#he’s like what do you mean I can’t just imagine taking a bite. oh god. this burger is huge. how do I fit my mouth around it

[pholla-jm]

Sukuna with a S/O who has a sweet tooth/Loves eating sweets ?? :00

Like imagine most of the time they go on a date it's basically just reader and him going to different shops trying out desserts and sweets

Hello! Sorry it took me awhile! I got busy with work and my new class had just started. I decided to add some more to this. I hope you like it!! *********

Sweet Tooth

IMAGINE: SWEET TOOTH~ SUKUNA X READER FEAT: GOJO GENRE: FLUFF cw: modern au! implied female reader, sukuna calls your woman. not proof read. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whenever Sukuna took you out, you would make him stop for a sweet treat. It could be for the slightest thing. Groceries? Sweet treat. Getting gas? Sweet treat? 

You will use any excuse to get sweet treats. 

This time, there was no real reason to convince Sukuna that you needed a sweet treat. Only that there was a new café opening up. Taking a quick glance at what would be on their menu, you already decided that you needed to go. It had most of your favorite pastries and drinks. 

“Please, Sukuna.” You pleaded to your boyfriend with your hands clasped together. You had asked him to take you, but you knew how much he didn’t care for places like that. He didn’t like the options they provided; they always smelled so sweet. And it sometimes stuck to his clothes. 

Sukuna has already decided to go with you, though. He would do anything for you. However, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t make it easy for you. He loved to see you like this. 

“Please, I’ll make it worth your while.” 

Sukuna smirks at your words. 

“I’ll hold you to that.” 

Your face lit up at his words, “so does that mean you’ll take me?” 

“Yeah, brat.” 

“Yay! Thank you!” You say while wrapping your arms around his ample shoulders. 

Sukuna chuckles, squeezing you tight in return. 

When the time came, Sukuna couldn’t believe he agreed to something like this. Since the place was pretty new, there were a lot of people. The theme was coquette, which Sukuna wasn’t fond of. 

Sukuna settled with matcha mochi and coffee. In contrast, you had the most sickening sweets in front of you. 

When Sukuna looks at all of it, his stomach almost churns in disgust. But when he sees you gleam at the desserts and take happy bites, it erases his dislike for the sweet treats. He would spend hours in places like this to see your happy face. 

“What’s so great about these treats anyway?” Sukuna asks you. 

You were about to answer, but someone interrupted you. Someone that neither of you wanted to see. 

“Ooh, can I have some of that?” You look up to see the bright blue-eyed man named Gojo. 

“Ugh, no get away.” You say while shoving him away. 

“Awe, come on.” He pouts at you. 

Sukuna frowns at seeing Gojo. “Get away from (y/n).” 

Gojo’s eyes flicker over to the brooding man. His arms were crossed as he glared at Gojo. 

An annoying smirk now sits on his face, “why? Scared I might take her away?” 

Sukuna’s hand slams down on the table, and your face twists disgustingly. 

“Oh my god.. You’re so embarrassing niisan.” You whisper to Gojo, but Sukuna hears it. 

The anger slowly dissipates from his body, and confusion fills his head. 

“Brother?” He mumbles. 

“What? I can’t protect my little sister?” 

While the two of you bicker, Sukuna glances back and forth. 

Gojo and you didn’t look alike. Not a single feature looked the same. Some things are similar, like the hyper personality… and the major sweet tooth. 

“Well, I got to go. Thanks.” Gojo says after taking a bite of one of your cakes. 

He gives you a smug look before waving bye. 

“Ugh,” You groan before turning to Sukuna, “I’m sorry about him.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me he was your brother?” 

You look at him in confusion, “I didn’t?” 

Sukuna gives you a look, “I think I would remember something like that.” 

“Huh, sorry. I guess it just slipped.” 

“How does something like that slip?” 

You purse your lips, “well whenever I’m not around him… I just seem to not worry about him. You know?” 

Sukuna looks at you, a bit confused, which means you will explain it further. 

“Satoru and I aren’t full siblings. Same mom but different dads. But Gojo has always been the golden child. Everything is about him. He always got everything he wanted, but me? I was lucky to even be in the same room as him.” You chuckle while shaking your head. 

“So, it’s nice not having him around. I can do whatever I want without him around.” 

Sukuna nods, “and have whatever you want as well.” 

You smile at his words, “Yeah. I guess you’re right.” 

Sukuna scoffs, “of course I’m right, woman.” 

You laugh and shake your head. “It wasn’t long ago that I discovered my love for sweets. I never got sweets as a child, since Satoru hogged them all.” 

Sukuna smiles at you and leans forward. He grabs a napkin, wiping some of the icing away from the corner of your lips, “that just means I’ll have to spoil you more than.” 

Your face turns pink at his words and actions. 

“I’ll hold you to that.”

[frecklystars]

Me cooking dinner for everyone (all my Ryan F/Os) Ken has to come by with another plate and I’m like “didn’t I just give you an entire burger” and Ken says yeah but he needs another because K took his food and then Luke says “yeah he ate my food too” and K is at the table in tears shoving spoonfuls of fresh veggies and meat in his mouth openly weeping “I’ve been eating nothing but instant protein-grub noodles and rice for my entire life Please just Let me Have This I Beg of You”

[atinysuh]

ateez and their favorite sex positions + explained

yunho, jongho: reverse cowgirl - ok hear me out, imagine yunho guiding the movements of your ass with his huge hand as you bounce on his dick while you look back over your shoulders to watch his expressions. he thinks its so hot to watch you performing on top of him that you almost can see the sparkles on his eyes. he usually let you ride him like this when he knows you had a long ass day at work or college or both and you need to take the stress out of you, so he offers his dick for you to do whatever you want because he just wanna make you feel good. on the other side… jongho also LOVES this position since he can watch your curves. his favorite body part on you is your thighs and the tattoos on it so every time he has the chance to see them bouncing on his cock he’ll take it. he’ll just relax his head on his hands and bite his lips while enjoying his girl. and you also love his thick thighs so you two are even. phew… he’s so fucking hot.

yeosang, mingi: you on top - yeosang loves leaving love bites on your neck and squeezing your waist while you ride him. out of all the girls he has dated in his life you’re definitely the only one who knows how to ride him RIGHT. because let’s be honest, my man’s got a big dick and you can take 100% of him and that’s one of the numerous reasons he fell in love with you at the first place. you kinda got the sauce. he also loves to feel your sweet vanilla cherry scent, he thinks is very sexy, so be careful because sometimes he can get drunk of you! he just place his face in the crook of your neck as you ride him and closes his eyes and stays there guiding your hips, like yunho, but in this case by the waist. okay and mingi… well, mingi is something else. he completely loves sucking on your nipples when you’re on top of him, hands on your ass spanking every now and then to remind you he’s the only one in the world who can bottom you out like that. he kinda asserts some dominance without even noticing and you can’t help it but call out his name every time you go up and down his dick. also, has a huge size kink.

san: BACKSHOTS - 6 words. on the way by jhené aiko. this song is SO choi san coded, every time i hear that “booty clapping from the backshots while we watch porn on the laptop” verse san’s the first person that comes to my mind. we all know he loves a big thick curvy ass that he can spank whenever he pleases. also “inhale the smoke while you stroke inside it” makes me literally malfunction since my biggest guilty pleasure is san getting high and passing the blunt to you while he breaks your back. if i could dedicate one song to one man it would be on the way to san because oh my god i could spend hours talking about this topic but imma stop before i pass out.

seonghwa: face off - we all know seonghwa’s the romantic type… but also the freak type. he likes it when you two are seated at the end of the bed or on the couch or even on the kitchen chair and have you like this, on top of him, facing him. as i said, when you’re fucking in the kitchen, for example, he usually put his elbow on the table behind him and expect you to ride his dick but sometimes it can get a little bit hard for you to keep a steady pace in this position so he loses his patience and quickly switch positions. you’re now laying on the kitchen counter. we also know he’s a worshipper, so he’ll make you feel so loved in his arms even tho he’s fucking the soul out of you. well, love and affection is something you’ll always receive when it comes to having a relationship with seonghwa whether is fwb, a date, a one night stand or a marriage… but he’ll also fuck you HARD and when i say hard i MEAN IT because we’re talking about a fucking aries here and as an aries myself i know exactly what goes on on his mind when it comes to sex.

hongjoong: missionary - still talking about zodiac signs, for those who don’t know, hongjoong’s a scorpio and girl let me tell you about scorpios… ma’am they are another type of freak, like, they literally invented freak, to me they are sex gods. and even tho this is a common sex position doesn’t mean hongjoong will make it ordinary. he’s very possessive so he wants to make sure that you know you’re HIS and his only and he does that by pinning both of your wrists with one hand while he chokes your neck with the other. sex with him is always pleasurable, he’ll satisfy you 200% of the time, overwhelm you even. but you can’t never get enough of him. also, he likes to hear it when you say that your pussy is his for him to please and your body is his for him to touch and that you belong to him. his moto is saying that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you because he couldn’t stand the thought of somebody else touching your body. i love hongjoong so much.

wooyoung: spoon - OK… i see wooyoung fucking you in a spoon position and it can be any type, with your leg up, down, kissing your neck, grabbing your breasts, chocking you, biting your lobe teasing you, but as long as it is in a spoon position. ooooh he loves the way you bite your bottom lip and do that crying expression with your eyebrows when you tell him to slow down and he just gives you a sassy smirk and says nothing but starts fucking you ROUGHER. you can barely open your eyes to look at his hungry eyes looking back at you because it’s rolling with pleasure. all you can do is whine and not even when he cums he’ll stop, he likes overstimulating you AND him.

[sunflowersteves]

kinktober day 003 — first bj

pairing || carmen berzatto x f!reader

summary || Carmen knew you were a bit inexperienced, so what better way than to show you how?

author’s note || first day of kinktober for me!! ❥ i hope you all enjoy as much as I did writing for carmen again. I haven't written anything in like,,, three months?? wowwow

warnings || fluff, inexperienced reader, SMUT, oral sex, blowjob, praise kink, [18+ only]

kinktober masterlist

Carmy could tell you were nervous.

There was something about the way that you looked out the window of the car. There was a certain shine in your eyes that didn’t really match the expression on your face.

He looked away from the road in a quick glance. A hand flew through his hair and his fingers only tangled the curls even more. He bites his lip as the endless amount of scenarios crowded into his brain.

What were you thinking? Were you thinking about him? Was it bad? Did he fuck something up at the restaurant?

His mind was only getting louder at the soft quiet sounds of the car continuing to roll onto the asphalt. He couldn’t take it much longer—especially as he took another glance at you.

He pulled the car over and shifted the gear into park.

“Carmy? What are you—”

He turned to stare at you, blue eyes entirely wide.

“Do you not like me?” He huffed out. “B-Because I wouldn’t mind, you know. Like-like I mean, I get it. I know I’m hard to like since I can’t really—”

His mouth snaps shut at the sound of your laughter bubbling up to the surface. You didn’t mean to laugh, but there was something comical about what he thought you were thinking and what you were actually thinking.

By the time you calm down, his cheeks has a tinge of pink. “That’s not what I’m thinking about, bear. Far from it.”

Oh.

Whew.

His right eyebrow furrows, then. “What were you thinking about?”

Now it was your turn to become shy, your mouth was left open in an attempt to explain. A wave of warmth washes over you as you thought of the scenes that played through your head.

“I—” You looked over at him as if to ask if you really had to tell him. With that gleam in his eyes, you knew you had to.

“I was imagining how your dick would taste.” You blurted out.

He stared at you in shock. His brain seemed to freeze in time. The sparkle in your eyes wasn’t that of melancholy, it was arousal.

His silence was starting to make you nervous. He was making you nervous. “B-But if you’re not comfortable with that then I totally understand. I- you know, I haven’t done a blowjob before so I understand and—let’s forget about it, okay? Let’s just—”

Your rambling becomes interrupted when his lips crashed against yours. Your hands tangled themselves into his fluffy hair. His arms pulled you forward to the middle of the console—as close to him as he could.

“Fuck,” he breathes out against your lips. His lips can’t help put follow yours into another searing kiss. He was definitely addicted. “Sweet, sweet girl. You were just desperate, huh?”

You nodded. He couldn’t help but kiss you again and again. He had never felt so loved before. “Pretty girl.” He whispered against your lips.

As he separated the kiss, you stared into his eyes. They were almost black—a stark contrast from the bright blue that you know so well. His pupils were large and the way he licked his lips seemed to acknowledge that he wanted to devour you.

Carmen swiftly unbuckles his belt and shimmies off his restaurant slacks. His cock throbs at the cool air that rushes against him.

