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ghoulbrain · 4 months

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Happiness is a Warm Gun

18+ 4.5k ghoul x f!reader. predator/prey roleplay, lite bondage lite cnc into enthusiastic consent, heavy gun kink/play, pet names, clothed/naked sex, creampie, aftercare. ends tender bc i can't help myself. gif credit. written for my darling @luckytiggertalia, who asked for excessive gun kink and captor/captive. thank you! 🖤 written as a successor to Saddle Up, Sweetheart, but can be read as a stand-alone.

Being in a relationship with the world’s most notorious bounty hunter lands you in some strange situations, but none stranger than those you concoct for yourselves. You run, and the Ghoul hunts you.

The Ghoul is one of the fiercest bounty hunters in New California, yet regardless of how terrifyingly efficient he is, everyone knows he only takes on payouts worthy of his time. With his long shadow stretching out across the west, most hunters are reluctant to take on bounties over a certain threshold, lest they accidentally come between him and his quarry.

Which, at this moment, just so happens to be you.

You’ve made it to a Red Rocket truck stop just half a mile west of Junktown. What was once a glorified gas station in a world long-gone now serves as little more than a hollowed out shell providing shade for all manner of miscreants and creatures wandering the dusty wastes, still decorated in tiny reminders of life before the war.

Crouched down behind a counter, your back pressed to the grime painted wall beneath a window, you spot a heavily aged cardboard carton labeled Grey Tortious Famous Cigarettes wedged at the very back of the second shelf behind the counter. Clicking your tongue softly, you reach for it, using the barrel of your pistol to catch the corner of the box. Carefully–and quietly–you drag it close enough to grab.

Your hopes aren’t high, but–

Jackpot.

Smiling faintly, you extract a crumpled but still half-full pack of cigarettes from the carton. You glance around, eyes wandering until you spot the decrepit remains of some poor bastard collapsed against the far wall, still garbed in their threadbare signature Red Rocket uniform. With a slight nod, you fish a single cap out of a small pouch on your belt and slide it onto the shelf.

“Pleasure doing business,” you murmur to the corpse, tucking the cigarettes carefully into the pack strapped to your thigh.

A shrill whistle, the kind you’d call a dog with, snaps your attention back to the moment. You press your back tight against the wall, sucking in a sharp breath to hold.

“Alright, darlin’, y’little goose-chase is over,” the Ghoul calls into the lot. Your heart begins to race. He sounds close. “I’m man enough to admit y’outfoxed me back at the yard, that was clever. But’cha got nowhere to slip to now,” he says, voice gradually growing louder. It’s not long before you can hear the crunch of his boots in the gravel.

You screw your eyes shut, steeling yourself with a silent breath before opening them again. He’ll have to circle the building to get where you are. The crunch of his boots is louder with each step. If he keeps yapping, it’ll be even easier to track the moment he moves out of eyesight of the window you’re hiding under, and you’ll be able to creep out to get behind him. Your grip on your pistol flexes, finger poised off the trigger.

The footsteps outside grow quiet enough that you can no longer hear them over the thundering of your heart. He hasn’t said anything, but you give it an extra few seconds to be safe, holding your breath as you gingerly lift out of your crouch, careful to keep your head beneath the window frame, eyes on the door across from you. Even if he sees you, you’ll have time enough to–

You’re jerked backwards suddenly by your jacket, a scream yanked out of you as you’re pulled against the window, knocking into it.

“There y’are,” he says through his teeth, hauling you up to your feet. Fuck, he faked you out with his steps. He holds you against the window, the edge of it biting into your back, his fist curled tightly in the collar of your jacket. “Give it up, darlin’. Y’all mine now,” he coos, his voice a sinister rasp at your ear.

Out of desperation, you drop your pistol and throw your arms up, slipping out of your jacket and stumbling forward onto your hands and knees. Your boots skid on the floor as you scramble to your feet, launching into a run. You look over your shoulder just in time to see him vaulting in through the window, scaring you into running faster.

Where you intend to run is a problem to be solved as you go.

Unfortunately for you, the Ghoul is a step ahead. Gunfire startles you halfway out of your skin, but it’s the sign that falls in your path that stops you in your tracks. You look up and see a woven cable swaying, frayed from where the crazy son of a bitch managed to shoot it clean apart. You gear up to bolt to the left, but it’s already too late. The tell-tale hiss of a rope whipping through the air is your only warning before the lasso tightens around your arms and sternum, one sharp yank pulling you off your feet and down onto your back.

The world spins. You let out a soft groan, moving to roll onto your side, but he keeps you from it with a hardy pull, gathering the rope in his hands as he walks to you.

The Ghoul lets out a low whistle, his shadow falling over you. “Close, but no cigar, sweetheart,” he drawls, crouching over you.

Disoriented, you stare at his upside down face. He’s got his head tilted, lips parted in a crooked sneer of a smile. His eyes are dark enough that you can see yourself in them, glinting with predatory glee. You can’t hide the trill of excitement that runs through you over being looked at like that. He clicks his tongue.

“N’aw, don’t you look plumb tuckered,” he says, voice laced with condescending sweetness. “No rest for the wicked, m’afraid,” he says, slipping his hands under your arms and hauling you up to your feet.

“You could’ve killed me,” you rasp, throat scorched by the dry desert air.

“Don’t be dramatic,” he deflects, amused. “Y’all in one piece, ‘ain’t’cha?” His breath is a warm tickle on your neck. With the rope tight across your sternum, arms pinned to your sides, he slides his gloved hand up your thigh, over your hip. His fingers tap along as he does, tickling your ribs, cupping your breast before sliding all the way up to your throat.

The barest hint of his lips brushes the spot just behind your ear, the feeling so faint you could have made it up entirely. You shiver, pulling sharply away, but he pulls you right back in, the worn leather of his glove soft around your neck, his grip firm.

“Mmhm, seem perfectly intact t’me,” he says, giving your throat a steadying squeeze. “No need t’put up a fight, angel. Y’comin’ with me either way.”

This time he presses his scarred lips properly to your skin, the feel of them warm and wet. Wanting. You swallow the lump in your throat, clench your thighs against the heat building between them.

“Let go of me,” you say, fighting to put conviction in it.

“No can do,” he says, his breath prickling goosebumps from your scalp to your thighs. “I’ve struck the motherlode with you.”

The rope is tied low and tight enough that you can’t elbow him or shoulder your way free. Impulsively, you move to kick at his leg, but he outmaneuvers you, catching your kick with his boot and spinning you around so suddenly you gasp.

“Oohh, y’ve got fire,” he says, lips pulled thin in a devilish smile. “I’m gonna enjoy breakin’ you.” Something hard presses into your rib, and you don’t need to look down to know it’s the muzzle of his revolver. He draws the hammer back into place with a distinctive click.

“Why don’t you be a good li’l captive and mosey on ahead?” He says, turning you until the gun is pressed into your lower back. You suppress a shudder. That’s when the world suddenly goes black, the press of the gun briefly vanishing while fabric is pulled tight over your eyes.

Wherever he’s taking you, he wants it to be a surprise.

The Ghoul walks you at gunpoint. He keeps the rope between you taut, the barrel of his gun pressed firmly to your back. The venture there is quiet, your gait tense with anticipation. A sick little thrill runs through you every time he yanks the rope or gives you a deep jab with his gun. There’s pleasure in his voice when he tells you, “Mind your step, sweetness.”

He knows precisely the effect he has on you, even if it took him time and a half to believe it.

His knuckles dig into your back as his fingers hook over the rope, holding it like a harness as you descend a flight of stairs. He catches you when you stumble on the last step, but it still startles you.

“A warning would have been nice,” you say, turning your head blindly, angling to try and get any glimpse of your surroundings from beneath the blindfold.

“Apologies,” he drawls, not sounding very sorry at all. He nudges you forward with his gun. “I like watchin’ you struggle.”

“Yeah, you make that very–” A hard tug on the rope cuts you off and stops you in your tracks. The rope comes loose after that, full circulation returning to your hands in a rush that makes them tingle. The Ghoul’s steps resonate in the room–it sounds large, mostly empty–as he walks away from you. You stay still for a hesitant moment, head jerking at the sound of something scraping across the floor towards you.

“Awwh, ain’t you sweet, waitin’ for permission,” he says, making you flush. You quickly reach up and pull the blindfold from your eyes, blinking to adjust to the dimly lit room.

It looks like a cleared out storage facility of some kind, with cement support beams lined up in a row down the center of the room, the walls lined with ransacked steel shelving. There’s a wire frame bed braced against one of the beams, heaped haphazardly with some pillows and blankets.

The Ghoul sits on a rusty wrought iron chair in front of you, staring up from beneath the wide brim of his hat. From his thigh, he has his revolver fixed on you.

“Atta girl,” he says as the blindfold hits the ground. “Now take off the rest.”

The low resonance of his voice easily commands the room. You swallow the lump in your throat, glancing down the dark barrel of his gun. Biting your tongue to keep yourself from showing too much excitement, you hurriedly reach for your–

The gunshot is deafening in the echoing expanse of the room, drowning out your scream. Already high on your own anticipation, the shot of adrenaline that goes through you with the startle nearly knocks you off your feet.

His gun smokes in the wake of the shot that narrowly missed your reaching hand.

“Slow,” he tells you, cocking the hammer once again with his thumb.

The pound of your heart is rivaled only by the aching throb between your thighs. Breathing shallowly, you keep your eyes trained on him as you–slowly, this time–reach for your belt, pouches shifting as you unbuckle it. You lay it carefully on the ground, mindful of the treasures you acquired at the gas station, before you kick off each boot.

