#grown ass man didn’t even tip either

[enevera]

i love when customers act like i should remember them. like babe i don’t care if you came in yesterday i will only remember you if you either come in often or annoy me don’t roll your fucking eyes at me bc i didn’t remember you coming in the day before goddamn

[princessbrunette]

˚˖𓍢ִ🐰໋✧˚.🎀୨୧ ⋅˚₊

let’s go back to my roots. let’s talk about girly, prissy, spoiled bunny!reader with rafe.

you’re untouchable, kook royalty just for your attachment to the cameron’s but you don’t even care about all of that. all you care about, is rafes time money and attention.

he loves you a lot, but more so — he puts up with your shit. whilst you don’t have much of an attitude, soft in all corners of your life, you can still manage to be a nightmare. you clutter his sink with your makeup and skincare, decidedly a maximalist when it came to your self care and beautification rituals. he plucks a clump of mink eyelashes from the side of the sink, something he nearly mistook for a spider and sets it aside— only calling out a “jesus chr — bun, told you to clear out your shit. my bathroom looks like fuckin’ sephora. in here, now.” before he hears the soft padding of your feet come tottering along, happy to do as your told.

if that’s not making him huff and puff — it’ll surely be the outfits, moreso scraps of fabric you parade around in. expensive, according to his black card, for items of clothing that cover so little — and he can’t say you don’t get your moneys worth, toddling around in strappy powder pink dresses that leave nothing to the imagination or white mini skirts that cling to the fold of the bottom of your ass cheeks, giving not only the chumps at the country club a good look — but his closest friends too. his life had become a sequence of tugging down your hem, manhandling you to be decent. “you—y-you think i need my fuckin’ friends getting an eyeful of your pussy each time you move? are we gonna have to have another talk about what’s appropriate, bunny girl? huh? or maybe the belt will help you learn a valuable lesson. fuck.” he sulks, stomping around after his threat. you’re clung to his bicep with a dazed smile only five minutes later because his mean treatment usually flew through one bedazzled ear and came out the other. soft and dopey as ever.

back to him ‘putting up with you’, there’s a ton of reasons why that is. like aforementioned, he does love you a lot. you’re his little prized possession, his trophy. you were soft in all the ways that mattered and understanding, always listening when no one else would, even if he was admittedly in the wrong. that, and you really did fuck like a bunny rabbit.

you had a libido that was constantly set to high, all hours of the day. you were a chronic pillow humper when rafe wasn’t available to sate you, the man often times walking in to find you teary eyed with a white lacy thong binding your spread knees, pulled down just enough to grind your messy, glossy pussy against the fluffed white pillow from his side of the bed. because really, you were a chronic rafe humper— but you were well behaved enough to know that sometimes he had to handle business and didn’t have the time to feed your greedy cunt.

you’d grown accustom to taking him in any position too, whether it was in doggy style — waving your plush ass in the air, pointing that fluffy pink bunny-tail butt plug straight at him as you mewl into expensive pillows, or you’re crouched on his lap on the couch, feet planted either side of him, a high pitched whimper punched out of you each time you slam your hips back down on his cock, mushroom tip thumping your cervix. you said you liked the pain, liked when it bruised, liked when you could still feel him the next day when you missed him. reminded you of how grateful you are to have a boyfriend who dicks you good.

you had a little obsession that was serving as a problem though— having to give you plenty of ‘sit down talks’ when he talks to you real slow like you’re stupid because you keep begging him to breed you. it seemed no amount of “sweetheart, i’on know how many times i have to say this to get it through that head, but you are too young for a baby. i—i gotta get my shit together first, alright? promised you as many babies as you want after i secure tannyhill did i not? i…i really need your patience… okay?” would stop you from bouncing on his cock with a feverish and determined look in your eye, or locking your legs around his waist when he’s about to nut— babbling tearfully as you beg “please daddy, please gimme a baby. please want — want your babies!”

you’re lucky he was so much stronger than you, often wrestling you down to straddle your face and aim his cock at your mouth before he blew his load, gritting out a spiteful “well you’re gonna have to fuckin’ swallow them ‘til the time comes. fuck.” through gritted teeth as you mewl miserably (but lap it up nonetheless)

you gave him trouble, but nothing he couldn’t handle. he wouldn’t trade his spoiled bunny girl for the world.

˚˖𓍢ִ🐰໋✧˚.🎀୨୧ ⋅˚₊

[hxltic]

Im not sure how to request cause this is like my first time doing it but would u write anything w iwazumis timeskip? like how hes an athletic trainer.. YK DO UR MAGIC idek how to request also x reader if thats ok. THANK U

Hey ofc!! You can be as vulgar and straightforward as you want, this is a safe space😘 (idk if you wanted nsfw or not so if not I’m sorry! I just made it suggestive because I was unsure :P)

The ass crack of dawn peeks through your window, enough to have your body twisting and turning until you’re inevitably forced awake.

Of course you drag yourself to the bathroom and check yourself out a bit, admiring how your new waist training is going and your puffy lips of the morning before brushing your teeth to start the day. Some argue you’re a morning person, but you aren’t. And you feel no kind of guilt admitting that.

You only get up because you have to—to remain consistent, especially with allowing yourself to grow not only physically, but emotionally, finally feeling free from the weights of stress by exercising and feeling good about your figure.

Also, the routine is great for you. It makes you feel productive in the morning, so now when you reflect before, there was this emptiness that came with sitting at home with the same three things you have to do on repeat.

And then of course, the motivation of going to the gym for a man you’ve been seeing around recently. He recognizes you now, probably casually assuming the relationship is nothing more than a mutual gym buddy.

And it’s likewise; you wouldn’t call it a crush. The both of you are grown, just two adults with the same hobby even though you are relatively newer to the activity.

So you pack up your bag and tip your head back for a swig of the protein smoothie you prepared and head out the door.

The gym doesn’t smell anything like how you imagined it would when you first cluelessly walked in. It actually smells clean (mainly from the overwhelming scent of chlorine in the pool water), and it wasn’t super busy around this time. If there were people, they definitely weren’t teenagers coming for their afternoon rounds. The receptionist waves back at you as you pass.

Today was legs. You recognize how far you’ve come, because initially, no day was your favorite, each as long and tortuous as the last. But this has got to be what it means to become accustomed to the pain. Does that make all gym-goers masochists?

If so, Iwaizumi has got to be the worst, because the only other person insane enough— that even remotely looks like he does anything other than train— to be here before you, is him.

“Morning,” you chime. His headphones are off, so the switch that usually tells you when people don’t wish to be spoken to doesn’t go off.

To your delight, he responds with just as much pleasure without turning around, currently sitting on the Lax machine and tugging the resistant handles. “Good morning,” he grunts.

He eventually does, even as he attempts to convince himself to stay focused on his set, but even the discipline he’s built over the years couldn’t prevent him from catching a glimpse of you. You were sitting your stuff down nearby, relocating to the floor to stretch.

He’s been watching you. Not in a creepy way, he justifies, but it becomes a habit when you’re working how he does.

Your progress is a miracle. He could count on one hand the amount of people that come in fresh and immediately get to working, just to return consistently, and cycle through this process until they reach their desired figure and continue after that. You, however, stepped in with a determination on your face he’d never seen before.

You hadn’t requested a trainer, and by what he sees, didn’t need one either. He remembers when you came in talking about how badly you wanted to rid of your little tummy, as well as slim down your plush thighs, pleading someone to teach you how. Of course he knew how; he keeps his work strictly professional with the women who came in asking for the same thing.

He’d always found the little pudge attractive, but it’s your body. It’s just somehow, he wasn’t on the verge of telling them how good it looks or the pure desire he has to press on the fat while his head is between their thighs like he was you. Someone must have heard his prayers though, because instead of slimming your legs down, you became comfortable with the idea of them getting stronger, ultimately making them slightly thicker.

The man was close to finishing the set but that one glimpse of you had him do five extra for good measure since he lost count. How could he focus?

As you split your legs and tilt to one side, you watch the man not too far. The black compression shirt he wears hugs his carved body perfectly, only cementing this fact as his back and arm muscles flex with every controlled pull of the bar. Everything about him was sharp from his shape to the hair on his head.

It was no doubt he was attractive, and since having graduated, attention wasn’t just found anywhere. Maybe some small talk will help?

“What are you doing today?” He hears you call. He almost flinches with what he thinks you’re asking until you add, “Workouts I mean.”

Iwaizumi chuckles at your mishap, more for himself, but it flushes your cheeks nonetheless. It’s a genuine, gentle sound. “Arms. Tomorrow is core,” he says coolly.

“I hate arms. I should probably do them more often, but lifting is only fun if you’re already strong.”

“I see where you’re coming from,” he pulls off the machine, rotating himself on the seat to face you. You’re in a lunge now, oversized t-shirt covering half of the skin tight shorts desperately trying to contain the glutes you’ve grown. He makes sure to force his emerald green eyes to yours. “You won’t get stronger if you don’t give it a try.”

You scoff, “You sound like my old therapist.”

The humor you two shared was nothing more than the surface level awkward kind so this unexpected comment from you had him laughing. Actually laughing. “And you sound like an old friend of mine.”

Smiling at this, you get one more good stretch in and come to your feet. You stand proudly with your hands on your hips, staring at him.

He blinks around happily, “What?”

“You said to give it a try right? Show me the way."

—•—

“I can’t do this,” you say, already struggling just with the form part of the exercise. You switched positions with him since it was closest machine. “How do I pull it if I can’t move my back?”

“Well, that’s the workout part,” he walks around the seat while inspecting you, waiting for you to figure it out with his advice. “Sit up completely straight and slightly lean back. Stay in that position the entire time, but try to pull the bar down to you instead of pulling yourself up to it.”

You try to replicate what you saw him doing. By this point, you had gotten majority of the positioning right, even keeping your back straight, but the damned bar wouldn’t move an inch. “Are you sure the setting on this thing is right?”

“Oh shit-” He pauses at this, then renders that you’re completely right. You’re trying to pull his weight.

As he shuffles over to the side of the machine to adjust it, you watch him with a smug expression and your arms crossed. I’m not just that weak, I knew it, it reads.

Moments later he comes back around, “That’s my bad, try it now.”

And you’re finally able to do it, but your form falters when you successfully pull the bar to your chest. He knows you know, you’re a smart girl, so he gives you a few more tries to correct it. “I feel like I’m about to fall,” you say finally.

“Here, that means you’re leaning too far.” He comes and presses a hand to your back, pushing you forward. “Don’t think about it too much. I’ll hold you right here for a few until you can support yourself.”

He was already hovering beside you, lurking and seeping into all your senses, making the air warmer than it usually is in the gym. With his palm on your back too, you’re starting to think this little affection of yours is getting out of hand. You don’t even look to see how much it has helped.

Somehow, you do eventually get through the sets, but you hadn’t realized that during that time he would actually train you. It was progressive overload, and he brought the weight up to what he thought you could handle each time. You were on the last few.

“C’mon, you got it.”

“I don’t,” you grunt while somewhat laughing, still pulling it to your chest. His voice is more declarative now. You deem it as his professional tone. You also wonder which voice he tends to use in—

“You do. It’s one more—make it your best.”

“Ready for the next?” His lips stretch into a smile, already predicting your answer.

And you do just that, slumping on the seat in victory.

“Good girl,” he praises, clapping, and he changes the weight on the machine to just five before twisting around and holding a hand out. He helps you up when you take it, but you’re really trying to figure out if what he said was professional if it made you clench your thighs.

You bend and get your smoothie, popping the top and drinking, “There’s a next? What’s next?”

“Pull ups of course.”

Truthfully, doing pull ups right after lax for someone who doesn’t really train arms is a death wish. It’s just this once though and your arms will already be sore so he might as well make the most of it while the adrenaline is there.

“Oh dear God,” you sigh.

“I’ll do them with you,” he reassures.

—•—

And he stands on his word, because after walking over to the bar, he clips the belt attached to weight around his hips. The bar was relatively high, even he can admit, so he isn’t surprised when you ask how the hell you’re supposed to get up there.

And you weren’t even necessarily short, it’s just the bar was made for 6’0 and over men, and athletes, so people like you were left out, hence the stacked boxes meant for help beside it.

Iwaizumi makes sure the belt is secure around himself before walking over to you, taking a stance directly behind.

He commands, “Arms up, sweetheart.” And it must be the proximity, because you do just that without a fight. The pet name contributed too.

But when he lifts you, he first drags his hands from your shoulder blades, to your ribs, and into the small of the your back. So smooth you’re questioning if he did it on purpose.

He couldn’t help it. Not when he’s hovering behind you, almost a foot taller. With one small nudge of his hips forward, he’d rest comfortably right between your ass, smelling the coconut shampoo of your hair. Though instead of being a pervert, he’d stick to the nicknames and the gentle touches until you get the damn hint.

Sometime later he’s effortlessly hauling himself up, counting one by one with you. He says you’ll only do 3 sets of ten. Either way it was burning by the ninth.

—•—

Finally you’re done. The only reason your arms aren’t completely limp is the adrenaline of just being around the attractive man next to you. He literally regulates your blood flow.

And you regulate his.

“Okay, now you have to do my workouts.”

He unclips the belt, turning to face you, amused. “I have to do your workouts?”

Your arms come to a cross offensively. “What does that mean? Yes. I did your arm day, now you have to do my leg day.”

He throws his hands in the air defensively, the curl of his lips threatening to break his character, “I’m just saying it won’t be the sa—”

“This way!”

—•—

This was a horrible idea.

He’s situated on the angled leg press machine at a diagonal, now gripping onto the handle bars. The amount of circular plates you usually have on it are already there. You’re standing beside him.

“Are you sure you don’t want to add weight? I usually go more than this,” he challenges.

“Fuck you— no.”

His laughter intensifies at your irritation. Then he brings his legs down slow and controlled, somehow still managing to appear like he could do it with his fucking finger if he tried. You’re not surprised, he’s extremely fit; though you had already catered to this by going whatever your highest weight was.

He guffaws again at your blank expression. “Fine. How much more do you need?”

He appears to think for a moment. Instead of calculating the math like he should be, he’s actually doing nothing of the sort. “Get up there.”

He bends his legs as if confirming he’s dead serious by allowing you to actually step foot on the back of the plate. You stand there still, having not even realized what he’s asking you to do. “What?”

“Get your sweet ass up there and that should be about what my usual weight is.” He shoots a nonchalant glance to the machine. “You won’t fall, if that’s what’s bothering you.”

After a few moments, with an incredulous look painted on your face, you slowly step to the lowered machine, and push yourself up and on to the back, past the weighted plates, to sit not-very-comfortably in the middle. “Uhm…”

“Perfect.”

This time, it didn’t look as easy, but he very much did an entire press to extend his legs out. You watch in wonder over the plate as he carried your weight and plus some just in his legs.

It was his arm day, and you didn’t get to fully watch him do the pull ups since the focus was keeping yourself on the bar. But you got a glimpse when he finished, biceps flexing and pulling extra weight then too. He was strong. You wonder if he puts it to use with his partner?

With his partner. What if he does have a partner? You shake your head, no, he wouldn’t have asked you to do what you’re doing if he did.

His grunts were a nice addition too.

Counting for him aloud, and not completely sure if you didn’t skip a number even though you’re only going to ten, you helped him through the set. It had been a while since there was someone to cheer him on. He was always doing the cheering.

“Okay okay,” you wait for him to finish the set, then get off. It feels so good to have your feet on the ground, sure that you won’t be yelled at by the gym staff to remove yourself from the equipment. “You’ve proved yourself, muscleman.”

“Great, I’ll take you out Saturday then?” He asks, pressing up the remaining weight easy and locking up the machine so he can leave it.

A flush runs across your cheeks, driving you to pick up your drink and sip to hide it. “You don’t know me. What if I have a husband and kids at home?”

You were projecting, you know that. It was fresh on your mind since you slightly wanted to ask him the same question. He stalks over to you.

“I don’t see a ring on your finger,” he observes, nodding to your right hand, making you look as if you didn’t know it was bare. He only stops walking until you’re face to face, way too close to just be a professional interaction. It only worsens when his thumb and index finger pinches your chin, his eyes sending flames through yours. “And let’s both be honest— if there was someone waiting for you at home, you wouldn’t be here with me.”

Let alone at the gym at all, he wanted to add. Whatever pussy was letting you come here to workout instead of telling you how good it feels to have your thick thighs ricocheting off his skin or how good your stretch marks look after being swollen with a child for nine months, doesn’t deserve you anyway.

He doesn’t kiss you, but he swipes your lips with his finger and retreats. The heat doesn’t dissipate.

“Saturday at 7?” You speak softly. So softly and breathless you aren’t even sure if he heard it as he walks away.

“My number’s in your bag, beautiful,” he winks, and then he’s turning the corner, back to where you met earlier in the morning.

smash

If you wanted like actual nsfw, (whoever sent the ask) just send in another into my inbox or just dm me asking!! LMAO

You get unlimited access!!

©️hxltic

[ohimsummer]

sequel to this

content: edging/orgasm denial, explicit language, ass slapping, choking, meandom! Eren, brat-taming?, if you see mistakes in this (no you didn’t), also mans is just fed up with you LOL

The dull pain in your shoulders had grown faint but constant, and your wrists ache under Eren’s bruising hold. He squeezes your throat tight enough to have you wheezing for air, before shoving two thick fingers into your mouth and down your throat. It forces out a choked gag and his malicious chuckle rings in your ear, followed by harsh suckles along the side of your neck. The energy behind Eren’s thrusts never let up, relentless and brutal and driving broken cries of his name from your kiss-swollen lips. Your ass is sore from the way he pounds into you, and how hard his hand met the bare flesh, so hard you’re sure to have the handprint ingrained in your skin.

That distinctive feeling begins to grow within you again, spreading across your body and sending fiery heat over your skin. Eren fucks even harder into your clenching cunt, and just as you were moments away from squirting all over his dick, he stops.

The protest can’t even leave your lips before he’s interrupting you. “Shut up. You’re not cumming. Not with the shit you pulled today.”

“Bu-“. A gasp gets stuck in your throat as he lands another painful smack across your ass.

“None of that fucking begging either, not tryna hear that shit.”

You have no choice but to lie there in misery as your high dies down, ass-up and listening to the lewd, slick sounds of Eren finishing himself off between your thighs. He cums with a grunt and leans forward to loom over your trembling body; your eyes are blurry and burning with tears so he’s just a vague shape in your vision, but you can just make out his heaving chest and the dark, disheveled hair running over his shoulders. You gaze at his hand flattened into the sheets inches from your head. Eren grinds his hips forward, slotting his dick between your dripping folds, and massaging your swollen, aching clit. You don’t dare move in fear you’ll trigger something and he’ll stop, so you just whisper out a sigh as your orgasm starts to build up again. Eyes screwed shut in frustration, you wonder if you could ease your thighs together and get something more out of Eren’s languid pace. It’s infuriatingly slow, but you’ll be damned if you open your mouth to complain and piss him off even more. Besides, this has to be torture for him, too.

It takes a while, way longer than you appreciate, for that coil in your stomach to tighten enough for you to really start to feel something. Eren notices your breath hitch, and leans back to watch the tip of his cock tease at your spasming entrance. His head falls back and he lets out a groan as he sinks into your heat, pussy sucking him like he was made to be there. “Fuck.”, he curses, a hand trailing over the globe of your ass before running it down the arch of your back to stop at your nape. You squeeze your walls around him, desperate for any sort of sensation at this point, but all it earns you is a tightened grip on your neck.

“Don’t.”, he warns, and you listen.

Eren begins fucking into you once more, slowly at first, but soon he’s sending your hips careening forward with every thrust. His tongue darts over his lips as he watches you lose control of your volume, going from poorly held back whimpers to full-blown shrieking out his name. And the sight of you coming more and more undone on his dick had him on the verge of losing his mind. There was the heavy urge to grab hold of your hips and pound into you hard enough to have you losing your voice. But alas, you were such a fucking brat today. He couldn’t allow such a luxury.

Eren slips his dick from your sloppy, wet hole and rests it on top of your ass. The sound of your anguished cries of protest is just barely audible over his huffs for air and the thumping of his heart in his ears.

“Erennn.” Your whine is high and drawn-out, and ended with a broken sob as the tears begin to flow freely from your eyes, squeezed shut. You don’t say anything else, but you hope the sight of your miserable, needy form is enough to elicit a little mercy from him. It’s not.

He grabs hold of your hair to pull you against his chest. “What the fuck did I tell you about the begging? You wanted to act like a whore tonight, now you can get treated like one, too.”

Eren releases your hair, throwing you back against the mattress. You looked so pathetic, crying and whining just because you couldn’t cum for one night. If he was totally honest with himself, Eren wouldn’t mind letting you cum just once, just to feel your cunt flutter and convulse around his cock when your juices spurted all over him, and then be able fill your little hole up full with his cum. But you just had to go being a little asshole all night, and now both of you had to suffer the consequences.

Eren pressed his hand between your shoulder blades, mashing you further into the bedsheets as he braced himself behind you. Whatever, he was gonna make you pay for it.

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

Why You?

TW: indecent language, slight smut, mentions of violence

Rebecca waited in her office for Keeley, how she wished she could rip that woman’s head off. It aggravated her that the woman was so bitchy but perfect. Keeley finally barged in seeing Rebecca pacing around, she plopped down onto the sofa. “Okay! What now!” She groaned, Rebecca rubbed her temples as she paced back to her desk. She scrolled up to see y/n’s perfectly sculpted face, “AGH!” she screamed, “why the fuck is she so perfect?” She seethed, leaning on her desk. “She’s so annoying, I swear!” She exclaimed, Keeley had about enough and smacked the sofa. A loud bang echoed around the room.

“JUST TELL HER YOU LOVE HER GODDAMIT! EVEN HELEN KELLER CAN SEE IT! AND SHE’S FUCKING BLIND REBECCA!” Keeley yelled over Rebecca to get her attention, the tall blonde woman looked at her taken a back. “Just. Tell. Her. It’s not that hard, Becca!” The tall blonde pouted and slouched into her chair. “But-“

“Rebecca! I love you. But shut the fuck up. Please.” Keeley stood up, walking over to Rebecca she gave her a tiny lecture of how she shouldn’t be scared to ask her out. “Now, hand me your laptop” Rebecca cooperated, handing the shorter woman her sliver colored laptop. Keeley grinned, “now. You won’t be getting this back until you ask her out. So, either you ask her or you don’t get this. Bye!” Keeley quickly ran out of the office with Rebecca yelling out her name.