You, on the other hand, can’t stop staring. You’ll never stop staring.

You looked at the sheer girth of his cock—the way it swells against his palm. Your mouth watered by the pre-cum that sprouted against the tip. The vein on the side of his cock was prominent, gleaming near the tip.

You never noticed Carmy staring at you in awe. “You’re going to be the death of me, baby. Fucking god—”

Anxiety started to cloud your mind a bit. You wanted so desperately to please your pretty boyfriend. “But, Carmen, what if it doesn’t feel good for you?”

He almost wanted to laugh, but he’s glad he stopped himself. You were it for him. The person that he confides in, that he leans onto, and not to mention that he gets a boner from just by walking by him.

You were the one person in the entire world that he could never get tired of. To him, the idea of your mouth on his cock and it wouldn’t feel good? That’ll be when pigs fly.

“I’ll tell you what to do, okay? I’ve got you, baby.”

You smile at him as the weight on your shoulder lifts. It’s just carmy—your carmy.

You didn’t want to wait anymore precious time, so you rested your elbows against the console, leaning as close to him as possible.

He pressed a few kisses to your cheek and temple, letting you know to take your time. You didn’t want to, though.

“You’re so big, Carmy.” You whined. He could feel his cock jump at the way your mouth seemed to water. He watched you with hazed eyes as you gently licked the tip. He moaned at the warm feeling of your tongue.

“Fuck, please do more, sweet girl.”

His begging had only spurred you on. You could feel the way your underwear became wetter by the second. You take him him fully inside of your mouth, suctioning your mouth on his member.

“Swirl your tongue, baby—yeah, fuck.” You do exactly as he says, all while bobbing your head up and down. “Such a good girl.”

You weren’t even halfway on his cock, but he didn’t care. He’ll eventually train your throat, but for now? For now, he’s relishing in the way your mouth feels and how an inch of your touch is sending him into a spiral.

He moaned and groaned at the feeling of your mouth on his tip. The way your spit gave just enough lubricant to send his eyes rolling back into his head. “You sure you’ve never done this before, baby?” He slurred. “‘Cause fuck me—”

Your eyes flicker to his as you try to take him even further. His hips accidentally stutter into your mouth at the slick, wet feeling of your mouth.

“Holy, fuck—shit—you wanna take my whole cock, huh? You want to fit it all?”

You weren’t able to answer him, so he pushes your head off of cock and makes you look into his eyes.

The desperation leaks from his voice. “I need—I need you to say it, baby. I need you to say how much you want my cock.”

Your messy, swollen lips parted. You’re completely out of breath, but you don’t care—not with that glossy look in your eyes.

“Please, carmy. I wanna suck your cock so bad. I-I want to take all of it, please.”

Carmen could only groan and whimper from the way that you begged. It was sweet and sultry—he thought he might explode. “You make me fucking crazy, sweet girl. I’m already about to fucking cum.” You press slow kisses into his cock, accentuating your lips onto his sensitive areas.

You let out a loud whine as he gently pulls your head away from his cock. You wanted to have your mouth full of him again and to take that from you?

He soothed your desperate cries with a sweet kiss. His gentle lips fell right on top of yours—his mind savoring the moment.

“Want to cum in your mouth, baby. Is that okay?”

Your mouth opens almost automatically from the pure, raw arousal that yourcbody is radiating. “Please, carmy.”

He quickly moves his seat all the way back, making that extra room for you. Your mouth is directly below his cock, waiting for the salty substance.

He wraps his hand around his member, slowly pumping his swollen cock. “You look so fucking gorgeous like that, you know that? Fucking shit, I can’t stop looking at you.”

You smiled brightly up at him. You then started to open your mouth as wide as you could. “Cum in my mouth, Carmy. I need it.”

He continues pumping over and over, the whimpers he lets out are the only sound you seem to hear. You want to hear it more.

“Fuck, baby—shit—” He spills his cum into your mouth, forever and ever it seemed to leak onto your lips.

Some of it had even spurted on the outside of your mouth. His eyes widened as he watched the way you took every drop on your finger and licked it right off.

“Are you real?” He asks, dreamily looking at you.

You laugh. You pressed a gentle hand onto his cheek. “I’m real. Are you?”

He smiles down at you. “Yeah, I’m real.”

He moves his seat up and you both transition back to your seats. You wiped your mouth, just as Carmen finished buttoning up his pants.

“Ready to go home, baby?” His hand finds yours.

You smiled. Home sounded nice. Home sounded nice with him.

“Yeah, bear. Let’s go home.”

[sometimesanalice]

Give Me Your Hand {Here Is My Heart}

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

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 8K+

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

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

“Well, are you coming?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Bradley has the best personality.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And if I want everything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are easily the prettiest thing in his room.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sayin’ you want a show, kid?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How am I doing?” he drawls knowingly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was going to give you whatever you wanted.

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

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

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

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

It looks as good as the rest of him does.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, I believe it,” you beamed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good, I’d hope so. Now, show me.”

Show me. Show me. Show me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bradley.”

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

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

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

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

The tattoo.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Uh, yeah, I definitely do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It hadn’t and he never forgot about it.

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

And now he finally knew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re already so wet for him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yes. There. More. Just like that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Because he is the one making you feel this good.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I go down on you?”

Your mouth would be the end of him.

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

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

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

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

“Already planning for round two, huh?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“If you want,” he offers softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Slowly, gently, deliberately.

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

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

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

“Want you to keep your eyes on me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So good, it’s so good, Bradley.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He couldn’t wait to find out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

bradleybradleybradley

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bradley,” he murmurs looking at you softly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There’s so much to look forward to.

More of Bradley, more with Bradley. 

The two of you are perfectly and exactly on time.

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

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

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

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

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

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

[gurugirl]

Jewel | stepdad!harry

Summary: You get a tongue piercing and Harry wants to test it out.

A/N: Based on this idea!

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning: 18+ only, smut, inappropriate relationship between a stepdad and stepdaughter, cheating, lying, degradation, 'cum' play

stepdad!harry masterlist

"Why'd you get that?"

"Cause I felt like it."

"You look like a slut."

"Oh yeah? You like it, Daddy?"

Harry grasped your cheeks and smushed so you were forced to keep your mouth open. He inspected the inside of your mouth, pushing his finger over your tongue and the small delicate jeweled piercing right at the center.

You’d been wanting to get a tongue piercing and you finally worked up the nerve to do it. Harry hadn’t seen it yet because you’d been away at school but you knew that once he did he’d flip out a little.

“You look stupid.”

You chuckled and reached for Harry’s forearm to pull his finger further into your mouth as you wrapped your lips around his digit, licking the pad of his finger and then flicking the smooth jewel against his hand. You sucked and then grinned at him innocently with his finger still in your mouth.

“Harry, will you open the oven door? I’ve got my hands full,” your mom suddenly caught you both off guard. Harry yanked his finger from your mouth and jogged into the kitchen to help her so she could stick the roast into the oven.

You leaned into the hallway wall and closed your eyes. That was a close call.

Dinner had Harry eyeing you closely. You knew he was curious about your new piece of jewelry. You could see the gears turning in his head.

“I signed up to win this vacation to Quebec. God, wouldn’t that be so cool if I won? Everything is paid for too. Well, the basics… Anyway…”

Your mom talked about her dream vacation away. She needed a vacation, you knew that. Everyone did. She worked all the time and yet she still made dinner on her rare nights off and did it all with a smile.

You licked your lips and looked up from your plate to plant your gaze on Harry’s. He was already looking at you so you stuck your tongue out quickly and then grinned before taking another bite of your meal.

Harry shook his head slowly and then spoke, “A vacation in Quebec huh? Why don’t you just take off for a week and you and I can go. It’s not like we can’t afford it.”

“I mean, in all honesty? I might just do that if I don’t win…”

You frowned at Harry for saying that in front of you. That was a dick move. You were just teasing him with a piercing but his retaliation to suggest that just the two of them go on vacation together? You knew your upset and jealousy was irrational. Harry was married to your mother. Not to you.

“I’m suddenly sick to my stomach. I’m gonna,” you stood from the table, “call it a night.”

Your mom put her fork down and stood to give you a side hug, “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Sorry. I think it’s too much wine. Too acidic or something,” you swallowed as you lied.

You were happy to get away from that conversation. A conversation you had no right being upset by. To really put things into perspective, you often imagined how your mother would feel if she ever knew half of what you and Harry had gotten up to when she wasn’t around. That usually pulled you right back down to earth.

And here you were upset by a mere comment. You hated the situation but you couldn’t stop it. You didn’t want to stop it.

Your mother knocked at your door before opening it and looking in, “Hi baby, are you feeling okay?”

You were on your bed in your oversized pajamas leaning against your pillows, “I’m better now. Thank you, mom.”

You turned your attention back to the episode of Seinfeld you were watching on your laptop. You should have been doing homework. You had a paper due on Monday that you’d barely even begun.

You sighed as you closed your laptop and turned off your lamp. Tomorrow you’d get to your paper.

Before you’d even fallen asleep you heard your door opening and smiled to yourself. It was Harry coming in to see you. Every time he snuck into your room when your mother was around it made you feel special. Made you feel like he preferred you.

“Sleeping already?” Harry whispered quietly as he climbed up behind you on your bed and put his arm over your middle.

You inhaled deeply and yawned. If he’d come in a few minutes later you would have been sleeping. “Almost,” you spoke after you finished yawning.

Harry slowly moved a hand up, grazing over your tits, up to your clavicle, over your neck and then he stopped at your mouth, pressing two fingers inside, “S’this why you have this? Cause you want me to play with it? Want to take on my cock and slide this against my balls when I have you pressed down so hard you’re choking?”

You moaned and felt yourself falling into that soft simpery place as his nails scraped the back of your throat gently.

“Hmm? My little slut likes to be used so I’m gonna use her tonight. Isn’t that what you wanted, Y/n?”

You nodded into Harry’s palm as you gagged slightly at how deep his middle finger was, “Yes, Daddy.” You spoke around his finger and heard him laughing softly at your pathetic attempt to answer him.

Suddenly he yanked down your pajama pants, exposing your bottom, and kicked the sheets down. You yelped as he pushed your face into your pillow, his hand at the back of your neck roughly keeping you in place. He landed a swat onto your bottom and then another three in quick succession which had you gasping.

He pulled your hands behind your back with his free hand and then he leaned over you as he spoke quietly, “Turn your head to the side and stick out your tongue.”

You did as he said and he released your neck and then pulled at your bent elbows to lift you up, “Turn and face me.”

You kept your arms behind your back and your tongue out as you scooted yourself around to face Harry and then sat back on your haunches as you watched him pull his sweatpants down and bring his cock out. He stroked himself slowly as he lifted his free hand and stuck it in your mouth, feeling over the jewelry once again.

You were quite happy that he seemed so excited by it. He didn’t admit he liked it but you didn’t need him to.

You shot your gaze from his dark eyes to where he was pumping himself, slowly getting himself hard for you.

“Spit,” he said as he pulled his fingers from your mouth and held his palm out.

You spat into his hand, keeping your eyes on his in the dark room, and watched as he brought his saliva-coated palm to his cock.

You swallowed and could hear puffs of breath fall from his mouth as he fucked his fist, “Take your top off. This is gonna be messy.”

You brought your hands down to the bottom hem of your shirt and pulled it off over your head before putting your arms back behind yourself.

He smiled and you could hear the slick sound of your saliva coating his cock as he stroked.

Harry released his hard dick and pulled his own shirt off before grabbing you by your neck and pushing you back into your pillows, “Keep your hands behind your back,” he growled as he crawled up over you and then smushed your cheeks again, “Gonna fuck your throat now.”

And god there was something about Harry ramming his cock into your mouth and the moans he would make that got you wet instantly. Sure it was uncomfortable having a big long dick sliding in and out of your throat but you loved it. Loved the way it made you feel like nothing. Like just a toy or a piece of garbage maybe. Somedays you did feel like a piece of garbage. Especially because your affair with your stepdad was an awful thing to do to your mother. So you deserved discomfort and to be used and fucked however he wanted.

You gurgled as you tried to keep your eyes on Harry but when he stuffed himself in fully and your nose was pressed into the base of cock you slid your tongue out along his balls and heard him whine. He grasped your head and held you in place, “That’s right. Taste my balls and run that little slut tongue all over… fuck…” Harry breathed out a moan as drool escaped the edges of your mouth.

He finally backed out to give you a breath before pushing his tip back into your mouth, “Let’s feel it then. Lick my cock and let me see if you’re any good with that stupid thing,” he gritted.