His gaze is heavy on you all the while, eyes dark and attentive to your every move. Your focus is on the tip of his gun, how it subtly follows along with your hands. You peel each layer off without taking your eyes from him, a shiver moving through you once your hands touch bare skin, purposefully sliding them down your hips, your legs, and then moving them slowly back up as you stand back up, stepping out of the garments pooled on the floor.

He tilts his gun sideways and beckons you forward with it, tipping his head back, dark eyes tracking your every move as you approach him. One at a time, he spreads his legs. “On y’knees, darlin’.” You obey, sinking down–slowly, he told you slow–onto your knees between his legs, bringing yourself to eye level with his gun. The cement floor feels harsh against your bare skin.

“Y’got my gun dirty runnin’ me out into the wastes like that,” he chides, leaning forward, pressing his gun to your sternum. With agonizing slowness, he drags the muzzle up through the valley between your breasts, to the notch beneath your throat, pressing into it briefly. He continues up, the metal cool against your burning skin, though not by much. He hooks the barrel under your chin and tips your head back.

“Clean it for me,” he says, pushing it between your lips.

While you open your mouth too readily for the game at hand, he doesn’t protest. The taste of the gun is bitter and metallic, but what strikes you most is the black powder residue. It’s charred with a sharp tang. A moan escapes you for the way he pushes it deeper, forcing your lips wider apart.

“Don’t be shy. Give ‘er a good spit shine, sweetheart,” he encourages, pulling the gun back only to push it deeper yet. You comply, welcoming the slide of it deeper, pressing your tongue into the grooves on the underside, your eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire. “Good,” he says, voice rough with the effect you’re having on him.

Hands braced on your own bare thighs, your nails bite dull little crescents into your skin. The rock of your body is entirely subconscious, your eyelids fluttering. It’s easy to lose yourself to the work at hand, to luxuriate in the weight of his gaze on you while he uses you, fucking your mouth with the full barrel of his gun. He’s so committed to the fantasy, you can’t help but buy into it wholly.

By the time he pulls the gun away your chin is spit slick and your tongue is tingling where you’d been pressing it to the barrel. He gives an appreciative whistle while inspecting the wet shine of his gun. “That’s better,” he says, gaze sliding to you. He stands, grabbing a thick handful of your hair to haul you up to your feet with him. The noise you make is humiliating. Needy. His answering grin is wicked.

“Time t’oil it,” he says, voice frayed at the edges. He doesn’t let that trace of impatience impact his movements any. He walks you to the bed with that same loose devil-may-care swagger, assured that he has all the time in the world to take you apart piece by piece.

The mattress’ metal coils groan with your weight as he tosses you onto the bed, standing at the edge of it. The bed stands taller than most, bringing your pelvis parallel to his when you’re on your knees. He grabs your thigh and yanks your ass up into the air, smoothing his hand over the swell of it. He gives a sharp little slap to your rear that wrings a gasp out of you. The way he smooths his leather clad hand over the smarting spot afterwards almost feels like an apology, even if he’s really just admiring his handiwork.

“Spread,” he orders simply. You do so eagerly, widening the splay of your knees, folding your arms to rest your head on. “Look at you,” he breathes with genuine wonder, gripping your ass cheek and holding it firm while he inspects you. You can already feel what he’s looking at, how wet you are from his teasing. “Y’fuckin’ drippin’ for me.”

A shiver rolls through your whole body at the feel of his gun against your inner thigh sliding slowly upwards. Your hips give a reflexive little buck at the first touch of that warm barrel against your soaked cunt, your clit throbbing so hard it aches. “Don’t move,” he tells you. He sounds wrecked. He moves it back and forth, teasing your clit with just the muzzle of it before drawing back, and your thighs tremble with the effort to keep yourself still when all you want is to chase that precious relief.

The hiss of his zipper is the most thrilling noise you’ve ever heard. The gun disappears from between your thighs.

“Up,” he tells you, taking a rough hold of your shoulder and yanking you upright before you have the chance to comply. He holds you still while he lines himself up, the familiar thick head of his cock grinding through the wet slide of you, the length of him rubbing from taint to clit. “Y’made this big mess just from suckin’ down my gun? Christ alive, darlin’. You’re somethin’ else,” he says through his teeth. The ruin in his voice makes it feel like praise, and that feels good.

Almost as good as the slow burn of his cock pushing into you, the sound of it obscenely loud and wet. You tip your head back against his shoulder and reach back over your own, grabbing at his coat, holding onto him for dear life while he sinks deeper and deeper, pulling you back until your bare ass falls flush against him. Feeling his clothing against your bare body intensifies that intoxicating feeling of vulnerability. Never in your life has the thrill of danger been safe to explore.

Not until him.

He gives you no time to adjust, thrusting almost as soon as he’s bottomed out.

“Fffuck,” you exhale, eyes screwed tightly shut. You start to lean forward, but he catches you by the throat, pinning you back against his chest at the same time he fires his gun, shocking your eyes wide open. Your body goes rigid, cunt seizing up so tightly around him he hisses out a breath.

“C’mon, little bunny,” he whispers in a vicious grit, pressing the still-warm muzzle firmly against your temple. “Bounce for me.” He cocks the hammer back, the smell of black powder filling your senses.

You nod fervently, lifting up on your knees and using the mattress to bounce yourself on his cock, gravity bringing you down into every one of his hard thrusts. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, sighing his pleasure in strained little sounds. His hand slides down your throat to your chest, cupping your breast and squeezing, thumbing your nipple until you shudder.

“Close,” you moan, fist twisting in the fabric of his coat, your other hand clutching the wrist of the hand he’s fondling you with. “Please.”

His only response is to slide his hand down further, fingers slipping between your thighs. His middle finger finds your clit first, the friction making your hips jerk out of rhythm. He persists, fingering your clit in smooth circles while he fucks you hard.

“Atta girl,” he murmurs, his breath hot and wet on your neck. “All that fight’s gone now, ain’t it? Just a needy li’l thing beggin’ t’cum.” You’re so close you’re starting to shake, breath caught in your throat. “Go on, angel. Lemme hear how pretty you can beg.”

His fingers slow enough that your ascension falters. “Please!” You rasp immediately, squeezing his wrist, begging in every way you know how to. “Please, m’so close, please make me cum, please,” you plead, voice pitchy, your thoughts empty of everything but pleasure. He’s fucking you hard, chasing his own release just as fervently.

Just like that his touch returns to full force, deftly working your clit until your pleasure crests and your pleas turn to cries. Your orgasm hits like an earthquake, a sudden eruption that renders you silent, your lips falling open on a noiseless scream. Your body locks up like a vice, euphoria turning your vision white and emptying your mind of all thought while pleasure cascades through you in hot liquid waves.

He doesn’t stop, though his thrusts slow. He fucks you deeply through your orgasm, savoring every quiver around his cock while he uses you. You don’t hear him come, but you feel it, the deep rush of heat that he empties into the core of you, his body going still against yours. Your whole body shudders and you exhale a broken little noise, dizzy from the magnitude of it all. Everything around you feels bleary, your vision fading in and out. For a moment, you feel as though you might float away from your body entirely, your consciousness barely holding on, but the feeling of him pressed against your back, holding you to him, grounds you.

He moves the gun from your temple and holsters it, adjusting his grip so that he can ease you down onto your stomach, slipping from between your legs. You pant hot puffs of air into the bedding, your vision blurry at the edges.

“Coop,” you call, signifying the end of your little game of pretend.

“M’right here,” he soothes, his bare hands upon you not a moment later. There’s a marked difference in the way he touches you now, a subtle tenderness that he’d forced out of his touch for the sake of play. You hadn’t realized how much you missed it until now, feeling it as if for the first time.

He slides into bed next to you, having shed his gloves, coat and bandolier. You find the strength to slip an arm around him, clinging despite the tremble in your limbs. The next several seconds–moments, maybe hours, you can’t be sure–pass by in a haze of touch.

He kisses your forehead, your nose, your lips. He makes you aware of your entire body, grounding you with sweeping touches to every part of your body. It’s an intoxicating intimacy that leaves you feeling warm and drunk, still hungry for more.

At some point Cooper gets the blanket over you, skirting his scarred fingers up and down your arm beneath it. The adrenaline crash that follows your orgasm is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, leaving you exhausted on a level beyond physical.

“Still with me?” Cooper asks after a time, fingertips tapping idle patterns on your skin as if to call you back to your body. “Mhm… Intense,” you say, the lone word slurred by your lazy tongue.

“Warned you,” he gives back, sounding nearly as ruined. His voice is deeper than usual, thoroughly frayed at the edges. It’s true, he had warned you that you were playing with fire. It’s unclear how much of that had been play, and how much was just him. Still, it had been… thrilling. Amazing. Everything you’d hoped it would be.

“How ‘bout it, darlin’, do I scare you yet?” He asks, making it sound like an inevitability. He must believe it is.

You sigh a low hum, pretending to give the matter great thought. “Mmm… Mm-mm. Not one little bit,” you say, the words hardly legible.

“Shucks,” he says simply, feigning something like disappointment.

“Why’re you so determined to scare me off?” You ask, adjusting where your head lay on his shoulder so that you can look up at him. You’ve grown accustomed to his unique silhouette, but more than that, you’ve started to figure out what it is that makes him handsome. He’s got a wide chin and a fine jawline, and on the rare occasions you see it, a charming smile.

Much of it is in his eyes. They never fail to make your heart stutter.

“A saner question would be why you’re so determined t’stay,” he counters, those very eyes dropping to meet yours. You can’t help but smile, which–as per usual–catches him just a touch off guard.