Rebecca’s POV

I leaned on the office door frame and sighed. I groaned loudly as I moved and slammed the door shut. “Get your shit together, Rebecca. You’re a grown ass woman…just ask her out” I mumbled, walking roughly down the stairs, I stopped for a minute, what if she says no? I think. No. I’m Rebecca fucking Welton. There isn’t any way in hell she would reject me. But-

“Boss, you okay?” Ted’s voice came from the bottom of the stairs, I looked at him and smiled. “No, I’m fine!-“ flailing my arms in the air and bringing them to my side acting cool, leaning on the rail.

He smacks his lips and squints his eyes, “Oklahoma?”

“I’mfuckedandIdon’tknowifIshouldasky/noutornotcauseI’mscared she’llrejectme” I blurted, he pursed his lips and widened his eyes, “welp. You better be in your way then.” I at him in disbelief, “no peptalk?” He exclaimed and clapped his hands together, he smiled at me and laughed. Finally, he did a fist pump and calm down, only a little bit though, “I knew you liked my peptalks! Anyways, y/n isn’t that bad. She’s really sweet so just go ask her! And if anyone asks..you didn’t hear this from me but..she likes you back to! She was ranting about it this morning!” Rebecca looked at her feet for a moment before looking up at him to find he was there. She would never find out how that man worked.

Nervous, I walked sheepishly to y/n’s office. There she sat, hair messily put into a bun, french tipped nails clicking away on her keyboard. My hands shook as I knocked on the open door. Her focus was broken from her laptop and onto me, “oh, hey Rebecca. I didn’t know you were here. I thought you went to lunch with Keeley?” She asked, smiling at me. Closing her laptop, she rounded her desk and went to her mini bar. Opening the mini fridge she grabbed herself a water, Rebecca chuckled knowing there was no other use for the mini bar since y/n didn’t drink. “Wine?” She asked, already pouring some into the glass. “You know me too well, y/n”

“Well, besides from Keeley, you spend too much time with me. I wouldn’t be surprised if you beat everyone in a ‘Who Know’s Y/n Best.’” She laughed, taking her AFC Richmond jacket off. I watched as she slid it down her shoulders.

I saw a slight smirk grace her face, she knew what she was doing to me. And she enjoyed every second of it.

She was wearing a cropped tank top under which was very fitting. I bit my lip, the unspeakable things I would do to her if she just asked. “Aren’t you supposed to be in training?” I asked, taking a sip of my red wine. She turned around letting her hair perfectly drop around her shoulders.

“Yeah, but I’d much rather be here with you” her voice was amorous as she stared at me with desire in her eyes. I smirked as she sat next to me. “Is that so, Miss y/l/n?” I cooed, leaning in. Y/n giggled, “mhm” I glided my hand up her thigh and onto her butt, shifting her so she was in my lap. She lowly chuckled, her smug face was wiped off when I leaned in, my face millimeters from hers. “Please…” she groaned, I smirked, “Please what, Darling?” “Fuck me.”

[kittenofdoomage]

Before We Snap

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

Prompt: takes his time loving the view

Word Count: 500

Warnings: est.relationship, smut, fingering

For months it had been nothing but hurried fucks in dark corners, quiet and quick lovemaking when Sam was asleep in the opposite bed and Dean was getting tired of it. Jumping from case to case was slowly killing all three of you, so he made the decision; the ghouls were dead, Bobby could handle anything else, you were taking a break.

Sam assumed it was back to the bunker, so when Dean pulled into the parking lot of a nice-looking hotel an hour away and then handed him the keys, he was bewildered. You had no idea what was going on either, even when Dean tugged you from the car, retrieving your bags from the trunk.

“Have fun, Sammy. I’ll call you when we need a ride.”

“You’re sure?” the younger man asked, sliding over into the driver’s seat. “You don’t want me to -”

“Nope,” Dean insisted, popping the “p” and draping his arm over your shoulders. “We need some decent alone time.”

Sam didn’t seem to need any more encouragement and he quickly departed, leaving you to stare at Dean as he led you to the front of the hotel. “What’s going on?” you asked quietly.

“Well, we’re gonna get a nice room here,” he began. “Then we’re gonna take long showers or baths or whatever, eat buffet lobster, and then…” He trailed off, lowering his voice until you were the only one who could hear him. “I’m gonna fuck you six ways from goddamn Sunday because we deserve it.”

It had been so long since you’d been able to take your time with anything, and the more you got to indulge, the more grateful you felt for Dean’s decision. The bath, the dinner, everything was more luxurious than you’d grown accustomed to in the past few months.

“See,” he murmured as he tugged you back behind the privacy of the hotel room door, “sometimes I have good ideas.”

“Yeah,” you admitted, gasping when he began to kiss a path down your throat. “You really do.”

He had you bare and on your knees minutes later, bent over the large leather stool at the foot of the bed. You whimpered as he eased two fingers into your soaked channel, clinging to the fabric underneath you. “Gonna take my time with this too,” Dean groaned, using his other hand to free himself from his pants. The heft of his cock landed against your ass, and you squirmed impatiently, desperate to feel him inside you.

Without bothering to remove his pants, he pressed the tip against your soaked entrance as he withdrew his fingers, wiping your slick over his shaft. The penetration was slow and purposeful, and Dean growled low in his throat as he grabbed your ass to open you up, watching your body swallow him whole.

“Good thing we’re gonna be here a couple days,” he murmured, pulling out just as slowly as he’d pushed in. “I’m gonna need a long while to get my fill of you.”

[anniesocsandgeneralstore]

Come Over Here and Overwhelm Me: up the coast (Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC)

Summary: Maverick stops by The Hard Deck to clear the air - then Hangman steals Ronnie away to make his intentions plain.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC (Ronnie Bradshaw)

Word Count: 6270

Warnings: hangman being soft for one ronnie bradshaw, mav reunion, lying to wait staff in order to get free food, talks of infertility/sperm banks

THREE | FOUR | FIVE

A/N: likes are great but reblogs/comments are even better!

Ronnie always thought it was fun when bars had a signature drink. A concoction unique to that place that people would drive miles and miles to try. Ronnie had been trying to come up with something for The Hard Deck for months. But anything she tested with Penny was either horrible, too strong, or not strong enough. She didn’t think that making up her own drink recipe would be this hard, but there she stood — behind the bar way before opening, a bowl in front of her and a selection of spirits and juices. Ready to be turned into what she was determined to be The Hard Deck’s signature drink.

She wanted it to be something fruity — but not something that the macho-men who frequented the bar would shy away from. She cut up limes, oranges, lemons, and strawberries and placed them at the bottom of the bowl. Next came the alcohol. A nice mix of coconut rum and peach schnapps. She picked up a wooden spoon and mixed that together before turning to the juices she had selected. 

This wasn’t just her wanting to make a good drink, however. She also wanted a distraction from what happened the night before. 

Jake kissing her on the beach. Her skin tingled at the thought of it still. She was still deciding on whether or not she regretted it. The majority of her said no. She hadn’t let it go any further than the kiss — and he had respected her wishes. They went to separate beds that night and it felt good on her conscience. But her mind ached at the implications of it all. Of that soft groan he let out at her calling him by his real name. Of the way his lips were soft and gentle and full of yearning against her own. She grinned as she opened the bottle of berry juice — uncontrollable and so powerful it made her cheeks hurt.

She had missed his kiss. The sheer confidence of it, like he was practiced — but that didn’t bother her one bit. She had had plenty of practice too since the last time she saw him. It reminded her of the first time he kissed her all those years ago. He had done it to shut her up, because she was rambling about how much of an ass he was. It was just one peck at first, just like last night. But then she was between the wall of the I Bar and Jake’s body and she couldn’t even remember why she was talking in the first place. She was like putty in his hands, forming whichever way he chose. And she didn’t even mind — God, she didn’t mind at all. 

Should it have embarrassed her how easily she fell back into him? Probably. Was she going to actually get embarrassed by it? Absolutely not. She was a grown woman, and Jake was a grown man. Far more grown up than the last time they were together, it seemed. And she was willing, hesitantly willing, to see where this would go.

The front door of the bar opened just as she started pouring into her mixture a bit of pineapple juice. She looked up from what could really only be described as a colorful witch’s brew, expecting to see Jimmy or Jay coming in to start their shifts. But she was taken aback when Maverick sauntered into the bar. 

“Uh…” She paused, half-empty bottle of juice still tipped in her hand. “C-Can I help you?”

“Penny said you would be here,” Maverick said as he put his hands into his jacket pockets.

Curse you Penny, Ronnie thought as she resisted the urge to roll her eyes into the back of her head. She knew her partner meant well, trying to give her a gentle nudge towards reconciling with those that had hurt her. But, Jesus, did she have to spring these occasions on her like a sudden tidal wave at sea? 

“So, uh…” He trailed off as he lowered himself into the barstool in front of her. “Whatcha doin’?”

“Trying to create my own drink. It hasn’t gone well so far,” she replied curtly, tone clipped and tight as she screwed the cap back on the pineapple juice. 

Maverick smiled. “I’m sure it hasn’t been that bad.” 

“Oh, trust me, it’s been bad.” Ronnie picked over her selection of juices and decided on the orange next. “Tried this thing with tequila and cream — it was awful.”

“That does sound…That sounds pretty bad, yeah,” he chuckled. 

Ronnie sighed, leaning with her palms flat on the bartop as she level Maverick with a look. Eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. 

“What’re you doing here, Maverick?”

“I got asked back to TOPGUN to train — “ 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she said.

Maverick dropped his head with a sigh, hands fiddling together on the bartop. “Right. I came here…I came here to apologize to you. For everything.” 

“Uh-huh,” she hummed out. 

She couldn’t look at him while he did this. Knowing that if she dared look into his face she would burst into child-like tears. So instead, she kept her head down. Focused on opened up the orange juice and pouring what felt like the right amount into the bowl. As she mixed it with the spoon she had the thought that this was more of a punch than a single serving drink. Shit. This wasn’t going to work either. 

“I-I’m sorry that I stopped talking to you — that I abandoned you. I should have been there for you, I should have taken more responsibility. Your dad would have been ashamed of the way I treated you. And I’m ashamed of myself too. I just thought that…What I did to Bradley was unforgivable and so I thought that you would never be able to forgive me either. At the time I wanted to save myself the heartache — so I cut you both out. And I’m…God, I’m so sorry, Ronnie. I really am.” 

“I know why you pulled his papers,” she muttered, glancing up at him as she continued to stir her concoction. 

“What?”

“My mom asked you to. She always said she didn’t want either of us to fly. Rooster never wanted to listen.” 

She finally looked up at him then. There were tears rimming his eyes. He looked shocked at her confession, but also relieved. 

“Did you — Have you told him that?” he asked. 

“No.” Ronnie shook her head. “He doesn’t need to resent her, too.”

She didn’t want him to, but he caught the meaning behind her tone. “He doesn’t resent you, Ronnie.” 

“Whatever. Doesn’t matter now, does it?” She smiled stiffly as she banged the spoon on the rim of the bowl, trying to shake off the excess liquid so it wouldn’t get all over the bartop. “What I’m trying to say is — is that I understood why you did what you did. And I still wanted you around…Even if Rooster didn’t.”

Maverick’s expression softened. “I’m sorry, Veronica.” 

Veronica. Maverick was always the only one to ever call her that. Something about how her dad wanted to name his little girl that for the longest time, how it always reminded Maverick of those good times. It made her smile now, tears blurring her vision. She reached out and took his hand. 

“I forgive you.”

Maverick released a giant breath, like a weight was finally lifted off his shoulders. Ronnie gave his hand one good squeeze before she ducked down behind the bar. She pulled out two small glasses and coasters for each.

“Now, you wanna try this monstrosity with me?” she asked with a small smile. 

“It would be my pleasure,” he replied. 

She spooned a good portion into each glass, making sure to pull out a piece of each cut up fruit to go in as well. That was how she would serve it if it was a real drink, anyway. She handed one of the glasses to Maverick and raised her own.

“Cheers,” she said with a grin.

“Cheers.”

They clinked their glasses together and both took a tentative sip of the drink. The rum wasn’t too overpowering, the juices toned it down, and the slightly peachy flavor of the schnapps was just subtle enough to make the drink’s overall flavor more complex. 

Maverick pulled the glass away from his lips with raised brows and narrowed eyes. “Oh, that’s good.”

“Really?” she questioned with wide smile, taking another sip of the drink.

“Oh, that’s really good,” he repeated before taking a larger gulp.

The french doors that looked out over the beach at the back of the bar opened. In the quietness of the empty bar, it was easy to hear. Maverick looked over Ronnie’s shoulder to see who it was while she turned to tell whoever it was to get lost. The bar didn’t open until five — just like the sign side. Her mouth was already opening, ready to kick them out, when she spotted exactly who it was that was walking through the door. 

Jake poked his head inside, sunglasses pushed up onto his head. “Ronnie, you here?”

He grinned once he spotted her behind the bar. He took a few steps inside. But then he noticed Maverick sitting behind her and his smile dropped. Jake immediately went rigid, hand popped up to his forehead in salute. 

“Captain,” he said.

“At ease, Lieutenant.” Maverick nodded his head.

“Jake, go wait outside,” Ronnie told him softly. 

He didn’t even hesitate to turn tail and go back out the door. Ronnie turned back to Maverick with a guilty smile, already knowing what expression she may find on his face. And she had guessed correctly. His eyebrows were raised, lips tight — though beneath the surprise he looked amused, glad even. She didn’t have to say anything for him to know what was going on. The look on Jake’s face when he spotted her was all he needed. He set his glass down on the bartop.

“Your brother doesn’t like him very much,” Maverick pointed out after a moment. 

“He didn’t like him four years ago either. Didn’t stop me then and it sure as hell isn’t gonna stop me now.” Ronnie set down her glass as well. “Just…Don’t tell him. Okay?”

“Will that make it up to you?” he asked. 

“Oh, absolutely not. But it’s a start.”

Maverick grinned. “I can work with that.”

The pair smiled at each other. Something that hadn’t happened in such a long time it should have felt foreign. But instead, it felt like home. It felt like backyard barbeques and family road trips three years after the fact when you’re no longer cramped and miserable. When all you can remember is the good stuff — the beautiful views and the entire family singing along to a song. 

“Alright, now, get out of my bar.” Ronnie nodded her head towards the front door, a smile still tugging at her lips. “Come back when we’re open.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Maverick said as he got up from the stool. 

“Penny’ll be here tonight,” Ronnie said with a heavy amount of implication and her eyebrows raised. 

Maverick stopped on his way to the door, head tilted to look over his shoulder at her. “Will she?”

“Yep,” she replied with a pop of the p.

“Alright then.” With that, he walked out the door. 

Ronnie chuckled as she watched him go. Then she turned towards the back door, to the bright blue sky and white sands of the beach. Jake was still out there, pacing back and forth out on the porch with his hands in his pockets. Butterflies erupted in her stomach at the sight of him. Her lips tingled anew.

He was in his civies today. A pair of jeans and a green t-shirt that looked glorious against his tanned skin. He still wore his watch, his dogtags poked out from the collar of his shirt. He paused in his pacing, back turned to her so he could look out over the ocean. 

Ronnie slipped through the backdoor quietly. Jake turned when he heard the old door squeak open and shut. 

“Did you need something?” she asked gently. 

He walked up to her slowly, a cocky sort of swagger in his step as he approached. For a moment, she thought he would press her into the wall and kiss her fiercely. Part of her anticipated it. But he surprised her yet again, in the best way possible, when he simply leaned down and pressed a sweet kiss to her cheek. 

“Do you, uh…Wanna get outta here?” he asked with a furrowed brow. 

“And go where?” She grinned, leaning back against the wall of the bar. 

Jake took her hand in his, she looked down at their conjoined hands with reddened cheeks — her stomach flipping. How did he make her feel like a teenager again? How had he opened her up so quickly? Climbed her walls and stormed the gates — leaving her defenseless? Had she ever really put up her defenses for him in the first place?

“I distinctly remember you loving this pizza place up the coast.” 

“You remember Castallucci’s Albergo?” she laughed.

“Of course I remember the place,” he said, bringing their hands up to play with her much smaller hand. “You told everyone I was about to be shipped out to my death and got our table loaded with free stuff.”

It was towards the end of his time in Marimar, when he was about to graduate. When they were telling themselves that this was still just a casual fling and they didn’t really feel anything for each other. When he just wanted to get away from base and she had heard about a restaurant about forty minutes away. When he had climbed into her truck and she tried not to reach over and touch him the entire drive. When they laughed and told stories and held hands across the table. When it first started feeling like way more than just a fling. 

“Yeah — and it worked didn’t it?”

Jake looked down at his boots as he laughed, then he looked back up at her through hooded eyes, a smile quirking his lips. “Wanna see if you can do it again?”

Ronnie narrowed her eyes at him, tongue poking out between her teeth as she thought. She was no fool. She knew that he was going to leave in just a few short weeks for his next assignment God knew where. He had always been adamant about not wanting to be tied down, about focusing on his career, about how he was too much of a catch to be with just one person. But she always had been able to see through that facade. That mask he liked to put on. He was with her, just her, for an entire year. He liked to act like he didn’t need anyone, but she knew better. 

Still, here and now, his intentions remained unclear to her.

Eventually, she agreed. “Yeah. Sounds nice.” 

Jake smiled, lowering their hands and dragging her off the porch. He barely gave her time to tell Jimmy that she was leaving — that she would be back before close. Then he was pulling her along towards his car parked out front. 

He opened the car door for her like a true Southern gentleman, hand on his chest and a slight bow of his head. She rolled her eyes with a smile as she got into the car. The top was down, letting in all that beautiful sunshine that the day had given them. Ronnie pulled her sunglasses from her bag and put them on her face as Jake got into the driver’s seat. 

“Can you get me there?” he asked, starting the engine. 

“Yeah. Remember how to get to Old 45 North?” She watched as he lowered his own sunglasses from the top of his head to the bridge of his nose.

“Think so.” 

“Once you’re on there it’s a straight shot to Castellucci’s Albergo.”

“Cool, cool, cool.” 

He pulled out of his parking space and out onto the road. The wind whipped through their hair as he drove, Ronnie giving little hints to get him going in the right direction. Jake assuring her that he knew where he was going. Her not believing him.

It was a beautiful California day. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, the ocean bright blue and sparkling on their left as they drove up the coast. Old 45 steadily climbed the side of a mountain, working it’s way up to a small town at its peak that overlooked the ocean. Castellucci’s Albergo was an inn style pizza restaurant that just so happened to get the best piece of real estate in the whole town. Right on the cliff face, over-looking the great expanse of the ocean.

Ronnie leaned her head back with a small noise of content, eyes closed, basking in the afternoon sun as they went. Jake watched her out of the corner of his eye. She looked like summer personified. Sunglasses, hair dyed blonde in places by the sun, tanned skin, wearing a blue and white striped sundress that fit her perfectly. Warm and inviting and happy. Really happy. 

He could feel some of that happiness rub off on him anytime he was around her. When they talked inside the bar on his first day back. When they went surfing just the night before. It made him long to be with her again and again and again. So as soon as training was done that day, he was out the door and headed straight for The Hard Deck in hopes of seeing her. Everyone had questioned where he was going in such a hurry — but he paid them no mind. 

Coyote even asked him: “Man, every single night since we got here you’ve been runnin’ off. Where’re you goin’?”

“That is for me to know — and for you to find out.”

That answer had left Coyote rolling his eyes, but he did back off. Jake didn’t want anyone else to know about Ronnie. Not yet anyway. Not like they would believe him even if he did say he had found someone. They all sincerely believed the arrogant, cocky front he put up for them. A tactic to keep them at arms length. Another layer on top of that was Rooster. 

Jake glanced over at Ronnie, keeping his eyes focused on the winding road ahead. He hadn’t heard Rooster say anything to anyone about his sister being in town. Not even to Phoenix who he seemed closest to. Ronnie barely brought him up either. Jake had to wonder if he ever found out about their first relationship, and if he would find out about this one. At this point, with the distance between the two Bradshaws, it seemed unlikely. 

But Jake wanted to do this right. And that meant everyone being in the know and okay with them being together. 

Together. The thought of it made Jake smile. 

They passed a sign that read “CAUTION FALLING ROCKS” and Ronnie suddenly sat up, gasping. Jake jerked to attention, both hands on the wheel as he looked around at the practically deserted road more closely. 

“What? What?” he questioned wildly. 

“I almost died on this road!” Ronnie laughed. “I totally forgot until we passed the sign!” 

Jake put a hand to his chest. “Jesus, don’t scare me like that. Thought we were gonna hit something.”

“No, no — sorry!” she giggled, touching the tips of her fingers to his forearm, then immediately retracting her hand.

There was a pause as they continued on the road, a cliff face rising on their right, the ocean below them on the left. Jake shrugged. “So’re you gonna tell me how you almost died or not?”

“Oh, right. Me and my friend Jackie were taking the drive up here a few months ago. We were absolutely blaring some Taylor Swift — cause you know I love me some Taylor Swift. And the sign said caution falling rocks like it always does even though rocks like never fall around here. So we’re drivin’ and we’re drivin’...”

Jake smiled softly as he listened to her ramble on. Her hands gesticulated wildly as she embellished the details. The point of the story being that a few small rocks fell behind the car. No where close to them, in fact. Jake laughed as she reached the climax of her tale. 

“You’re laughing,” she huffed, hands tossed up in the air. “I almost died and you’re laughing.”

“Sorry, sorry. You barely scraped by those rocks…That fell several yards behind you.” Jake stifled another laugh. 

“They fell right behind us! It was scary!”

“I’m sure it was. You’re so brave.”

He wasn’t thinking. Just like he did when he was flying. He followed his gut, let his instincts take over — knowing that they were right at least ninety-percent of the time. And just like when he was up in the air, he was hyper aware when he lifted his right hand off the steeringwheel and placed it on her thigh instead. The skin was warm from the sun, soft, the muscle strong and hard underneath from years of balancing on surf boards and skating. He felt her tense beneath his touch for only a moment, and then she relaxed. Giving her flesh a gentle squeeze, he smiled. 

“So brave,” he insisted. 

Ronnie crossed her arms with a huff. “I am very brave, thank you.”

She folded her left leg under the other, moving her thigh closer to his touch. He wondered if that was some instinct of her own.