You swirled your tongue over his frenulum and then down along his shaft as you kept your eyes on his. You lifted your neck so you could take him deeper but he pushed your forehead so you’d stay down, “Uh, uh… Didn’t say you could move. Told you to lick my cock.”

The tase of his precome coated your mouth as you licked his tip and along the edge of this shaft where you could reach without lifting up. You sucked gently, wrapping your lips around him and brushing your tongue against him, making sure to press the jewel into his sensitive skin.

His groans told you he liked it but suddenly he pulled himself out and held you down by the front of your neck and leaned over you, his cock laying over your belly button. He spat down into your mouth, “Don’t swallow.”

Pushing his thick cock back into your mouth you had to squeeze your eyes closed with the way he was grinding into you. You could only hear your gags and the slick noises of Harry’s cock being guided harshly into your throat repeatedly.

“Holy!” Harry gasped out and then slid his long cock out of your mouth and slowly off your tongue to catch his breath.

His chest was heaving as you looked up at him from his position over you. Your eyes were blurry but you could tell he’d almost come just then. He repositioned himself between your legs and pushed your thighs into your chest. He dipped a finger into your entrance, “Can’t believe you get wet from that. So fucking desperate for anything I give you.” He slapped your thigh and you moaned.

You wondered how loud things sounded outside of your door. The sound of skin getting slapped with a spank along with the moans had to have been loud. But then another swat was issued to your pussy and you gasped, titling your neck up to look at Harry between your legs.

He was stroking his cock when he looked up at you and then angled himself over your body before pressing his cock into your pussy, “Gotta admit…” he panted his words, “Your pussy is too good not to use. Fuck you’re so creamy and dirty. Shit…” he pulled back and then plunged himself back in, dipping into your tummy and gliding over your g-spot with each thrust.

“Please give me your come, daddy…” you pleaded as Harry began to tremble and moan between gasps. You loved that your body made him react that way.

Harry grunted as he rocked into you deeply a few more times, your mattress bouncing under your back. He suddenly pulled out, releasing your legs, and crawled up to aim his cock at your face. You felt his warm spurts of come squirt into your mouth, where you stuck your tongue out to taste and then he groaned as he kept stroking himself, coming on your neck and your tits and down to your tummy. He’d covered you in his orgasm, making a mess just like he said he would.

“You’re my filthy slut, aren’t you?” He grasped your cheeks again, still stroking himself to milk the last drops from his shaft. You tried to nod but his grip was tight.

He let out an incredulous laugh before spitting into your mouth again.

You felt like a puddle after he’d used you like that. Not even coming in your hole but wasting all his seed on your skin instead. It was dirty and rude. You loved it.

You lay prone with a smile as Harry got up from the bed.

When he turned back to look at you after he’d pulled his sweatpants back on his eyes went wide as he stood and watched you smear his come onto your palm and rubbed your clit with it then used your other fingers to push gobs of his release inside of your pussy.

Harry grinned and leaned down to kiss you, despite the mess on your face. He parted from the kiss but kept his face close to yours as he whispered, “Have fun with your little present. Don’t want you to leave this room until you’ve eaten all my come or stuffed it into your pussy just like you’re doing. Understood?”

“Yes, daddy. I won’t let it go to waste.”

 Harry smirked as he stood up and slid his shirt on. He watched you for a moment longer before he had to drag himself away from the dirty scene with you scooping up his come and pushing it into your tight hole as you moaned. You were all shiny with his orgasm as you bucked your hips into your sticky palm.

He would have loved to stay and watch but he couldn’t waste too much more time just in case his wife woke up. Perhaps next time he’d indulge in watching you masturbate with his come.

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[luvring]

PHOTO OF YOU

suna x gn!reader | rin comes home and sees the new photo of him you've gotten

note from nia: if anyone does another character w my idea i am humbly asking u to tag me because i think it's fun and silly

“what the hell is that?”

“what do you mean?”

“i mean why is my face on the back of your phone?” suna asks, laughing in disbelief.

you turn your phone to look at its back with the photo of him sitting in a pink photo holder. he’s mid-laugh, head resting on your lap, and plushie under his chin. your aforementioned boyfriend stands above your spot curled up on the couch, and waits with a tilted head for an explanation. “you don’t like it? it’s a photocard.”

“it—” he snorts before reaching for your phone to inspect it. you hand it over and his lips twitch into a smile. “am i a k-idol now?”

“maybe. you tell me.” you shrug. rin carefully takes off your phone case to look at himself, even moving so the light from outside would give him a better view. you gesture to the photocard with an accomplished grin. “i even got a sleeve and decorated it.”

“mhm, i see that, baby,” he replies breathily. you watch as he rubs the different stickers and tilts the holder, letting the sparkly stickers reflect back at him. if he had passed your desk he would have seen the sticker sheets you bought specifically for this, alongside the different layouts you had planned out. “where’d you even get this printed?” he asks.

“i have my ways.”

rin shakes his head, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek before looking at you. “no, i need to know so i can print one of you.”

“what?” he only continues to look at you, a smile growing on his face.

you squint at him in return. "rintarou." he bends down to place your phone and photo on the coffee table, then moves to join you on the couch. if there was something you knew about suna rintarou, it was that he’d always, always go through with a bit. if you didn’t stop him now, he’d start ordering photocards of you and pretend to unbox them, saying something about always managing to pull the rarest ones.

you groan at the new weight on top of you as he shifts to lie down properly. “rin, oh my god, you’re going to smush to me. and also no way are you getting one.”

he hums and wraps his arms around your waist, close enough that you can feel the warmth of his laugh against your skin. “why not? i want a photocard of you.”

“no, you don’t deserve my photocard.”

“but we could match, babe. don't you think we’d be cute? i could decorate my sleeve, too.” rin looks up at you with an exaggerated pout. you pinch his cheek and snicker at his unamused frown. “no, you’d pick an awful photo and i’d have to kill you out of principle.”

“uh-huh, just don’t get blood on my picture then,”—he turns his head to bite onto your finger and grins as you pull it away—“it’ll be the one and only copy, worth your rent in just a year.”

“so you admit you’d pick a terrible photo?”

“no, i’d pick a good one,” he says plainly. the look you give him is so obviously mistrusting that rin laughs loudly. he shifts up to plant a kiss to your jaw and counters softly, “i would, it’d be the one i have as my lockscreen. promise.”

his lockscreen had been the same photo of you for months; it was a selfie you had taken on his phone, close up and face smushed against his pillow. the first time you asked about it, rin had told you he’d look at it when he was away and didn’t want to wake you, and imagined you were there beside him.

he looks at you expectantly, waiting for approval. your own expression softens and after a second, you sigh. “god. yeah, okay. i can’t believe we’re going to have photocards of each other.”

“seriously? you did it first.”

“as a joke, and you’re going with it.”

“yeah, ‘cause you’re cute and i love you.” you stutter and he smirks, deciding to give you the small mercy of not commenting on it. “i’m gonna print a bunch and start a collection, y’know.”

the idea makes you groan. “can you just make your own and sell them so we can be rich?”

you feel his laugh before getting his agreement. “i can do both of those things. i'll even get the team on board and spoil you with our incredible profit.”

“oh, wow. will i get credit?”

“yeah. something, something copyright law or whatever.” you're 100% sure that was bullshit, but hum despite it. “m’kay. that’s the plan, then.”

and you think that’s the end of it, and quietly ask rin to hand you your phone again. even if it was as a joke, you spent more time on decorating the sleeve than expected and wanted it back in your case. he manages to grab and pass it to you but the sight of himself gets rin's mind on his own photocard again. he looks at you sheepishly. “...can i seriously take your stuff to decorate the card sleeve, though?”

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt

[pedrito-friskito]

disobedient - miguel o’hara x fem!reader (spidersona)

do you get off on disobeying me?

a/n: I regret fuck all folks. part 1 of 2 (no clue when part 2 will happen but it will). special shouts to @psychedelic-ink, @inklore, and @splendiferous-bitch for feeding my miguel obsession and being the best ❤️‍🔥

word count: 6.5k

warnings: oh mama. sex pollen, unprotected p-in-v, rough sex, desperate miguel, multiple orgasms, in a shocking twist a whole lotta exposition cuz I gotta make the fucking make sense, y’know?

✨@friskito-library for new works✨

You’re not supposed to do this.

You’re not supposed to be here, period, but the notion hasn’t stopped you thus far. It’s just gonna make him more pissed off than he normally is, but pissing Miguel O’Hara off has quickly climbed to the top of your list of talents, and you’re content to continue doing as you please.

Especially if it means he’ll keep glowering at you with those eyes of his.

+

It threw you off initially — him, in general. Unfairly large, all rippling muscle and too-tiny waist, the hip-to-shoulder ratio of a Dorito chip and retractable claws you’ve seen more than once now. Not to mention an ass that looks like it was sculpted by a god. But it was the eyes that caught your attention, when you caught him glowering at you from a shadowy corner, like a predator hunting its prey.

“You gonna keep gawking,” you’d asked, “or come say hello like a normal person?”

Neither of you fit that category — normal people, boring — and he’d ignored your quip, actually growling at you as he stalked out of the shadows and brushed past you, bumping your shoulder in the process, and your brow had lifted at the way his suit seemed to ripple with the impact, forming and reforming against his skin. You saw it all, thanks to your spider-tacular vision, and your next thought after I want to sink my teeth into that ass, was I need to get my hands on that fabric.

Six months later, and no dice. You’ve been bouncing between Earth 928 and whatever dimension suits your fancy since Miguel first brought you here. How you convinced him to hand over one of his fancy bracelets, you’ll never truly know, but you have a distinct feeling the nature of your first meeting was what prompted him to give you access to the multi-verse — along with a slew of rules you more often than not turned your nose up at.

It also probably has something to do with the fact that you didn’t leave Nueva York for the first month. You holed up in the room he provided, ate the food he left by the door, and slept your days away, ignoring the too-bright world outside the windows, content to waste away to nothing. You couldn’t go home, what did it matter anyway?

Enter Miguel O’Hara and his incredibly bite-able ass.

When he first found you on the rooftop, cornered you near the fire escape, you’d gone snarky, despite the rumble in your bones, the betrayal that had cut you to the core, the looming fact that shit had just hit the fan and nothing was ever going to be the same again. 

And then Mister Grumpy steps through a fucking portal and tells you he can save you. He can’t fix what happened, but he can take you somewhere they won’t find you again, a haven of sorts. For a moment, you reeled — how could you know for sure that you could trust him? You almost asked him as much, but then the blanket of realization swept over you: there was nothing left for you on Earth 374. The spider on his chest was clue enough that you were on the right track. Sure, his was bright red on dark blue, whereas your own was navy against slate grey, but the similarities were close enough, namely the giant fucking spider.

The door to the rooftop had jiggled and Miguel swept a hand out, shooting webbing at the handle, keeping it shut. “Clock’s ticking, princesa,” he told you, the nickname said almost tauntingly. “Offer’s about to expire.”

You knew there had to be other spider-people out there in the universe, you just hadn’t imagined them to be so…large.

Or demanding, you’d learn later. Or asshole-ish. Sigh.

“Get me the fuck outta here,” you answered, and that was that. You were standing in his lab in Nueva York a moment later, and the jolt of multi-dimensional travel had you puking your guts all over the glossy floor. Faintly, you’d heard Miguel’s grunt of disdain.

“Lyla, get someone to clean this up,” he said, and his hand curled around your arm a moment later, hauling you to your feet like a rag doll. “You’ll get used to it,” he told you. “The jumping. I did the same thing after my first time.”

You were too out of it to know if he was actually being nice, or if the subtle lift to the corner of his mouth was just amusement at your expense.

“Yeah, well, warn a girl next time, would you?”

But you did get used to it. Once you managed to get your ass out of bed and back into your suit, you were soon away from the Spider Society more than you were there. For the first couple weeks, Miguel hadn’t said a word, apparently content to let you go where you pleased, barely questioning you when you deigned to return. Then, it was like a switch was flipped, and he was up your ass — and not in a fun, sexy way. He wanted reports on each of your jumps, timelines and activity breakdowns. He wanted lists of targets, reasons behind them, background checks. All things you knew he could easily get himself, but you also didn’t have the guts to tell him that since he’d saved you from Earth 374, you hadn’t actually…helped…anyone.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. Your first solo jump you’d managed to find a few bank robberies and a mugging happening within a few blocks of each other. Clearly, you’d picked a gem of a universe, and while you’d managed to web up the bandits in the vault, something in you had frozen when you tried to track down the mugger. The scene unfolded on the street below and you just…shut down.