“I got a thing for pretty men,” you say, caught up in your own musings.

His expression flattens. “Very funny,” he says, and you realize he thinks you’re mocking him.

“Hey, I mean it. I was just thinking about how handsome you are,” you say, reaching up to touch his jaw.

“There’s a specific kind’a philia for finding corpses handsome, y’know,” he says, though in his afterglow the words lack their usual sharp cynicism. They come to him more like habit than anything else.

“You’re not a corpse, Cooper,” you tell him firmly, cupping his cheek in your palm. “You don’t need to keep living like one.”

He considers you in silence for a long moment. With the back of his knuckles, he brushes your cheek. There it is again; that deep sadness that sometimes appears in his eyes when he looks at you. As if he’s mourning something.

“What?” You whisper. “Why do you–”

He kisses you, swallowing the words clean off your lips. He takes your face between his hands and kisses you, kisses you, kisses you through your meager protests until your lips move with his and you sink back down into the warmth of it. He grows progressively more relentless with it, stealing your breath until you’re forced to break away, turning your head for air.

“You can’t kiss your way out of every–”

“I know,” he interrupts you, lifting his head to level you with a hard stare. “I know, alright? But it’ll come on my terms, in my time, yeah?”

You stare, pinned by the weight in his expression. After a beat, you nod, feeling dazed by both the onslaught and his words. It’s the only time he’s acknowledged that there is something, which you suppose is progress. “Okay,” you say softly, and then again more firmly, “Okay.”

His expression softens, taking in the look of you before he kisses you again. You reciprocate, pressing into his lips with the weight of your conviction, willing him to feel how much you really do mean it.

“Thank you for today,” you murmur, settling back down against him. “I never thought that I’d be able to… do something like that. And live,” you say, adding the last bit with a rueful smile. “I feel safe with you.”

You wait for some kind of dismissive or self-deprecating remark from him, or even a sly jab at you and your sanity, but neither come. You glance up and find him staring at you, thoughtful and–if your eyes don’t deceive you–a little sentimental.

“I don’t make promises,” he tells you, sounding resigned. “But for what it’s worth, I’d never want t’do somethin’ I thought might hurt you.”

“You’re sweet,” you say, that same sentimentality slipping into your own voice. If not a bit ominous.

“Not really,” he replies, adjusting against the bedding, his eyes falling shut. “Y’standards are just too low.”

You sigh, closing your eyes with an incredulous little smile. “Shut up.”

The two of you drift into comfortable silence, his fingers idly traipsing the contours of your body. It’s like he’s memorizing the feel of you, hyper-aware that these intimate moments together are stolen. You reciprocate, seeking out what bare skin you can with gentle brushes of your fingers. He’s never admitted as much, but you’ve long suspected he struggles with pain. He’s rarely ever unclothed, and sometimes you see him wince when he goes too long between hits of those vials.

Cooper started living on borrowed time long before he met you, but it doesn’t stop you from hoping that he might someday see something more permanent in you. With you.

In the meantime, you’ll make the most of every second.

#the ghoul #cooper howard #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x you #fallout fanfic #x reader #x reader smut #fem reader #my writing #smut

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toxicanonymity · 5 months

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THE WAX JOB

PAIRING: Bo Sinclair x f!reader WC: 1.3k words | MASTERLIST WARNINGS: I8+ Dark. Noncon/dubcon (captivity), you're into it, as usual with mine. sick & twisted use of wax. PIV, creampies, breeding, forced pregnancy, lactation, dark caretaking/mild dark fluff. Started as HCs. End note. NOTE: Inspired by the 30-second scene at 3:10.

Breeding you is something Bo must do, like a farm chore. He keeps you locked up in the basement and visits you at the end of each day. You're kept on a worn medical chair, similar to what you'd find in a dentist's office, but roomier. Each evening, you hear him roll the garage door down upstairs, and it makes your heart flutter. Within a few minutes, his heavy footsteps echo down the stairs, and the jingle of his belt unbuckling. Sometimes a groan of fatigue.

He stares you down hungrily as he approaches with slow steps, tan hand flexing as he rubs himself. His strong forearms are smeared with motor oil from working in the garage. He takes you to the bathroom and watches you go, then puts you back in the chair. Manhandles you if he has to. Sometimes he stops to take a polaroid.

He stands at the foot of the chair and lifts his trucker hat to wipe his brow with the back of his wrist, then pulls the hat down into place again. He takes off his boots and tight jeans, casually talking to himself about the day and how pretty you look.

He spreads your legs. You fall into a trance salivating over the shape in his boxer briefs as he climbs onto the chair with you. He shoves his underwear down under his balls, and holds his cock in his hand, squeezing it a few times as he ogles your body. Shame heats your face as you watch and yearn for his thick, veiny cock.

In the first days, he keeps you gagged the whole time, but once he sees how much you enjoy it, he wants to hear your pretty sounds.

He pulls your dress up over your tits - no panties. allowed. He wets his lips, and smiles darkly to himself at the sight of your glistening cunt.

As he notches himself at your entrance, sweat drips off his face. Your lips part as he begins to push in. He bottoms out with a groan. He stays there and twitches inside. Without moving yet, he mutters, "gonna be such a pretty mama," and runs his thumb over your lips.

He grunts as he fucks you, and each thrust shakes the chair and makes it squeak, echoing off the walls. Sometimes he's rough. Sometimes he's slow.

He braces a forearm above your head and his sweat wafts from the darkened pit of his uniform.

With your cunt spread open around his cock, your mouth falls open with a moan. A salty drop rolls down his chin and lands in your mouth.

After a minute, you begin to whimper and squirm as you approach your climax. The basement is dusty and humid and you're sweating.

"You're gonna cum for me now," he pants, and you spasm. "Yeah, cum for me, darlin'," he whispers darkly, and it sends you. Your hips lift, your body jerks, you moan as your walls choke his cock, and he chuckles, "good girl. . . That's my girl."

He becomes more vocal as he fucks you through it. Sighing, grunting, moaning, "Good g---oh, baby."

"Ugghh---Here we go, darlin'," he mutters as he nears his peak. He groans unrestrained as he bottoms out and pulses warmly, heat spreading deep in your cunt.

He stays all the way inside and with his face inches from yours, he admires your features. He gently wipes the sweat from your brow, then slowly thrusts again as his last spasms fade. "Mmm."

Once he pulls out, he adjusts the chair so your feet are up. He calls for Lester to bring dinner down. Bo feeds you a few bites, or let's Vincent do it. Sometimes he tells you a little about his day like you're not strapped down with your legs in the air.

And then, when Bo's hard again -- which isn't long -- he goes again. And again. Until you can't physically hold any more cum.

Once you're full of his seed, Bo dismounts the chair and calls for Vincent as he pulls his jeans back on. He doesn't buckle them.

-------------

Vincent comes in with an old paint can full of hot wax and stands by the chair like an assistant. He doesn't look at you. Your legs are raised again and bo spreads your thighs wide. "Good girl," he whispers, then mumbles to Vincent, "ain't she pretty?"

Vincent offers Bo a cloth. Bo braces a hand on your mound and wipes any spilled cum off your lips, getting them as dry as he can. He reassures himself, "that's okay," as he laments the lost seed.

Then, he dips his thumb in the hot wax and Vincent looks away.

Bo brings his thumb between your legs and applies the hot wax to your outer labia, one after the other. He uses his thumb to tuck your folds inside, and then he presses your outer lips together and holds them shut like a clam.

"Little more," he urges Vincent. He adjusts his left hand so two of his massive fingers are holding your cunt shut. Then he extends his right hand toward Vincent and dips two fingers into the hot wax and dribbles some on the outside. "Good," he mutters and Vincent steps away.

Still holding you shut, Bo brings his face between your legs and gently blows on the hot wax, helping it dry. He takes his time with this, and his eyes sparkle at his work. "Night sweetheart," he whispers to your cunt and plants a kiss on your mound, then one on your lower belly.

This continues until you're pregnant.

_____________

Once you're pregnant, they let you upstairs to celebrate and Lester makes a special cake. They give you a new dress.

All three of them darkly dote on you throughout your pregnancy. You're still locked up, but you're allowed upstairs with supervision.

Bo has Vincent make a wax cast of your torso every month and they're displayed throughout the main floor of the house on makeshift pedestals. Lester is the one who's responsible for making your food and taking care of your basic needs. He's polite and never tries anything.

Bo is obsessed with your pregnant body. He can't keep his hands off you. You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and he'd mad with lust.

Once your milk comes in, Bo tastes it every day. He pulls your dress up over your tits and suckles sloppily at your engorged tits.

He lets the sweet breastmilk run down over the curve of your belly and he licks it up. Once he's down there he can't resist eating you out, which makes him really hard. Sometimes he does it right after dinner, while you're still in the common area. You're laid back on a threadbare couch with your legs over his shoulders. He doesn't mind if Lester or Vincent see, although they normally don't stick around to watch.

Feasting between your legs, Bo feverishly takes his cock out with one hand as he keeps his other hand on your breast. He can't pull his mouth away until he's ready to shove himself into you. He runs his tip through your folds, then pushes into you. He fucks you slow and gentle.

He briefly sucks your tit again as he fucks you. He makes sure you cum, then when he's ready to do the same, his face hovers an inch from yours. He Looks in your eyes, then lowers his forehead to yours. He groans against the corner of his mouth, then kisses you on the lips as he cums. His lips break away with a moan, then he kisses you gently as he finishes.

He cleans you up, and lets you sleep in his bed.