When they got to the restaurant, after a beautiful, quiet drive, Jake asked for the best seat in the house. A table for two right next to the western facing windows that had that incredible view of the ocean. He pulled the Navy card in order to get it and Ronnie gave him an impressed thumbs up as they were led back to their table. Castellucci’s Albergo was like a tiny slice of classic Italy. The floors were tiled in white and dark blue, the chairs were plush, the tablecloths were authentic and pristine, the ivy vines growing around the windows trimmed to perfection. It was no wonder it was Ronnie’s favorite restaurant. 

Jake pulled out her chair for her, cutting off the waiter from doing so. Ronnie smiled softly as she sat down, heat in her cheeks. They ordered drinks first and told the waiter to come back for their food order. Jake got a water, Ronnie got a blackberry Italian soda. 

A question she had been thinking about asking for a long time bubbled out of her before she could put anymore tact behind it: “Why are you doing this, Hangman?”

He flinched slightly at the reversion to his callsign.

“Doin’ what, darlin’?”

“Going surfing with me even though you’re terrible. Kissing me on the beach. Taking me on drives to a restaurant we went to four years ago. I just…I can’t…” She couldn’t find the words. And when Jake reached across the table and took up her hand in his own, she both hated and loved how much comfort it brought her. “I can’t fall in love with you again just for you to leave in a week. I need to know what your intentions are…I need to know this is real.” 

He perked up, face bright as he questioned softly, “You loved me?”

“Of course I did.” She rolled her eyes, but her voice was gentle and full of longing as she tacked on, “You idiot.” 

“You loved me,” he repeated to himself, almost like a prayer, “Shit, Ronnie — I fell in love with you the moment we started talking in that crusty bar four years ago.” 

She chuckled, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Didn’t I call you an idiot then, too?”

“Wow, you’re a real idiot if you think I’m gonna fall for that bullshit.” 

“Yeah, you did,” he chuckled, “You took me down a peg, and…And I know I need that from time to time.” 

“More like all the time,” she muttered cheekily. 

“Okay — all the time. I loved you then but I couldn’t…I couldn’t let you in. So I pushed you away.” His green eyes met her from across the table and he squeezed her hand hard, like she was about to slip away. “I — I regretted it as soon as I walked out your door that day. I wanted to run right back inside.” 

“Why didn’t you?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Jake shook his head. “You know me, Ronnie. Pride got in the way. But I’m not…I can’t let it happen again. I’m not letting you go this time.”

She stared at him, long and hard for moments that felt like hours. Then her lips spread in one of those classic Ronnie Bradshaw smiles that felt like looking directly into the sun. 

“I won’t let go if you don’t.”

The waiter came back a few minutes later. They placed their orders, but not before Ronnie went on a tangent about how the man sitting across from her was about to be shipped out on a dangerous mission that could cost him his life. That they were sharing one last meal together — just in case it really was his last. They got a free appetizer out of it. Ronnie tried to hide her grin as she winked at Jake. And as he watched her work her magic, he felt like his insides melting, heating up like lava, ready to be poured out her feet. Some form of living sacrifice, gladly offered.

Jake pulled up to the curb in front of her house and put the car in park. It was dark by the time they got back to Marimar, full of pizza and stories and laughter. Her house was small, but homey, and absolutely screamed Ronnie. The gate was wooden and painted yellow, matching the front door. The siding of the house was a muted green, similar to his flight suit. The thought made him smile as he strummed his fingers over the steering wheel — waiting for her to get out of the car. 

“When do you have to be back on base?” Ronnie asked, hand perched on the door handle, not daring to meet his eyes.

“Not until tomorrow morning, technically,” he said. 

She glanced at her front door, then back to him with her lip caught between her teeth. “Wanna come inside for a drink? I have less shitty beer in my fridge.” 

“Don’t mind if I do,” he replied with a smile, turning off the car.

Ronnie got out of the car first, taking a deep breath as she did so. Her fingers slightly shaking as she walked up to the front gate. Jake followed closely behind her, hands shoved in his jean pockets and a small smile stuck on his face. She looked back over her shoulder at him as she reached over the gate and undid the barrel bolt lock on the other side. He could see the nerves lingering in her brown eyes, so he pressed his hand into her lower back. A reassurance and a promise as she led the way up the path to her door. He wasn’t leaving. Not this time.

Inside the house was just as Ronnie as the outside. Cluttered, slightly messy, years and years of nic-naks shoved into every corner and photos nearly everywhere he looked. Most of them weren’t even in frames. It was so similar to her apartment from all those years ago, only this time she chose the colors on the walls and the furniture wasn’t from Value Village. It was hand picked and curated and a place that felt lived in. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as he took in the vibe of the space — the smell, the sounds, everything. He had never had a place like this. 

He wanted to have a place like this…With her. 

“I’ll get those beers,” Ronnie said as she hurriedly cleared some throw blankets off the couch. “Just, uh — make yourself comfortable. Or whatever.” 

After that, she scurried into the kitchen and Jake had to chuckle. He lowered himself onto the couch. To occupy himself he looked around at the photos and decorations. There was a picture on the side table of her posing in front of the Eiffle Tower. She went to France? He picked up the frame to study it more closely. She looked beautiful. It was obviously a rainy day in the picture, her large raincoat and hair sticking to her forehead evidence enough. But her smile was massive, radiant — its own sun. Arms stretched wide and hip thrust to one side. He wondered who snapped the photo. He wished it would’ve been him. 

They lost so much time together, him and Ronnie. Time spent lonely and apart when they could’ve been making a home together, going on trips together, buying nic-naks together. Jake shook his head as he set the picture back down. 

Since when did he want to buy useless junk? God, if it was with her, he would do anything. 

His eyes caught on the coffee table next. It was cluttered with take-out menus and bills and — 

There was a pile of brochures, hidden beneath a Chinese menu. Jake brushed the menu aside and his eyes widened a fraction. California Cryobank. Fertility Center of California. Fairfax Cryobank. Each brochure clean and crisp, depicting either a joyous pregnant woman or a whole family smiling brightly on their covers. He pried one open then immediately closed it. He could see just from his quick glance that she had circled a few things. 

Jake’s brow furrowed just as Ronnie walked back into the room, a chilled bottle in each hand. 

He didn’t looked up at her as he lifted one of the brochures. “Are you trying to have a baby?”

Ronnie went rigid as her eyes locked on the brochure he held between two fingers. Shit. Her grip on the bottles tightened, she feared they may just slip out of her hands from the condensation. And she could feel an intense heat rising in her cheeks, no doubt turning her face a bright shade of red. Curse her for inviting Jake inside without doing any cleaning beforehand.

“Uh…” Their eyes finally locked and he didn’t seem mad, if anything, he just looked curious. She sighed, shoulders slumping. “I’ve been thinking about it, yeah.”

He flipped it open and his eyes skimmed through the text and pictures inside. “Why?”

“C-Cause I went to the gynecologist and — Jesus, Jake, I — “ She set the beers down on the coffee table and snatched the brochure away from him, picking up the other two, she folded them up. “Forget it. It was just a thought.” 

“Hey, hey — it’s okay. I’m not mad or anything.” Jake reached out as she tried to walk away, his fingers circling around her wrist and tugging her down to sit on the couch. He chuckled as he intertwined his fingers with her own. “S’not something that comes up easily in conversation with your ex you just got back together with.”

“True,” she laughed quietly, eyes focused on their joined hands. 

“So…What’d your doctor say?”

“That if I wanna have a baby of my own — I’m running out of time. I thin she said your window of opportunity is closing. Her bedside manner is truly terrible. And, I don’t know…I have a good income, a house. Figured I didn’t need a man in order to be a mom. Not really.” 

“You’ve always wanted to be a mom,” Jake muttered with a squeeze of her hand, more to himself than anything else.

Ronnie squeezed his hand back. She was surprised that he remembered her telling him that. She remembered that night well. When he was at her little apartment, freshly changed into a pair of sweats he kept at her place, and they were watching a movie. She couldn’t recall which one now, but it was something to do with family and kids and it had slipped out of her mouth before she even realized what she was saying. I want something like that. And in the back of her mind, that night, she imagined that life with Jake. 

They were silent for a while, Ronnie biting out chunks of the insides of her cheeks — Jake lost in thought as his thumb moved idly over the back of her hand. He couldn’t remember the movie either. But he could remember the sound of her voice, the soft whisper, the longing that laid beneath. It had sent his mind racing that night all those years ago. A white dress and a baby’s cry, sitting on the porch of a ranch house in Texas. He had pushed away the thoughts then, called them idiotic and insane. He had his career to think about, he didn’t want to be tied down by anyone or anything. 

He didn’t like those words anymore. Tied down. Like it was torture. Like he was some bull ready to be castrated. He looked over at Ronnie. Brown hair falling in her face and eyes lost somewhere else as she thought. It wouldn’t be miserable, not if it was her. 

“Could you wait a little while longer?” he asked quietly. 

Her head snapped over to look at him. From the the look on her face, she knew exactly what he was implying. Tears pooled in her eyes as she asked, “What?”

“I mean, how much longer did your doctor say you had until it was gonna get…More difficult?”

“A few years.” She angled herself towards him, taking his hand in both of hers. “Jake…Your career, I can’t…I can’t hold you back from that. It’s too important to you.”

“My career isn’t everything, Ronnie. Some things are more important.”

Ronnie stared at Jake — eyes wide and glistening with tears. He smiled at her softly, green eyes crinkled at the corners and gentle. Who was this man sitting beside her? Four years ago, he never even would have thought such a thing. He would have stepped over and on anyone in order to get ahead. Four years ago, she was just a bit of fun. Now he was talking about settling down with her, starting a family with her. It welled up in her chest, sudden and overpowering. It squeezed on her throat and made her fingers go numb. 

She loved him.

“Oh, I have to go into the other room suddenly.”

She shot up from the couch and practically ran into the kitchen. The constricting feeling in her chest eased a bit when she was out of his presence. But she also wanted to just run back into the room and smother him with all the love she was feeling. Leech some of it off herself and onto him. Because surely he felt it too, right? He had to. He just had to. She put her hands on the kitchen counter and leaned with a sigh, trying to collect her thoughts. 

Quiet footfalls followed her into the small kitchen. She squeezed her eyes shut against the noise, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth. She didn’t even realize she was trembling until Jake wrapped his arms around her waist, stilling her. He pressed a kiss against her neck — once, twice. 

Then he whispered, “I’m being serious, Ron.” 

“What’ll happen when you leave Marimar? I can’t just…Be left here again. I won’t do it.” 

“My next assignment’s stateside — DC.” His hand skimmed under the hem of her dress, leaving a fleeting touch across her thigh. “You could come with me.” 

She looked over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of blonde hair and tan skin. “And leave everything behind?”

“You’d have me. You’d always have me if you want me.”

Ronnie turned in his arms. She had never seen Jake look shy before. But there he was, arms slung low around her waist, face inches from her own. And he looked sheepish, anxious even as he studied her. As he waited for her response. Her hands smoothed up his chest, running over the soft fabric of his t-shirt, up the sides of his neck, and came to rest on either side of his face. She held him like that for a moment, studying him, fingers tracing over the soft line of his cheekbones.

He wanted her around. Despite everything, he wanted her to come with him to DC. He wanted her to be there when he got home. He wanted to have a baby with her. He wanted her to see him for who he really was. He wanted her to take on his mess and his joys, his victories and his losses. And she wanted it back more than anything. 

“A little life? Just you and me?” she whispered. 

The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile. “You and me, darlin’.”

“I thought you called everybody that,” she said with a grin.

“No.” He shook his head. “Just you.”

He kissed her and her hands moved to the back of his neck. Slowly, confidently, Jake put his hands under her thighs and lifted her up onto the counter. Without breaking the kiss, without even a hint of struggle.

Ronnie broke the kiss and gasped out like the words were escaping her at last: “I love you.”  “I know.” He grinned impishly, so classically Jake, but it made her laugh. “I love you — so, so much.”

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[miekasa]

do you have any cute (or h-word) bf headcanons for the Aot boys mie?

Of course I do, I have an ever-expanding list of headcanons for all of them, from how they react to you sitting in the backseat when they pick you up, down to whether or not they would rip your bandages off after your get a shot (spoiler: Eren, Porco, and Levi fucking would)

EREN sfw

He really likes holding hands, though it’s more of a calming habit for him. Holding hands keeps him grounded, and acts as an anchor for his anxiety; so he’ll grab and/or fidget with yours periodically.

He’ll steal your skincare if he’s over at your place, but honestly he just starts… copying it lmfao. Like, he’ll take notice of your face wash when he’s over he’s like “Oh, this is nice” and then a week later, he buys a bottle for himself. Then he buys your toner, and your moisturizer, and you stay over at his place and gotta do a double take bc he’s got damn near the same of everything at this point.

He doesn’t know if he believes that classical music actually helps him to concentrate, but he does know that he’s grown to like it, so it’s become his studying music of choice. He’s got favorite composers and everything.

He’d be upset if you didn’t steal his hoodies. That’s what they’re there for. He’ll make you steal them if he has to.

He hates standing in line. For anything. If he likes a restaurant that gets super busy at lunch, he’ll order ahead for pickup (and he feels special skipping the line). At amusement parks, he pays for the fast passes. If it’s shopping, then he’d rather just do it online.

On that note, he sucks at returning things that don’t fit/he doesn’t like when he shops online, so he honestly just keeps them, or gives them to his friends—it’s much easier than going through the hassle of printing a return label, according to him.

nsfw

He likes the idea of recording you guys during sex, but he’s honestly a little too nervous to do it—nervous about being recorded himself, and about it potentially getting out somewhere.

Likes it when you look him in the eyes when you cum. In fact, he somewhat demands it.

Similarly, he’s always watching you during sex. Mostly your face, for indications of how he’s making you feel and when you’re close to your orgasm (which is why he’s got a thing for you looking at him).

He used to hate masturbating, until he tried masturbating to the idea of you, and now he fucking loves that. He takes his time with it too—if he’s gonna jack off, he’s gonna make a moment of it: sit on his bed, turn the lights off, make sure he’s all alone and can go for as long as he wants.

Threesomes are fine with him, and he doesn’t even have to be the sole one in charge, depending on who’s joining you.

ARMIN sfw

He air-dries the majority of his clothes because he doesn’t want his sweaters and knitwear to shrink. Also, he likes the smell of his fabric softener permeating the room while the clothes dry.

On a similar note, he’s got sensitive skin—not to the point where a shirt less than 75% cotton irritates him; but he is conscious of fabrics and products he uses. Because of this, he takes extra care with his laundry, his pillowcases and bedsheets are satin as are the majority of his pajama shirts, and he never ever walks around without house slippers or he’ll irritate the bottom of his feet.

He’s scared of bugs, but he doesn’t like to kill them either. Honestly, he just kinda hopes spiders and stuff will crawl away without him intervening 😭😭

He likes board games, and has a thing for The Game of Life. He cannot play chess, even though most people would guess that he could, and he’s begun to practice by playing online versions against computers to learn.

He knows everyone’s gossip because everyone comes to him to gossip. And if he’s the therapist friend, then you’re the person who receives the summary of all the tea from him at the end of the week. And man can this boy throw a bitch fest when he’s in the right mood.

nsfw

He’s got a bit of an oral fixation, so he really likes having your mouth occupied; with his fingers, with your panties, with his dick—he’s not really picky.

Likes sex with the lights on. Claims it’s because he wants to “see all of you” (it’s really because he’s nervous he’ll fuck something up if he can’t see properly 😭😭)

He really likes making out. Like, a lot. Though it’s not something that happens often—so he builds up a lot of frustrating thinking about it, and it all comes crashing down, and ends up with you guys damn near dry humping each other on the couch for two hours.

That’s something that applies to him generally, too—he tends to let himself get very frustrated and worked up, whether he means to or not. He also thinks about sex quite frequently, and it only fuels his frustration; so when he snaps, he snaps hard.

He’d let you choke him back if you asked. Just ask nicely.

JEAN sfw

Loves studying in cafés and adores when you study with him; peeps up at you periodically when you sit across from him. He always pays for your drink, but sometimes you guys share, and he likes making a game out of reaching for the cup at the same time as you.

He’s very chivalrous, but he hates when you call him out for it, or make any kind of deal of it. He knows it’s chivalry, but he also knows it’s the bare minimum, plus he’s easily embarrassed—especially in public.

Loves having his hair played with, absolutely adores it. If you’re just holding his face, or resting your hand on his cheek, he’ll move himself further into your touch to maneuver your palm closer to his hair.

He really really really likes back hugs—giving and receiving them. If he’s standing behind you, he’ll most likely reach for a hug at some point (sometimes he won’t let go and you’ve gotta waddle with him on you). His ears get red when you give him a back hug but he always uses a hand to rest over your arms to tell you that he doesn’t want you to let go.

He can play the piano, but he doesn’t tell a soul about it. The only reason you found out it through his mom. He’s got stage fright, so he gave up on performing, but he’s really talented, and can almost play any song by ear.

nsfw

He loves the feeling of your hands on him, particularly if you’ve got long nails. Please scrape your nails against his back, or even just dig them into his biceps while he’s fucking you, it’ll drive him insane.

Along with liking having his hair played with, he adores having it pulled on—the attention and desperation in your actions goes straight to his ego and his dick.

One of his biggest fantasies is getting a lap dance from you. He’d never ever fucking say it out loud or dream of asking for it, but the idea of you stripping in front of him, down to lingerie he’d picked out for you, and teasing him until he can’t take it anymore and jumps you is something he thinks about… far more often than he should.

If you’re wearing his clothes (especially one of his t-shirts to bed, or around his apartment), he’s gonna fuck you in it. Jean has a lot of self control, but that’s one thing that’ll make him snap in an instant. And if you wear his shirt or hoodie out, he’s fucking you when you get home, it’s as simple as that.

CONNIE sfw

He studies with children’s shows playing the background. He doesn’t remember how he discovered that his method works for him, all he knows is that something about Paw Patrol makes for excellent background noise for writing his research papers.

He’s quite touchy with PDA, but if you guys are in a crowd then forget about it—because Connie might forget about you. He’s definitely left you at the grocery store before.

He eats cereal for breakfast every morning, and he’s kind of got a collection of them in his kitchen. He claims there are upscale cereals that he doesn’t just let anybody eat or even touch; so, if he offers you a midnight snack consisting of a bowl of his favorite (and very rare) cereal, then be honored.

He almost always pays with cash, but he hates change. If he gets back coins, he either tells the cashier to keep them, puts them in a tip jar if there’s one in sight, or just pours them into your coat pocket. He understands that its money, but he’ll be damned if he’s just got a sack full of nickels clanging around in his bag.

nsfw

He claims he doesn’t have a thing for exhibitionism, but with the way he’s down to fuck damn near anywhere, he might be a bold faced liar. Changing rooms, music festivals, airport bathrooms, the little corner of the multilevel parking lot that he’s oh-so-certain is in the blindspot of the security cameras... there are so few things off-limits with him.

Car sex on his bucket list… just not in his car lmfao (because trust and believe that’s something that already happens pretty regularly). Maybe his real kink is vandalism and destruction of property.

He is not above begging you to sit on his face. He will get on his knees and pant like a fucking dog for you to do it, he’s so serious. He’ll do it laying down, he’ll do it with you standing up/against a wall, he’ll do it on the couch. Break his neck please he’s fucking asking for it.

He doesn’t mind sharing and he definitely doesn’t mind watching. Honestly, he’d egg you on to kiss someone else at a party, or go as far as to seduce you into seducing someone else just so he can watch it go down.

PORCO sfw

He sends you iMessage games but only the ones he’s good at because he doesn’t like to lose. But also, if he is losing, he doesn’t want you to be supportive about it and tell him “it’s okay uwu” lmfao he wants to either cream you, or have you kick his ass; competition is the name of the game, don’t be soft on him.

He’s a morning person, and he likes going on runs or even just early-morning walks when the weather is nice. He will wake you up occasionally to join him—and if you’re a homebody, you will be joining him. He won’t be responsible for watching you decompose on the couch.

Very picky about his pizza. It’s not a calorie or grease or health thing—he just really fucking likes pizza, and he won’t excuse a bad slice.

Always pulls you closer to him in a crowd or when a group of people are walking by. He doesn’t have to, but he likes to. Tease him about it and he’ll push you right back tho, probably into a shrub if there’s one near by.

nsfw

He’s such a “No, no—answer the call” kind of mf; a sadist, if you will. He lives for torturing and embarrassing you, and that applies to sex, too.

Loves the way his hands look on you, particularly splaying his hand over your stomach when he’s fucking you. Likes the heat of your body against his, when he positions himself just right to feel the outline of his dick against you, and squeezing the sides of your tummy when he gets lost in it.

Loves blowjobs, and loves to cum on you or over your face. His favorite thing tho is pulling away just before he’s about to orgasm, and jacking himself off with your tongue sticking out, ready to swallow.

Okay with threesomes, too; but he wouldn’t like to do much to or with the third person. It’s okay if they touch you—maybe even fuck you, depending on who it is—but he’s not there to get them off.

LEVI

sfw

When he cooks dinner, he always makes sure to make enough for you to have leftovers to take with you for lunch the following day. Especially if it’s a dish you’ve been wanting or try, or specifically asked him to cook.

He’s got a specific tote bag he brings with him to the grocery store/farmer’s market, and separate one for when he’s running other light errands.

He hates soda, not even just because it’s not the healthiest thing to drink—he just doesn’t like the feel of carbonated drinks; the only exception being when they’re mixed with liquor, but even then, it’s not his preference.

After a while, he just starts lying and says you’re married at places where it benefits you both, or to curb a longer conversation about the status of your relationship to people who are inquiring. He thinks it’s fucking weird that marriage is what shuts people up, but if it works, it works; less people prying in your guys’ business.

He likes giving you forehead kisses, and if you do it back, he’ll learn that he doesn’t mind receiving them either.

He’s such a sucker for you rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand when you guys hold hands. He might not act like he notices, but he always does; and somewhat craves little touches like that the longer you guys are together.

nsfw

He would never admit it to anyone, but birthday sex is up there for his favorite kind of sex. He never cared much about his birthday… until he realized he could get that as a gift. He knows it’s not different, but he likes it, nonetheless; one the few times he doesn’t mind having all the attention on him.

King of aftercare, though some of his methods usually lead to another round—in which he teases you for cancelling out his work, when you know he was just as willing and eager.

He likes edging himself and overstimulating you; and with his self-control, that makes for a pretty dangerous combination.

He’s strong and he knows how to use it to his advantage: maneuvering you with a single arm, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand, pushing your head down into the sheets when he’s fucking you from behind.