The rest of your trips were spent just exploring. You swung your way through cities, camped out on rooftops, just watching the normal people go about their lives down below. You noted the differences between that universe and your own, tried to remember where all the puzzle pieces fit, even though you were looking at a different picture.

And it’s that curiosity, that quiet desperation to know more, that has you padding out of your room in the Spider Society tower, overriding the elevator that’ll take you up to Miguel’s lab. His currently empty lab. The man himself has been away on a scouting mission for nearly forty-eight hours, and you’re not expecting him back for another twenty-four, which gives you more than enough time to satisfy that annoying voice in the back of your head that wants to know how they’re doing.

It’s late. The world outside the tower is dark, the sky an inky black, streaked with light shades, dotted with stars. You’d be a fool not to find Earth 928 and Nueva York beautiful in their own strange, overly modern ways, but even six months in, it’s hard to think of it as home.

But you know why. It’s because it’s not. 

You’d lasted a few days before you started glitching, and being cooped up in your room, you assumed you’d be able to hide it from Miguel. Part of you feared that if he knew something was wrong with you, he’d send you back to 374, and then what would happen to you?

You went to sleep worrying it over in your mind, and woke up to a complicated-looking watch sitting on the nightstand beside your bed. A hastily scrawled note stuck to it.

Put it on. It’ll help.

As soon as you did, the device beeped to life, a holographic screen jumping up, telling you the date and time and a myriad of other pieces of information. And then—

“Hiya, toots! I’m Lyla.”

You were confused as hell by the AI at first, but you quickly realized how useful she was, even more knowledgeable than Miguel, not that she’d ever admit it. And, in all honesty, you were a fan of the gab sessions. When Miguel wasn’t working her overtime, she’d beep her way through your watch for a good chat, perch herself on your pillow in the days you were still a shut-in, and when you started to make your way through the multi-verse, she was quick to point out the must-sees wherever you were.

She ran out quickly when she realized you were visiting the same place, just a different universe.

+

The doors to Miguel’s lab whoosh open at your approach, bare feet padding along the glass floor, and as you pause, getting yourself a cup of coffee from the forever-full carafe he keeps far away from the supercomputer, your watch pings to life, and the AI herself glitters into existence.

“What d’you think you’re doing?”

You ignore her at first, fixing your coffee the way you like it, flicking the stir stick into the trash before bringing the cup to your lips. It’s not until you start toward the computer and the large platform that houses it, that you answer her.

“Nothin’.”

She groans. “That’s a load of shit and we both know it.”

“He’s not here,” you say, shrugging a shoulder as you step onto the platform. The screens hum to life as you drag one hand across the infrared keyboard and when you glance over your shoulder, Lyla’s staring at you over the top of her heart-shaped glasses. “What he won’t know won’t hurt him.”

“And you really think doing exactly what he told you not to do is the best idea?”

You sigh, sipping your coffee as you sink into the chair, rolling yourself close to the computers. Miguel rarely uses the chair, apparently content to just stand and stare all broodingly at the screens. You only watched him — caught him — do this once, but when you caught on to what was happening, you filed the information away. He’d given you hell for snooping around, though you teased that he was just pissed you’d managed to sneak up on him, and according to Lyla, nobody does that.

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you pause. He did tell you, rather specifically, not to do what you’re about to do. He didn’t tell you why, wouldn’t give an inch when you pressed him, but he was firm.

No good will come of it.

+

Earth 473. Not an identical twin to your home universe, but a very close sibling. The differences were so small, so scarce, that you truly thought you’d stumbled back to 374 accidentally, and you’d nearly jumped back to Nueva York, heart in your throat. But then something caught your eye, and you froze.

Across the way, teetering at the edge of the rooftop, was Spider-Man.

His suit was the opposite of yours, the spider grey and the suit navy. You could feel him staring right back at you, even at the distance, and as you stared back, he lifted his hand. For a moment you thought he might wave, your own fingers twitching to return the gesture, but then it continued up, gripping the back of his mask and yanking it from his bed.

You saw his mouth form the words, heard them like a whisper in the air.

“You’re alive.”

Your frozen heart dropped into your toes.

It was Peter. Your Peter, the one you’d left behind on Earth 374, your best friend, the one who…who…

You didn’t have it in you to finish the thought. It was all the evidence you needed to know that this universe was not yours. You were the only Spider-Person on 374, and your Peter wasn’t…he couldn’t…

You’d stumbled backward, blindly grabbing for your watch, suddenly desperate to be back in the SS tower. But then you paused, your fingers twitching on the dials and digits.

And you almost went exactly where you weren’t supposed to. Like a reflex. Shaking yourself, you punched in 928, everything in you twisting and turning as you stepped through the portal.

Miguel was waiting. He’d been watching you, paying close attention to that particular jump, and had used the link through your watch to see what you saw. The opposite-but-mirror image on the rooftop.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said, his voice low, that deep timbre that still managed to catch you off guard. “The multi-verse doesn’t work that way.”

“You have no idea what I’m thinking,” you spat back, shrugging off his hand when he tried to grab your arm. “You have no idea what I’m feeling.”

His face had gone feral. Those carmine eyes flaring, staring down his nose at you while you just stared right back, defiant. You went to step past him, and he caught you again, this time his longer fingers wrapping around your forearm, the tell-tale prick of his talons biting through your suit.

“I know a fuck load more than you seem to think,” he snarled, dragging you close to he was in your face. “In case you forgot, I’ve been at this a hell of a lot longer than you have, and what you saw out there, what it means to you, I know exactly where your mind went. And I am telling you: the multi-verse does not work like that.”

“What am I thinking?” you spat back, ignoring the pinpricks of pain that shot through your arm as you got even closer, leaning up on your toes. “If you’re so fucking knowledgeable, tell me.”

He released you, then. The pain in your arm dissipated as quickly as it had come, and his eyes went…soft. Thoughtful.

Sympathetic.

“You’re thinking,” he started, inhaling deeply, rubbing two fingers between his brows as he spoke, “that you could go back there, to 473, and make a life for yourself. The same family, the same friends, the same life. They lost their version of you, so why not fill her shoes? Find some semi-logical explanation, hide your powers, live your life. Am I close?”

You almost stumbled backward, the truth of his words sending you reeling. You bumped into his desk instead, knocking a cup of coffee over, and neither of you said a word as the dark liquid spread across the desktop, dripping off the edge and onto the floor.

Miguel took a half-step toward you, then turned slightly, looking over the curve of his shoulder at you. Something in you longed to press your forehead against his frame, search for some kind of support, but you stayed stuck still.

“I know,” he continued, turning his head, staring straight ahead, “because I did exactly the same thing. And I lost everything.”

+

His words echo through your mind now, the deep tone you’ve gotten very familiar with, and you shake your head, clearing away the cobwebs he’s left in your head. “This is different,” you say aloud, partially to Lyla, partially to yourself. “I’m not going there, I’m just…checking in.”

The AI rolls her eyes at you and snaps her gum. “I said it once and I’ll say it again: load of shit.”

Your fingers fly over the keyboard, typing in the codes to find what you’re looking for. You haven’t been back to 473 since that jump; Miguel had forbade it after your spat, and even went so far as to block your watch from taking you there. You thought he was being unreasonable, and he reiterated that he was actually trying to keep you safe.

No good will come of it.

You hit the final key, and the images start to fade in. You can just barely make out the shape of her — of you — when the screens go black. Your breath catches in your throat as a large hand comes down on your shoulder, gripping tightly, though you don’t feel the pricks of his talons.

“Do you get off on disobeying me?”

The words are almost a purr, the opposite of the tone you’re expecting, and from the corner of your eye, you see Lyla blip from existence. It makes goosebumps rise on your skin, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as he leans in, hot breath on your ear.

“If I make you cum, will that make you more obedient? Hm?”

“What the fu—” you start, trying to whirl around, but his grip on you is solid, warm palm following the curve of your shoulder until his fingers are wrapping themselves around your throat. It’s a welcome weight, sparks of electricity shooting down your limbs, your thighs rubbing together to relieve the instant pressure. “Mmm.”

His thumb presses down on your racing pulse, and you’re suddenly aware of how warm he is. He’s…too warm. But you have to admit, the way he’s holding you…it’s nice. Really nice.

“Miguel,” you start, trying to turn again, but he fits his face into the bare side of your neck, lips grazing the thin skin. “You’re not supposed to be back yet.”

“Mission went south,” he mumbles against you, his tongue darting past his lips and dragging along your skin. It makes your eyes roll back, but…

Where is this coming from?

He should be furious with you. He caught you red-handed, no questions about it. You weren’t expecting him to find you in the first place, but now that he has, you’re expecting a screaming match, toddler-level foot-stomping and possibly being thrown over his ridiculously large shoulder and being tossed into your room like a rag doll. Locked up like Rapunzel until you start listening to his brand of reasoning. You’re expecting a blowout.

You’re not expecting this.

He huffs in your ear as his lips graze the sensitive skin beneath it, his words spoken into the shell, tongue catching on your earring. “You smell delicious, cariño.”

The pet name makes you shiver. “Mig,” you say again, your hand covering his as his other arm wraps around your middle, pulling you back against his chest. “What are you doing?”

His heart is racing, so hard that you can feel the heavy thump of it against your spine. It’s too fast, even for him, you know that much. His fingers curl against your stomach, talons poking out and shredding your shirt to strips. You gasp as the fabric falls away.

“Miguel.” You make your voice as stern as possible. It’s not that you don’t want him to touch you like this, it just seems so sudden, so out of character, and you—

He wrenches himself away from you, the heady warmth of him suddenly gone, and you whirl, hand flying up to grip your neck as the sound of him crashing into the wall reaches your ears. His fingers are leaving indents in the metal, talons scratching deep, and you gulp as you realize you’re lucky he didn’t just accidentally slit your throat.

Whatever’s happening, he’s not himself.

“Mig,” you call, wiping your bloody hand on your sweats, crossing the distance he’s put between you. “Would you just talk t—”

“NO!” he roars, throwing a hand out in front of himself. You can see his large frame shake as he sinks down against the wall, long tears in the metal forming in his wake. “Keep your distance.”

Your brow lifts. “Says the man who was literally crawling up my ass three seconds ago.” You ignore him, taking another step, ignoring the way his words ring through your head. Do you get off on disobeying me?

Yeah…maybe you do. Just a little bit.

You crouch down low, getting on his level. “Mig, tell me what happened.”

“Don’t call me that,” he spits, staring you down for a moment before forcing his head to the side, an action that looks like it takes a lot of effort. “Just…go to your room, leave me be.”

“You telling me not to call you that just makes me wanna call you that more.” You shift onto your knees, inching a little closer. “I can’t leave you be, not when you just put a bunch of holes in the wall,” you lift your hand to your throat, where the scratches he left are already almost gone, “and almost in me. Tell me what happened.”

He tilts his head back against the wall, still turned away from you, one crimson eye looking your way. “Mierda, you’re stubborn.”

You roll your eyes. “Like you didn’t know that already. Talk.”

“Earth 1365-7,” he starts, eyes fluttering shut. His eyelashes are unfair, you think to yourself, the way they fan out across his even more unfair cheekbones. “I ended up in their version of OSCORP, some testing centre. Different serums and gases and…they were trying to weaponize a kind of paralytic that’s found in certain spider venom.”

His tongue pokes out after he says the word venom, tracing the tips of his fangs, and you swallow hard.

Bite me, bite me, bite me.

You shake your head, silencing the thought.

“And you stopped them?” you prompt, when he doesn’t go further, instead inhaling deeply and scrubbing a hand down his face.

“I did,” he tells you, but there’s no trace of triumph in his voice or on his face. “But I stumbled into one of the other labs, and as soon as I did…” He trails off, body shifting against the floor, and it’s impossible to miss the ripple in his skin-tight suit, the way he props one knee up, blocking your view of his crotch. “It was some sort of plant that they’d been researching. The pollen, it raises a person’s heart rate, skyrockets it, and muddles their senses. If left untreated, it can kill them.”

You stare at him hard. “What’s the treatment, Miguel?”

“The side effects,” he continues, ignoring your question. “Heightened blood pressure, extremely sensitive skin, lowered inhibitions, and…”

“Mig, would you just tell me?”

“Arousal,” he finishes, and you freeze. “Intense arousal. I didn’t mean to jump on you like that, I just…The only way to treat it is to…”

He doesn’t say it out loud, but the implication is clear, along with the intense reminder of how he was pressed against you.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, shrugging a shoulder, trying like hell to look non-committal, like your skin isn’t still tingling in all the places he touched you. “Lowered inhibitions, like you said.”