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tagging @lunitawrites my breeding encourager

Inspired by the moment from the link and a terrible product concept - I'm haunted by Mensez Feminine Lipstick, but go have a laugh if you want. notice his logo looks like a ball sack. This man actually wants us to glue our lips shut during our period. If you have Qs about the logistics of this. Please ask that guy 💀

#bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair smut #house of wax #slasher smut #cw noncon #cw pregnancy #cw abuse #toxicanonymity ☠️#bo sinclair x you #slasher x you #slasher fucker

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sohighsohaii · 3 months

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APCA: First this one's on top, and then the other: ITZY(ft. a mystery Guest)

Series Masterlist

(Part 1 of the Itzy Arc: Ryujin, Yeji and Yuna's breaking is begun. Lia and Chaeryoung's breaking begins in the next part. Still not that much smut, I promise it comes soon)

TW! The aforementioned sexual exploitation, pretty much non-con, slight torture, drugging. (DO NOT READ IF NOT COMFORTABLE)

"Send her as soon as you can. She'll be instrumental." You say into the phone, hearing Aegis agree on the other side of the phone.

Hanging up, you looked around the room, ensuring the room was clear, before sighing. This was a part of your life you had hoped not to reignite. Before you joined the force, you had a...troubled past, with problematic habits and compulsions. All that was shed once you donned the uniform, but now, as you shed the uniform, you are also forced to go back to your problematic habits. You knew this was meant for the sake of ending the suffering. That's what you told yourself, you had to insist, because to end this suffering, countless idols had to suffer, and ultimately break. What's worse, it was going to be by your hand. You prayed that this would work, or else the demons you let back out of you would have been freed for naught, and there was no escape.

Hearing a knock on the door, you quickly recomposed yourself. "Come in." You say, a bespectacled man entered the room, his seemingly elegant and posh tone in stark contrast to his bulky build more akin to a wrestler than a noble as his voice would suggest.

"The preparations you've requested are in place."

"Very well, wait for me outside room 4, and enter when I call for you" You command, the man nodding, turning to walk out.

Turning to the table, you look through 4 cameras, your very own dollhouse.

In Camera 1, Shin Yuna sat on a huge bed, you would argue more extravagant then the room in her own dorm. She was clearly confused, looking around the room trying to find any traps, but no, it seemed like a normal bedroom, much more comfortable than the warehouse floor that she had found herself chained down to not too long ago. The only weird thing she had on was a chastity belt, but in her terrified state, she didn't question it. She would rather have it on than be defiled by some asshole. In your few recordings of Aegis' half assed attempted training of her, you knew you needed to play the long game with her.

In Camera 2, Lee Chaeryoung found herself caught in a spider's web, her hands and feet bound to a web of rope behind her, with her eyes impaired by a blindfold, completely naked except for a collar and leash, also a vibrator lightly stimulating her. She needed a more direct approach than Yuna, a perfect whirlwind of shock, terror and protectiveness.

In Cameras 3 and 4, there were two different rooms, though both rooms could see each other. In the first, Choi Lia, held in place by leather bounds, body locked in a kneeling position, hands locked behind her back, causing her tits to jut out. Her mouth was stuffed with a red ball gag, with a large shock collar around her neck, but her eyesight was not impaired, though she almost wished she was. She didn't know what to make of the sight before her.

Hwang Yeji and Shin Ryujin, on a seesaw, but one straight out of a shitty fetish film. Weirdly enough, you did by that from a porn set, well, then modified to suit what you needed it for. On both ends, laid a white silicone dildo, lined up to the honeypots of the two idols in distress, looking at each other in confusion and fear. These two were the ones you anticipated taking the longest, with the most fight. So you had to go the route of protectiveness but also, distrust. It was probably going to help break Lia too. The two idols were bound tightly, strapped securely to the seesaw.

from Putting on a face of a sadistic "master", you walked into the room, the two idols eyes immediately darting to you. You felt a wave of pity rush over you, a shameful rush of excitement too, but you had to push it down. Means to an end, you insisted "What the fuck do you want, bastard." Ryujin immediately spat out, causing you to shake your head animatedly. Pulling a remote out of your pocket, you flourished it in front of the two idols. Pressing a button, you could hear the muffled scream of Lia from behind you as the two idols screamed in fear. After an initial shock, Lia's body relaxed, though her body heaved from the pain, struggling to catch her breath. "What the fuck did you do to her you asshole!" Yeji shouted, as you sighed. Good lord. Another scream emerged from behind you, and you could see tear well up in Yeji's eyes, and fear flicker across Ryujin's face. "Now now girls, no need for name calling. We're here to play a game, and what is a game without some rules. Show some decorum, will you ladies?" You ask almost tauntingly. Realizing what you meant, the two of them held their tongue. They didn't want risk antagonizing you any further. "So, b-. you, what game are we playing?" Yeji asked, her voice almost a sneer. A little close, but you didn't want to hurt Lia too much, so you chose to ignore it. "We're playing a little game called, well, SeeSaw. I'm sure you've noticed the dildos underneath you. In a moment, once the game starts, it'll begin to vibrate, and rest assured my ladies, it'll only grow stronger as it goes." You explain. "That's not a game." Ryujin spat back. "How rude, interrupting me. I wasn't done. So, the game, Miss Shin, Miss Hwang, is a battle of trust, sacrifice, and endurance. Over the next 2 hours, you'll be competing over who orgasms the least. The winner is rewarded, and the loser will be swapped into the hot seat. As you can see, currently, Miss Choi is in the hot seat. Not only does your orgasms determine who wins, it also determines how well Miss Choi will enjoy the game. Whenever one of you orgasms, a shock will be delivered to Miss Choi. It's non fatal, that much I assure you, but I promise you it hurts more than a little." Behind you, you hear a muffled whimper, seeing Lia begin to cry. "So for Miss Choi's sake, I hope you two ladies are well trained. Now for the games element. You'll find in your hands, a remote. The top button sends your side of the seesaw up, and the bottom button sends your side of the seesaw down. Me personally, considering how close you girls are, I'm sure you girls will only be using the bottom button to save the other. However, if at any moment should you choose to grow competitive, the top button is always available for you to relieve yourself of the dildo. Don't fight each other though, sitting on it is probably better than constantly getting impaled by it." You run a hand down Yeji and Ryujin's thighs, lightly patting their pussies as they both lightly growled. "And if it serves as any motivation, this is the reward." You pulled a tablet out, showing them a live feed of Yuna's room. Yuna had made herself comfortable, body clad in a purple silk negligee, lying on the bed watching TV. "Winning has it's benefits." You remind the girls, as you moved to the two girls, shoving a ball gag into their mouths, covering their eyes with a blindfold. "The game begins in a minute. Godspeed ladies." You say Before you left the room, you decided to have some fun, walking up to Ryujin, leaning down as you ran a tongue across her puffy slit, and you could tell she was trying her best not to moan. That defiant look on her face. You had seen it many times before. And you've seen them all break before. Moving to Yeji, you did the same, though Yeji reacted much differently, your tongue illiciting a moan from the leader. You smirk, feeling your emotions overrun you as you lean in, nibbling on her nipples as you felt her contort. That was enough though. The game must begin, and the show must go on

You left the room, seeing the man from earlier. Fishing a controller out from your pocket, you hand it to him. "Let them control it first, maybe around 10 minutes, then, take control, just go crazy with it, make it akin to a seesaw. Up and down and up and down. Understood?" You say as you noticed a gleeful smile crack across his face. "How devious, sir. I understand. About Miss Choi?" He asked. Looking down to the control, you hesitated. "Go easy on her, I don't want her too tired to be broken." You give a quick excuse, which the man bought. You'd join them again in around an hour, but for now, you had to begin with Yuna and Chaeryoung. First, Yuna.

Going to Room 1, you picked up the tray of food left by the man earlier, then knocking on the door.

From behind the door, you heard Yuna hesitantly reply, "Come in."

Opening the door, you saw Yuna curl up under the blanket, not wanting to expose herself to this stranger. "Why am I here, where are my girls?" Yuna asked, slightly defiantly. This trick required some acting, well, it was close enough to the actual truth. "Please, let me explain, Miss Shin. I'm a business partner of the man who...did this to you. He knew I'm a big fan of you girls, and he offered for me to come and, well, sample you girls." Hearing that, Yuna instinctively pulled the blanket higher, inching away from you. "No, Miss Shin, I'm not here to do that, I assure you. I'm not involved in any of this, and suffice to say I was more than shocked to hear what was being done to you girls. I'm working on freeing you girls, but...it's complicated, the man is stubborn. For now, this is all I can give you girls. Comfortable housing, and no one touches you girls until this deal is finally done and I can set you girls free." You say, and you saw Yuna's doe eyes widen, and you could tell what she was thinking. Though a thousand questions swirled in her head, you knew the imperative question was, can I trust this man? "Are you telling the truth?" Yuna asked, and there, she was on the hook. "I promise you Miss Shin. I'l-" You began to say, but she quickly cut you off. "Yuna. You can call me Yuna." She said, with a hesitant but small smile. You felt your heart suddenly flutter, what was this? You couldn't afford to get softhearted in this mission. "Okay, Yuna, I promise you. I'll do what I can, as soon as I can. For now, all I can do is bring you your meals once in a while, maybe accompany you a little to help you pass the time. Well, other than the K Dramas. That was a weirdly hard sell to the man on top." You say, acting sheepish as Yuna let out a soft giggle, seemingly finding a small reprieve from this horror. Turning around, you took the tray you had brought in, opening it to reveal a pizza. Yuna hungrily grabbed at the Pizza, it must have been so long since she had last eaten proper food. "This is delicious" Yuna barely mumbled out, her words muffled by the pizza. You were glad you could bring happiness to her, but you were also secretly happy at your scheme going well. Unbeknownst to Yuna, the Pizza contained trace amounts of aphrodisiac. A small dose for the first day, but it'll slowly increase, driving her insane. As you sat with her, you allowed your fanboy side to come out, allowing Yuna to take her mind off her current situation. After around 30 minutes, Yuna had finished the pizza, and you received a message. She was on her way, you had to wrap it up. "I'm sorry Yuna, I have to go now. I told them to make sure they serve you and your groupmates good food, so eat up alright?" You shoot her a reassuring smile, and she hesitantly smiles back, before leaning toward you, leaving a kiss on your cheek. "I'll see you soon." She whispered.

