as you watched a sadistic smile creep on her face behind you.

Her hands started pulling at your own shorts, roughly yanking them down to your ankles, bringing your underwear with it. Leaving your top half only in your sports bra.

“Where’s all that talk now, baby?”

You jumped when you felt her fingers slide against your wet lips.

She scoffed when she felt how wet you were. “You clearly enjoyed watching me. So messy, amor.” She purred in your ear. “You enjoy watching me don’t you?”

You nodded, your eyes closed as you saw yourself in the mirror, not able to escape the way you melted into her hot body.

“Open your eyes.”

You did what she said, you weren't about to be a brat with that tone. You saw yourself half naked in the mirror. Alexia was holding your wrist behind your back, as if you would try to escape. Her hazel eyes were on yours, watching you like you were the most beautiful creature in the world.

Two long fingers slid between your lips and circled your throbbing clit. You let out a quiet gasp, your eyes closed as she touched you with light but perfect touches. But your hair was being pulled once more.

“Close your eyes again and I’ll stop.” She whispered harshly in your ear.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered as her fingers gathered your wetness.

“You will be.” Her teeth sunk into your neck as those long fingers easily entered your cunt.

You let out a loud gasp, Alexia had thick fingers, the strength of them alone was sometimes harder to take than a strap.

“So tight.” She hissed, her breath tickling your hot neck.

But before you could enjoy her fingers for much longer she removed them, her hand was on your neck, pushing you forward and her fingers sunk into your core from the back. Your face was inches from the mirror, your reflection clear as day.

“Fuck.”

The new angle was tighter, but felt so much better. Her fingers in your cunt pushed in and out slowly, knowing exactly how to pull the cute noises she loved so much. Her talented fingers stroked your walls with perfect precision, you could feel yourself becoming wetter, you could even hear yourself getting wetter against her movements.

But as soon as she got into a rhythm her fingers were gone, again. You were about to complain and ask why she had stopped, but you were silenced when you felt the head of her strap pushing against your lips.

“Ale, please.”

“Do you think you have any say right now?” She chuckled deeply behind you.

That same tone came out to play, it was the tone that you should know better than to open your mouth with. Your skin was hot, but the shivers that creeped on your skin would argue that fact, her stern voice had visibly affected you, and Alexia didn't miss it. Her free hand pushed on your shoulder, bending you right over, until your back was flat. Her fingers traced down your back, catching the dampness of your skin.

“Keep it straight.”

That same tone came out to play, it was the tone that you should know better than to open your mouth with. If it wasn’t for the position you were in you might have been bold and shot back a sarcastic jab of your own. And maybe it was the frustration of having been tied up for over 20 minutes or the thick heat from the room that made your brain short circuit and fry, because you in fact did reply with a sarcastic jab.

“I've had to wait this long, now I have to bend over? I hope it's worth it.” You whispered, loud enough for her to hear.

You saw Alexia's face harden in the mirror, the grip she had on your wrist tightened as the head of her strap began to push into your core. You gritted your teeth as the plastic began to stretch you out, a loud groan escaped your throat, feeling the strap sliding inside of you. Even though she had her fingers in you just moments before the tight stretch was still there.

You felt every inch of the strap, no matter how slow she went, the pressure of it made you hold your breath. She was slow as she pressed in, but even with gentle movements the girth took your breath away with the sheer size of it. You felt full.

Finally, you felt the sticky skin of her thighs pressing against yours, as she bottomed out in you, but before you could allow your body to get used to the fullness of her strap, she began to ease out of you. Normally the Spaniad would allow you to get used to the feeling of her inside, she would let you take her inch by inch and get used to the thickness. But you had quite frankly pissed her off with your little comment. You whimpered as her hips began dragging the strap against your tight walls, pulling herself completely out. The tip of her dick now kissed at your lips.

It was when her hand gripped tightly on your shoulder you knew your cocky attitude was about to be fucked right out of you.

You were expecting it but you also wasn't. With one quick thrust of her hips she was back inside you. The next sound that escaped your mouth was indescribable, it was loud, it was dirty, it was completely pornagraphic, and it was music to Alexia's ears. Her pace was fast as soon as she started. Your mouth gaped open as she rocked her hips into you, causing your whole body to move from each strong thrust. Your legs were holding you up but it was the grip that she had on your shoulder that stopped you from falling over.