He doesn’t say anything so much as hum in response, his head lolling to the side again. His eyes are fire when they open again, landing on you and pinning you in place. It makes your breath hitch again, palms lowering to rest on your thighs.

“You need to get out of here, cariño,” he murmurs, his voice low, husky, fingers tapping against his bent knee. “I need to deal with this.”

You’ve inched a bit closer to him, you realize, your traitorous body giving you away.

“How are you gonna deal with it?” you ask, barely above a whisper. Every inch of you is tingling now, not just the places he touched, and the way he tilts his head back again and groans is not helping matters. “Maybe I should…help.”

His eyes flash to you, pools of red, pupils blown big as dinner plates. “You want to…help.”

“You said this could kill you,” you continue, leaning forward until your palms hit the floor. “Someone should…keep an eye on you, y’know. Make sure you…y’know, don’t.”

“How articulate of you.”

“Fuck off.”

He chuckles, the sound deep and rumbly, but you don’t miss the way his shoulders shake even after the laughter has stopped. His breathing is shaky too, you can hear it from where you’re crouched. Worry threads through the lust that’s seemingly replaced your blood, and you slide even closer to him, until there’s maybe two feet between you.

“I don’t want you to die.” The words hang heavy in the air and the truth of them twists your guts. Stubborn ass he may be, but he’s done nothing but protect you since he found you back on Earth 374. You…care. You care a lot.

“Lyla can keep an eye on me,” he spits, but you just get closer.

“So she can wipe her hard drive and clean her eyes with soap afterward?” you joke. “I can’t leave you like this, Mig. Can AIs even use soap?”

“Don’t call me that,” he says again.

“Let me help you,” you say, the words coming easier, firmer. “You know that I can.”

You close the distance completely, your knees bumping the side of his thigh and your hand covering his on the floor. The fabric of his suit recedes, revealing his hands, and your fingers brush over his knuckles. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity,” you tell him, leaning back on your heels, lifting your other hand to pull his bent knee straight. “You need help, and I’m offering it.”

He groans again.

“I’ve owed you, this whole time,” you continue, resting your hand on his shin as his leg rests on the floor. It takes everything in you not to let your eyes wander up to the space between his hips, but you manage. “You saved my life; let me save yours.”

The spider made you strong, made you fast, but Miguel…He’s so large, so imposing, and the moment his hands land on your body, you know he’s been holding back from you.

He maneuvers you into his lap, your knees resting against his hips. In an instant you can feel him, the hard prod of his cock against your cunt, separated only by the thin fabric of your pants and the rippling material of his suit. Miguel groans as he fits his face into your neck, talons pressing into your hips as the suit melts away, every inch of his golden skin suddenly on display. It’s overwhelming and your blood heats, unable to bite back the moan that slips free when he pulls your hips against his, the pressure between you exactly what you need it to be.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” he grits out, his hips lifting off the floor as he chases your body, as you chase each other. “This is just…”

“I’m helping,” you breathe out, your hands curling around his shoulders as you settle into his lap. Well, not so much as settle as twitch, the fabric of your shirt riding up as his hands move up your sides, curling around your ribs. “This is only about keeping you alive.”

“Alive,” he repeats, and you bite your lip, feeling his fingers curl into your shirt. “You have no fucking idea how…”

“God, shut up,” you groan, gripping his face in your hands, claiming his mouth for your own. The sound of tearing fabric reaches your ears as your lips meet his and he growls at you, shredding your shirt and tossing the fabric away, leaving you bare from the waist up. His hands drop to your ass then, tugging at your pants and you bite his bottom lip. “You could just ask nicely, you know.”

He just grunts in response, effectively splitting the elastic band and pulling the rest of your clothes away. You’re completely naked now, perched in his lap, and your skin heats in every spot you’re pressed to him. Which is basically everywhere. “I’ll get you new ones,” he grits, and you roll your eyes, biting at his lip again. 

There’s little ceremony to it. Miguel drags you along him a few times, the feel of him prodding between your legs lighting a fire in you. You can feel how big he is, but you busy yourself with his mouth, your knees pressing against his hips. One of his hands skims down your back, curving around your hip and sliding two fingers through your folds. It makes you keen, a moan ripping from your throat when he presses those fingers into you.

“Wet,” he grunts against your mouth, his breath stuttering as you clench around his digits. You rock your hips into his hand, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging until his head tips back.

“Take what you need,” you say, and for once, he listens to you.

The feeling of his fingers pulling out leaves you aching, but you’re not left waiting for long. He presses against the small of your back, tilting your hips, and then he’s inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in one smooth motion. The sheer fullness that sweeps through you is almost too overwhelming, and your breath whooshes out of you as your chest slams into his. You can feel the way his heart is racing, the rapid thump beneath his sternum nearly vibrating against your own.

This doesn’t mean anything, you remind yourself, circling your hips as he plants his feet, bends his knees. He holds you up slightly, giving just enough space between you for him to thrust up into you, hitting a spot that makes you see stars. This is just…helping. I’m just being helpful.

You’re just…quickly reaching the most intense orgasm you’ve had in a hot second.

He keeps hammering into that same spot, the lab filling with the sound of his skin on yours, your panting breaths, and Miguel’s grunts. It’s fucking euphoric, your head falling back between your shoulders. “Mig, I—”

“Not yet,” he growls, and suddenly you’re being lifted, the heavy weight of him still pressed inside you. Your grip on each other is firm, and Miguel moves quickly, sweeping you out of the lab and through the door that leads to his room. You barely get a breath in before your back hits his mattress and he’s towering over you, his big hands curled around your thighs, kneeling so he can prop your ass up. The angle lets him drive deeper and you throw your arms over your head, curling your fingers in his bedsheets, trying to find some leverage.

One of his hands moves over you, palm grazing your stomach before moving down. He thumbs at your clit, dragging another moan out of you, his brow going hard. You have a better look at his face now, his expression pinched, eyes trained on where he’s pounding into you. His skin is damp with sweat, a sheen on his forehead, his mouth hanging open. You swear you can see his pulse jumping in his throat.

“Want you to cum, princesa,” he nearly begs, and the hitch in his voice makes goosebumps rise all over your body. “So. Fucking. Tight.” He punctuates each word with a deep thrust and everything in you goes impossibly tighter.

“This is about you,” you pant out, clawing at his sheets. “I don’t need—”

But you do. You really fucking do, but something about admitting that to him right here and now feels…wrong. It twists your gut in a not-so-fun way.

“I don’t care, I need you to cum,” he growls, releasing his grip on your thigh to grab at your chin, forcing your eyes on his. “Now.”

Suddenly, your body is not your own. It responds instantly to his command, a string threading your muscles drawing tight as a bow before snapping entirely. Your back arches against the mattress, so hard it just brings you closer to him and Miguel drops his head, dragging his nose up the middle of your chest. It courses through your entire body, your hips lifting entirely off the bed to chase him, to keep him buried within you.

He groans as you cum, the sound the only thing you’re aware of besides the pleasure setting your body on fire. There’s a ringing in your ears, your muscles going lax as you start to come down, but he doesn’t stop. One of your hands floats to his hair, tangling the sweat-damp strands around your knuckles and you can feel his growl shake your ribs.

“More,” he grits, raking his hands down your sides, gripping your hips again. You inhale sharply as his head turns, skirting across your chest to take your nipple between his lips. The pace is relentless, your body growing tight again with his movements. He’s playing you like a fucking fiddle, and you’re the first to admit you’re loving every second of it.

You manage to open your eyes, the pleasure receding just enough for you to regain some of your faculties.

He’s staring right back.

It makes you flinch, jolting in his grasp as his lips draw back, revealing one pointed fang. You shiver as he drags the tip of it around your nipple.

“Again.”

And again, your body obeys. This time it sneaks up on you more than barrels through you, making you throw your head back against the mattress. “Fuck, Miguel.” Your nails dig against his scalp, tugging at his hair, revelling in the noise it pulls out of him. You want to record it, put it on repeat, set it as your fucking ringtone. How the fuck is he doing this? This was supposed to be about him.

Not that you’re not enjoying yourself. Quite the opposite.

He’s still staring at you, peering up at you from where he’s bent against your chest. There’s something in those ridiculous eyes, something you have no name for, and you force your eyes away, moving them down his body, to where you can see him still driving into your cunt, the length of him slick with you. The sight alone makes you clench, and when you do, he curses under his breath.

“Where…?” he grits, the hoarseness in his voice drawing your eyes back up to his face.

He looks like he’s in pain. Your heart twists in your chest at the sight, reaching up to swipe your hand across his sweaty forehead. “Does it hurt?”

“I need…” He trails off, leaning into your touch, turning his head and nipping at your wrist, at your pulse. “Where can I…?”

“Wherever you want,” you pant, gasping as he drives as deep as inhumanly possible, moving you further up the bed. “Whatever you need to—”

You’re cut off by the roar that echoes through the room. He buries his face in your neck as it happens, most of his weight dropping onto you, hips pinning yours to the bed, chest pressed to yours. He pulls out at the last second, cock sliding through the hinge of your thigh, cum spurting hot against your stomach. He doesn’t seem to care about the mess he’s making of you both, his entire body covering yours as he shudders his way through it.

It feels like it lasts forever. His limbs go taut and then loose, his breath quickening and then slowing against the shell of your ear. You don’t know what else to do except hold him through it, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, one hand finding his hair once more. It’s like his release is chasing the pollen from his system, his superhuman body returning to his brand of normal. He babbles through some of it, grunts and moans and something that sounds almost like your name murmured in your ear.

You just hold him.

Eventually, he seems to come back to himself. You’re loathe to admit you’re revelling in the feel of him against you, the way his hands are tangled in your hair against his pillows. The weight of him is…it’s nice. It’s really fucking nice.

It’s too nice.

You wait a few minutes, wait for him to find his bearings, to peel himself away from you, but it never comes. He’s a solid weight on top of you, and while you’ve been listening to his erratic breathing, waiting for it to even out, you realize that it’s gone…slow. He’s asleep.

“Mig,” you murmur, barely above a whisper, tugging softly at his hair. Nothing. Not so much as a twitch. He’s dead to the world, his slow breaths turning to quiet snores in your ear. Carefully, inch by inch, you slide your way out from under him. You freeze when he rolls onto his side, his breath hitching for a moment, but it evens out again and you slip off the edge of his bed.

Your clothes are toast, the shreds of fabric scattered on the floor of the lab, so you slip into his closet, finding a t-shirt that’s way too big for you. You definitely don’t inhale the scent that clings to it as you slip it over your head.

Your steps are quiet as you pad back into his bedroom, leaned up on your toes as you peer at him. Still asleep, hasn’t so much as moved from the spot you left him. You draw closer, your fingers curled around the hem of his t-shirt.

He doesn’t move an inch as you reach for his wrist, easily slipping the watch off his wrist and replacing it with your own. The too-big band of his adjusts to your size as you close the latch around your wrist, turn on your heel, and scurry from the room, through the lab, shooting a web up at the ceiling and launching yourself up to the next floor, the level your room is on.

You don’t make a sound as you pack your bag, reluctantly shrugging out of Miguel’s t-shirt to put your suit on, stuffing it into your bag with handfuls of clothes, whatever random shit your muddled mind has decided you need to take with you.

It felt too nice.

You know what would happen, you’ve decided, if you stay. You’d drift off, there in his bed, enveloped by his broad frame, half-drunk off the scent of him. You’d get the best sleep of your life, and when you woke the next morning, he’d be there, staring down his nose at you, the desperate man that had pulled pleasure from your body like it was his damn day job replaced with the grumpy fuck that plucked your last nerve like a guitar string.

The problem was that you knew exactly what he’d say to you:

This doesn’t mean anything.

The problem is that you’ve grown to care too much for him, grumpy, desperate, and all things in between.

Lyla makes an appearance as you sling your bag over your shoulder, keying in the universe you want to jump to, Miguel’s watch not locked out the same way yours is. “You really think that’s a good idea?”

You lift a brow as she cocks her digital hip at you. “You want me to answer that? So you can tell me I’m full of shit?”

“Ideally, yes.”

“Can AIs make promises?”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Technically speaking.”

“Don’t tell him where I am,” you ask, pleading. “Please?”

“He’ll find out anyway,” she tells you, shaking her head, heart-shaped glasses slipping down her nose. Her eyes are big as she stares at you over the rims. “He’s smarter than you give him credit for. I know he’s a grumpy asshole ninety-nine percent of the time, but he—”

“Lyla, please.”

She sighs, sliding the glasses back up. “He won’t hear it from me.”

“Thank you.”

The portal crackles to life, that familiar tug in your stomach as you step toward it. Lyla fades from view as you take another step, and you ignore the echo of Miguel’s voice calling your name, and step through completely.