Going back to your office, you saw a giant metal frame on wheels, the woman bound to it similar to how Chaeryoung was. Smiling in satisfaction, you took a moment, giving into desire as you leaned down, toying with the woman, a sudden burst of impulsiveness leading you to kneel down, shoving two fingers up her moist snatch as you roughly fingered her pussy, causing her body to thrash against the frame. Your fingers toyed with her till she finally came, squirting all over the floor. Coming back to your senses, you try to shake it off, slight shame overrunning you. You didn't want to take any pleasure from this.

Going into room 2, you saw Chaeryoung lightly panting, a light coat of sweat over her skin as she tried to stifle her arousal from the vibrator.

Setting up the woman you had brought in, you placed her right opposite to Chaeryoung, then moving to Chaeryoung, ripping her blindfold off.

As Chaeryoung's vision steadied, she could vaguely make out a figure who she assumed to be Ryujin, or Yuna maybe, but as her vision cleared, she almost screamed in terror.

Across from Chaeryoung, hung in a similar fashion, and in the same exact fashion, was her sister, Lee Chaeyeon.

#kpop smut #male reader #itzy smut #ryujin smut #yeji smut #lia smut #chaeryoung smut #yuna smut

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polarisbear · 6 months

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more dweebs (Very detailed image description below.)

a drawing of grian, ethoslab, tangotek, and smallishbeans. grian is in his season 10 fishing skin and the rest are in different outfits referencing their base themes.

grian is in his fishing skin looking very tired with his fishing rod swung over his shoulder and an ear pierced with a brassy fish hook. he’s a cod hybrid with fin-ears and a stubby tail. behind him blue snail is munching on some leaves.

etho is posing with a neck sheepishly behind his neck and the other resting on his bag. he’s in the postal uniform polo with a green, canadian maple-themed yukata loosely worn and slipping off his shoulder. he has fingerless gloves on under. he is wearing dark red pleated pants and light green heeled crocs. he has a black and red messenger bag with a trellis motif. etho is an arctic fox hybrid with brown legs and streaks through his hair. doodles below show what his paws look like under the crocs and one shows him posing with a note saying “ties up sleeves.” above him another note reads “streaks bc his winter coat is shedding.”

tango is posing confidently with a wrench. he is in the postal uniform polo, with chunky brown and orange gloves and boots, topped off with red, pinstriped overalls. one strap is not around his shoulder, and on the belt around the overalls they carry a small bag, a screwdriver, and a vial of redstone. he has on brown goggles with blue lenses. tango has fire for hair and pointed ears. above him there’s a doodle of the messenger bag that’s secured on his back. it shows how the orange straps tuck over the whole outfit and lead to a dark red and pinstripe blue bag with cog detailing.

joel is giving an indignant pose like he’s complaining. he is wearing a black undershirt that fades out into his light green claws, a pink kimono with only one sleeve of cherry blossom patterns, and a dark grey vest and cherry blossom-patterned obi tie it off. the vest has a cherry blossom crest on the back. joel also has on dark pink pants with a cherry blossom motif on the bottom and on his left arm there’s a bracer with a screen built in. crawling all over the undershirt there are cybernetic patterns connecting joel’s skin through to the undershirt. joel is a tanuki, hence why he has a leaf on his head. around joel are doodles showing the crest on the back of his vest and the pattern on the sleeve.

#hermitcraft #grian #ethoslab #tangotek #smallishbeans #art archive #image id in alt text #LORD okay another set done #i’ll post the mail team together at some point but i wonder if you can figure out what their uniform is :)#uhhhhh tanuki joel is Directly from #melloz heist #maybe i’ll make a doodle comic later #but bc etho is in such a warm biome his winter coat is shedding #so he’s a lil brown #didn’t draw it but the base of his tail is also brown #ik bird grian is popular #but i think a cod fishman fishing is way funnier #oh and the cherry blossom theme with joel is 1) cherry magic mountain and 2) lizzie pink :)

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cherubfae · 1 month

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better keep quiet || {l. kennedy x reader ft. ghostface}

what better way to test if your boyfriend can stay silent by sucking him off in the middle of a trial with a killer on the prowl? things do not go as planned.

tags: nsfw, smut, gn!afab! Resident Evil verse!reader, dubcon (just in case!!), descriptions of afab anatomy, degradation/namecalling (ghostie), forced blowjobs (ghostie), public acts of indecency, voyeurism (ghostie likes to watch), dry humping (Ghostie x reader), established relationship, slight ghostface x reader x leon, brief mentions of anal play, allusions to puppyboy!Leon, leon is a bit of a freak lmao he's def a closet perv, breeding kink (previous mentions about potentially having kids), Leon and reader are not good teammates x3, this got vulgar aaaaa

The Macmillan estate was vast, cluttered in useless machinery, old rusted tools, and many nooks and crannies for you and Leon to find a temporary safe haven in. The Ghostface had already successfully hooked an injured Meg, who had struggled enough to summon the Entity early, unfortunately, everyone knew they wouldn't make it in time to unhook her. Her sacrifice would soon be claimed by spindly inky spider-like legs. With one practically in the bag, the killer continued on his vicious pursuit of both Vittorio and Sable.

Crouched down into a squat with his back to the silent generator, Leon winces at the jingle of his belt, quickly unfastening the buckle and tugging down the zip. "Are you sure you can keep quiet?" The rookie teased. He looked smug, one dark brow raised, and his thumbs hooked into the loops of his uniform pants. The waistband of said pants sag around his hips, a sliver of skin revealed above his blue plaid boxers, looking oh so tantalizing.

Scoffing, you shoot him an incredulous look, unimpressed. "Leon, baby, every time one of the killers strikes you it sounds like you're practicing for a porno, you little masochist. This was your idea. Don't make me gag you." He knew full well you'd find whatever you could to shove in his mouth-- and he secretly hoped it would be the underwear you're currently wearing.

Whining, Leon's head dully thuds back against the generator. "Fuck, that doesn't sound half bad. Wanna try without first, baby, please. Promise I'll be your good boy." Giving you that signature grin you love so much, Leon easily swayed your opinion. He really was just like a puppy, always begging to be praised, and you were more than happy to oblige your boyfriend.

You missed all the toys you liked to use on him back home in Raccoon City. The way his ass stretched around the silver plug you oh so kindly fucked into him. Leon would just about die if any of his comrades ever found out that almost every night after his shift his partner was fucking his ass with a wolf-like tail butt plug or a pretty, glittery blue strap-on. He would never mention he had the ears, the studded collar, and the paw print gloves to match. All in an adoringly cute silvery-grey.

And when you weren't pounding into him? He had you folded in half beneath his strong body, ever so eager to prove just how much he's physically improved, humping into you in the deepest mating press possible. Never fully satisfied, much less satiated, unless you were dripping in his seed. He loveeeeed watching your hole clench with the absence of his dick, cum staining the sheets below. Like a doting, caring boyfriend, he'd push back all of his cum inside. You'd talked about it before. Maybe he wanted it to take this time.

You two were insatiable, like rabbits.

Now, trapped in this eternal purgatory, things were certainly no different. You two continued on as normal as you could in this hellscape. You thanked whatever god, probably the Entity, thank you were sent here with your boyfriend. True hell would be to never get to see one another again.

Deciding he is taking too long; you yank them down yourself. A gust of wind ripples across the ground, making the two of you shudder and huddle in even closer.

His erection is hard and hot, flushed red and thicker than your wrist, and visibly twitching in your grasp. You've barely touched him yet and already Leon gasps like he's close to cumming.

"Fuck, baby, need you. I need you, please." Leon begs, shuffling closer. He claims your mouth in a passionate kiss, parting with a heavy whine. Gently lowering you to rest between his legs, he parts your lips gently; always so sweet and kind to you. Tapping his cock against your lips, you open wide, tongue lolling out to lap at his tip. His moans are delicious and it's clear there was never any intention of him staying quiet. He'd already failed.

You take him in as far as you can go, swallowing around his head once he hits the back of your throat. His fingers curl around the back of your neck to keep you in place, idly toying with the ends of your hair. Too deep in your element, you fail to hear a rustling noise several feet away from you.

Leon, drunk on pleasure, snapped his head up. Through ashen blonde bangs he makes out the unmistakable shadowy outline of the Ghostface's shroud billowing in the wind. Although straining, he can hear the muffled, heavy breathing rasp from behind the killer's mask. Yet, the cloaked murderer makes no move to stop for the couple.

Narrowing his eyes, he watches Ghostface with confusion. Watches as the killer sheaths his knife into the ground with a dull thud. Despite the distance, Leon doesn't miss the jerking motion Ghostface does with his hand now between his crouched legs.

Leon's hand cards through your hair, stroking the silken strands lovingly. A gasp catches in his throat when your eyes tilt up, peering at him through your lashes, with your mouth full of his thick cock.