Sex is one of the few times Levi doesn’t mind making a mess—and in fact, he likes it messy; watching you drip onto the sheets, making you spit on his dick and fucking your face until you drool. He always goes on about how sloppy you are, how you can’t keep anything clean, but he fucking loves it.

[mrskurono]

title: Baby Fever a/n: ok you know what I’ll admit it, all I’ve been thinking about lately is Geto. He’s on my mind constantly. Should I be working on something else, yes. Is Geto the first jjk character I really had a crush on, maybe. I just....fucking Geto ok this has taken me four times to right jfc word count: 1.7k tags: no sub/dom dynamics, romantic sex, established relationship, manga spoilers, fingering, multiple female orgasms (not overstim though) breeding kink, needy Geto, creampie, unprotected sex, pregnancy mention, body worship, really just soft sex ok, unedited character(s): Geto Suguru (jjk)

They had grown. 

Both girls that was. 

Into wonderful adolescences that brought a set of different challenges. Geto was ready for that be it blindly. And he loved every part of it times two. Each time he looked at either of the kids though he could vividly remembered rounder cheeks, rosier faces and goofier smiles. It left him reminiscing over that more and more now.

You noticed it in the most subtle ways. Geto wanting more. More of those days even though he wouldn’t outright ask.

A trace of his fingers along your collar bone drew you away from what was in your lap. For the most part you’d ignored him once he came to bed but it grew almost impossible when the sorcerer had his lips pressed to the conjunction of your head and neck while a light touch traced down your chest. Not irritated in the slightly, you still give a playful sigh as you put your book down.

“Can I help you?” You can’t even turn your head to see him. Geto’s face is pressed to you with a trail of peppered kisses following suit.

With a firm grip he slipped his fingers against your thigh to give it a playful squeeze. Geto pulled out of the crook of your neck enough to finally look at you with that off brand smirk of his, “Mayhaps.”

You grin just to lean down and catch his lips on yours. Instead though you pull away just as he was going to lean into you. Earning your own smirk to play on your lips, “Mayhaps if you ask nicely Mr. Suguru.”

The hand on your thigh tightened. Pulling you towards him in a meager attempt but for the most part you stayed rooted where you were. Only slightly letting your legs fall open as your smirk grew into a full blown smile. He was awfully soft for a man on the run orchestrating a death cult. 

Geto slipped his fingers up along the crotch of your bottoms. Nudging his forehead against yours like he’d done every night this week. An eye roll that held no merit you grab his face and kiss him deeply. There isn’t a second in hesitation as you lean into him. Geto’s fingers moving up to help you wiggle out of your bottoms. A similar scene playing out just like the previous nights but you didn’t mind in the slightest with his attention fully on you.

“You’re so wet.” He commented against your lips the second his index finger dipped between your folds.

“And you’re already hard.” You toss back to him when your palm presses up against the stark hardness hidden under his robes, “Why don’t we help each other out?”

A nod and he didn’t stop to push back into the kiss. Geto hovering above you but it was your teeth nipping playfully at his bottom lip. Leaving the man to groan as his fingertips danced on either side of your clit. Your hips coming up to join in the motion of his fingers rubbing against you. Only for a few moments though because once they were soaked enough Geto couldn’t keep them from slipping inside you.

“Fuck...you’re so needy,” You moan against Geto’s lips as he curls his fingers in on you. He wouldn’t hesitate to make you cum like this before the main event even started.

Lips back to your neck, Geto hummed something but then nodded and mumbled against the softness of your ear, “I need you.”

Reaching down to grip his forearm as Geto’s fingering picked up in it’s urgency. You regretted the moan when his fingertips brushed over your g-spot. Within seconds he was back at it. Not leaving your sensitive spot alone as your cunt twitched and tightened around him with the impending orgasm. He was gonna get one from you with not much more than a snide remark on your part.

“F-Fuck...” Lip taut with tension as you bit down, fighting it wasn’t in your best interest, “S-Suguru- I- I’m gonna-”

“Cum-” His voice almost desperate, hot breath against your neck, fingers not letting up on their assault, “Please cum- Please I need you to cum- Please-”

The want in his voice too much. Just the way he wouldn’t stop after your orgasm tipped itself over. Fingers pulling a toe curling orgasm out of you as you clutched onto his robes and felt every fiber in your body tingle with hopelessness for him.

Fingers slowing, Geto simply wiggling them around in you and feeling the slickness covering his knuckles. It was when you snagged him for a long drawn out lazy kiss. Just to follow it by an order that he get undressed already, meant the man had no choice but to listen.

Rid of his clothes and between your legs before you knew it. You look down to see him swiping his cock up through the drool of your cunt. What wasn’t on his fingers previously now coated his cock with a beautiful glisten. Geto more than enthralled seeing his cock slip between your cunt lips. Each movement of his length grinding into your sensitive nub sent a shiver up your spine. Either he was too into watching or he was teasing you. A few more swipes and you demand he get on with the main course already.

One push and Geto’s cock slipped down to the hilt with ease. Stretched thoroughly from the nightly fucking all week. Today was no different. Juices squelching around his cock Geto pushed himself down to his base. Feeling his cock bottom out in you no problem. Leaving the man to hover over you. Caged in by both his arms on either side of you. And his hair tickling your face when you looked up at him.

“You’re beautiful.”

“You’re handsome.”

Geto stalled a moment. Savoring the way his hips felt snug in yours. The residual feeling of your walls twitching around him. Not a day would go by where he didn’t swear you were made for him. 

“I love you.” His words clear and concise. You looked up at Geto once more.

What smirk you had early softened into a smile. Bringing his face down to yours for a kiss, “I love you t- fuck-” Before he let you finish Geto grinned against your lips and thrusted into you without warning. Just to watch you convulse and loose yourself on his cock. Just as beautiful as ever. He felt himself unable to control himself all over again.

Each snap of his hips into your core left you breathless. He wasn’t rough. Never was he rough. Geto’s cock curved in the right way that left you rolling your hips up to meet his thrusts. Even if it felt like he was going to split you in half, you still wanted more.

Orgasm or not Geto was bringing you right back to the edge. He always did. As you showered his face in breathless kisses. Some of those met with his own lips. Others spared on his neck and collar bone as you watched with a dazed look at where your bodies met. Geto buried inside you with each thrust. His hands hooked into your hips with your legs slightly elevated so he could defile your deepest parts. Every night this week he’d fuck you like this. In the drunken pleasurer of it all you might have thought he was trying to breed you.

“Please-” Geto’s voice peeled you away, “Please cum-”

Thinking he wanted you to cum on him again you half ass nod, “Yes- Fuck yes I’ll-”

“No-” He groaned more of a gasp. Geto putting his forehead against yours even with the dew accumulating on it, “Please- Please can I cum- Cum in you- I just-”

More than surprised. Of course he’d done so more than once before. Now he was asking you? 

“Love why ask just-”

“I want another baby-” Geto broke your question up, his hips still a mind of their own. His breath ragged against your lips and sweat making his hair cling to him, “With you- Another one- Just one- Let me fill you up- Let me fuck a baby in you- Please- I- I love you so much and-”

“Yes.”

Geto’s turn to be surprised.

“Yes please, god fuck yes- Fuck a baby inside me-” You grab Geto’s face. Caring less if you cum at this point and more for the warmth of his release. Lips smashing onto his you don’t hesitate to moan into the fevered kiss.

Geto pulling you down on him with each thrust. Driving his cock in you as deep as he could. Quicker than before like he was desperate for it. Even while your legs twitched and curled, knowing he was breeding in you, something snapped in you.

The way you can on him. Scream only muffled by the fact Geto wouldn’t move his lips from yours. Each rippling twitch of your cunt around him was maddening. Hearing and feeling you craving him sent him into a tizzy until it was simply too late. With the way he snapped his hips into. A rumbling moan emanating up from his chest. It was far too obvious when the first gush of warmth overwhelmed you.

Full well past just what oozed out of you. The mixture of cum and juices soaked the two of you as Geto’s arms waivered a little. A moment of uncertainty if he was going to pull out and waste the gift he just gave you. Instead you yank him down on you. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders and loosely with your legs around his hips. Making it very obvious he was to stay in place on and in you.

Hand drawn down his back you ignore the sweat between his shoulder blades. Instead engrossed in the feeling of Geto’s cock still inside you and the heat of his chest against yours. Sighing softly to lay a kiss against his cheek you hug him a little tighter, “...you could have just said something you know.”

Exhausted and without a real witty reply. Geto had been saving this all week and now he was a little spent. Mumbling something but you didn’t hear.

The idea of being pregnant, with his child, making you smile more and more with each passing second. Even as cum dripped out of you. It was right away that you kissed the side of his head, “Looks like we gotta keep trying until you succeed huh.”

No question to it there was a twitch of excitement in all of his body. You knew neither of you would be happy now until Geto got what he asked for.

[say-al0e]

See You When I See You

Rating: M | This is smut! No one under 18! Minors, DNI!

Summary: Your relationship with Ben was unconventional, at best. Stolen moments, scattered here and there, were all you could have. Still, that didn't stop either of you from wishing for more. Your next meeting wasn’t guaranteed so you made the most of what time you were given. | Ft. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you happy to see me?” + “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

Warnings: Unprotected p in v, yearning, pining, semi-forbidden love, mentions of war (set when the guys are active duty), inaccurate military/war references, unrealistic setting, sad Benny (yes that’s a warning). 

Pairing: Benny Miller x fem!Reader (described as shorter than Benny)

Word Count: 8.7k (it’s Benny, what do you expect?)

General Masterlist | General Taglist | Shameless Plug: Cowboy!Benny Masterlist

A/N: Listen to Jason Aldean’s ‘See You When I See You’ - that’s the vibe for this fic.

As many times as you’d been dropped in the middle of the desert, left to accomplish one task or another, the harsh sun never seemed any less jarring. It beat down onto your skin, seared the few bits of exposed flesh, and stung at the backs of your eyes as you glanced out at the base you’d grown far too familiar with.

The ache in your chest, the twist in your stomach, the tingling in the tips of your fingers - it all grew more intense, nauseating, the closer you drew to the set of soldiers stood ready to greet you. Despite that, however, you tried your best to school your features into a practiced look of neutrality as you climbed out of the jeep after a man who easily outranked everyone in the vicinity.

Though you’d been here before, spent more time here than you ever imagined you would, you never bothered to remember the names of the men in charge. It didn’t matter, they were redacted in your reports, anyway. Still, your companions - ever eager to busy themselves with pomp - puffed their chests and straightened their shoulders while you lingered behind them in the hope that you would remain unnoticed.

Immediately, they launched into an exchange of greetings - shook hands and dispensed surface-level pleasantries that you had no desire to return - while you found yourself scanning the area for any familiar faces. Even for a group of military men, it was early. Most of the men were either in the mess tent, scarfing down breakfast, or still preparing for the day but enough of them wandered around for you to remain hopeful.

Almost as if he’d been summoned by your thoughts, a familiar face adorned with salt and pepper stubble appeared in your field of vision. Warm brown eyes met yours, twinkling with an easy amusement you would readily admit you’d missed, and beckoned you away form your travel companions.

Some of the heaviness in your chest dissipated as you stepped closer to Santiago. The exhaustion you felt - a bone-deep weariness that came with traveling, with picking up the pieces and moving from one place to the next; again and again and again - was nearly forgotten as he whistled lowly and raised a brow at you.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” His expression shifted then, morphed in an exaggerated looking of straight-faced stoicism he’d been conditioned into wearing, as he took a moment to study you. You laughed, ice melting in your veins, and he broke. You warmed all over at the sight of his smile and tipped your head as he laughed. “Sunshine,” he greeted, lips curling into a shit-eating grin, “didn’t expect you back so soon. Thought they shipped your ass back stateside.”

The nickname - a misogynistic declaration hurled at you by Tom, one that stuck and you hated - made your nose wrinkle. Santiago snickered and you latched onto that amusement, eager to avoid the conversation of where you’d been. When you rolled your eyes, he grinned and opened his arms for an embrace. The flash of annoyance you felt disappeared as quickly as it warmed your heated skin and you easily sank into his embrace.

Santiago squeezed you tight, just once, and released you with a smile that made your chest ache. He knew why you were there - what your presence meant for him, for his brothers - but he still looked so glad to see you. Regardless, there was an expectant look in his eyes, buried beneath the fondness, and you glanced away.

Your backstop was Fort Bragg, stationed somewhere in North Carolina, and as far as Santiago was concerned, that was where you’d been since he last saw you three months ago. So, you nodded. “They did,” you confirmed. “But…” A brief pause, one you spent wondering how best to answer him without giving yourself up, before you gestured to the group of men you traveled with. “Here I am, I guess.”

If anyone knew what it was like to be in your position - given one assignment today, forced into another tomorrow; never certain what the future held, other than danger - it was the Delta men, Santiago included. He cut his eyes at the group himself and, though he was better than most at masking his feelings, you could see the shadow that crossed his face as he studied them.

That was to be expected - it was what you were trained to do, after all - and he seemed to realize that you caught his apprehension the moment he turned back to you. He raised a brow, all business, and let a soft frown curl his lips. “I take it this isn’t a social call.”

A scoff escaped before you could stop it and Santiago laughed wryly. He knew the answer, just as well as you did, but that didn’t help ease the guilt settling in the pit of your stomach.

“Is it ever?” You spared a glance at the general, a man whose presence seemed to make Santiago bristle each time they so much as occupied the same continent, and shook your head. “Delta will be debriefed in the morning,” you admitted quietly, unable to look him in the eye as you did. “That’s all I can tell you.” You paused them, took a moment to consider your position, before you added, “And even that’s probably too much.”

Santiago’s jaw clenched as he bit his tongue to keep himself in check. You were a friend, someone he trusted, but the people you worked for saw him as disposable - a problem to be solved, just in case he got too comfortable - and he was reminded of that fact as a man you both recognized brushed past. He nodded his greeting and Santiago followed suit, though you could see the uneasy set to his shoulders as he waited for the man to move out of earshot.

“Shit.” He laughed, though it rang hollow in your ears, and scrubbed a hand across his face. “Homeland’s here. Why didn’t you tell me it was a party?”

There was nothing you could say that would make the moment any easier - no reply you could give that would reassure him, not when he knew how this worked; likely better than you did. You sighed, lapsed into an uneasy silence as you bit your tongue, and would’ve wandered away were it not for the chatter of a group of men departing the mess tent distracting you. You spared them a glance - searching subconsciously, never on purpose, for a familiar head of dirty blonde hair.

Hope blossomed warm in your chest as you scanned the faces but was quickly replaced with a wave of cool reality, crushing you as you realized the soldier you were seeking wasn’t there. You would’ve never missed him, just as he would’ve never missed you, and Santiago, who was more observant than you liked, scoffed when you deflated. 

“Benny’s on patrol,” he informed you, gaze following the group as they set out to begin their day. You cut your eyes at him and this time, his laugh sounded far more genuine. “He’ll be back by the time you can slip away.”

A flash of embarrassment heated your skin as Santiago snickered. You hated how obvious you were, how easy it was for him to see right through you - to see how eager you were for just a glimpse of Ben Miller - but it did little to deter him as he rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t looking for Benny,” you declared, though it sounded half-hearted at best. A lie easily detected. Your eyes narrowed as you folded your arms over your chest. “Thanks for the update, though. Want to tell me where Fish and Will are, too?”

He made a noise, a hum of mock disappointment, and though it made your cheeks warm, you were glad to see the amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Not gonna ask about Tom, really try to sell it?” When you grimaced, unable to hide your disdain for the captain, Santiago laughed. “Yeah, alright. Keep lying to yourself, Sunshine. Maybe one day you’ll actually believe it.”

Santiago departed then, left without giving you a chance to respond, and shot you a wink and a grin over his shoulder. The look promised that news of your arrival would spread quickly and you heaved a heavy sigh as you took a moment to gather yourself.

A quick glance around reminded you of where you were, of what you were there to do. There was a job to be done, a fight to be won, and you couldn’t afford to be distracted - or be the distraction. Still, you could’t stop yourself from glancing over your shoulder, just to double check, as you trudged back to join the group.

Disappointment, bitter and crushing, filled your chest when there was no sight of Ben - despite the knowledge that he wouldn’t be there - so you tucked away your remaining hope, locked it tight in your chest just in case you never crossed paths.

That didn’t seem to matter much as the day passed in a blur of aching loneliness and yearning.

Most of your time was spent seated in an uncomfortable folding chair, arms crossed over your chest as you listened to men pick apart the same strategy you’d started seeing in your sleep. Your research was laid bare, files on each target held open on the table, and you tried your hardest to remain focused. Much of your job was done already - the hard part, anyway - but that mattered so little knowing you were that close to Ben. Knowing that he was only a few steps from where you sat, closer than he’d been in months, made it difficult to focus on anything else and the thought terrified you.

The power that he held over you made no sense - he managed to derail the meticulous planning you’d spent months on, distracted you from the mission you’d devoted countless sleepless nights to with little more than the promise of his presence - but you knew better than to give in to the flash of anger that warmed your chest.

You had so few moments with him, stolen away whenever you could get the chance, and you couldn’t bring yourself to spend even one of them angry.

By the time you were released, night had fallen and you’d cycled through the stages of denial a handful of times. You contributed little - though that was the norm for moments like this; too many of these men had a problem listening to you for you to waste your breath - and left first in search of Ben. You knew that you could find Santiago - or Frankie or Will - and one of them would tell you exactly where to find him. However, you’d gotten to know him well after the handful of visits you’d paid them and had an inkling of where he would be.

Just as you imagined you would, you found Ben in the small, makeshift gym with his hands taped and a song from a playlist you’d affectionately dubbed ‘trash rock’ masking the sound of his fists hitting the heavy bag. It had only been three months since the last time you saw him, far less time than usual, but you’d missed him - far more than you cared to admit.

There were a few more scars, a handful of bumps and bruises littering his skin, but little else had changed. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling as you watched him. He was beautiful, tall and solid and golden; he called you Sunshine - swore he meant it seriously, promised he saw you as bright and uplifting - but, if you were honest, he was the one who deserved the moniker.

Every opportunity you were given to observe him, to look at him without having to avert your eyes lest you draw too much attention, so many feelings hit you at once that you were left dizzy.

There was a softness, a fondness, a yearning for him that made your chest ache; you were close enough in age that you could’ve met organically, anywhere else in the world, and you knew without a shadow of a doubt that you would’ve been something. Friends, lovers, soulmates; Ben would’ve been part of your life in some way that meant more than this, more than a handful of stolen moments and hushed encounters. 

You wondered how he was when you were assigned elsewhere, when you made it back stateside for a handful of nights in your cold bed, and searched for updates even if you had little right - but a high enough security clearance - to do so. You missed him, missed his smile and face and playful passes of his hands across your skin.

Bitter regret, a stinging sadness that coated the back of your tongue and lingered heavy in your chest, made you wonder why you’d gotten yourself into this position in the first place. You weren’t supposed to be here - he should’ve never gotten close enough to know your name; sure as hell should never have gotten close enough to learn your taste - and there was no way for you to be anything more than your rushed, sporadic encounters.

Not here, not now.

Beneath that, though, a searing heat scorched all rational thought every time you saw him. He made your blood simmer with each sweep of his hungry eyes, set your skin alight with every press of his calloused fingers and brush of his usually otherwise occupied lips. He could make your knees weak without even trying and you found yourself chewing the inside of your cheek to keep from throwing yourself at him.

You sometimes wondered what it was about him that made you want to fall, barrel headfirst into the unknown with him and give a damn about the consequences later. Ben Miller made his way into your heart, buried himself deep, and seemed unwilling to move. But that was a dangerous line of thought.

Not here, not now; repeated until you believed it.

Ben knew you were there - you could tell the moment he stopped pulling his punches; started flexing his biceps, drawing attention to the corded muscle hidden beneath soft skin that always ran a few degrees too warm. Still, he gave you a few more moments of blissful observation.

He was generous in that way.

He wore a white t-shirt, soaked with sweat and easily showcasing the contours of his stomach. His shoulders shifted with every jab he threw, rolled beneath the fabric of his shirt and you had half a mind to whistle and jeer at him to take it off - he’d eat that up, grin as he stripped with an exaggerated wink - so you could see for yourself. His shorts, similar to your own, hung a little lower than they should have but you paid them little mind as you raked your eyes over his bare skin.

His presence never failed to set you on fire, dislodge your train of thought and send you barreling headfirst into a spiral of desire that could never be fully quenched, and he knew it, thrived off it.

“You just gonna stand there and stare like a creep or spar with me, Sunshine?”

It wouldn’t be the first time - and you always hoped it wouldn’t be the last - but, still, you scoffed at Ben’s playful taunt despite the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. You’d changed into a pair of training shorts and a t-shirt before stepping out in search of him for this very reason; Ben was as predictable as he was impulsive and you were nothing if not indulgent.

You raised a brow at him as he turned, blue eyes blazing with a heat that threatened to blister you from the inside, and stepped further into the small space. “You really think you can take me, Miller? You’re bigger but I’m lighter on my feet.”

Ben stood a head taller than you, cut an imposing figure that made him a prime specimen in the eyes of his superiors, but he never intimidated you. If anything, his size - sheer strength, brute force you’d seen on more than one occasion - fanned the flames of attraction. He’d tossed you around, picked you up with startling ease despite your skepticism, and had no qualms about manhandling you - so long as you consented; something you freely gave every time. It never failed to make your blood sing, boil with unfettered want, and Ben knew it.

He smirked, eyes narrowing playfully as he stepped away from the bag, and held up his hands. “Bring it on.”

Every muscle in his body seemed to coil, tighten, as he waited for you to step closer. He was a trap, loaded and ready to snap the moment you struck, but that only made the game that much better. You both pulled your punches - he’d seen you really spar with another soldier, one who’d been more of a misogynistic dick than Tom, just as you’d seen him fight his way through a sea of men out for his blood; you knew what the other was capable of and neither of you aimed to injure - but the few taps gave you both an excuse for the time you spent hidden away from everyone else.

You were always left to make the first move, forced to strike first, but you didn’t mind. There was an aggression beneath your fondness, an anger that you’d fallen for him out of everyone you could’ve fallen for instead, and he accepted those strikes readily. It was his act of repentance, his confirmation that he understood - that he felt the same.

The fight never lasted long, both of you bounced on the balls of your feet as you studied the other. His eyes, bright blue darkening with something hungry, tracked each step you made. You could feel the weight of his gaze settling on your skin and it made you feel alive, filled your veins with a rush of adrenaline and pushed you forward.