[revasserium]

savanaclaw #1 - cheek kisses

leona.

the first time you do it, he has to swallow passed the purr ripping up the back of his throat, his entire body going warm, going soft, going — he blinks as you pull back, laughing, your lashes flashing as you seem to realize what you’d done. he sees you open your mouth to apologize, runs a hand through his hair, shakes his head to silence you. “ah… don’t do something you can’t follow through on now,” he says as he cocks his head, eyes half-lidded and daring, the smirk on his lips going lopsided as you bite your own lips, clearly flustered. he tries not to stare, he really does — but really, what do you expect him to do after you’ve initiated contact? he brushes a finger against your soft cheek, finally letting a purr rumble through him as you look back up at him to catch his eyes. “go on then, try that again,” he says, tapping a finger to his own cheek even as you swallow hard, leaning up on your tip-toes ever so slowly. but just before your lips meet his skin, he turns his head, grinning as you squeak in surprise against his lips, that is, till he pulls you in closer and your eyes finally flutter closed, and everything else is soon forgotten.

ruggie.

the first time you do it, he almost thinks it’s not real, that he’d just imagined it, conjured it out of thin air, because there you are, turning around to high-five Epel for a game well-played, and maybe he’s still just delirious from their win in the mix-and-match magishift game but when he finds your eyes again, he doesn’t miss the way your cheeks flare up with heat and somehow, he feels his own do the same. and he agonizes over it — how could he not? but between leona telling him that he’s overthinking it and jack telling him to just go for it, he isn’t quite sure what his next move should be. after all, if you’d made the first move… that must mean you’re open to him making the second… right? so when he tugs you into a corner of a hallway between classes the next day, pressing a finger to your lips to keep you from yelping, suddenly, he finds himself rather at a loss, but then you’re blinking up at him, and he can almost hear the way your heartbeat stutters, see the way your pupils dilate when you look up at him and he lets himself relax, grinning as he slowly leans down towards you with a, “ne… it was real mean what you did after the magishift match yesterday… so, how’re you gonna make it up to me? leavin’ me hangin’ like that? what… don’t i deserve a real kiss to make up for it?”

jack.

the first time you do it, he goes stock still, his entire body locking into place because no way — no way did you just do the thing he’d been dreaming of doing to you for — for god knows how long. he swivels to look at you, his eyes wide, and you’re peering up at him with that precious, peach-pink blush on your cheeks, and he doesn’t even notice the wild wagging of his tail till you giggle, taking half a step back to point at it, wondering aloud, “ah… so i guess i wasn’t imagining things… right?” you lick your lips and he bites back the urge to sink his own teeth into the plush of your bottom lip, just to see how good you’d taste. instead, he clears his throat and tries not to seem too eager, “n-no — you weren’t but — uhm — what — what gave it away?” and he curses at the way he stumbles over his own words, at how hot his face feels, at the giggling he can hear from behind the statue to his left, knowing that ruggie’s probably got something to do with this, and maybe grim too. still, he waits, watches as you rock on the balls of your heels, lace your hands behind your back, smile prettily back up at him before answering, “oh… y’know, vil-senpai might’ve said a thing or two about how you’d been ‘pining for long enough’ and that it was time for your ‘romance arc’ to begin.” to which he feels his ears flatten to his head, a growl curling up his throat as he swears he’s gonna find vil and — but you tug him back by the arm, blinking up at him with a sly grin he really can’t deny looks good on you, “wait, before you do that… don’t i at least get a kiss back first?”

[gh0stsp1d3r]

I had a thought on a Ethan Landry smut. Do with it as you please.

Obsessed Ethan Landry x Obsessed Reader: The reader is aware of Ethan's obsession with her and that he and his family are Ghostface. The reader acts stupid, but she is just as fixated on Ethan (though not in a murderous way) but hides it really well that nobody knows. The reader finally decides to abduct Ethan during a party or other event, ties him up on her bed, and lets him know about her obsession and his secrets. The cameras he hide in her apartment (which the reader purposefully plays with herself in view to give him a show of course pretend she didn't know), murdered a guy that was hitting on the reader, and etc.

𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

A/n- it’s been a while since I wrote for Ethan sooo (; hope it’s still good, Ethan’s giving a “I like to dissect girls, did you know I’m utterly insane?” Patrick Bateman vibe

Warnings- voyeurism, masturabation (f), Oral (f), not much smut but I can make a second part if anyone wants

“Hey, Ethan.” You said with a smile, leaning against the doorway.

“Oh, y/n! I didn’t expect you to-“ he jumped slightly, and then scrambled to his drawers to find some clothes, blushing. You’d really caught him in only his boxers.

“I was studying with Chad, and I just wanted to say hi. Sorry- I shoulda knocked.” You said, making your way to his bed and sitting on it.

He put his pants on and a white t-shirt, and sat at his desk chair.

Studying? Yeah right. His tongue was probably just down your throat, he thought. He was jealous over you two studying, if that wasn’t sad… He brushed off those thoughts.

“Yeah- hi, hi.” He laughed “It’s fine. I just wasn’t expecting..” he scratched the back of his neck.

“What you been up to?” You asked, glancing at his computer on the desk and back to him.

“Uh… nothing. Nothing.” He said. “It’s just econ homework.” He shrugged, and quickly shut his computer.

“Fun.” You snickered.

“Oh yeah, totally.” He said sarcastically.

It was awkwardly quiet for a little.

“You coming to the party tonight?”

“Uh… I mean.. I wasn’t really planning on it, but Chad wanted me to so he’ll probably drag me along.”

“Mm. Got it. So I’ll see you then?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there.” He said with a smile, and you stood up.

“Alright. See you.”

“Yeah, see you.”

He let out a sigh of relief when you left, opening his computer back up.

He clicked on the clip he had saved for later and pushed play. He took his pants back off, then his boxers.

You jumped onto your bed, vibrator in hand. With a small smirk on your face you pulled down your panties, your pants already discarded on the floor.

You switched it on, taking a small glance to the hidden camera. You found it a few weeks ago, but decided to leave it alone.

And you also found out that it was placed by your best friend, Ethan when you both were studying, he went to the bathroom and you snooped on his computer.

You pressed it onto your cunt, making a loud moan, hips bucking off the bed.

“Mmm-“

“Fuck.” He mumbled, he can’t believe he hadn’t seen this clip earlier.

He stumbled on it when he was going through some new footage, and he skimmed through it, but he saved that specific time for later.

“Ethan- fuck-“ you moaned out, Ethan stopped moving his hand up and down his cock, his eyes were wide.

He clicked back on the computer, and he replayed it.

“Ethan-“ so he wasn’t imagining it. He watched the way the words formed on your mouth, the way you said his name so sweetly.

“Shit.” He continued to watch it, stroking his cock even faster now, his balls feeling like they were gonna explode any second now.

He groaned out your name as he spilled his seed onto his hand, hoping to god his dorm mate couldn’t hear.

He threw his head back onto the chair, continuing to listen to your moans.

“Fuck.”

Then he looked back at the clip, he saw you biting your lip so hard, making it bleed. Then he saw you look over.

He narrowed his eyes, and replayed the moment where you looked over.

You seemed to be looking directly at the camera, staring deeply into his eyes through it, as if you knew he would be watching this.

Then he went back to where you moaned his name, to which you did the same thing, looking directly at the camera.

It had to have been a coincidence, right?

——————————————————————

“He’s cute.. come on!” You whined to your friend, trying to convince her.

“Not my type. And are you sure that whole things gonna work out? It seems…”

“It will!”

“Alright, girl. Let me know how it goes, because I see him right there.” She turned you around, he looked around as Chad stood by his side.

“Wait what? Right now?” You whisper yelled as she pushed you.

“Yup. Right now.” She nodded to him with a smile, watching as you went up to them.

“Hey y/n.”

“Hey Chad. Hi Ethan.”

“Hi.”

Chad looked at Ethan, raising eyebrows.

“Well, I’m gonna uh.. go talk to Anthony. Anthony!” Chad yelled, walking away.

“Chad- Chad don’t- ugh.” Ethan tried, groaning.

You laughed quietly. “Guess it’s just you and me.”

“I guess so.”

It was awkward, probably because he was just jerking off to you.

You then grabbed his hand, leading him to a secluded room.

“Y/n, y/n?” He said, confused slightly as you practically dragged him.

You shut the door and faced him.

“Are you okay?” He asked when you grabbed his hands again, he didn’t fight against your grip, and you knew he wouldn’t.

You grabbed a zip tie that you had in your pocket, tying him to the bed frame.

“Y/n, what the hell?!”

You sat on his lap, he looked confused, and he tried to get out of the zip ties.

“I know that you’re ghostface.”

He stopped struggling, and he now looked at you.

“I’m not ghostface. Why does everyone think that?”

You reached to his waistband and pulled out the hidden knife, with a cover over it.

He sighed and looked at the knife you had in your hands. You put it next to you both.

Then you felt something poke you underneath, you furrowed your eyebrows.

“Are you fucking- hard?”

“No!”

“Ethan!”

“You’re sitting like- directly on my dick!” He whined, throwing his head back.

“Whatever. I know you’re ghostface-“

“So what? You’re gonna turn me in?” He spat.

“No. I just wanted to let you know about something.”

“What?”

“I know about the camera. I know about the diary. I know about how you killed that one guy hitting on me.”

His eyes widened, mouth agape slightly.

“You knew this whole time?”

You nodded, and then you didn’t something he never would’ve thought would actually happen.

You bent down, and you captured his lips on yours.

“I knew all about your obsession. You didn’t know about mines. Ethan Landry, I’m fucking crazy in love with you.” You whispered against his lips.

It was his turn to kiss you now, he tried to grab your cheeks but he forgot about his tied hands.

“Can you untie me?” He asked when you both pulled away for air. You laughed quietly, nodding.

“Why’d you tie me in the first place?” He asked, rubbing his now free wrists.

“Because I didn’t want you to go crazy and try to kill me.”

“Oh, I’d never kill you, sweetheart.” He cooed, something about his words seemed so…

He grabbed the knife, and he pinned you onto the bed now.

He took the cover off the knife, running a finger over the blade carefully.

You whimpered when he held it above your throat, it ghosted your skin.

He chuckled at your reaction and smiled, he then took his other hand, running his fingers on your cheeks, and over your lips. He put the knife on the dresser, it served as a warning.

A warning that he could do whatever he wanted to you, a warning that he had the power here, not you.

You opened your mouth when he put his fingers there, his eyes dark and full of lust. You grabbed his wrist while you licked his fingers, swirling your tongue around the digits.

He then took his fingers out your mouth, and he dropped down to your clothed cunt. He quickly took off your shorts, he threw them and your panties somewhere onto the floor.

He lapped at your pussy, paying special attention to your clit. You let out a moan, your hands immediately flying to his hair.

This would definitely be a long night.

[harrywavycurly]

Sarah!! I’m just imagining one night reader and Eddie’s pillow talk after a long day with Dorothy or even when she was pregnant and I know reader sneaks in wanting cheese fries into the conversation 😂 I love them!!💕💕

Hiii babes!! I love this because you know their pillow talk is just so random especially when she was pregnant😂 so I hope you enjoy these little glimpses into what their late night convos are like!💖

-find all things It Was Just One Night here

“Jesus Christ why are your feet so fucking cold?” “I was too sleepy to put socks on…stop moving Eddie how am I supposed to shove them between yours if you keep wiggling away from me?” “That’s the point you can’t…just let me go get you some socks so we can both get comfortable.” “I’m perfectly content…” “yeah well it feels like I have actual ice cubes on my feet so I’m gonna-” “You’re ruining this moment you asshole just lay down and let me cuddle you.” “But…but your feet…are so fucking cold baby.” “Just lay down and you’ll forget all about my feet in a few minutes.” “How will I forget?…oh is this like…your way of saying we can do sexy stuff that’ll distract me from your glacier feet?” “Yeah…go get me some socks.”