Smirking, he caressed your cheek. "We've got an audience, love. The Ghostface," he hummed. "But he's not trying to attack us. Guess he likes watching my pretty baby suck their boyfriend's dick." He gently taps your cheek, a signal to continue. "Whaddya say, wanna give him a better look? Want him to touch you? Yeah? Atta baby." Leon waves his hand. "Go ahead then, Mr. Ghostface. Do what you will."

Now you hear it. The uneven, raspy breathing. The crunching of heavy boots on dead grass, the cracking of twigs as the predator creeped ever closer. There was the undeniable scent of steel, of faint cologne, and the tang of copper. Blood.

Heat pools in your abdomen at the lewdness of this whole scenario. There was something undeniably sexy that both your boyfriend and some masked stranger, a serial killer, were getting off to such a display of indecency.

A gloved hand, sleek against your soft hair, roughly pushes your head down forcing you to take Leon to the back of your throat; Leon crying out in ecstasy. You gasp and gag, sputtering and coughing around the length, your nose buried in Leon's pubic hair. Unable to look to see what's happening, you do what you can to focus on pleasing your boyfriend. The strong hand on your hand is a heavy reminder that the roles have now been switched.

Something warm and hard pressed at your ass. It didn't take you too long to guess as to what it may be. A second later, you're being pushed tightly into Leon's chest, your hips harshly gripped between gloved hands as Ghostface drags his bare, flushed cock along the seam of your jean shorts. He's long and thick, that much is evident, with every drag of his cock along your clothed cunt. Precum clings to the light blue fabric, staining it.

Ghostface humps his cock at your backside like a mutt breeding a bitch. His larger frame has you caged between the two males, thighs pinning yours in place and gloved hands groping any skin he can touch. You yelp as Leon's cock falls out of your mouth with a wet pop. Spit and saliva connect the two. You wrap your hand around him, sticking out your tongue to lap at his head moaning low.

Slipping his hand beneath your waistband he alternates from grinding his gloved fingers along your slit and grabbing a handful of your tits. The texture was rough. It rubbed your skin raw, massaging your velvet walls in such a way that you saw stars. You didn't care how fucked out you looked anymore, you rode Danny's fingers eagerly.

"Suck his dick like a good little whore," came the raw, deep voice of the Ghostface. "You like your mouth being used as his little fuck hole, don't you, sweetheart?" Feigning sweetness, the killer cards his fingers through your hair. Tears prick your eyes, but fuck, it was so hot. It felt so fucking sexy to be used like this.

Gripping you at the scalp, Ghostface roughly forces you to bob your head up and down on Leon's cock. Your boyfriend frantically tries to give you some semblance of peace and security by gripping and massaging your shoulders with his warm hands. His eyes squeeze tight, rapidly inhaling and exhaling.

"F-fuck! I'm gonna cum!" Leon yelps, hips gyrating. Borderline fucking your throat with every hump of his hips to your face. He hoped you would forgive him. It felt too damn good to stop now.

Ghostface cackled, forcing you back down. His large hand greatly obscures the back of your neck. He holds you in place, all the while laughing at your tear-stained face desperately trying to swallow down all of the rookie's cum; white essence spilling out of your mouth as you're overfilled.

"Such a slutty, slutty little mess, hmm?" Ghostface grumbled. He yanks you off Leon's dick, forcing you to face him. Leon instinctively wraps his strong arms around your tummy. Ghostface kicks your legs apart to crouch between them. His leaking, bare cock now visible with his shroud hiked up to his waist. Long, hard and visibly throbbing for attention. He cups at your sex, mocking your pathetic whine. "Think you can fit two dicks in there, sweetheart? Whaddya say, rookie cop? Feel like sharing?" As if Leon had any choice.

Collecting the cum trickling down your chin, Ghostface pushes two leather-clad fingers into your mouth. The digits press down on your tongue, noisily slurping on them. Red eyes, as red as blood, stare down at your wanton expression with faux kindness. There is only sadistic mockery in his tone. "Show us your hole, then, sweets. I think it's time I deserved a treat. I'll go easy on ya. I'd hate to make Kennedy pissy." He hissed, his hand going to his cock, jerking himself directly over you. "Unless you'd rather be hooked?"

|| please don't repost, reuse, or edit my works in any way! I do not give permission. Tumblr is the only site where I post. All characters belong to their rightful owner and the story belongs to me © CHERUBFAE 2024 ||

#dead by daylight x reader #dbd imagines #dead by daylight imagines #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #dbd leon x reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface x reader x leon #dbd smut #resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy smut #cherubfae 2024

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bits-and-babs · 1 year

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𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆, 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 — 𝐊𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆

synopsis : könig’s job affords him an air of authority and power that few other professions can. an admission that you find this particularly attractive piques his interest.

pairing : könig x f!civilian!reader (‘perle’)

warnings : 18+ mdni. gun kink!!! this is zero plot, 100% filth, i got a little carried away- gun in mouth. könig is flirty and cheeky because he is, damn it. domxsub dynamics, praise kink, fingering, oral sex (m receiving). size kink, degradation kink, uniform kink all present if you really squint.

könig masterlist ୨୧ main masterlist ୨୧ join taglist ୨୧ ask

Forest green eyes gaze at you through a black, threadbare veil, an eyebrow arching in silent query. Despite the draped cloth obscuring his expression, you can imagine he's smirking, the edge of his lips pulling up as he grapples with your admission. Pride and self-satisfaction roll off König's massive shoulders in waves, though the sheer immensity of his frame makes it feel far more like an avalanche.

"You like my uniform?" He repeats your admittance, his thick accent lilting in amusement. It's mortifying, you think, to let König into your mind and show the elite soldier just how much he affects you.

You'd hate to seem disrespectful, to reduce his valorous job to some kind of uniform kink-

"Schatzi?" König pushes gently, watching you squirm under his interrogation from across the room. Chewing on your lip, you note how it smarts slightly, tender from worrying it with your teeth.

"Mhm- It's more... That I like it on you." The confession makes you cringe internally, expecting König to laugh or reduce your fantasy to that of a 'civvy stereotype'.

König appears momentarily caught off guard. You see both dark eyebrows arch in mild surprise before a sort of realisation and subsequent amusement settle into those viridescent irises.

"You mean I am special?" He muses, setting towards you ever so slowly. For such a hulking mass of man, König moves stealthily, delicate footwork almost inaudible. "Not just any soldier?"

"No!" You insist instantly, cheeks heating up under his inquisitive gaze, "No... It's just you- Just you in the uniform."

König hums softly, a sound of acknowledgement as he advances towards you slowly. The intimidation you feel drips down your spine and settles in the pit of your stomach. He's not as threatening as a lion, with brute force and indiscriminate power. No, he reminds you of a hyena, cunning and wily. The knowing look in his eye only adds to the feeling that he's up to something, and your heart thumps in your chest when he continues to search your expression.

"Tell me. What about the uniform do you like so?" He urges you to detail your desires. You're beginning to wish you'd never mentioned anything because König looks like he's dangling bait between your eyes to coax you into a trap.

"Uhm," you fumble for an answer, those lush eyes calmly studying your trembling frame. When you drag your eyes over König’s body for an answer, you observe the strain of his shirt buttons and the revolver holster strapped to his thigh. He's sown extra length to the leather ties with scraps from a belt, standard military equipment far too small for his tremendous frame.

"I like- The way it fits you? The power, the guns, an-"

"The guns?" He wonders aloud, but there's a sly inflection to his question, guileful. Swallowing thickly, you wonder if you've overstepped a mark, opening and closing your mouth like a witless fish as you attempt to piece together some kind of backtrack-

"You understand their danger, of course?" König quizzes rhetorically, seemingly sated by your vehement nod, "You think they look good? Then... I am willing to share a glimpse of one. That is, if you continue to be so open and honest with me."

It's an odd sensation, the feeling of your blood running cold but the pit of your stomach burning hot with arousal. König doesn't even give you a moment to dispute, halting his advancing footsteps and deciding instead to revert, putting distance between you and taking a seat.

"K- König-" You want to ask him to tell you what he has planned, but the words wither on your tongue when you see him draw the stainless steel revolver from its holster. It glints in the fluorescent lighting above your head, coaxing you forward. It's as though he's pushed cotton between your lips, drying your mouth.

"Perle," he copies you, shifting his hips forward in the seat and slowly letting his colossal thighs part. From here, his eyes look darker, his pupils swallowing his irises as he drops his hand and places the revolver in his lap. "Come take a look."

It cracks up the length of your spine, sparking white hot and burning in your cheeks. W-What? You let out a nervous giggle, stepping forward to begin your approach.

König doesn't seem to like it, though. He tilts his head in silent warning, and you stop dead in your tracks. He told you-

"Crawl for me, Liebchen," König murmurs, resting his bicep against the seat's headrest. Every inch of his body is relaxed, muscles lazy as his eyes drag across the length of his body. You're almost certain you can feel their path across your skin, leaving burning embers in their wake. God, it's genuinely pathetic; how quickly you fall to your knees.

The intensity of his gaze bores into you as you settle on your hand and knees. Embarrassment no longer controls you, your arousal overriding any possible humiliation as you crawl across the floor towards him. König's eyes are an open book, pleased and proud of your willingness to take orders–– it encourages you, prompting you to put a slight sway to your hips.

You'd have to be blind to notice it; the generous length bobbing and straining against the khaki trousers. Despite his obvious discomfort, König does nothing to satiate his arousal, focusing all his attention on you alone when you finally kneel between his feet.