As you expected, after the first few hits landed - how did we get here?; why did you let me fall?; please catch me - Ben managed to dodge each jab you threw at him easily. His expression brightened with every move you made, eyes lit up with a warm desire that settled in your chest and compressed your lungs. He struggled to keep a straight face as you circled one another while he waited for you to move, laughed when you faked a lunge, and moved with you so easily that it felt as if you’d been doing this your entire lives.

You both broke a sweat, your chest began to heave and your lungs began to burn with exertion, and that was when Ben made his move. You lunged, pressed forward, and he sidestepped your advance. He caught you with an arm around your waist and stopped you in your tracks.

He trapped you in the steel cage of his arms easily, one hand splayed across your abdomen while the other curled around your hip. The searing heat of him, overwhelming in the oppressive atmosphere of the desert and obvious even through the fabric of your shirt, pulled a quiet sigh from your lips as he held you close. Your fight fizzled then, dissolved as he made a victorious noise, and you reveled in the feeling of Ben’s body pressed to yours once again.

You could feel every heave of his chest pressed to your back, every sharp exhale fanning across your heated skin, every flex of his fingers as he fought to keep from pressing them into your skin with enough pressure to bruise - no marks, no bruises, no slips of the tongue; those were the rules and Ben was good at following them, if it meant he got to have you like this again. 

More obvious than his searing touch, however, was the press of his cock - hard and straining against the material of his pants - to your hip. 

You raised an eyebrow, feigned surprise - despite knowing exactly how this would turn out from the start - and rocked your hips back. When Ben groaned, the sound low in his throat, you grinned. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you excited to see me?”

He laughed, the sound a low rumble you felt more than heard, and squeezed your hip. He pressed himself closer, allowed you to feel him more fully, and ducked his head to nose at the delicate skin just beneath your ear. “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he admitted easily, voice pitching lower as his breath fanned across your skin - sticky and warm in the stifling heat but in no way unwelcome. “Pope told me you were here as soon as I got back from patrol. Just been waiting to get you alone.”

That was no surprise. You knew that someone would disclose your presence sooner rather than later - Santiago, Frankie, Will, maybe even Tom, if he wanted to get under Ben’s skin - but you were surprised that he waited for you to find him. He’d sought you out before, waited for you in the shadows until he could steal you away for a moment alone. 

After your last visit, however, you could understand why he wasn’t keen on throwing himself to the wolves when you had a touch more freedom to come and go. Still, you couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “You weren’t gonna come find me?”

Ben groaned at the pout in your voice, breath shuddered as he tilted his head to nip at your jaw. He took a moment to gather himself before he scoffed. “You’re fucking with me, right? I don’t have a death wish,” he teased, as he loosened his grip enough for you to turn in his arms. “I’m not gonna interrupt meetings with people who could - and would - make me disappear. My hand’s been just fine the last few months. Figured I could tough it out a little longer.”

“My brave soldier,” you cooed. Your grin brightened when he rolled his eyes, beamed as he hauled you closer. The heat of his chest settled into yours, warm and solid as you lifted your hand to press your palm to his heart. He inhaled sharply at the contact, playful facade chipping at the corners as he reveled in the delicate touch, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep from kissing away the pinch between his brows. 

Deflection, your weapon of choice, and Ben knew it. Expected it, when you took a moment to search his eyes before raising a brow. “You’re afraid of a few little spec ops guys? Damn, Miller.” Try as you might, the jab was less convincing than you intended. It rang a touch hollow, though you knew Ben would be the only one who could tell. “You’re not as insane as I thought you were.”

The first time you met Ben, you hurled every insult under the sun at him - called him a reckless moron, a muscle-bound dickhead, an impulsive jackass - yelled until you couldn’t yell anymore, yelled until you collapsed with shaking knees and constricting lungs. He waited it out, sat with you in a dusty room as you sobbed, before he promised he’d get you back to base in one piece. When he did, got you back without so much as a scratch, he teased you relentlessly for your meltdown but, unlike the others, never seemed to mean it.

It was soft, the solid foundation of a relationship you no longer knew how to live without, and hoped you’d never have to.

Now, he took your teasing in stride - got as good as he gave - and rolled his eyes as he returned his hands to your hips. He ignored the quip, batted away your deflection with a raised brow of his own, and asked, “What’re you doin’ back here? Thought they were shippin’ you back stateside and sticking you on desk duty.”

The pair of you would always be at a disadvantage; you knew everything he did, had access to every mission report his unit filed (and the ones they didn’t), could figure out where in the world he was with a single call. But he could never know anything more than what your superiors shared.

Ben knew that, was reminded of it time and again when he tried to poke around - get an update on you from Santiago, from Will, from fucking Tom - and sighed as you diverted your gaze to glance over his shoulder at a set of weights. He nodded, tilted his head to glance up at the ceiling, before he laughed quietly. “Can’t tell me,” he answered, before you could. “I know. Just thought I’d ask. See if somethin’ changed.”

He paused then, tipped his head back down, and searched your face. You knew that he could read the apology you refused to utter aloud written clearly across your face, could see the way regret made you press your lips into a thin line - not regret at meeting him, never regret at meeting him, only regret that you met under these conditions; regret that you may never know one another elsewhere, as anything other than this - and as he studied you, you returned the gesture in kind.

There was an earnest look in his eyes - something sad glittering in the blue of his eyes that had no place cooling the warmth of him - and a set to his jaw that kept him from speaking as freely as he’d like. He knew that he could talk to you - could tell you things no one else got to hear - but this wasn’t the place, not the time.

Instead, he swallowed thickly, masked his disappointment with another soft laugh. A quick glance at the ground to gather himself before he lifted his eyes to yours. “Can you at least tell me how long you’re here?”

Despite the doubt - the bitter disappointment that this was all you could have, regret at having met someone like Ben when neither of you were in a position to do much about it - curling around your lungs like vines, forcing them to deflate, your mouth curved into a soft smirk. Ben could see right through it, could see you, but he said nothing. That was the deal; you didn’t dwell on what could be, if life was different, and you didn’t let the sadness linger.

You deflected, pushed past the soft ache blossoming in your chest, and he let you. Your eyes dipped to his mouth, traced his lips as you licked your own. “Long enough for you to fuck me.”

Ben followed where you led, trudged faithfully behind you with an eagerness that made your heart feel as if it would shatter in your chest, and moments like this were no exception. 

Like flipping a switch, the lingering melancholy disappeared and he smiled. Ben’s tongue darted out, dragged along his bottom lip, and took a moment you knew you didn’t have to appraise you. His gaze - heavy, starving after months of distance - raked your form. He lingered on your exposed legs, exhaled sharply - quietly, as if he hoped you wouldn’t notice - at the few new scars that littered your skin, before he shook his head.

Not here, not now.

“Was nice of you to get all dressed up for me.” It was meant to be teasing, a soft jab at the clothes you usually wore - civilian garb that he loved to pick apart, though his hands were always careful as he popped the buttons on your blouse - but there was a warmth in his eyes, shining through the burning desire, that hit you square in the chest.

It was soft, fond, and settled low in your belly as he dipped a calloused hand beneath the hem of your t-shirt. That fire, the one you felt that first night, burned brighter now; hotter, harder to control, and Ben seemed to realize that as he tugged you impossibly closer.

His hand caressed your heated skin, touch far too gentle for a moment like this - for a man like him, for a pair like you - but you couldn’t bring yourself to chide him. You could only lean into it and allow yourself this moment, however fleeting, as you returned the teasing smile Ben flashed.

“Figured we’d get in a good workout.” The reply was cloying, demure, and Ben scoffed playfully at the way you looked up at him from beneath your lashes. You were anything but demure - a force, he’d called you; a battering ram, others joked - but you liked to pretend for him, if only to see the pink dusting his cheeks as you teasingly raked your nails down the expanse of his chest.

He sucked in a shuddering breath at the sensation, blinked as if your touch ripped the reply from his mouth, derailed his train of thought and set him barreling down a new track. His mouth opened, shut, opened once more. “I-“ He cut himself off, declaration dying on the tip of his tongue before he could breathe it aloud, make it real.

But you knew what he was going to say.

I missed you.

It went unspoken, seen but never heard. You missed him, too, but there was no room for that; not here, not now. You both knew that. Still, you nodded. “I know.” Your assurance was soft, quiet, but Ben heard it. He took it for what it was worth and brightened just a little when you whispered, “Me, too.”

That was as close as you could get, as much as you could give. For now, it was enough.

Another flip of a switch and the fire in his eyes blazed again, burned so bright it threatened to consume you. The blunt press of his fingers to your skin made you sigh and he smiled - real, true, honest - at the noise. “C’mon,” he urged, thoughts back on track; focus back on the task at hand. “Gotta make you cum before someone notices you’re gone.”

“I saw Will and Pope heading for the staff,” you admitted, grinning as his hands bunched the fabric of your shirt. “Think they’re gonna try to buy us some time.”

You were a badly kept secret, one he wanted to share with the world, but settled for sharing with his brothers. He laughed quietly, made a face, but you could see the puff of his chest with the reminder that they knew - you were his, just as he was yours, even if neither of you could say it and he wanted them to know. 

“I’ll pay for it later,” he declared, wry smile twisting his mouth - undermined completely by the satisfied gleam in his eyes. “But, right now, I don’t care.”

Ben dipped his head then, sought your kiss to ground himself in the moment. His mouth slotted perfectly over yours, lips warm and slightly chapped from the desert air. Still, they felt familiar, comfortable, safe. It was a balm for the ache in your chest, a brief respite from the feelings that weighed so heavily on your shoulders, and you knew that this was as much for him as it was for you.

He kissed the way he lived, the way he fought; gave his all, pressed on without pause, and sank himself fully into you. You’d learned that he had an oral fixation, would be glad to spend hours exploring your body with eager swipes of his lips and teeth and tongue, but when there was no time, he settled for this instead. He broke kisses to speak, to ask questions and murmur praise, but his mouth almost always returned to yours. 

Fantasies were sometimes shared, giggled about between the press of his fingers to your heated skin and searing kisses, and if you gave him half a chance, he’d gladly allow you to sit on his face. There was no time, though, no real place to indulge in one another. Stolen moments were all you had so you tugged him closer and aimed to make the best of it.

His hands skated across your skin, warm and seeking as he busied himself with mapping each warm patch of stomach and hip he could reach. Yours drifted to his hair, fingers carding through sweat dampened strands, and he made a satisfied noise that shot straight to your core when you tugged.

Your time was limited, moments stolen, and you could never press for more, no matter how badly you wanted it. It was always a dangerous game, playing with fire, but neither of you could find it in yourselves to care as his hands dipped lower. He traced the band of your shorts with blistering fingers as his tongue licked at the seam of your mouth. He crowded you, towered over you in a way that reduced the rest of the world to a speck of dust, and grinned against your mouth when you canted your hips forward.

He took pity on you, knew that he was pushing his luck with every teasing scrape of his fingers across sensitive skin, and slipped his hand past the barrier of your thin panties. His fingers dragged through your folds and he groaned at the slick gathered between your thighs.

“Fuck, honey,” he hissed, words tumbling from his lips as he pressed his forehead to yours. “Sparring with me get you this wet?” 

There was a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he asked but you could see the need for validation beneath it. Every once in a while, when you knew he needed a touch more affection - a bit of an ego boost - you offered it to him on a silver platter. Your hands shifted from his hair to the back of his neck as you surged forward, tilted your head to nip at the hinge of his jaw, and admitted, “Looking at you got me this wet, Miller.” 

Ben stifled his moan with a bite to your shoulder, teeth pressed into the fabric of your t-shirt, and you would’ve laughed had he not shifted his hand then. “Sayin’ shit like that,” he began as two calloused fingers rolled over your clit with a practiced ease, “is a good way to get fucked, honey.”

A moan, quiet but desperate for more - always desperate for more - escaped your parted lips as his fingers worked you and Ben’s chest puffed in satisfaction. Still, you continued on. “’s why I said it,” you declared, though your voice shook as you pulled away enough to see his face. “One of us has to be the voice of reason, hurry this along.”

He rolled his eyes, feigning offense as he worked his fingers over your clit, continued moving them in circles and spreading slick. “Say that like we don’t have all the time in the world,” he teased, brow winging up as he tilted his head to watch your face. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, careful to keep your noise to a minimum, and Ben frowned. “You got somewhere else to be?”

“Fuck off.”

Ben laughed then but you knew he would do anything but. When the promise of spending a moment together was on the table - a moment together that involved this - Ben would never pass it up. You could see just how much he’d missed you, missed this, in his eyes as he studied you intently. Each pass of his fingers over your clit sent a shock down your spine, made you desperate for more, and he could see it.

His fingers dipped lower, then, smeared slick across your folds, and pressed insistently to your entrance. It was an awkward angle, made worse by the height difference, but neither of you really cared as you used the hand on the back of his neck to tug him back to your mouth.

He eagerly swallowed every noise you made, licked into your mouth and searched for bliss in the heat of your skin pressed to his. Still, it wasn’t enough.

It was never enough.

A whine echoed through the small space, escaped your mouth the moment Ben pulled away - ripped his mouth and hands from you, smeared slick across your lower belly when he tugged his hand free from your shorts - but it was short lived. He dragged you to the small folding chair in the corner, one that you could only pray would hold your combined weight, and sat heavily. His fingers wrapped around your wrists, tugged you onto his lap in one quick yank, and you laughed quietly as his hand cupped your cheek.

“Hi,” he breathed, eyes wide as he glanced up at your face. “Didn’t think this through,” he admitted as his gaze flicked to your shorts. “Wanna take those off?”

Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Ben - sweet, impulsive, strong, Ben - was a soldier. It was easy to forget where you were, what you were doing there, what you were doing to him, but that made remembering all the harder. But that did little to quell your aching desire as you shifted, removed yourself from his lap and shimmied out of your shorts.

He whistled lowly, eyes roving your exposed skin, and clicked his tongue. “As many times as we’ve done this,” he began as he reached out with searching fingers, desperate to tug you back to his lap, “I’ve never seen you totally naked. Always too dark or rushed.”

“Oh,” you hummed, faux surprising coloring your voice as his fingers snapped the band of your panties. “You mean you’ve never seen my tattoos?”

Ben groaned, low in his throat, and tipped his head back as his hands smoothed over the expanse of your thigh. “I know you’re fuckin’ with me, but shit,” he laughed, eyes searching yours for any hint of deceit. “You’re already hot. Tattoos would make you untouchable.”

A quiet laugh echoed around you before you leaned in to ghost your lips over his. “Focus, Benny,” you implored, “fuck me and maybe we’ll live to actually see each other totally naked.”

He didn’t need to be told again.

Ben shifted, jostled you on his lap and nudged the cotton of your panties to the side. He shifted, lifted his hips to tug his own shorts down just enough to free his cock, and grinned when you moaned quietly at the sight. He dragged the leaking head of his cock through your folds, smeared your slick across his aching shaft, and huffed a breathless laugh when you moaned at the feeling of his tip bumping your clit. “Wish I could take my time with you,” he admitted, voice tight as he notched the tip at your entrance. “Wanna see you fall apart for me, honey.”

You wished for the same, wished you could spend hours at a time with Ben between your thighs or lounging in your bed. Wished you could sink to your knees, spending long moments teasing him with kitten licks and cloying smiles. Wished you could explore one another’s skin, map his body with lips and tongue and fingers.

Not here, not now.

Ben’s eyes lifted to yours, searched for confirmation that you wanted this, and inhaled deeply when you nodded. A heavy push, a lift of your hips, and gravity worked you down steadily. When he bottomed out, he released a heavy exhale that fanned across your heated skin. 

“You feel better every time,” he praised, mouthing at your pulse point. “Fuck, your pussy’s magic, honey.”

Another laugh escaped you, breathless and punched out, but it still made you glad to know that Ben enjoyed this as much as you did. His touch set you alight, blistered your skin from the inside out, and you were grateful to feel it once more.

The press of him inside you was always perfectly filling, snug but comfortable, and the slight pinch you felt as you took a moment to adjust was a necessary reminder of where you were. As desperate as you both were for forever, you were forced to settle for that moment.

Though Ben fucked you as if you had no time, gradually built a pace that had you bouncing on his lap - neither of you paying the creaking of the chair any mind - there was a tenderness to his touch. He kept you close, chest pressed to yours and mouth constantly exploring your blistering skin, as he filled you so completely.

His sounds, punched out breaths and deep moans - little whispers of your name, murmurs of quiet praise, pussy-drunk babble that bypassed his brain in a stream of consciousness - echoed in your ear and played on a loop. Hearing him fall apart, so desperate to feel you, made your own end barrel forward like a train. 

When he started speaking, it seemed as if he couldn’t stop. His hands skated across your skin, never quite settling in one place, just as his mouth kept moving; never settling on one stream of consciousness. But nothing seemed to matter as he pressed into you, deeper and deeper and deeper, still. You were certain he could feel the beat of your heart, pulsing and racing and cracking in your chest, as you tipped your head back to look at him.

He kept his eyes on you, eager to watch you fall apart for him - desperate to commit the moment to memory - and it was hard to keep the tears at bay as his grip on your hips grew that much tighter. He never wanted to let go of you, wanted to sear his fingerprints into your skin as a reminder for anyone who dared to come after him - you were beginning to think that no one would, no one could measure up, but that was a dangerous line of thinking that you couldn’t afford to get caught up in.

Ben continued to push you higher, pressed into you with everything he had to give, and moaned desperately when you clenched around him. Your end triggered his own, pulled a keening sound straight from his chest that had you surging forward to seal your mouth over his. You swallowed his moans easily, readily, and continued rocking your hips as he seemed to spill endlessly inside you.

His hands on your hips pulled and pushed, kept you grinding against him - the brush of hair around his cock catching on your clit, the pinch of his fingers on your hips, the sting of his teeth at your lips - and you shivered with the overstimulation. But Ben was still half-hard and you wanted to laugh.

When he finally pulled away, felt as if he could be trusted not to broadcast your exploits to the entire camp, Ben glanced up at you with hazy eyes.

“Don’t wanna pull out.” He laughed quietly, the sound breathless as his head fell forward to press to your shoulder, and you lifted your hand to his hair. You raked your fingers through the sweat darkened strands and laughed softly as he continued, “Feel like fuckin’ heaven, honey.”

The first time you slept together, he blurted out every thought that crossed his mind and you joked that he’d gone too long without sex, that he’d gone pussy dumb. Now, you knew that it was just who he was. He spoke freely with you, even when he shouldn’t have, and hearing him utter enthusiastic praise constricted your lungs. Catching your breath grew harder, felt nearly impossible - even more so than it already was, with Ben still pressed so fucking deep inside - but you pressed on.

One, two, three, in; one, two, three, out.

“Can’t pretend we were just sparring if they catch us like this.” Your tone was teasing, light, but Ben knew how to read you. He took it for what it was - a reminder of where you were, who lingered just outside - and huffed as he prepared to pull out.

“One day,” he began, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it, “I’ll get to take my time with you. Stay in bed all day, make you cum as many times as you’ll let me. Then we could go to some dive; get shitty, greasy food and just…”

He trailed off, stopped himself before he could finish his thought - though you knew him well enough to know that he intended to declare that you could just be happy, well-fucked and well-fed and fucking happy - and you were grateful that he had the sense to stop before he could say something damning.

No reply you could offer would be enough. The future wasn’t guaranteed for either of you, neither was your chance of seeing one another again, but he didn’t need to be reminded of that fact any more than you did. Ben knew, understood, but chose to hope. He held onto it tight, wore it like a badge of honor, and there was no doubt in your mind that that was what drew you to him in the first place.

Ben was sunshine - bright and warm but more dangerous the closer you got. 

Silence fell as he pulled away from you, broken only by the soft noises of displeasure you both made. You righted your clothes as you spared sidelong glances at one another, both wishing for the strength to pretend. You almost wished you could go back to the beginning, set a boundary that you would try (and likely fail) to keep in place, but you could never bring yourself to regret any moment of your time with Ben.

It was difficult, messy and heartbreaking, but you were better for having had even a moment of his time, a touch of his affection. And no amount of teasing, no amount of banter, could change the fact that you’d both fallen so fucking hard, so fucking fast. The damage was done, irreparable, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything other than reach out and pull him into one last kiss.

“Something to remember me by,” you breathed, mouth hovering dangerously close to his as your fingers threaded in his hair. 

Still, that wasn’t enough. He pressed a heavy palm to the small of your back, tugged you in impossibly close, and captured your mouth in a bruising kiss. He poured everything he had to give into the act, shared every feeling he promised he wouldn’t speak aloud, and it stole the breath from your lungs as you gripped his biceps and held him close. 

I missed you, I don’t want you to leave, take me with you, come back to me.

Tears stung at the backs of your eyes, turned them glassy and soft, and Ben hadn’t fared much better. When you pulled away, he lifted a hand to your cheek, brushed a thumb over the slope, before he offered the ghost of a smile. “Stay out of trouble, Sunshine.”

You rolled your eyes at the soft tease and shook your head as best as you could. “I’m the one that should be telling you that, Miller.”

He raised a brow, feigned a playful offense that made you smile, and asked, “What kinda trouble can I get into over here? They tell me to jump, I ask how high.” His expression soured then, turned solemn, and you bit your tongue to keep from sighing. “How high am I gonna have to jump tomorrow?”

“Please don’t,” you whispered, voice breaking slightly as you tipped your head to avoid his knowing gaze. “Not right now. Not after…”

Ben swallowed thickly, you watched his throat bob as he reminded himself you weren’t the enemy - though, if you really thought about it, maybe you were; you came, fucked him, and left when it was time for him to fight. “I know,” he sighed, voice pitching lower as he nodded. “I know.” Another heavy pause, laden with the heaviness you both felt, passed before Ben nodded. “Guess this is it, then. Have a safe flight home, Sunshine.”

It was your turn to swallow as you watched him turn for the exit. You scrubbed your eyes, blinked back your tears, and spoke before you could really think about it. 

“Hey, Miller?” You weren’t sure what you wanted to say, just that you weren’t ready for him to leave. As expected, Ben’s steps faltered, stopped, as he turned to face you with lifted brows. There was a lingering sadness dimming his eyes and you took a moment to gather yourself, tried to right your train of thought even as you sank under the weight of his gaze. His jaw ticked as he swallowed, searched your face with a desperation that made you want to look away. Instead, you offered him a soft smile. “Don’t die, alright?”