“Did I tell you what Steve told me today when he came to drop off some snacks for me at work?” “Snacks? Baby I packed you a whole fucking lunch.” “So?…what’s lunch have to do with snacks? Oh hand me my chapstick please.” “Here…I guess…snacks and lunch don’t really have anything in common minus being food…but no what did Steve tell you?” “He said he has a date!” “He’s Steve…he always has a date.” “Don’t be an asshole Eddie he’s really excited about this one…wants me to meet her this weekend.” “He wants you to meet her?…Why?” “What do you mean why?” “Is he trying to scare her off?” “Edward James Munson what the fuck is wrong with you?” “Ouch you’re so violent before bed…I’m just saying We all remember what happened with the last girl he brought over…” “She tried to take a bite of my Mac and cheese…I was like eight months pregnant you can’t just try to take my food without me screaming or crying…” “yeah well you ended up doing both…” “I’m his bestfriend Eddie he just wants to get my opinion on her that’s all…” “and probably show off his uncle skills with Dotty…he knows girls melt at the sight of a man holding a baby.” “That’s true…you look dreamy holding Dotty.” “Do I really?” “Yes but do go getting all cocky about it…”

“Is that my shirt?” “No it’s mine.” “Baby…did you go into my dresser and steal another one of my shirts?” “No…I went into the closet and stole one of your shirts…they are perfect for sleeping and you sleep half naked so figured it’s fine.” “Yeah yeah it’s fine…can you uh..is it okay if we cuddle a little before bed? I’ve had a long day.” “We cuddle every night before bed…” “i mean uhm..like can..I uh-” “you wanna be the little spoon don’t you?” “Yes.” “Fine but only if you put your hair up so it’s not all in my face…you know I hate when it gets in my mouth.” “Of course…I love you.” “I love you too now come to momma…tell me all about your day.” “You know how I feel about you calling yourself momma in the bedroom.” “Oh right forgot no momma for me but daddy for you is allowed…that’s so rude.” “Don’t start with the daddy thing unless you’re in the mood to fool around….” “Did you use a new body wash? You smell like…lavender?” “I accidentally used the bed time baby wash we use for Dotty…I thought it was one of your fancy ones…” “it smells nice…god you’re so warm it’s like you’re my own space heater.” “Yeah we need to get your levels checked because it’s like frosty the fucking snowman is spooning me right now.” “At least I didn’t forget my socks this time.” “Thank god for that…”

“When did you know you were in love with me?” “What?” “When did you realize you were in love with me? I mean it took you months to even ask me on a date so I’m just curious.” “Oh uh well…I kinda knew the moment I saw you shove a whole chicken nugget into your mouth and wash it down with a milkshake after we bought Dotty’s crib….I just looked at you and thought…yeah…that’s her…she’s the one.” “What the fuck Eddie that was like a whole month before my baby shower.” “Yeah…I know…but I didn’t wanna freak you out so I figured a date first would be smart.” “For me it was when you came to pick me up from lovers lake at like three in the morning because my car wouldn’t start…that’s when I kinda started seeing you as someone I could actually enjoy being around.” “That’s the first time I stayed the night with you.” “I know…I just enjoyed you being around and when I woke up and you were still there it just…meant a lot to me.” “I’ll always be here…I’m not going anywhere.” “I know…” “I love you…I’d marry you if you’d stop telling me no.” “I love you too…I know you would…but I’m never gonna say yes…sorry.” “It’s fine baby…I’m never gonna stop asking….ya know just incase you change your mind.”

[straykeedz]

(credits to who owns the pics, i just found them on pinterest)

okay so i was minding my business on pinterest as i usually do and i stumbled across these and oh, thoughts are being thought… 🙊 that tank top and belt did something to me ngl

!!!minors dni with this!!!

tw: female anatomy; mentions of unprotected sex (hey, don’t.); creampie; daddy kink (oops) spanking; ♡

this is heavily unedited

ok so just imagine - jisung knows you’re backstage and are watching him perform and that lowkey makes him wanna act all teasing, knowing it drives you crazy and just makes you crave him so bad;

post-concert!jisung who just can’t wait to drag you in the first dressing room/washroom available and just bend you over, undo his pants just enough to take his cock out and fuck you - bonus points if it’s in front of a mirror so he can see your face as he pounds into you;

his hands would grip your hips so hard you’re sure he’s gonna leave marks, but you don’t care, it wouldn’t be the first time after all;

and you’d moan, and he wouldn’t even bother to ask you to keep quiet - he wants everyone to hear the sweet sounds you make only for him;

he’d cum inside of you and ask you to “keep it inside baby, all of it. be a good girl and keep my cum inside your pussy until we’re home”

and when you’re home…

your hands would be all over him - you’re so turned on by his outfit, his stage presence, his performance, everything about him, and you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of him;

“mhhh what’s gotten into you, baby?”;

“not your cock”, you’d pout, running your hands over his chest - that little tank top driving you absolutely feral;

“now we both know that’s a lie” he’d chuckle because fuck, he just dicked you down less than an hour ago;

but it’s not enough;

“what got you so desperate for my cock, angel?”;

“‘m always desperate for your cock” your hands would reach his belt - fingers tracing the outline of the golden heart “but you were so sexy tonight… and this outfit, god”;

he’d smirk, loving to see you so horny;

“you like it?” you’d nod;

“looks so good on you…” fingers still on the leather belt;

“what is it, angel, you like the belt?” he’d joke, but then he’d widen his eyes when he sees you biting your lip, cheeks flustered. “oh, you do.”;

and something inside of him snaps, making him wanna do something you’ve never done before;

“want me to spank you with it, angel?”;

you’d gasp, but nod slowly - that’s what you’ve been thinking of the whole night to be honest;

“fuck, get on the bed, angel. on your tummy.”;

you obey, already feeling a tingling sensation between your legs as you lay flat on the mattress. you’d feel his hand flipping up your dress, sliding it up over the curve of your ass;

then you’d hear him fidgeting with his belt, taking it off, and you wiggle your ass in anticipation. his hand would cup one of your asscheek, squeezing the soft flesh as he bites his lip;

“you want me to spank this pretty little ass, angel?” you whimper, nodding “yeah? you want me to use my belt on you? mark those pretty asscheeks?”;

“please, please”;

“please what?”;

“spank me, daddy”;

and omg-;

ok so imho jisung has a mommy kink. BUT, that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t like to be in charge sometimes, and when he does, he looooves to be called daddy. like i just can 100% picture him getting so flustered and incredibly horny once the word slips out of your mouth;

the first spank would be hesitant and tentative, just testing the waters, yk?;

but then you’d let out a loud moan and he’d be tempted to do it again. and you’d beg him to;

“count them for me, angel.” he’d ask you - only because he loves to see how your voice breaks down because of pleasure;

and he’d be soooo turned on by the cute little red marks on your asscheeks;

and he’d stop spanking you only to run his fingers up and down your clothes pussy just to see if you’re wet and oh, your panties are soaked;

so he’d pull your panties to the side just to feel the wetness coating his fingers;

“mhhh you liked it so much, angel, didn’t you?”;

“yes- so much”, you whimper, fisting the sheets beneath you;

he’d be so hard it’s almost painful now, palming himself over the skinny jeans he’s wearing, but he’d want to pleasure you first;

so he’d ease two fingers inside of you - you’re so wet that they slip in easily, and you moan, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder;

“cum for me like this, angel.”;

and you’d whine, bc “but i want to cum on your cock”, you’d pout;

he chuckles, starting to move his fingers inside of you;

“cum for me and i’ll give you my cock, my angel, i promise.”

ok so idk what this is i just wrote it in one sitting lol

but!!

if you want to send in your skz hard thoughts (or soft thoughts, or just thoughts lol) my inbox is always open! just click on the “💌” emoji on my profile!

-> reblog to support me if you like my works, “it’s good for motivation” my man chris bang once said.

[chaotic-mystery]

I would commit first degree murder to know your thoughts on calling best friends dad Joel daddy for the first time because 🥵🥴.

Just imagine being bent over his lap as he fingers you, squirming because it’s too much and his hand is covering your mouth because you’re being “too fucking loud”

Loosing control and begging daddy to let you cum

Okay bye I gotta sleep

- 💆‍♀️

"Say it again sweet girl, say what you said at the dinner table when you thanked me for dinner." He hissed at you while rubbed his hand over your ass cheek before giving a firm smack. You were joking earlier when you repeated Sarah's words after she thanked her dad for cooking dinner, but somehow it was different when you said daddy instead of dad. She didn't seem to mind or notice the intent with it, but Joel did. Maybe it was the way you batted your lashes at him while you watched him choke on his water a little bit, maybe it was the way your foot rubbed against his leg under the table.

"Daddy, please I- I need you please touch me." He chuckled and yanked your panties down roughly and went back to caressing your ass. “Where should I touch you baby? Hm? Tell daddy where you want him to touch you.”

You reached under yourself as you were laying across his lap and started giving yourself relief with your fingers on your throbbing clit, whimpering and moaning his name ever so quietly. He spanked you roughly and jerked your arm out from under you, “I said tell me, not show me. Use your words, had no issue before, bunny.” His tone was intimidating but warm enough to leave you wanting more. He set your chest on fire and sent your mind to the heavens, you needed him like a plant needed water, you were in heat. He drove you mad earlier the way he gripped his wine glass, the way he winked at you when he gave a small toast to the two of "his girls" being home for a couple weeks from college, he knew the smirk he had would get your head spinning.

"Touch me between my legs please- oh my god- I need you so bad, please daddy" you whined out and rested your head on the couch cushion. His warm fingers glided against your wet folds, grazing over your sensitive clit. "Oooh you mean right here, pretty girl?" Joel purred quietly and watched as your face contorted with pleasure. Your eyes screwed shut as he moved his fingers faster, his groans matching yours. He loved seeing how much you needed him, how much power he had over you and your body. "What if I touch you here baby doll? Would you like that?" He asks as he teased your entrance. Your hand squeezed the couch cushion and he didn't even finish his sentence before you were nodding your head in agreement.

"You're so mean the way you tease me after being gone for so long" you whined and wiggled impatiently, trying to create more friction between your legs somehow. "I'm mean, is that it baby? You haven't seen mean." Joel's hand pressed against your back to stop your squirming and his two fingers slipped inside you with ease and he let out a grunt. "Like a fuckin' glove baby doll, soaked for daddy, huh?" he was practically purring from the way your body reacted to him, how you squeezed around his fingers as they curled inside you while pumping in and out.

His warm hand held you in place as he went faster, groaning along with you while he watched closely at what he was doing to you. Your whiny moans got louder and his hand flew from your back to over your mouth, squishing your cheeks tightly to muffle you. “S’that feel so good bunny you can’t keep your dirty mouth shut? Bein too fuckin’ loud, that’s not what good girls do when they’re trying to secretly fuck their best friends dad.” Your legs squirmed from pleasure and you cried our as your nearing orgasm started to take over.

“Don’t you fuckin’ cum until I say so, you got that baby doll?” He mumbled against your temple before kissing your ear and biting it softly. Joel’s fingers never slowed once, they consistently hit the right spot inside that just made you melt and have you do anything he wanted. How the hell did he expect you to hold off having one of your best orgasms? “Daddy please I can’t please let me cum, I wanna cum for you, make me feel so good” your begging only turned him on more as it was muffled against the palm of his hand. He had full control over you and that alone could’ve made him cum in his pants.

He was the first man to make you feel this way, like you were mere seconds away from feeling like your world was crashing down. “You think you deserve to cum, sweetheart? Tell daddy why you should get that privilege.” His hand left your mouth and you gasped for air a little bit before trying to get your sentence out. “I’m a good girl for you daddy, please- I won’t tease you anymore in front of people I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, let me cum and show you how much I missed you, please daddy.” He watched you talk circles around yourself and stutter from his fingers pushed into you harder, your thighs squeezing shut as hard as you could to keep your orgasm at bay. “Go on then, bunny. Cum all over my hand, show me you missed me.”

You buried your head in the cushion as you practically screamed while your body shook, your orgasm taking control. He pulled you close as he slowed down, fingers stopping just before they were almost out of you, then plunging deep back inside. Jolting and wiggling ensued as it felt like crashing waves over your body and Joel quietly shushed you. Your muffled moans were almost silent with how hard you had your face pressed into the cushion. His fingers make their way out of your entrance and to his lips as Joel licked them clean and moaned desperately as he tasted how good you were. “You taste so delicious my pretty baby" Joel whispered before he kissed the crown of your head.

[februaryflowers]

hot chocolate kisses

in which wonwoo is your “boyfriend” for all your coworkers at the holiday party

warnings: kissing, pining, it’s a little cheesy oops

fluff, 1085 words, wonwoo x reader

a/n: surprise hi @bfwonu​ i’m your secret santa! it’s been super nice getting to know you these few weeks and i hope you’ve had/are wrapping up a wonderful holiday season ❤️

“So, you’re dating Wonwoo?” Seungkwan asks.

You nod, recollecting the story Wonwoo had rehearsed with you last week. “For a few months. He asked me out one night while we were closing up.”

Your friend hums in thought, taking a sip of his gingerbread latte. “About time! I’m telling you, we were about to start placing bets on when you’d start going out!”