"Mein kleiner Schatz," the purr rumbles in his chest as König reaches forward, stroking the barrel of the gun across your cheekbone. The chromed steel is cold, chilling your skin and breaking goosebumps across your arms. "You look so pretty like this."

Anticipation prickles down your spine, whimpering softly. You lean into König's touch, turning towards the pistol and pressing a kiss to the steel barrel. You see the flicker of arousal in König's green eyes and how his eyelids grow heavy.

"Scheiße, you like that?" he groans, dragging the nose of the gun across your lips like the bullet of a lipstick. "My weapon big enough for my girl?" He smirks when you nod, looking up at your lover through your lashes.

It's downright vulgar, utterly disgusting, but you can't help yourself anymore. The way König looks down at you with this look in his eyes, like he could swallow you whole, makes arousal curl so hot and thick in your stomach that you can't deny your throbbing clit any longer. Sliding your fingers underneath your waistband, you rub small circles on your clit.

"Oh," König sighs, watching as you let out a gasp of relief. The breath expels from your lungs hot and heavy, misting up the reflective steel surface of the revolver. "Look at you, Perle. Share with me; I want to watch."

Fumbling with the buttons on your pants, you desperately work out of them and yank them over your hips, panties and all. The searing gaze above you settles on your pussy as you play with your clit, adding to the bliss that sparks across your skin.

"Mhmm," König hums again, like you've placed an exquisite meal before him. "All wet for me, Schatzi; it's all across your thighs."

You nod weakly, breath shuddering as you grind into your palm with a whimper. "P-Please-"

"Kiss the gun again, Perle. I'll make you feel good," he promised you, his voice thick and deep with his arousal. You nod thoughtlessly, far too overwhelmed by the need to feel his hands on you to deny his request. You press your lips to the barrel of the gun over and over, slowly and sensually, as though you were kissing his cock.

"Good girl," he praises, though his words catch in his throat when you take a leap. Opening your mouth, you bring the barrel tip between your teeth, looking up at König through your lashes and letting out a wanton moan.

Big mistake.

König uses the balls of his heels to skirt forward in the seat, his knees on either side of your head. He stares down at you, chest heaving as he leans down and pats your hip sharply.

"Stand up on your knees," he orders, the severity in his voice similar to how he speaks to his KorTac team. You can’t help but wonder if he gets a kick out of it too– some kind of power surge thanks to his promotion.

"Yes, colonel," you address him by his title as you rise, and König growls so deep and low that you're sure the floor rumbles beneath you. He works his massive hand over your own, taking control and slowing your fingers' ministrations to a maddeningly slow cycle.

"Such a good girl, Shatz," he coos, and once again, you can hear the smirk on his lips as he watches your body crumple with the wave of arousal his control shoots through you. "So receptive. Would you like it in your mouth?"

Whimpering softly, you look up at him in question. Was it safe? Well- Of course it wasn't safe; none of this was.

"Trust me," he urges you softly, finally replacing the swirling touch of your finger with his own. There's no escaping the drag of his fingerprint, the digit so much larger than your own.

You nod again, the blissful arousal so mind-numbing that it overrides your fear. Then, letting your jaw hang loose, your eyes practically roll back into your skull when König rests the barrel of the deadly weapon across your tongue.

"Hahh," König groans, sinking his fingers into your soaked cunt. You wail, body bracing and shuddering at the intrusion as his fingers alone stretch you out. "Is that good, Mein kleiner Schatz? Hmm? Does it feel cold in your mouth?"

You nod slightly, managing a quiet 'mhm-hm' to answer your Colonel vocally. Excitement blooms in your chest when you see it pleases him, his fingers sliding deeper into you while working your clit ever so slowly.

"Does it feel good, though?" He checks in with you, still adamant about your comfort despite his dominant role. You nod again.

"Good," he chuckles, staring down at you with such an intensity that you almost forget his eyes are green, his pupil dilated so much that they've practically devoured his verdant irises. It rocks you, another blissful wave of arousal sweeping from head to toe.

Wrapping your lips around the barrel, you allow yourself to get carried away even further. You hollow your cheeks, eyelashes fluttering as you put on the erotic display to work König up even more.

"Schei- Filthy girl!" You're unsure if he meant to scold you, but König sounds far too wrecked for it to land the way he intends. He rocks his fingers up inside of you suddenly, instantly finding your G-spot and working it ruthlessly. "Alway distracting me, making me lose my min..."

His words are drowning out as your heartbeat thuds against your sternum and in your ears, something sickly sweet and thick like molasses trickling through your veins as your orgasm begins to surge in your abdomen.

The squelching, wet sounds of König's fingers working in and out of your tight cunt are deafeningly loud, though, audible enough that they reach your ears even over the thumping of your heart and heavy gasps of breath. "K- König-"

"Can you take it deep in your throat for me, Mein Perle?" He asks, sounding utterly wrecked and haggard. Your vision blurs, but you definitely see the lurch of his cock in his khaki cargo trousers. "Please- Please, just for me-"

He doesn't need to ask you twice; his begging is interrupted by a filthy groan of your name when you easily take the barrel further down your throat to the point your upper lip could almost brush his thumb on the hammer of the gun.

"Hahhh, fuck!" König spits, watching tears well in your eyes at the stretch in your throat and cunt. He gently pulls the gun from your mouth, careful not to hurt you but knocking your teeth thanks to his trembling hand. "I'm making you cum, and then you'll do that to me, Shatz. Filthy girl-"

The moment the gun leaves your lips, König's fingers arch against your g-spot and his thumb circles your clit simultaneously. It's devastating, and you're barely able to hold yourself up as the ecstasy bursts through you brightly. It's as though a grenade has gone off, but it keeps building and building-

" König-... KönigKönigKo-ooh-" You squeak his name, his brutal, sniper precision knocking the oxygen from your lungs as your tears drip down your face. "I'm cummmmugh-!"

It’s like static in your ears and across your skin when it burns through you. It crackles across your nerve endings, arcs up your spine until you’re leaning back against it, arching your back as if attempting to escape the intensity of the ecstasy he draws from you. You want to scream his name, begging him to stop, to carry on, but the words drown among the wails and whines of bliss.

It feels like it goes on forever, your body suspended in euphoria and caged, grounded, only by König’s thighs.

When your vision straightens, your chest heaving violently, König's hands delicately push your hair from your face. He's careful with you in these moments, the vulnerable aftermath where your mind is drunk on hormones and your body is in shock from the extremity of your orgasm. There's no rush for your recovery; your lover lets you take all the time you need.

It's only when you manage to straighten yourself somewhat, shaky hands resting on his knees in a wordless show of readiness, that König nods his head.

"That's it, Schatzi," he whispers to you, holding his breath as he waits his turn anxiously.

Your mouth waters at the ruddy colour of his thick, veiny dick, and you lean forward to take the head into your mouth in a repeat of your actions earlier. König's hips jolt forward, grasping the arms of the chair with a white-knuckle grip at the vibrations that rock down his shaft when you hum around him.

"Oh- Oh fuck-!" He chokes out when you gently graze your teeth over the sensitive, velvety head, just as you did the gun barrel. You see König's eyes roll back, and one of his eyebrows arches as the sensation takes over. He's twitching in your mouth already, salty precum dribbling down the arch of his cock and spilling onto your tongue.

You take your tantalising time, kissing at the head of his dick once more before slowwwly easing him into your wet, hot mouth. König's gasps of bliss are pathetic, the imposing man reduced to a clammy mess of whimpers and keens of your name. It's so simple to work him up, the simple act of your palms smoothing across his thighs enough to get his cock jumping against your tongue.

The warmth of your mouth around König's dick is too much for him, his head lolling back in the chair. You see him squeeze his eyes shut, bracing against the heaving of his chest and the slight rocks of his hips into your mouth.

Your hand finds his balls, gently trailing your nails over them, and König's hips suddenly jolt upwards. He slips deep, tip knocking the back of your throat and catching you off guard in a gag.

Pulling back, you squeeze his knees tight and take a deep breath.

"Oh fuck- I'm sorry, I'm so sorry-" he apologises fervently, lifting his head like he's got weights tied to it, and it's far too heavy. He can't seem to hold it up straight, and it instantly falls back again with a spluttered wail when you shush him, wrapping your mouth around his cock and tracing his slit to taste his precum.

He's close already; you can tell by the way his dominant energy dissipates and his balls draw up tight. He’s completely forgotten the act he’d been putting on, his revolver discarded on the beside you and desperate pines of your name falling from his lips.

"Scheiße," he gasps, the wooden arms of the chair creaking beneath the pressure of his grip. "Ah, Sch- shhhh-"

Anticipating his orgasm, you sink heavily onto him, taking as much of his impossible length into your throat as possible. König's hands fly from the chair, grasping the hair on the crown of your head and holding you on his cock like he's terrified you'll withdraw.

“Ahah- Ah- Mein Perl- fuck!”

He cums with a lurch of his dick, a pathetic, trembling whine spilling from his lips as you swallow it down, the walls of your throat tightening around him. Ragged gasps of breath reach your ears, and your clit burns with the need for attention yet again as you continue to milk König. There's so much of him-

Suddenly, he's using his grip on your hair to pull you off, and he slips from your lips with a wet, audible pop. You look up at his languid body sprawled in the chair, wiping his wetness from your chin.

"Hah, Schatz…” he watches you, eyelids heavy with exhaustion, "You are too good to me."

You shake your head gently, still sitting on your knees as you rest your head in his lap. They're aching after holding your weight for so long on such a hard floor, but you'll gladly take the bruises as a medal for your hard, valiant work.