A look you’d never seen before flashed in his eyes; a searing warmth, a desperate ache. He chuckled softly as he folded his arms over his chest. He swallowed once more - throat bobbed with the effort of it - and ducked his head, before his lips curled into a smile. “Gettin’ sweet on me, honey?”

Deflection, tried and true; your shared favorite weapon.

You shook your head, though you both knew it was an exercise in futility. “No.” Despite the teasing, the desperate attempts to keep him at arm’s length, you’d been sweet on him the entire time. You knew that he could see it - knew that everyone else around you could see it, even if they pretended not to - just as you knew it was reciprocated.

Not here, not now.

Instead of reminding him of that fact, you rolled your eyes and wrapped your arms around yourself - desperate to hold yourself together as he prepared to head off into the unknown. “Just don’t wanna deal with the paperwork,” you scoffed. “Burying your ass would be a bitch.”

He expected that, that much you could tell, and laughed easily as he nodded. “Yeah, I’ll keep that in mind.” He paused for a moment, eyed you once more - let himself commit you, this moment, to memory - before a sincere smile brightened his features. “You can’t get rid of me that easy,” he promised and your skin heated with the conviction in his voice - he planned on making it back in one piece, planned on seeing you again, and you were glad. “Millers never say die.”

There was never any guarantee and it was never that simple. Ben was good - so were his brothers - but you knew that wasn’t always enough. In that moment, however, you didn’t allow yourself to dwell. So, you nodded, a barely there tip of your head, and cast your eyes to the ground. “See you when I see you, Benny.”

It was difficult to know if you’d ever see one another again, despite how desperate you both were for the opportunity, but neither wanted your parting words to be goodbye. It felt too real, too permanent; speaking it aloud might make it true, might encourage the universe to keep you apart indefinitely.

Ben waited for you to look at him. When you did, his expression softened, shoulders sagged under the weight of your farewell, and he nodded. He took a deep breath, prayed you couldn’t hear it shake, and returned, “See you when I see you, honey.”

‘I hope it’s someday soon,’ lingered in the air, unspoken but deeply felt. You let it hang for a moment, blinked back traitorous tears that pricked at the backs of your eyes, before you lifted your head to meet his eyes once more. Another moment passed before he turned to leave.

He paused to steel himself - lifted his shoulders, tipped his head, exhaled heavily as he shook his hands by his sides - before he stepped back into the real world and left you in silence. You stared after him with unfocused eyes, unseeing as you tethered yourself back to the moment. There was a job to be done, a reason that you’d been dropped back into the desert, and the sooner you finished your assignment, the sooner you’d be assigned another. Then another, and then another; on and on the cycle went until one day, you’d get to see Ben again.

You just hoped it would be someday soon.

____________________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I started it, it got out of hand, now I present it to you. Enjoy.

Tag List: @peoniarose, @karie-me-home, @rachelwritestuff, @stardust-galaxies, @deliciouslydisturbed365, @a-louise-juliane, @ben-is-a-hoe, @weasleywinchester, @crowfootwrites​, @winchestershiresauce​, @kesskirata​​, @lyr1ssa, @viyasstuff, @negansnympho89​, @im-just-a-mississippi-girl​,  @kirsteng42​, @balekanemohafe​, @avengers-fixation​, @buckybarneshairpullingkink​, @nintendhoe8​, @luciferiorbxtch​, @jettia​, @xoxabs88xox​

[silversatoru]

step-dad nanami + brat taming 😼?

dark content event!!!

yes yes yes yes yes yes yesyyesysyesy mmm so good mm very tasty idea ily and i got very carried away

nanami + brat taming

tw: nsfw 18+, f!reader, psuedocest (nanami is your step-dad), brat-taming, noncon/dubcon, impact play, power imbalance, mild size kink?, manhandling, fingering, nanami said fuck jujutsu and is a very rich business man au

wc: 1.7k

you knew your mother’s new fiancé was a moderately successful business man, but you certainly weren’t expecting to pull up to a security gate on the day that you moved in with him. a large house constructed with dark-colored bricks loomed over your mom’s dented toyota prius, and you wondered what the hell one lonely man needed all this space for.

the white-haired butler that opened the front door and offered to carry some of your bags seemed nice enough, but you couldn’t help but scoff at the entire situation. walking onto the pristine and shiny floors in your scuffed up sneakers made you wonder just how your mom had managed to gold-dig her way into this one. either she was terribly convincing, or this guy was horribly desperate — either way you weren’t opposed to reaping the benefits. a butler, a giant in-ground pool, a bedroom that was three times the size of your old one?

yeah, you’d settle in real quick.

and you did just that, taking whatever you wanted and not feeling a shred of guilt for it. this guy, nanami kento, had more than enough money to go around, so why shouldn’t you indulge yourself? why shouldn’t you throw unsolicited pool parties while they’re at work? invite boys over to spend time in your king sized bed? your mom forced you out of your hometown to move in with this rich asshole, might as well make the most of it.

and things were going pretty fucking smoothly if you do say so yourself, or at least they were until nanami caught you sneaking a boy through your window one night.

you thought your were so smart, so slick with the way that you used his house as your personal playground behind his back. but why would he own such an esteemed property and not have security cameras? you weren’t smart at all, in fact you were incredibly, incredibly stupid.

and you’ve been getting on nanami’s nerves for a while, sashaying around the house in tiny outfits surrounded by a horde of immature boys. he’d watch you through the security footage while he worked — blood boiling at the way you flaunted his home as if it were your own.

those boys were never going to be enough for you; you’d walk all over them with your inflated ego and terrible attitude. you needed a man, someone grown, who could put your back in your place — you needed nanami — and fuck, he’d wanted you since the day you walked through his front door. he’d been patient, very patient, but this was enough to snap the thin wire that was holding him back.

he didn’t hesitate to kick the boy right back out the window he climbed through, threatening to call the cops if he didn’t leave his fucking property right now. and then a firm hand was wrapped around your wrist, dragging you up the stairs and into his bedroom.

he gave your arm a harsh tug, tossing your body towards his large neatly made bed. the edge of the raised mattress whacked you in the gut, your face falling forward and mashing into the silky comforter.

“what the fu-,” you snapped your head back to look at him, but were immediately met with a rolled up black sock being shoved into the back of your mouth.

you coughed and whined through the fabric as he grasped both your wrists in his one large hand, his other weaving the leather belt that was previously looped through his trousers around your wrists. he had zero patience for you right now, and he was making that evidently clear.

“i’ve tried to stay patient with you, but you’ve forced my hand this time,” he looked at you with dark eyes, one of his hands undoing the zipper at the back of your skirt.

you tried to kick with your legs, tried to cuss him out through the sock, but it was entirely ineffective, his strong hands holding you down and the cotton preventing a single coherent word from leaving your lips. your skirt was gliding to your feet now, your bare ass exposed and looking nanami right in the eyes.

“sneaking in another boy? how many times should i spank you for that? five? ten? i think ten would be suitable in this situation,” he used one hand to keep you pinned to the mattress, and the other to caress the smooth skin of your upper thigh, “what do you think?”

obviously you tried to reason with him, tell him that you didn’t deserve any spanks, that you weren’t a child, that this whole thing was fucking weird — but none of that made it out of your mouth, not through the soggy sock that was still in your way.

“i’m glad you agree, ten it is,” he gave you a thoughtful look, raising up his hand in preparation to strike you for the first time.

“one”.

his hand swung down with incredible force, a piercing smacking sound echoing through the room as you squealed and kicked under his touch. it felt like a thousand pins piercing through your skin, a blazing fire that burned through his fingers and straight through to your brain.

“two”.

the second smack was brought down with even more strength, your whole body lurching in response to the impact. you still kicked, still fought, still screamed through gag for him to fuck off, but a small part of you was already anticipating number three.

“three”.

the third strike to your backside flipped a switch in your brain, your legs falling limp and your screams replaced with pitiful whimpers and whines. his hand on your skin was starting to hurt so good, bits of the sock becoming trapped in your clenched teeth.

four, five, and six came quickly after, only a few seconds of rest between each of them — and nanami knew that he’d won when your feet began to push up onto your tip-toes, your ass wiggling closer to him as you waited for more.

“you count the next ones,” he reached forward and plucked the disgusting sock out of your mouth, tossing it to the floor and caressing your cheek.

seven came down hard, goosebumps lining your arms as you yelped; your tied up hands grasping at air. a shameful “seven”, rolled from your tongue a few moments later, your shaky voice flooding nanami’s ears.

“good girl,” he cooed, “three more”.

the next three stung the worst, nanami hissing at how badly it hurt his own hand — but your were a lightheaded, dizzy mess; practically drooling on his sheets by the time he was done. you’d done exactly what he asked, taken all ten and even counted out the last four — you were so good for him, and it was so easy.

he helped you roll over onto your back and then slipped his hand under the waistband of your panties, pulling and letting them fall down to your ankles. you’d taken the punishment pretty well, so it was only fair that you were rewarded now.

he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, one of his hands pressing down onto your puffy clit. you knew how inappropriate this was all becoming, but your head was much too hazy to care.

he dipped two of his fingers low, slipping them into your slimy cunt and gently pushing them up inside you. his fingers were long, a sharp whimper flying through your teeth as he curled his fingers against your walls.

what the hell would happen if your mom got home right now? if she saw her soon-to-be husband fist-deep in her daughter?

those were the things you should have been thinking, but they didn’t cross your mind once. how could you care about the what if’s when nanami was stuffing you full with his thick fingers on one hand, and expertly massaging your clit with the other.

no one your age had this experience, and none of the boys you’d messed with had ever made you feel this good with such little effort. nanami was opening your eyes to his expert hands, and you began to wonder how many sorry brats had ended up in this exact spot before. maybe this is what he did for fun — romancing middle-aged women just to prey on their college-aged daughters until they inevitably get caught one day — and then the cycle continues.

but right now, on the edge of losing yourself around his fingers, you didn’t care if you were the hundredth step-daughter he’d done this to — it was worth it.

your walls clamped around his fingers as he thrusted them deeper, his other thumb rubbing hard and consistent circles over your sensitive nub. it was impossible to hold out any longer, the ball in your stomach flying undone as you rolled your hips into his hand and creamed all over his fingers. the room was filled with the prettiest mewls and whines, your body shaking and lurching as he kept feeling you even after your orgasm was fading.

only once you accidentally kicked him from the intensity of the overstimulation did he unsheath his fingers from your cunt, his skin glistening with your fluids. he shoved them into your mouth, your eyes widening as he offered a simple: “suck”.

but you did what you were told, you’d quickly learned that disobeying him would only lead to something worse. he smirked for the first time after he plucked them from your mouth, your lips making a satisfying popping sound.

“never gonna invite those boys over again, right?” he taunted you, an obvious bulge sitting in his dress pants.

you quickly shook your head no.

but if breaking the rules meant this would happen again?

you’d be breaking them every goddamn day.

[vulgar-display-of-escapism]

Chibs Telford NSFW Alphabet Part 1

Let me just preface this by saying that I'm hitting a major self-doubt about my ability to actually finish this thing. So I figure I either post little by little or not at all.

WARNING: Not your usual ABCs, it's filthy down here.

Trigger warning: CNC. | Chibs's got dirty mouth.

Reader discretion is advised.

Recomended Soundtrack: Bad Things by Jace Everett | Dream On by Depeche Mode | I Like it Heavy by Halestorm | Savages by Royal Deluxe | Don’t Let Go by En Vogue | Love, Hate, Sex, Pain by Godsmack

A ~&~ Appetite

While Filip says he’s a grown-ass man and as such he is all about quality over quantity, you have yet to see the day your man would pass up an opportunity to get naked with you. ‘Don’t tease me, Pet. I’ve got to be at the clubhouse in 10 minutes.’ ‘The ride to TM takes you only 4 minutes, and that’s if you don’t run any red lights.’ ‘Brat.’ ‘Whatcha gonna do about it?’

He pounced.

So predictable.

~&~ Aftercare

Don’t get it twisted, girl. Sex with Chibs is no garden variety shag. The man plays rough, south of kinky and lives for that shit. That said, his post-coital ritual is a religion to him and you are the alter he worships on. After the scene is over and he’s done wrecking your body in the most savage and merciless ways, you’d better believe he will take care of both your body and your mind. ~~ You were a trembling, tear-streaked, breathless, and sweaty mess, but even in that fuzzy state between subspace and consciousness you couldn’t help but smirk a little. Your lover was just as wrecked as you were. His skin was glistening with sweat, goatee covered in the mixture of your juices and saliva and he was still fighting to catch half a breath. As soon as he did though, the magic would start flowing from that glorious mouth of his. ‘You’re a goddess,’ he finally rasped, reaching for your hand. As he started gently massaging your wrist, he asked, ‘Are ye alright, luv?’With that he brought your hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on the inside of your palm. With the kind of reverence reserved just for you, he’d murmur against your skin, ‘I respect you, you know that, right? No matter how rough I play with you, you’re always safe with me. Always.’ You wanted to correct him “how we play”, but you chose to stay silent. This time. As smart as your man was, he needed reminding that you were not a plaything but a consenting adult fully capable of using your safe word if you ever felt you needed it. But tonight you let that go, you had no energy to form words right now. Especially as his hands were traveling down the sides of your body, soothing all the places where finger-shaped bruises were starting to form. Soon, Chibs’ mouth followed the same path as his hands had. You were pulled out of your bliss, by Filip’s hand on your stomach, ‘Didn’t hear me, did ya, Pet?’ ‘Mhmm.’ ‘You will be sore tomorrow.’ ‘I’m sore now.’ ‘Sorry, luv.’ It was your turn to chuckle, ‘no, you’re not.’ ‘Let me make it up to you with a nice, hot bath?’ ‘Only if you carry me to the bathroom.’ ‘Don’t I always?’, he replied with a wink before getting up and padding to the bathroom. ‘You do… Still not calling you daddy, though.’ You shouted playfully when he was out of sight. ‘Baby steps, my love, baby steps’

B ~&~ Boobs vs Butts If Chibs were to pick just one part of your body that did things to him, it would be the part with the most power to distract him - that mouth of yours. Always. From the way you lick your bottom lip after you’ve taken that first sip of coffee in the morning to the little pout, put on for show, when you are being a brat and sass him. And especially, especially - when he looks down at you - when you lick your lips right before you dart your tongue out to tease the tip of his cock. And Christ, both of those lips wrapped around his thick shaft as your try your best to take all of him deep. You’ll never succeed, he knows, but bless your heart, watching you try always makes him, well, harder. Your neck is another kind of aphrodisiac. The sight of your throat giving him one hell of a mental whiplash nearly every time. From the Crow tattoo running from just below your right ear to the faded scar across your throat, the crow’s outstretched wing caressing the old slash mark. The possessive surge he feels, it’s a shallow thing. He knows that, but all the same seeing that mark of ownership, HIS mark, displayed for everyone to see and right next to the remainder of what almost killed you - that gave him pride. You were still standing and you belonged to him. He was a sick fuck, so what…. he was well aware. On him, the choice is an obvious one - his hands.. He was capable of drawing out so many different reactions from your body with just those.

From the little shivers running down your spine when he glides his ringed fingers along your arm, in the most innocent of touches, while you’d be sitting in his lap during a party.

The way his gloved hand caressed the inside of your bare thigh, just above your knee, when he stopped at the red lights on the way home.

And how you always, driven by instinct, leaned forward into his grip whenever his fingers curled around your throat, whenever he reached for you to kiss you, not caring where you were or who saw that unmistakable sign of your submission and, with it, trust.

“That’s my needy little Pet” He’d murmur when you were shamelessly riding his hand, heavy, ridged rings and all, while he had you bent over his lap, your panties around you calves with your ass in the air.

Seeing the imprints of his palm on your ass cheeks the next morning when you walk around the house in just a tiny thong and a crop top.

His hands gripping your wrists and holding them tightly at the small of your back as he’s thrusting his cock so fucking deep into you, making your whole body jerk just how he loves it. Aye, Filip definitely loved his hands.

C ~&~ Cum On your face. And he’s so damn cocky about loving it. ‘There ya go, lass. Such a proper lady out there. But in here, in my bed, getting sprayed in the face and loving every drop of it.’ That Mean Streak Smirk of his you loved so much is never more prominent in the bedroom than when he looks at your face and chest covered in his seed. And damn, if that isn’t a whole different level of a power trip to you. You watch his eyes catch fire again as you coat your finger and pop it into your mouth with a smirk of your own. ‘So, now what?’ ‘We’re just getting started, Pet’

D ~&~ Dirty Talk Between the rugged quality of his voice and that Daddy’s Little Helper of an accent the man could be reciting transcripts from Charming’s Council meetings to you and you’d still be a quivering, drenched mess. Thankfully, his repertoire is both more vast and much more… engaging. And here’s the thing, before some clever deity put Filip Freaky Telford smack dab in your sexually uneventful path, you’d never, ever, even consider letting a man talk to you like that. And the mere suggestion that you’d love it, pffff no way. Yet here you were. Ruining yet another pair of perfectly good underwear, all because your Old Man was flexing his Natural Born Dom Energy in the middle of a SAMCRO party.“You seem to think you’re the one running this show, sweetheart. Let me help ya, you are not.” Ok, so maybe you were teasing him a little by playing pool with Tig, oh well.

But when His Darker Side came out to play, when the two of you were ‘kinking out’ {Juice should not be allowed to coin any sex-related terms, ever}, it was like participating in a primal religion ceremony. Only you were the sacrifice:

‘I could tear you apart, if I chose to, I hope you know that.’

If you pretend to struggle out of his iron-like grip “Oh, please do struggle. Makes your pussy grip my cock harder”

When you whimper helplessly as he’s pounding into you from behind and you can’t speak because his fingers are shoved down your throat: “Oh sorry,Pet. You wanted to say something? Is Daddy in too deep in your tight little pussy?”

~&~ Dirty Secret He absolutely fuckin’ treasures the knowledge that not only you are his, but you allow him the privilege of seeing the submissive part of you. The part that the rest of the world never gets to see, has no business of seeing. Out there in the real world, you are a fierce and independent career she-wolf who will not hesitate to stomp {Figuratively, of course; you’re lady-like like that.} any fool who dares to cross you. But behind closed doors, you choose to hand the reigns to him. The too-old-for-you, dirty criminal with one hell of a mean streak and a rap sheet reflecting that. And yet, for some twist of faith warped reason, you decided that he was worthy of your trust and love. Fuck him but knowing that he’s the only man on the fucking planet who gets to flip your switch, man, that is the greatest feeling in the world.

~&~ Experience

You don’t get to be a high-ranking player in a big, bad outlaw world by being clueless. Chibs’ been an active kinkster ever since Fiona first tied him up, back when he was still a young, God-fearing laddie. He knows what’s what. Among that vast portfolio of knowledge lies a deeper understanding that working smarter beats working harder. Hence, the spreader bar and the restraints. Daddy’s little helpers on the way to make his Good Girl feel loved and appreciated. Deeply and Repeatedly.

F ~&~ Foreplay Some tough men, some outlaws, check in their bad boy demeanor at the bedroom door. Not Chibs. He dials his up a notch. Or five. But whether it will be Filip and his smart-mouthed Brat fucking each other’s brains out, or Chibs’ Sinister Side playing with his victim … all depends on whether Sin has been explicitly invited. He’s kind of like a vampire that way… {TBC}

[nekomamiiz]

cute little bunny

pairing: deku x fem!reader

wc: 1.6k

warnings: all characters aged up 18+, quirkless au?, not technically public sex ... but, gym setting, oral (m. receiving), kinda scumbag!izuku?, 'bunny' as nickname, deep-throat, degradation, praise, dacryphilia, slight scent kink, lots of spit, rly messy, cum eating/play (facial), edited? beta? def. not, please lmk if i missed one

a/n: hi loves !! this is my entry for @rat-zuki 's collab. pls pls check out the event masterlist to see the other lovely authors/artists participating. i was way busier than i thought the last month or so and i sincerely apologize for my creativity just not being the best rn but i hope you guys enjoy :) happy birthday deku ♡

You shouldn’t even be here. It’s not like you enjoy it either, it stinks, and it’s way too bright. There's also some shitty music playing that's starting to give you a headache. The only thing that makes your time worthwhile is watching the tall green-haired man that’s using the squat rack in front of you—giving you the most delicious view of his ass.

Honestly, you don’t even care that he's squatting more than five hundred pounds. Your eyes stay glued to the flesh of his thighs—thick muscle straining and relaxing after every rep, further accentuating his bubble butt.

You’ve grown addicted to just watching him. The sweat is dripping down his back, clinging to his shirt. His breathing is focused, and you definitely don’t miss the soft grunt or groan he lets out when he lifts back up. Or how his perfect face twists in concentration.

What you don’t realize, though, is that he sees your eyes lingering for far longer than any respectful person should. And your gaze trails low, falling right at the waistband of his sweat shorts.

He thinks you look so cute in your little gym outfit too. Every time he sees you, the pieces get smaller and tighter, leaving nothing unimagined about the shape underneath it all—just the feeling.

So what does he do about that?

Well, he could fuck you, make you scream his name while he spills load after load of his cum into your cute little cunt. But he wants to take his time with you, and you look like you don’t mind working for it a little.

Izuku has come up with the perfect plan to get you alone.

He booked a private training room, inviting you in to teach you how to get the most out of the spin machine. Platinum members get the best perks after all, and he really needs a gym partner. So, he introduces himself to you.

You didn’t expect to be on your knees within the first few minutes of entering the room; shorts thrown on the ground and sports bra pushed above your chest, Izukus lean figure shadowing over you. His shorts are bunched around his thighs, and he’s stroking his cock in one hand while the other holds your chin, swiping his thumb along your lower lip.

All you can think of is how happy you are at this moment.

He sees a tiny drop of saliva falling from your lip, and his thumb is quick to spread it around, popping it in your mouth to press down on your tongue.

“You look so cute like this, bunny.” he coos softly.

He taps his cock on the side of your face a few times. Loving the way you pull back a little in shock. It’s so much heavier than it looks, and you stifle a moan at the thought of him inside you.

“Do you want my cock?” he asks you, stroking your jaw with his fingers.

“Mm, yes, please,” you plead, almost in tears, nails digging into the thick muscle of his thighs. “Wanna taste you.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes seem to shine as you beg, stroking his cock in front of your face, gasping and moaning quietly every time his thumb swipes the tip.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck that slutty little mouth of yours, hm?” he asks, brows furrowed from the stimulation.

Shifting your weight, you lean into him slightly, but he’s quick to hold you back from the one thing you want most.