“Huh!?” you exclaim, warmth suddenly flooding your face and definitely not from the hot chocolate you’ve been nursing. “You were gonna what!?”

“Yeah, we were getting real sick and tired of the lovey-dovey looks you’d give each other when you weren’t looking and all the moping! If you’d heard his sighs and seen him when Seokmin came in…” Seungkwan shakes his head.

“Whaddya mean?” you ask, but you don’t think you can meet his gaze. The foam heart Wonwoo made on the top of your drink is suddenly the most interesting thing in this party.

“Oh, all he could do was sigh about how you’d be better together. He was convinced Seokmin was gonna ask you out! And then he’d stare longingly at you at the counter like a sad lead in a movie!”

Biting your lip, you dare to lift your eyes from the cup in your hands to your “boyfriend.” He chats animatedly with your coworker Minghao, a small smile lingering on his face. You can imagine their conversation, maybe something about philosophy, given their similar majors, yet it’s hard to believe that this same man, the shy, sweet, blushy coworker would have the same feelings for you that you have for him.

You’d murmured under your breath, asking him if he’d pretend to be your boyfriend for the annual holiday party, where you’d all feast on the extra seasonal desserts that were leftover from the day now that the month was coming to a close. And you definitely didn’t want to hear about your lack of a partner from all your other coworkers. Soonyoung would always say he never understood, that you were such a catch and someone would love to date you if you would just accept. But you can’t bear to lead someone on when you know well that your heart is Wonwoo’s. 

“He…he did?” you manage to squeak out, immediately drowning your throat in chocolate after.

“Yeah, Soonyoung was gonna start intervening or something.” Seungkwan rolls his eyes playfully, shaking his head. “Good timing. We do not need more chaos. I think Jeonghan would lose his mind if he made some kinda commotion in front of the customers.”

“He was…he was seriously jealous of Seokmin?” you ask. “I thought everyone knew I was just tutoring him!” 

Seungkwan sighs, rubbing the crease between his brows. You guys are dating, right? How can you two be this oblivious? Doing his best to hold in a wince, he straightens up and takes another sip of coffee. 

“No, but thank god he came in. We couldn’t stand any more pining! We honestly thought you guys were gonna start dating a lot sooner.”

Yet, despite all of Seungkwan’s reassurances that your “boyfriend” loves you, is so head over heels for you, your heart sinks, the hot chocolate in your stomach swirling into a dark storm. This, all of this, isn’t real. Glancing at Wonwoo once more, you bite your lip. 

Part of you wonders if Seungkwan is just saying things, telling you how much Wonwoo has pined after you to pretend it’s always been this way, to make sense of how nonsensical it would be for you to date him. But, as if he can sense your gaze, Wonwoo turns his head, his warm smile and wave in your direction causing a lump in your throat to form. 

He makes his way over in slow motion, and you can do nothing as he casually slips an arm behind your back and murmurs an apology to Seungkwan for taking you as he ushers you to a quiet corner. “Everything okay?” he asks. 

“Y-yeah,” you exhale, a shaky breath meeting his skin. “Just nervous. What if they know?”

He chuckles, eyes darting around to find not a soul watching the two of you before he takes your hand and brings your knuckles to meet his lips. “They won’t. Trust me.”

“I do, but—”

He raises his brows. “I didn’t get an A in Shakespearean Plays for nothing,” he quips. 

With a heavy breath, you lift your gaze from the floor to his face. “Then…c-can I ask you something?”

You swear you see the faintest dusting of pink rising to his cheeks as he nods. “Okay…”

“You…you like me…” The words fall more as a statement than you intended, and you instantly step back. “I-I mean—”

“I do,” he murmurs, barely above a whisper that you wouldn’t have heard over the chatter if not for the fact that you’re just always so aware of him, his presence, his actions. His hands ghost over your arms, unsure of where you’re going with this, but his heart just pangs. You’re so close, right in front of him as he acts as your “boyfriend” in front of all your friends and coworkers. Can’t he just hold you and pretend a little more?

“How long?”

He sighs, his heart falling into the pit in his stomach. “A while…maybe since last summer.” He steps back. “I’m sorry if this all made you uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have agreed to—”

“Wonwoo?” 

Your voice draws his attention back to your face. 

“Did you know we’ve been under the mistletoe this whole time?”

He follows your gaze up to the top of the doorframe, the little green twig sitting innocently above you and causing a festive red to color his cheeks. “I’m so—”

But before he can finish his thoughts, you lean forward, pressing a quick peck to his lips. “Could you give me one more present this year?” you whisper, your breath floating easily towards him.

“Okay…”

“Would you go out with me? Go out on a real date with me?”

This time, he smiles, meeting you with a warm kiss, one way less fleeting than yours. It’s something he’d like to remember, to savor. 

As you reach a hand up to cup his cheek, your fingers almost recoil at the touch of his skin, something toastier than even a winter fireplace. With a small grin, you pull away, Wonwoo’s lips trailing after you for just a moment before he settles for wrapping you in a hug.

Well, the answer is simple.

[7ndipity]

Scary Good

Hobi x Plus Size Reader

Summary: A spooky movie and needy Hobi? You couldn’t imagine a better way to spend Halloween.

Warnings: VERY suggestive, grinding, handsy Hobi, swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @ygwa for requesting this! I hope you like it!

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

“Okay, I’ve got popcorn and candy, do we need anything else?” You asked as you joined Hoseok in the living room.

“I need something.” Hobi said from his spot on the sofa, puckering his lips at you.

Biting back a grin, you complied, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before catching his chin in your hand. “You know that’s like the fifth time you’ve done that tonight?” You asked.

“Yeah, so? I can’t help that you make me want kisses.” He said with a cheeky grin.

“Oh, so this is my fault?” You said looking at him questioningly.

“Definitely.” He nodded seriously, trying to lean in for another kiss, but at the last second, you pulled away teasingly, earning a pout from him.

“Meanie.” He said, narrowing his eyes at you, making you laugh again.

Even since he’d arrived at your place earlier that evening, Hobi’d been extra needy, following you around everywhere as you tried to set things up for your movie night. You were used to his normally affectionate nature, but tonight it was like he had shifted into overdrive, clinging to your back as you’d prepared the snacks and begging for kisses every five minutes.

Finally, you settled onto the couch with him, draping a blanket over the two of you as Hobi tugged at you until you were tucked into his side with your legs over his lap.

“What do you wanna watch?” He asked, hooking his arms around your waist contentedly.

“We could watch a scary movie?” You suggested. “It is Halloween, after all.”

“Ehh.” His face immediately scrunched up in distaste.

“I’ll take that as a no?” You said, giggling at his expression.

“I just don’t understand why people like them so much? Why would you purposefully scare yourself?” He said as you scrolled through the various titles.

“Some people like the adrenaline rush, like with roller coasters, though personally I think it’s mostly an excuse to ‘comfort’ each other when you get scared.” You said, earning a snort from him as you wiggled your brows at him suggestively.

“Oh! Well then, by all means, let’s please watch one of those!” He said, making you laugh as he tightened his grip on you.

“Are you sure?” You asked, amused by his sudden enthusiasm.

“Mhm, just don’t pick anything super scary.” He said.

You quickly picked a movie and settled back against him, snuggling down into the blanket.

“Are you scared yet?” He asked.

“Not yet.” You grinned.

“How ‘bout now?”

“Would you shush!” You scolded him, giggling.

To your surprise, the movie actually turned out to be somewhat interesting, you and Hobi finding yourselves immersed in the plot and watching in comfortable silence for several minutes.

Inevitably though, a distraction presented itself in the form of Hobi’s hands finding their way from your waist down to your thighs, tracing seemingly absentminded patterns over the expanse of skin, his fingers stopping just shy of the bottom edge of your pajama shorts, making you squirm slightly as you grew increasingly frustrated, heat beginning to spread in your lower belly.

”Hobi?” You breathed.

“Hmm?” He hummed.

“I think I’m scared now.” You said.

“Oh thank God!” He exclaimed, causing you to let out a squeal of surprise as he immediately dove on top of you, letting out a relieved groan as he was finally able to connect his lips with yours. “I didn’t know how much more of that movie I could take.” He mumbled.

The kiss started out slow and sensual but quickly intensified, his tongue swiping into your mouth as his hands slipped under your shirt, kneading the soft flesh of your sides as they crept higher, making you shiver as you arched into his touch.

“Hobi.” You whined as his mouth left yours and trailed down your neck.

“Hmm? What is it, Pretty Baby?” He said softly, nipping the underside of your jaw, making you shudder again.

You loved the way Hobi loved you, always so praising and reverent, treating your body as if it were a prized piece of art.

Feeling a sudden burst of confidence, you pushed him so he was sitting back against the back of the couch, swinging a leg over his lap to straddle him, earning a grunt of satisfaction from him as you looped your arms around his neck, reconnecting your lips with his.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy.” He groaned between kisses, letting out a choked moan as you rolled your hips against his experimentally.

“Hmm? What was that?” You asked teasingly, repeating the action and causing his hands to shoot up and grip your hips tightly, fingers dimpling the soft skin as he tried to urge your movements on.

“Don’t tease, please?” He whined.

“I’m not teasing, I’m just trying to make you feel good.” You said sweetly, leaning down to peck his lips as you continued your agonizingly slow pace. “Don’t you feel good?”

He nodded, closing his eyes as he tried desperately to concentrate.

“Bed, please.” He managed, breathing unsteadily.

“You wanna go to bed already?” You cooed, enjoying the sudden role reversal between you, admiring his already fucked out expression. “But we’ll miss the end of the movie.”

“Fuck the movie” He groaned, pupils blown wide as he looked up at you. “I’ll make you scream better than it ever could.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @ldysmfrst

[iheartjameshetfield]

this has been rotting my brain...

so imagine sucking James dick and while you're down there, he can tell how needy you're getting so he sticks out his boot and you end up riding his boot while sucking his dick

this is just so 🤭🤭

YES YES YES OMGHSHFJSGDJAHD

you’d be getting him off and his moans would drive you insane. seeing the way he just throws his head back, praising you, calling you sweet names as he tugs on your hair while you suck him off, it makes you even wetter.

when he delivers a particularly hard thrust into your mouth, you couldn’t hold back anymore. you started clenching your thighs, looking for any sort of relief but it was fruitless, making you whine over james’ cock. he finds humor in your neediness but after a while it’s just pitiful, the way you start grabbing on to him to find any sort of friction like a dog in heat.

he shifts his leg a little until his boot was right underneath your heat. you look up at him confusedly, your mouth still stuffed with his cock and the sight makes him twitch.

“jesus christ” he hisses before letting out a breathy moan. when he sees that you still don’t get the hint, he taps his foot. “there you go, pretty girl. you’ve earned it” he smiles reassuringly.

the second you understand what he means, you pounce at the chance to ride his boot while you keep sucking him off. the friction that his boot keeps making against your clit was causing you to whimper and whine around him as you try to reach your climax.

james needed to cum so bad. he could die right then and there a happy man just from seeing the way your mouth could barely take him all and the way you keep pathetically rutting against him.

you start crying, frustrated from the overstimulation on your clit, yet you can’t cum. james brings his thumb down to wipe your tears lovingly, but then he has a tight grip on your hair, using it as leverage as he mercilessly thrusts into your mouth like you’re nothing but a hole to him.

you feel his balls slapping against your chin, constantly gagging around him as you pitiably bounce on his boot. he tries to help you finish by tapping his boot against the ground, meeting your cunt halfway with your grinds.

“oh fuck, gonna cum in this pretty mouth, shit.”

with one last thrust into your mouth, he holds your head still, not even thinking about the possibility of you not being able to breath or choking around him. he cums deep into your throat as you practically suck him dry, your throat constantly restricting around him. he feels his dick in your throat as he strokes your neck, making you swallow every drop of cum in his system.

after what feels like forever, he finally pulls out of your mouth, making you gasp for air and cough. he doesn’t bother wiping your tears form your cheeks or cleaning up the cum and spit smeared around your mouth and chin.

“there you go, sweet girl, you got it” he pats the side of your cheek, telling you sweet words of encouragement to help you finish.

“i need to cum, james, please” you whine, tears streaming down your face.

“come on baby, you could do it.”

you grip onto his legs for leverage, helping you ride him faster. you pant as you feel your orgasm hit you suddenly. you bite down on his thigh, trying to be careful not to hurt him. you lay limp, resting your head against his thigh as you hug his leg, your chest heaving as you come down from your high. james strokes your hair lovingly, murmuring sweet praises.

“you did so good for me. atta girl” he smiles sweetly at you

oh my fucking god i will SCREAM I NEED THIS I NEED HIM