Each quick thrust pushed a loud whimper from you, her pace was vicious. Your head fell forward, not able to keep it up from her brutal pace.

“Uh ah. Head up, I want you to see how brats get fucked.”

Alexia’s hand gripped onto the ends of your hair, jerking your head up, causing you to let out a long pathetic whine. You felt your core tighten as you were met with the most animalistic scene in front of you. It was a mass of sweaty bodies, Alexia's toned figure rutted hard against you, the filthy sounds of skin slapping against the other bounced off the walls as her thighs slapped against yours.

Your sweaty wrist rubbed against the rubber bound behind your back while she had you bent over, very much enjoying the view of her strap sliding in and out of your cunt. The smile on Alexia's face was dirty, it made your core tighten around her strap, you were at Alexia’s complete mercy and fuck, did it feel good.

The hot air in the room suddenly felt thicker as the oxygen from your lungs were forced out of you. The strength in her thrusts were almost painful, but Alexia knew you could take it, she knew your body and mind, she knew you would stop her if you had to, but there was no thought in your mind of uttering anything of the sort.

The moisture from your breath started to steam up the reflective glass in front of you, as you let out small whimpers. You knew it was self indulgent but you didn’t hate catching glances of yourself being fucked, the sight before you was sinful, especially when you had someone like Alexia to watch.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” You cried out.

You could feel your orgasm building, your legs and stomach muscles started to ache from the obscene position you were in, you weren't sure how long you would last like this, but you had a feeling Alexia wouldn’t care. You knew you would have pissed her off with your comment, and that’s exactly what you wanted, a pissed off Alexia.

Alexia’s mouth hung open as she felt her clit rubbing perfectly against the base of her strap, she started to pick up her pace chasing her own orgasm. The change of pace sent a wave of pleasure through your body, your cunt throbbed from the relentless thrusts of the girl behind you.

“Yes, yes, don’t stop.” You breathed out.

Alexia bit her lip as she felt her pleasure building, the sounds of your moaning made her head dizzy with power. She picked up to a piston whip speed. Your mouth fell open as your body was forced to take Alexia’s new pace, you weren't even able to make any sounds from the sheer force of her hips. You felt your climax prickerling your body, the hot sweat that sat on your skin suddenly felt cold as the starts of your orgasm creeped through.

The grip on your shoulder tightened, Alexia let out a deep throaty moan, you knew she was close, you watched as the muscles in her arms flexed, straining against her sweat covered skin. Your eyes followed her naked body, her muscles flexing as she drove into you, the wet slaps of sweaty skin colliding.

Your legs started to give in as your orgasm began to wash over you, your muscles were already jelly from your run, you felt your knees buckle as your pleasure took over.

“Ale!” You cried out.

She felt your body giving up. She pulled you straight up, your back hitting her chest. You let out a high moan as her lips crashed into your sweat covered neck, kissing and sucking on your skin.

“I've got you.”

Her hips kept up the bruising pace, she was still chasing her own orgasm, it almost became too much, the pleasure was about to become painful until she groaned in your ear. That very familiar groan that made your head dizzy. Her hands wrapped around your neck, bringing your lips together, it was messy and hungry, your wet lips smacking against the other as her hips started to rut into you.

“Fuck.” She gasped.

Her normally stern face became a blissed out state as her orgasm hit her. Your eyes rolled into your head as small but heavy grunts escaped her mouth, making your clit throb. Her lips pressed into your neck as she slowly grinded into you, her hot body pressed up against yours taking what she needed.

The hot room was just small sounds of your panting. She gently pulled out of you, her lips kissed your shoulder sweetly, causing you to shiver.

“You okay?”

You smiled at her soft voice, a complete 360 of your session before.

“I’m so good. But I need a shower. A cold one.” You chuckled.

“Sí. Shower together?” She nuzzled into your neck. She was always so needy after an orgasm, it was the cutest thing to see.

“Together.” You pressed your lips to hers.

She began to to remove the harness from her hips.

"Don't forget me." You turned so she could until you.

"Hmm, I think I prefer you this way. Can we keep you like this until I'm done with you." She bit she shell of your ear, making you groan.

"Are you not done with me?" You moaned with pleasure as her nails scratched up your body.

"Not yet, I think we should test your endurance a little more."

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