“C’mon, baby. Good girls use their words,” he says, squeezing your jaw.

You can only whimper a soft ‘yes’ in response before his rough hands are on you instantly, guiding you closer to his cock. Holding you right in front of his thick length, almost red at the tip. He’s teasing you with it, pumping a few times and waving it in your face like some sort of treat.

Bracing your hands on his thighs, you lean forward, kissing the pretty pink head and hearing him shudder because of it. Your tongue swirls diligently around the tip where you lick a stripe up his glans, smearing a bead of precum down his shaft and to his balls, where he twitches once you lick over them.

You pop one of his heavy balls into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks and humming around him. He bucks into you, the tip of his dick tapping your forehead as you look at him through your lashes. His lower lip is between his teeth; some curls are covering his dark green eyes and furrowed brows, making him look fucked out even though you’ve barely touched him.

He keeps huffing and groaning the same way he does when he’s squatting, and you press your nails into his thighs to get closer to him, leaving small indents on his skin. He’s so warm and smells so good you can’t help but smother your face between his legs.

You’ve lathered his entire length with a mixture of spit and precum. It’s starting to drip down his balls, onto his thighs. It’s even on your chin, dripping down your neck and glistening on your tits.

Wrapping your lips around the tip, you take him in your mouth, feeling the burn in your jaw from how thick he is and whining around him because of it. Your tongue massages the underside of him while you wrap a hand around the base, pumping him a few times.

His hips are starting to jerk into your mouth at a quicker pace, and you can tell he’s struggling to hold back. “Fuck,” he breathes out. Hands cupping your face again, admiring the puffiness of your eyes as he swipes over your cheeks.

He holds your face in his hands while he looks down at you with a grin. Your small hand keeps pumping him slowly, and your tongue laves over his tip, popping it in your mouth and tucking it in your cheek like a lollipop.

“Shit,” he hisses. “You’re a nasty little whore, huh?” he asks while he pats the bulge in your cheek, grunting when he feels your teeth scrape softly against his sensitive head.

You feel him wrap his hand around yours—encouraging you to stroke him faster, squeeze just a little harder. His other hand finds the back of your head where he supports you before guiding his cock to the roof of your mouth and thrusting forward.

You gag softly around him, moaning at the feeling of his dick hitting the back of your throat. You’re so tight and warm that he can’t help but fantasize about how tight your pussy is and bucks his hips faster at the thought.

Izuku has a blissful expression on his face even though you can’t see it when you peer up at him again. His head is hanging back, and his jaw is clenched, making the veins on his neck more prominent. Beads of sweat are dripping down his throat, collecting on the neckline of his muscle shirt as his chest heaves up and down.

You’re starting to spill tears down your cheeks from the stretch and intensity of his thrusts. Humming around him as more saliva and precum drips down your chin and onto the floor of the training room.

“Fuck, your mouth is so fuckin’ good,” he huffs. Grunting when your throat tightens at his praise.

He looks down at you, a soft smile on his face. Then he smirks, grabbing both sides of your face with his big hands, bringing you further down his cock until your nose brushes against the trim patch of hair at the base of him.

“Gonna take all my cum, ‘kay, baby,” he says fucking your throat like it was your cute cunt wrapped around his cock.

His balls are slapping against your chin, the mess of spit making the sound even louder. His thrusts are starting to slow, but the depth doesn’t change; he’s still hitting your gag reflex each time, and your moans only encourage him to go deeper.

Taking in as much air through your nose as you can, you let him thrust his dick to the back of your throat and holding it there while he swells inside you. He pulls back slightly to spill his hot load on your tongue, then pushes you back softly to finish on your face.

Some drops land on your tits as you struggle to catch your breath, swallowing what he released in your mouth —thick and sticky.

You lick your lips to pick up any remnants before looking up at him with a smile on your face. Shiny and bright with his cum.

“Did I do good?” you ask, blinking tears away from your eyes and sniffling.

He swipes your cheek, trailing his cum back to your mouth before pushing past your lips, spreading the salty substance on your teeth and gums.

“You did so well, baby,” he coos back to you. Kissing the top of your head, then giving you a closed-eyed smile. He steps back to admire how you look. Messy, fucked out, and dripping with his cum.

He pulls up his shorts and stalks over to his water bottle, taking a few sips, then  reaching into your gym bag and tossing a towel to you. He spares one more glance your way before picking up his bag and draping a towel over his shoulder.

“I’ll see you next week, yeah,” he chirps before opening the door to the training studio and walking out.

He turns around quickly and chuckles softly. “Don’t forget to do those stretches I told you about,” he adds, closing the door leaving you in the middle of the room.

Naked, covered in cum, and so fucking wet.

as always feedback and rb's are appreciated <333 i love you all v much! MWAH

[emeren]

such a tease - eren jaeger

👗 anon request <3

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader 

word count: 4k

content warnings: 18+, smut, choking, degradation, exhibitionism, unprotected sex, jealousy, possessiveness 

notes: this was an anonymous request and lemme just say, i was SO excited to write this one. i’m unfortunately not super happy with how it turned out, but i’ve been swamped bc school just started back up!

SUMMARY: reader decides to tease eren by wearing a skirt without any underwear for the day, causing her very jealous boyfriend to act out in an unexpected way. 

one look in the mirror was all it took for you to quell your nerves. your fingers ran over the expanse of the pleated skirt, smoothing out any wrinkles and creases. this was bold, even for you, but you knew exactly what you were doing. 

eren had never been particularly shy about his protective nature; he was always making sure people understood you were his girlfriend, wrapping his arm around your waist or glaring at men who stared a little too long. 

you loved that about him, but you loved pushing his buttons even more. he had a bad habit of being an argumentative, hot headed little shit, and teasing him like this was asking for some rough, animalistic gesture. that was exactly what you wanted. 

you’d never neglected to wear underwear in a skirt this short, the fabric stopping just below your ass. you knew you’d have to be careful or you would end up flashing jean or armin, and that would drive eren up a wall. 

you hoped eren wouldn’t notice until you were all out; meaning there would be nothing he could do about it. teasing him was one of your favorite things to do. 

you heard your phone buzz quietly from your bed, picking up the small device and seeing eren’s name at the top. 

lil shit <3: get ur ass out here we’ve been waiting forever 

the eye roll that naturally came to you was strong, giving yourself one final once over in the mirror before heading out of your apartment. you couldn’t help the nervous smile that teased at your lips once you left the building, connie’s beat up minivan sitting at the curb. riding in his car was never the first choice; it was musty and had suspicious stains on the carpeting, but it was the only one that fit all of your friends. 

connie laid on the horn as soon as he saw you, the rest of your friends yelling from inside the vehicle as you approached. you could see jean in the passenger seat, jogging up to the rear door with a knot of nervousness in your stomach. you placed one hand on your thigh to keep the skirt from riding up as you slid the van door open. 

sasha and mikasa were stuffed in the small backseat, armin and eren sitting in the middle row. it was comical to see eren in the spot generally reserved for the smallest passenger, but you had no doubt that he wanted to sit in the middle because of you. he was petty like that - a trait that made teasing him all the more fun. 

“hey guys,” you smiled, sliding into the van as your friends all greeted you at once. your eyes were on connie, who was craning his neck to give you a rather incredulous look. 

you felt eren stiffen as you sat down, reaching for the seatbelt. connie decided to speak up before you had a chance to question it. “dude, come ooooon. what the hell took you so long?” 

“sorry, i was distracted and my phone was on my bed,” you explained, connie resolutely rolling his eyes in response. 

“let’s go already, i’m starving!” sasha wailed from the back, shaking your seat in front of her. you giggled at her desperation, finally turning to your boyfriend as connie sped away from the curb. 

you were surprised to see that eren was already staring at you, a weird glint in his eyes. you gave him a smile, trying to act innocent. “hi.” 

he didn’t say anything, just looked forward and placed his large hand on your bare thigh. it wasn’t that it was unusual for him to do so in front of your friends, in fact it was normal. you just weren’t used to him placing it so high; so high that the tip of his pinky dipped beneath the fabric of your skirt and threatened to inch towards the apex of your leg. 

had he already noticed?

“took you awhile to get ready,” eren commented, his words only being heard by you as everyone else in the car chatted about going bowling. you glanced back up at him, eyes scanning his face. he was wearing a black t-shirt and sweats, the customary ‘i don’t care about anything’ outfit he always seemed to adorn. the cold metal of the ring on his middle finger did little to ease your nerves. 

“yeah, i was just thinking about some stuff and got distracted,” you lied, smiling up at him. he was looking at you from the side of his eyes, jaw clenched. 

“really?” he breathed, his hand shifting ever so slightly up your leg. his smallest finger teased at the crease of your thigh, head leaning down to whisper in your ear. “were you thinking about some stuff or were you forgetting about some stuff?”

your breath hitched, face growing hot as you struggled for something to say. connie, once again, beat you to the punch. “oi! lovebirds! no canoodling in my back seat!”

“we weren’t canoodling,” eren sneered, pulling away and moving his hand to just above your knee. he squeezed the skin generously, your slight embarrassment about eren’s public displays of affection quickly wearing off. “i was just saying, it looks like she forgot a coat.” 

jean snorted from the front seat. “yeah and because you’re a dumbass who doesn’t wear one either, i’m gonna have to give her mine later.” 

jean’s lighthearted words lit a devious lightbulb in your mind, the gears of your plan now in full swing. you leaned forwards, wrapping your arms around the back of the chair and consequently jean’s broad chest. you leaned your head to the side, a grin on your face.

“you really are too sweet to me, jean-jean!” you cooed, the feeling of eren’s grip tightening on your thigh an indication of just how well this was working in your favor. jean chuckled at the familiar nickname, hand coming up to pat your arms wrapped around him. 

you let go and slid back into your spot, eren’s face clearly peeved at your display of affection. for once, you had the upper hand. and you were going to milk it all the way. 

the local bowling alley was a small, dank building that prided itself on its catering towards college students without much else to do. as connie skidded to a stop in his self-designated parking spot, the legacy of the building seemed to live up to its expectations. 

eren hadn’t said anything else on the ride over, just kept his hand protectively (and respectfully) placed on your lower thigh. you were much more careful sliding out of the car this time, hand blatantly coming down to cover your ass. you knew that eren was watching you, as he was quick to follow you from the vehicle and stand behind your brazen figure. 

he wrapped his arms lazily around your waist, resting his chin on the top of your head as you waited for your friends to pile out of the car. you’d grown accustomed to his touchy nature, suddenly deciding to press your ass against his groin. the gesture was small, but you could feel eren’s dick harden within his pants. 

“careful!” he hissed, hopping back in an attempt to shake away his sudden erection. you snickered to yourself, giving him a glance over your shoulder as you followed your friends into the building. 

the interior was the same as it’d always been; drowned out with black lights and the smell of wax. it was the kind of atmosphere that reminded you of your earliest days of childhood; attending large birthday parties and eating way too much cheaply made cake. 

the attendant was a short man named george, one who’d acknowledged connie’s arrival with annoyance. 

“head to our usual lane guys,” connie pointed, a grin on his features. you all made your way towards lane ten, eren in a sulking tow behind you.

as everyone began to sit down, jean motioned for you to sit next to him. “each side will be opposing teams. we’ve gotta be on the same team, per usual.” he called innocently. 

you and jean had dominated your friend group bowling tournaments each time before, and you figured this would be no different. you started towards him, surprised when you felt eren’s hand wrap around your wrist. 

“she’s going to be on my team this time, if you don’t mind,” eren stated in a quipped tone, something that would normally go undetected by jean due to their frenemy behavior. you knew that eren’s words were coming from a place of jealousy, sincerely trying to hide your sadistic grin.

jean scoffed, shaking his head. “yeah, right, jaeger. she’s going to be on connie and i’s team, like always.” 

you nodded your head in agreement, spinning to face your boyfriend. your skirt lifted ever so slightly at the action, eren’s teal eyes snapping to the garment with an annoyed perseverance. “don’t worry, i’ll take it easy on you.” 

he knew what you were doing. he knew that the thought of a part of you - a part specifically reserved for him - nearly on display for anyone who cared enough to pay attention, was enough to fill him with a primal sense of possessiveness. 

eren had never been particularly good at hiding his emotions. in fact, he’d been known to let them consume him in an embarrassingly juvenile way. as you sat down next to jean, your bare leg bumping his, eren couldn’t suppress the annoyance that washed over him. he folded his arms, the thought of your tight little- 

“eren?” armin called out, eren snapping from his lewd thought process. you took notice, leaning down to tie your bowling shoes. “did you hear me? i said here’s your shoes.” 

you listened to eren clear his throat and apologize, deciding to chat with jean and connie as everyone got ready to play. 

the final straw in your plan hadn’t even happened on purpose. it’d come to you itself, as if the powers that be were purposefully trying to get you rammed into oblivion. it came after the first few rounds of bowling, after a few near misses with jean regarding the skirt, each one sinking eren further into his foul mood. it came in the form of a lanky, awkward looking employee. 

he couldn’t have been any older than eighteen, carrying sasha’s order of nacho fries and your coca cola. he’d meant his comment to be nice as you got up to grab your drink. he hadn’t meant to say something that would send your childish boyfriend over the edge. 

“oh, uh, i like your skirt,” he’d commented awkwardly, scratching at the back of his neck. you smiled politely in response, eyes flitting over to eren. and if looks could kill, that awkward teenage boy would’ve been dead on sight. 

eren’s eyebrows were furrowed, jaw clenched tightly. you felt your cheeks heat as he made eye contact with the boy, standing from his seat. eren was tall, looming behind you as he protectively wrapped himself around your figure. 

“thanks,” he said flatly, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. you held your breath at the feeling of eren deeply exhaling against the sensitive skin, large hands squeezing your hips. the boy quickly looked at the ground, nodding before deciding to leave. eren waited until he was gone to remove himself from you, an annoyed twitch in his eye. “fucking little pervert.” 

you rolled your eyes, taking a generous swig from your coke. “he was just being nice.” 

eren glared at you, watching as you started back towards your friends. “nice my ass. i know you’re doing this just to rile me up.” 

“what ever do you mean?” you snickered, purposefully swaying your hips as eren scoffed, plopping back down in his seat. 

you made your way over to your teammates, sitting down and watching armin finish his turn. a couple minutes went by, chugging your coke and getting ready for connie to take his turn. 

“i think i’m gonna go use the bathroom,” you hummed, jean nodding his head in understanding. you waited until connie tossed the bowling ball down the lane, effectively missing all of the pins. you knew you’d drank the soda way too fast, standing from the bench and making your way towards the dimly lit restrooms. 

they were dark inside, with red lighting like something out of a sex club. you pushed the heavy door open, quickly locking it behind you and relieving yourself. 

as you washed your hands in the sink, you thought about just how riled up eren was getting. it was humorous, in more ways than one, but you couldn’t help the slight guilt that crept up the back of your neck about your actions. 

but then again, it wasn’t like eren wasn’t known himself for being a tease. you couldn’t count the number of times where he’d purposefully made you jealous or grabbed your ass in an inopportune moment. so what was the harm in giving him a taste of his own medicine? 

you flattened your hands against the skirt, making sure it was straight before unlocking the door and heaving it open, stepping out into the dark hallway. 

you jumped back at the appearance of a dark figure leaning against the wall, defensively clutching your chest as you stood in front of your slightly amused boyfriend. 

“mind if we chat?” he asked, voice edging an emotion that you knew you couldn’t get into at the moment. your eyes glanced down the end of the hallway, no one in sight. you looked back to him, his pink lips turned upwards, the word ‘gotcha’ written all over his face.

“we should probably head back out there,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the way eren was sizing you up. he just smiled, pushing himself from the wall and taking a step towards you. all of the confidence you’d had in your teasing flew out the window, swallowing at the downfall of your plan.

“don’t worry. i told ‘em my mom was calling,” he purred in response, index finger coming up to gently trace against your jaw. it was his turn to be smug; everyone in your friend group knew that carla’s phone calls were a draw out, lengthy affair. he’d trapped you. 

you held your breath as he stepped forward, slowly tilting your jaw to place a deceivingly sweet kiss to the skin. you felt embarrassed at the way your cunt throbbed at the action, his lips moving to tease the shell of your ear. “but what about me?” 

“what about you?” eren sneered, his voice turning slightly sour, fingers roughly gripping your jaw as he placed a kiss right below your ear. “this is what you were asking for, wasn’t it? now be a good girl and go back into the bathroom for me.” 

you hesitated for a moment, thinking about your friends bowling a mere 100 feet away. eren’s eyes were dark, and the churning you could feel at the pit of your stomach was only making it harder to resist. 

all it took was the thought of eren bending you over the sink, fucking you stupid for you to demurely shift in place, turning to shove the bathroom door open once again. you could feel your neck burning at the thought of how easily you’d just submitted, but you wanted this. more than anything. 

the bathroom was no desirable place; it smelled like generic soap and had discarded pieces of toilet paper on the ground. eren didn’t seem to care, gingerly locking the door behind himself before roughly shoving you forward facing against the cool, knock off linoleum countertop. 

you could feel his hard dick pressing against your ass, your reflections in the dirty mirror lit under the red lightbulbs. he was commanding; aggressively grinding himself into you, your skirt beginning to ride up at the motion.

eren made eye contact with you in the glass, one hand coming forward to tilt your neck to the side. he slowly brought his lips down, peppering the skin till his mouth met the base of your neck. he made sure you were watching as he pressed his tongue flatly against the skin, your breath hitching as you watched him drag the wet muscle up to your jawline. 

“you’re such a tease,” he growled against you, rolling his hips into your ass. you could feel your skirt starting to ride up even more, the cold air uncomfortable. “’s’hot, knowing your pretty little cunt is so exposed.” 

his hand on your jaw slipped around your throat, squeezing lightly in warning as he flipped the edge of your skirt up.

you squeaked as his other hand snaked between your legs, middle two fingers slowly sliding themselves between your already soaking center. he rubbed at your clit, breath hot against your neck as he forced you to watch him through the mirror. 

“look at how pretty you are,” he mumbled as he plunged his two digits inside of you, the sudden sensation causing a gasp to leave your lips. he wasn’t playing nice; roughly digging his fingers all the way to the last knuckle. his other hand squeezed your throat tighter. it hurt, but you couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched around him, chest tightening. “so pretty for me. n’only me.”

he slowed his fingers, pumping in and out of you, the sound of your slick causing him to grow impossibly harder. the feeling of his cock pressed against the flesh of your ass sent another throb to your cunt, eren smirking in response. 

“needy for my cock after teasing all day?” he asked, stuffing his fingers particularly deep, a strangled moan slipping past your lips. you struggled to nod your head against his grasp, the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of you at such a rhythmic pace causing you to grind your hips against his hand and subsequently his cock. 

he quickly pulled his fingers out from inside of you, hand growing tighter around your throat. “you were such a little whore today. a little whore who needs to learn a thing or two.” 

you could feel tears prickling in your eyes, eren’s hand that was wrapped around your throat coming up to pry your mouth open. you didn’t have a chance to react before he was slipping his sheen coated fingers past your lips, the saccharine flavor hitting your tastebuds. 

“suck for me, pretty girl,” he said lowly, hooded eyes watching you in the mirror. you did as you were told, wrapping your lips around his knuckles and swirling your tongue around his fingers. the taste wasn’t completely pleasant or unpleasant, your mouth releasing with a smack. 

eren pressed down on your tongue with his fingers, saliva filling your mouth before he dragged the two digits down your chin and throat, leaving a shiny trail in their wake. 

he brought his hands down to roughly grope your chest, your own hands pressing against the countertop to keep you steady. eren gripped the hem of your sweater, forcing the fabric up to your midsection. 

“off, take it off.” he demanded, leaning back from you but still keeping his groin pressed against your ass. you were quick to oblige, pulling it over your head. as you did so, you could feel eren palming your ass under the skirt, his dark eyes fixated on the sight of your little skirt riding up on your skin. 

you dropped the sweater to the ground, knowing you’d regret it later, but you couldn’t be bothered. eren didn’t wait, letting go of your ass to unclasp your bra, the undergarment falling into the empty sink. he palmed at your newly exposed breasts, fingers pinching at your hardened nipples. 

he was watching you in the mirror, the sight of you batting your eyelashes with your saliva on your chin only making him more possessive. it sent a twitch to his cock, hands releasing from your chest to shove you against the cold glass. 

“want me to show this pretty cunt who it belongs to, hm?” eren nearly growled, the thought of jean or that employee ever being lucky enough to see you like this pushing him over the edge. 

you tried to nod against the mirror, your breasts pressed against the cold material only aiding the way your center throbbed mercilessly for whatever eren was about to do. his hand came up to fist your hair, the other haphazardly yanking down his sweats and boxers. 

you could see his veiny cock slap against his stomach through the mirror, the tingling in your clit multiplying at the sight of it. eren smirked at your staring. 

“fuck,” he hissed, his gaze drawn to your skirt pooled around your waist, glistening center ready for him to abuse. and he couldn’t wait any longer, rubbing the tip of his cock between your legs. 

a gasp ripped through your throat at just how deeply eren thrusted into you, his hips hitting your ass with a loud smack. it hurt; his brows furrowed as he completely pulled out from you, just to ram himself back inside your tight cunt. 

“what’s wrong?” eren asked breathlessly, pounding into you as hard as he could. you were jerking against the mirror, mouth open as your nose began to tingle; a tell-tale sign of tears. your boyfriend had a sadistic smile on his face, a piece of hair falling from his bun to rest against his forehead. 

“ah- hurts,” you gasped out, the sound of eren pounding into you filling the small space. eren hit you with a particularly deep angled thrust, the tip of his cock brushing your cervix. he tightly fisted your hair, yanking on the follicles as hit other hand gripped your waist for better leverage. it hurt so bad, but so good.  

“look at you, look at you take my cock like this,” he said, voice gravelly as he began to buck his hips faster. you could feel the hot tears rolling down your cheeks, eren’s hand around your waist moving to guide your knee up onto the counter top for better leverage. the pain lessened with his movement, his animalistic thrusts growing pleasurable. “such a good little whore. a little whore who’ll only let me fuck her like this, hm?” 

you moaned out against the glass, eren yanking your hair as an indication for a worded response. “yes-yes. all for you, only you.” 

eren groaned out at your words, his head leaning back as he slammed into you from behind. he was blurry as your breath fogged the glass, but just the image of him bucking his cock deep within your throbbing cunt was enough to have you seeing stars. 

he was filling you up so nice, pressing himself against you as the veins in his arms grew prominent. you could feel him twitching inside of you, your own center clenching around him as he made sure you knew you were his. 

“such a little tease, showing off her pretty little cunt like that,” eren moaned out, shamelessly loud. he buried himself within you, your eyes rolling back in your head as the building anticipation between your legs became too much to bear. 

“eren-” you heaved, him quickening his pace, hitting your cervix over and over. it was enough to make the tears come back, your vision becoming hot white as he bucked his hips once more, stuffing his cock impossibly deep within you. your orgasm didn’t reach its climax until you felt eren’s length twitch, effectively filling you with his cum. 

the high was incredible; the cold mirror a stark contrast to the hot, burning sensation as eren thrusted out his own climax. 

the two of you stood for a moment, mirror foggy and bathroom humid as you recollected your composure. when eren did pull out, he watched his cum slowly drip down your thigh, fingers attempting to stuff it back inside of you. 

“don’t let it drip out,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to your sweaty cheek. you could only roll your eyes, peeling yourself from the glass. he gingerly pulled his pants back up, delivering a swift swat to your ass as he stood straight again. 

“y’know, you should wear skirts more often.” 

“you should get jealous more often.” 

“sounds like a deal to me.” 

<3 <3 <3

[ravewood]

Fresh meat:part 2

Juice Ortiz imagine 

Little smutty

Part 1 Part 3

Masterlist

You where in Charming for almost a year now. You grown to love the small town. It held so much secrets, its own name contradicts itself.

You did end up finish college still looking for the career job. You didn’t want to leave the bar. It was almost like a safe heaven.

It didn’t take long to pick up on what’s going on in town either. You knew the son of anarchy where more then just a club or co workers. But you happened to think they where your best customers. And even in the lines of friends almost.

The guys frequented the bar pretty often… especially a certain tattooed Puerto Rican. Seeing Juice would always be the highlight of your day. He easily could make you smile even on the worst kind of day. It was just something about him that made you heart ache and skip a beat all in once.

Maybe it was you, and your dumb taste in men. You liked how dangerous he looked. Juice had a certain aura to him. He was built, tattoo inked across his tanned skin. He always seemed to be in black. He looked like he can easily pick you up and throw you around. And your not really sure why you liked that idea.

But you knew there was so much more to this man. He may look like a outlaw biker but he was so sweet. He almost had a child like charm with his goofy personality you grew to love. Not that you’d ever admit that to him.

Juice always seemed to make time and visit you at work. You’d like to say your friends. Well the closets thing you have to a friend here in the middle off no where. He’s helped you out more then enough other with your car and even some house work.

You would tease him. He’d flirt with you. But that’s all it ever was. He never made a move to cross the line you where so dying he would.

And just like now Friday was another night. The guys where already at the bar once you showed up for your shift.

“Thank god your here, Juice’s neck bout to break from him checking the door every damn time that bell ring.” Jax joked as he leaned over the bar.

“Im early still? He should know that.” You joked and you tied the bar apron on. You never felt like dressing up for work. You knew you’d be busting the bar barely had any time to even take a breather on Friday. Jeans and a tank top where by far your favorite. You didn’t might the extra tips from drunk horny men. But you especially didn’t mind catching Juice looking at you through out the night.

“Hey JC.” You said making smile on the nickname you had for him. It made him feel more special then the other guys. He was always your number one. Not that you ever paid attention to anyone else and he liked it that way.

“Hey (y/n).” Juice said loving how your name sounded. He always said it any chance he got.

“Are you free tomorrow? That stupid new dishwasher finally came in. I don’t understand why no one delivers to charming.” You huffed as you opened the guys new beers. Juice promised weeks ago to help you install it. You knew nothing about anything. And you loved Juice over your house helping. Something about him doing house work made your inside stir.

“I’ll be there in the morning, unless your closing tonight and sleeping in?” He asked. He didn’t want you to have anyone else over. He liked helping you with anything. He would do any silly task you would ever ask if that meant spending more time with just you. 

“Yeah hopefully I can get this place cleaned up and shut down before morning. You can come anytime. And have I ever told you your the best Juice.” You said giving him a big smile. You probably wouldn’t have made it here this long without him.

“Juicy boy get your ass over here. Got to show these old guys about you know what.” Jax yelled over the noises bar. Your rolled your eyes watching Juice walk to the back of the bar. Probably some dumb super secret SOA stuff.

Most of the night went pretty uneventful. You just wanted to see Juice but they where doing club shit. Your heart raced when the door would open but still no Juice.

“Hey doll another one.” A customer asked. You simply smiled filling another beer. But he didn’t leave he just stood leaning at the bar. You haven’t seen him around before, it was odd.

“Anything else?” You asked him trying not to sound rude.

“Just your company would be nice. Has anyone ever told you that you have the most captivating eyes? Almost like your staring right through me.” The stranger flirted with you. You weren’t one to flirt well the only man you wanted to flirt with has you last in his priorities list.

Juice made his way out the back room. SOA was discussing a run with another branch. It was a far run almost to the coast. Juice felt like it was a waste of time but agreed.

He quickly hurried through the bar to find you. He almost froze as he noticed some stranger in his place at the last stool at the bar. That’s where he always stayed and talked with your during your long shifts.

“Who the fuck is this.” Juice grumbled making his way over. He didn’t like how this man was making you laugh. He didn’t like his when you went to serve another customer that guy just eye raped you. He didn’t like that you haven’t told him to piss off either.

Juice was never one to share. Your weren’t technically his but he still wouldn’t share. No one would even understand in the slightest what you two shared together. He always wanted to it to progress farther into more. He just was stuck and didn’t know how to make the next move. Juice was a confident man but when it came to (y/n) he was in shambles of a nervous mess.

“(Y/n).” Juice stated leaning over the bar trying to get a big closer to you. He hoped you wouldn’t notice how much of an effect you had over him.

“Gez took you long enough. Thought you got kidnap for a second.” You joked as you poured him a whiskey sour.

“I knew you missed me it was only 2 hours babe.” He said finding the anger and jealousy to be fueling his confidence. His dark eyes flickered over to the guy who was still sitting there looking at you. All Juice wanted to do was stand up and yell that no one was allowed to look at you that way or any way. He felt like a child having a tantrum. 

“Excuse me (y/n) I’ll take another.” The man said making juice blood boil. He didn’t like hearing someone else say your name.

“Here you go.” You quickly popped the lid off the beer handing it to him.

“I was thinking, maybe you’d want to grab a drink when your not in the clock.” The guy said make Juice lose it. Right if front of him. Juice was up in the guys face before you could even say a word.

“Hey kid, you better get the fuck out here before I start rearranging your face.” Juice threatened holding the guy by his neck. He can be very intimidating when needed. His appearance really was threatening but you knew he was just a goof ball. You gulped down feeling nervous yet kind of engaged seeing Juice like this. You can see his veins sticking out on his muscular arms. His jaw clenched and back muscles bulging.

“I didn’t know man.” The stranger said his eyes darting from the threatening biker to you. You’d admit you never though Juice would react like this. With one swing he threw the guy over. It took less then ten seconds before he disappeared.

“Was that necessary?” You asked him putting your hand on your hips.

“Lets go.” Juice said spinning his finger. You could feel anger radiating off him. You’ve never seen him like this before.

“JC you know I’m here till 3 to close.” You nagged on. You weren’t sure what he’s getting at.

“(Y/n) we’re going.” He said taking your hand pulling you along with him. His hand gripped hard. It was rough you can feel his calluses rubbing against your skin.

“Where?” You finally asked as you where already outside. He didn’t answer he just pushed you up against the cold wall. His hand holding you up by your hips. His forehead pressed against your making your breath mix with his. You can see he was breathing pretty heavily.

“Juice?” You whispered a little scared to say anything. Your hands gripped in to the sleeve of his shirt.

He didn’t say anything. He just crashed his lips against your own making a low moan escape. You  pictured kissing juice thousands of time made but this was even better.

You couldn’t hold yourself up, only relying on him to keep you up. Your hands two went to the back of his neck pushing him even closer to you. His hands pressed roughly against you as he tried pulling you even closer to him now.

“Juice..”  Your breathed out your lips still brushing against him. Your eyes searched his looking for something but you weren't quit sure what. 

“I’m taking you home.” He stated not really waiting for you to respond. You just simply followed in suit with him to his bike. He helped you on the bike before getting on himself. Your arms quickly wrapped around his waist pulling yourself closer to him. You’ve never been on the back of a motorcycle. You knew he can feel your heart thumping against his back. But you weren’t sure if it was from the nervousness of going on the bike or from the kiss earlier. 

You almost didn’t want to pull your arms off Juice once you pulled up to your house. You felt so warm pressed against him. Juice also felt warm but he wasn't sure if he was still angry or horny from your chest pressed against his back. 

Juice quickly got off the bike, helping you again to get off. He kept watching you as he followed you to the front door. The silence was oddly calming and at the same time terrifying. He couldn’t help himself as he stared down at your perfectly sculpted bum as you unlocked the door leading him in. 

Juice didn't even give you a chance to say anything before you pushed you back against the wall reattaching his lips to your. It was like they where made to fit perfectly together. You loved felling him against you. Your kissed quickly turned more desperate by the second. 

Juice slowly lead you through the hall way not breaking any contact from you. Next thing you know you where being pressed against you bed with Juice on top of you. The only moments your lips broke apart was when you pulled each other clothes off. 

He eagerly trailed kisses down your neck making you moan when he was a little too rough. your hands gripped his large biceps knowing you where going to leave marks and not really caring at the moment. 

“Off now,” You mumbled into his lips as you played with his belt not able to undo it your self. He pulled always smirking with his eyebrow raised. You took your chance to gather your breath as you watched his undo his belt letting his pants fall to the floor. You bite your lip trying not to stare at the huge imprint in his boxers. 

Juice winked at you leaning back over and quickly pulling off your own jeans. Anywhere where his skink touched yours felt like it was on fire. You couldn’t compose yourself as Juice climbed on top of you. 

“Tell me to stop.” He mumbled out in a deep raspy voice you never heard from him. Oh and you liked it so much. You imagined that’s how he sounded right when he woke up in the mornings. 

“Please Juice. You begged him trying to pull him back to you. You felt so desperate but at this moment it didn’t matter because you where. You where so desperate for his touch, for his love. 

It didn’t take anything else before Juice leaned back down to you. His hand gripped your throat and his lips moved with yours. You can feel him getting rougher with you and his tongue made its way past your lips. 

With ease Juice flipped you over. It was almost like instinct that you pressed your bum up meeting with his lower reign. You needed him now. Juice groaned rolling his eyes back. He never thought it would end up like this. But seems like for both of you the animalistic lust just took over. You both have been holding back for way too long. To scared to cross a line the other might have been unwilling to go over. 

His large hands gripped on your ass as he pulled you closer. Juice couldn’t realize if maybe he was still sleeping or if this was real. You where already wet and dripping down your own thigh waiting for Juice to make the next move.

 You arched your back just a little bit more. You can feel him right at your entrance. Juice knew once this happens theres not going back after this. without having a second though he filled you up. At the moment you weren’t even sure what to think everything felt like cloud nine bliss. 

He slowly moved in and out groaning as your dripped over him. Sex never felt this good to him, he must be in a dream. You groaned not likely the slow teasing pace. You needed so much more of him. roughly you pushed back on him finding your own rhythm against him. 

“Shit (y/n)” Juice groaned out meeting every one of your movements. He loved seeing your ass bouncing back on him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out. 

“Don’t stop.” You let out feeling your high coming faster then you ever thought possible. Your hands gripped the sheets under you as your body started to shake on its own. Juice took it upon himself to make sure he gave you the best orgasm of your life. His huge hands gripped your ass pushing into you harder then ever before. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer before he let himself go inside you. He leaned over you fall down to the bed with you. 

“Damn baby” He whispered pulling you back to him. 

“Uh huh” You whispered, you couldn't get anything else out really. Your head was still spinning and your whole body still felt the high. Juice moved slightly behind you, Slowly slipping out of you. If it wasn’t for that orgasm you might have been freaking out a little about not being safe. But you didn’t even seem to care, it was Juice. 

“Good night.” He mumbled behind you as he pressed a kiss to your shoulder. 

“Goodnight JC” You said smiling to yourself before puling the blanket over both of you. 

[katsukisprincess-archive]

need | kiribaku x reader

a/n: jo asked me to reupload this from her birthday last year! for @lady-bakuhoe

summary: kirishima is hit with an aphrodisiac quirk on the job and bakugou knows exactly who can help him out.

pairing: mostly kirishima x reader, slight bakugou insert

word count: 2.3k

warnings: nasty. dubcon, rimming, fisting, implied pegging, dirty talk, squirting, slight threesome

“Shut up, shitty hair, you’re going to wake her.” 

“I can’t help it, dude, look at her.” 

The voices peaked through your consciousness, followed by a cold whisp of air that caused bumps to rise on the exposed skin of your leg. You let out a groggy noise, finally allowing your eyes to blink open to the scene in front of you. You tried to focus in and when the spinning shapes of morning turned into figures, you found it hard to believe that what you were looking at was reality. 

Katsuki Bakugou, your husband, was sitting across the room from you in a chair. His arms were crossed against his chest and he had a classic smirk on his face, already alerting you that something was off. What it was, you discovered, was the grown man in bed with you- one that smelled like battle and sweat and everything you didn’t want against your sheets. 

Eijirou Kirishima was someone you were very familiar with. He had been your friend alongside Katsuki since the Yuuei days and up through the present; he was at nearly every house function and worked in the same agency as Ground Zero. Kirishima was no stranger at all, but you just weren’t used to him in your bed. 

“W-What? Eijirou? Katsuki?” Your voice was so innocent, so meek, that it went straight to his already-stiffening cock. His reaction made your head snap to him, and then to your husband, and back and forth until Katsuki finally stood up at joined you at the side of the bed. 

His hot palm brushed your hair back while the other cascaded your stomach, easing the goosebumps from the open window. His lips came down to your forehead where he pressed a rough kiss before speaking. “Got hit by a quirk on the job today.” He motioned to your friend, who was having a hard time keeping his eyes off of your bare torso.

“And?” 

“Help me.” Eijirou rasped. “We joke about it all the time- fuck- right?” 

He wasn’t wrong. Conversations about your sex life were in no way private and in no sense of it all had Katsuki ever been closed off to the idea of his best friend joining in on the fun. You had just figured that when- if- it had happened, it would have happened on… different terms. 

But how could you say no to Red Riot on his knees for you, thick cock straining through his shorts and leaking through the fabric?

You crawled over to Eijirou as Katsuki sunk back into his chair on the other side of the room. Leaning back and legs spread, he watched as you closed the distance, your grabby hands urging Eijirou’s massive length out of his shorts. It was so large you could barely wrap your fingers around it, truly. He was bigger than Katsuki was, but you were sure that he had much less experience using it compared to his belligerent best friend. As you took in the sight of his meat, Katsuki was pulling his own out of his pants across the room. 

One upward tug on Eijirou was all it took for his first orgasm to hit him- and it hit him hard. Thick ropes of cum shot across the mattress and over your thighs, marking you up for the first time that night. He came with a guttural grunt, but by the time he was finished, you could tell he was in no way even close to being satisfied. 

“Fuck,” Eijirou exclaimed, toppling you onto your back and laying his weight on yours, attacking your neck with his teeth and drawing blood on the first plunge. “This quirk. I’m sorry, shit, I can just smell you from here-” 

Eijirou pulled himself off of you to yank your lacy panties off of your frame. With a yelp your hips landed back on the bed and you watched in shock as he brought them up to his nose and smelled your essence that was dripping against the material. A visible shiver ran down his spine and you caught yourself rubbing your thighs together, strangely turned on by the sight of Red Riot sticking his tongue out just to suck on your panties. 

“Taste her, Eij, it’s like fucking candy.” Katsuki’s voice was strained, and it only fueled your lust further to see him lazily jerking his own girthy cock in his hands. It was one thing to fuck your partner, but it was near etheral to watch them pleasure themselves with an outside perspective. With his hair fanned back and dirt still sticking to his skin, Katsuki looked delicious. 

You didn’t have much time to think on your husband as Eijirou quickly tore your legs open, dipping his head down to lick a clean stripe up your folds. You gasped at the sudden intrusion and your thighs moved down to clamp around his head, but they were immediately slammed back open and shoved back against your chest by two large, hot hands. 

While unexperienced, Eijirou was passionate. He was moving so quickly and so harshly against your sensitive skin that you couldn’t keep up, instead deciding to crane your neck to watch him suck and slurp. His eyes would come up to meet yours occasionally, shooting you a desperate look from under lidded eyes. Mewls and whimpers fell from your lips like a song, and you were unable to stop yourself from bucking up against his face and forcing your juices to coat his cheeks and chin. 

“Get her ass, too. She’s a dirty little slut, aren’t you, princess? You want Eij to rim you?” 

Both of you on the bed groaned instantaneously at Katsuki’s lewd notion. Since Eijirou’s hands were planted flat on your thighs, it was easy for him to push you up and use his thumbs to spread your cheeks apart, your back arched into the air and your ass leveled with his mouth. His tongue moved to prod at your tight hole before he began running circles around it. One hand moved to rub at your clit at the same time, and before you could react, you were cumming. Eijirou groaned as your asshole flexed against his tongue and waited for you to settle down before dropping your back onto the bed once more. 

“You felt so good Eijirou, let me feel your cock~”

Before you could continue, he had slipped three fingers at once into your cunt. It was tight, and it hurt, but he looked absolutely desperate above you, holding his weight on one arm and pummeling his hand into your heat to chase you along. 

“You’re so fucking tight.” He muttered, his cock twitching as he watched his fingers disappear inside of you. A fourth finger was slipped in and you cried out loudly, your hands flying down to grab at his wrist. Pain soon fell into pleasure and Eijirou climbed up on the bed, resting his forehead on yours and fucking you until he was sure you were warmed up enough for his thumb as well.

“Gotta stretch you out, babe.” He was so deliriously lost in lust that he was unable to form full sentences, but you got the gist of what he was saying. Under him, his cock looked dauntingly thick, and you wondered how it would feel inside of you compared to what was now his entire fist inside of you. 

Tears broke the surface and cascaded down your face as Eijirou’s pace picked up, burying himself wrist deep inside of you. Katsuki couldn’t keep his eyes off of the scene- it was so fucking dirty and something he had been dreaming about for so long. Watching his best friend wreck his little princess was a fantasy buried deep in his brain that was finally breaking the surface. 

“Please, please, please, Eijirou, please-” Your begging turned into sobs, unable to hold back when he was stretching you further than you had ever been before. “Please give me your cock, Red Riot. Ple~”

The use of Eijirou’s hero name snapped something inside of him. 

You had never felt an orgasm hit you harder than your third of the night, almost immediately after you began swiping at your clit in time with his thrusting. Eijirou didn’t slow his pace as you began to gush over the sheets, squirting all over his torso. “That’s a good girl, fuck, babe. Fuck.” 

The feeling of his fist pulling out from you left you feeling empty. His hand was covered in slick and your stomach churned as he brought it up to his mouth and sucked off as much as he could before bringing it to your mouth and making you taste yourself. Dizzy and overstimulated, your eyes drifted to Katsuki, who was covered in his own cum and panting heavily. 

Eijirou was reaching a breaking point. He wanted- no- he needed to cum again, and while the idea of him shoving his length down your hot throat sounded like a dream, he couldn’t pass up the way your gaping cunt was currently clenching around nothing.

“Fuck her, Eijirou, or I’m going to do it for you.” Katsuki hissed from the other side of the bedroom, already growing hard again at the thought of either option. There was something so fucking sexy to him about watching you get thrown around and used like a fuck doll, not being able to say anything to complain with his friend’s massive frame towering over yours. 

“I haven’t done this much.” Eijirou muttered as he positioned his cock to your entrance and adjusted himself accordingly. When you gave him a questioning look, he continued. “Haven’t been able to fit it in.” 

His words partly made your stomach flip while also sending you into desire overdrive, causing you to help pull your legs apart to give a better view. You wanted to watch his girth stretch you once again, this time helping his current problem and getting your husband off at the same time. He already knew you’d be getting him back for this all at some point, especially when your eyes drifted over to see that it was just past three in the morning, but you were going to enjoy it while it happened.

Eijirou pushed the tip in slowly, watching your face for any signs to stop. You only dropped your jaw and whined, pulling your legs closer to you and trying to get a better view of it. His cock was fucking insane, truly, and it was an thought in your mind that was finally being satisfied. “You are huge, Red Riot.” 

With a grunt, he thrusted himself all the way in. You should have known that your games were misplaced, especially during a time where Eijirou was in a completely different state of mind. He didn’t really know that his dick was so fucking thick that is was going to split you in half, and when he crawled forward and slammed you into a mating press, you knew he really was completely oblivious. 

“Tight fucking pussy.” His words were sloppy, but the force in his thrusts made up for it. His thighs felt enormous on either side of yours and you wondered how much cock he couldn’t stuff inside of you as you felt nearly overwhelmed with the sheer weight of it. “Gonna fucking tear you apart.” 

Animalistic was an understatement. His thrusts were so loud that it rang through the room and between his noises and yours, you were sure you could be heard down the street. Katsuki had moved over to you, watching and jerking his cock. He slipped his fingers into your mouth, watching you suck down on him as his hand moved frantically. 

“Fuck her harder, Eij, she’s not crying.” 

You would be crying if you could breathe. He was so close to you, radiating so much heat and so much force that you were lost for movements. You laid limp as he took you, his cock dragging against your walls and stuffing you beyond repair. His mouth found your nipple and soon his hand found your other tit, giving both so much attention and bruising while still tearing away with his thrusts. 

Katsuki pressed his hand down onto your forehead, giving him access to see your tear-stained cheeks and watch as your face morphed into one of serious pleasure. He was bearing his teeth as he came closer to you, signaling that he was about to cum and it was going to be all over your fucked out expression. 

Eijirou pulled out at the same time, crawling up your body to angle his swollen cock at your face and join Katsuki in covering it completely. You stuck your tongue out to catch both of them as white strings coated you, both of their scents mixing and both cumming enough to leave you overwhelmed. 

After he was finished, Eijirou fell back on his heels before crawling off the bed and over to your dresser. You watched in curiosity, still covered in cum but realizing that Katsuki must have mentioned that was where your toys were kept. You didn’t know what you were expecting him to pull out of there, but it definitely wasn’t a strap-on. 

“It’s our turned to be fucked, don’t you think, babe?”