His hands immediately find your hair with a much softer, kinder touch, brushing through the threads and skirting his fingertips over your scalp. "No. I just want to show my appreciation for my heroic soldier, remember?"

A soft, tired chuckle shakes his body, and you can't help the smile that splits your lips as a response. "Ah, of course. I remember. 'Not like others in uniform'."

"You're not," you insist gently, closing your eyes as he brushes his battle-calloused knuckles across your cheekbone, "None of them make the uniform look so sexy."

"Ah-hah! I knew it was the uniform!"

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sometimesanalice · 9 months

Text

Wildest Dreams (Part 2)

Summary: After meeting Bradley during Fleet Week, he shows you whether he is more of an officer or a gentleman in the bedroom. And while you haven’t been able to stop thinking about that night, you also hope he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, and Bradley in Summer Whites (minors dni)

(Author’s note: this was written as part of @laracrofted’s 1989(TV) Challenge! This a 2 Part series.)

You don’t remember finding your keys in your clutch.

Or the elevator ride up to your floor.

Or the winding hallway to reach your apartment.

What you do remember is the way his fingers toyed with the flimsy strings of the bows tied at the nape of your neck as you searched for your keys. You remember the heat in his eyes and the way they trailed over every inch of you as the too small lift climbed to your floor. You remember his lips on your neck and the way the embossed wallpaper that lined your hallway felt against your back.

And you already know you’ll never forget what it feels like to be pressed up against your door by Bradley Bradshaw and the way your world explodes into technicolor at the easy slide of his tongue against yours.

His hands can’t seem to stay in one place very long, like he wants to commit the shape of you to memory. You grip his shirt tightly as you try to pull his body even closer to yours. He moans his approval when you rock against his thigh, the thick fabric dragging against the soft skin between your legs.

His uniform has been driving you wild all night. And for as good as he looks in it you want it off. You want him naked. You want to know if he got his callsign for the reason you think he did.

Your hands trail down his chest, down his abs on a mission. You can feel the way he tenses under your palms as they move lower, lower. There’s no hesitation in the way you grasp and stroke him with one hand as you work to unbuckle his polished belt with the other.

Rooster groans into your mouth, the brim of his hat just grazing your temple, “You didn’t have me fooled for a second, I knew you weren’t a good girl.”

The way he says it makes it sound like it’s the best compliment in the world.

You feel his smile against your lips before he moves to take advantage of your amused laugh by dipping down and licking a line up your neck in a what that had your knees threatening to give out in your tall, sparkly heels.

Rooster’s hand slips under the short hem of your shiny dress. His mouth finds a spot underneath your ear that has you gasping as his thumbs slide under the waistband of your panties. He pulls away only to work them down your legs and watch as they puddle at your feet-

“What the fuck are those?”

“U-underwear?” The word comes out a stutter the moment Bradley starts moving his big hand slowly, purposely up, up, up the inside of your thigh.

The high-cut thong was something you’d purchased on a whim. The floral embroidery on the barely-there sheer mesh contrasted with the thin silky straps of the bright pink panties that had caught your eye right before you’d gone to check out with the set you’d bought as a gift for your friend’s Bachelorette party.

You always did enjoy a theme.

You’d barely felt them all night. That is, until you’d gotten in the cab with him, and then you were almost hyperaware of them and how wet they were getting. But pooled on the floor of your entryway, they look almost indecent.

“That’s some damn dental floss and you know it,” he rasps as his fingers find your clit. You suck in a sharp breath at the contact. His hot mouth returns back to that spot under your ear, “Now I’m mad at myself for not getting to see them on you.”

Your body erupts in goosebumps at the way the coarse hairs of his mustache feel against your skin. You’re so wet that his fingers have no problem sliding and circling and gliding over that sensitive part of you.

“You want me to put them back on for you?” you offer breathily, hips tilting forward trying to seek more of his touch.

“Don’t even think about it,” he states heatedly. Like he is personally victimized by even the idea of you putting a layer back on.

And then he sinks two thick fingers into you.

“Bradley,” you gasp, your hands flying up to clutch his biceps.

“Mhmm?”

“I-” Your words are lost to a keen when he flicks a thumbnail over your clit. It’s a little mean, but it has your toes curling and tensing in the most delicious way.

His firm thigh keeps you pinned open as he works you. His lips and tongue mapping out the areas that make you squirm and pant. Your whole body seizes when he teases you with the possibility of another one of his fingers.

“You what, pretty girl?” You can feel his smirk against your neck.

Oh, fuck him. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you. You’d be more annoyed at him if he wasn’t so good at it.

“I-I,” you try again, “I had-oh god, that feels good. Your hands.”

“Hands of a pilot,” he says, satisfied and smug, “I’ll be sure to pass along your compliments to the Department of Defense.”

Rooster’s eyes are molten with pride as he takes you in, from your kiss swollen lips to where the tendons of his forearm are shifting and flexing beneath sunkissed skin half hidden under the hem of your skirt.

He is frustratingly still so put together while you’re quaking against the door like a leaf in the breeze. You want to make him just as needy for your touch as you are for his, you can feel how hard he is pressed against you.

Your hand goes for his zipper, you’re only able to tug it down half way before Bradley catches you by the wrist and pins it above your head with a tsk.

“I had plans, Rooster,” you pant, finally are able to get out the words. You’ve never had a man make you feel this good this quickly, he’s picked up on every cue your body has given him. He’s got you teetering along that edge, but he’s still toying with you rather than sending you over it.

“And what were those again?” he hums teasingly, his thumb making infuriatingly featherlight circles against you, “Remind me what was on your agenda.”

Bradley doesn’t give you the chance to reply because he’s hooking his fingertips against you and dragging them against that spot inside of you that causes your head to fall back against your door with a gasp. He shows you just how well practiced in giving pleasure he is as he does it again and again and again.

You try to arch into his touch but his strong body pressed against you so securely that you can’t do anything more than take what he gives you. The short hem of your skirt is riding dangerously high, gathered and bunched between the two of you.

“You’re not playing fair,” you whine as he runs his teeth along the tendon of your neck, “I was going to suck your cock.”

“It’s all yours, baby. You just need to come for me first. I’ll even let you wear my cap as a reward.”

“Such a gentleman.”

“Damn straight,” he says before licking deep into your waiting mouth, “Now show me you can be a good girl and come on my fingers.”

You don’t get a chance to reply because Bradley’s thumb changes up the patterns it’s making on your clit making you cry out. There’s nothing teasing about his touch, he’s playing your body to pull exactly what he wants from it. His movements are controlled and precise even as you writhe against his hand.

When you come it’s with his name in your mouth as your orgasm coasts over you in a whiskey wave. The heat and force of it radiating through your whole body from your fingertips to your toes. Bradley murmurs sweet words into your ear as shivers work their way down through your spine.

You’re still breathing hard when you flutter open your eyes just in time to see him pulling his shiny spit-slicked fingers from his mouth with a devastating smirk.

So pleased with himself, so damn handsome.

Not to be out done you kick away that hot pink thong and pull his face to yours seeking the taste of yourself from his mouth. He welcomes your tongue with a satisfied moan, his hungry hands running up your back to tug at one of the sets of ties on your dress.

“Nuh-uh,” you tut against his mouth as you push him up against your door, “It’s your turn, Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw.”

You’ve only managed to undo two of the little white buttons on his uniform, and while you’re dying to see more of his skin, the hard length of him against your stomach has your full attention.

Your knees only just skim the floor before he’s hauling you back up.

“Wait, wait. C’mere, baby,” Bradley says, his hands on your elbows, “Show me your bedroom and then I’ll let you have my cock.”

“‘Come on my fingers’, ‘show me your bedroom’,” you parrot back to him, stroking him through his pants, “You’re going to give me a complex if you don’t let me give you a blow job. I have a theory about your callsign and I need answers, Rooster.”

“You can, I promise,” he huffs a laugh, running his thumb under your bottom lip, “We’re skipping over a few things, let me be a little romantic with you before we smudge that lipstick up.”

You try to ignore the way your heart somersaults at his words and the affection in his eyes.

“It’s longwear,” you reply, with a cheeky half shrug, “But you’re certainly welcome to try.”

“We’ll see about that,” he smirks, dipping down a bit to get an arm underneath you and picking you up like it’s nothing. Your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you from your entryway and past your kitchen towards the open door on the right where your bedroom is, the lamp on your nightstand that you’d left on before leaving for the evening guiding the way.

“How is your hat still on?” you mutter before laving at the scars on his neck that had caught your eye earlier at the bar.

“How is your tiara still on?” he tosses back, leaning his head to the side to give you more access to the skin at the base of his throat.

“It’s a headband.”

“It’s cute.”

You pull away with a grin, “I knew you wanted to try it on. Big, strong, Naval aviator has an affinity for pretty shiny things.”

“Guilty as charged,” Rooster agrees. His hands run down the sides of your waist as he sets you down, his fingers stroking the material of your sparkling pink dress. “Where do you want me, baby?”

You don’t answer him, instead you press him back lightly until he takes the hint and sits on the side of your bed, legs wide so that you can step into the space between his thighs. He makes an enticing contrast of tan skin and white uniform against the pale blue of your comforter.

Holding Bradley’s heated gaze, you take the pristine white hat off of his head and set it on the nightstand next to you. The sight of his sunkissed curls is a treat you weren’t expecting to see and you can’t help but run your hands through his hair.

You take a minute to indulge in the feeling of his soft strands between your fingers as he leans into your touch. There’s a ribbon of desire that is still wrapped around the two of you, one that pulls tighter with every pass of your hands.

“Take your cock out,” you murmur.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says with a wink, his voice like rich espresso.

He’d gotten his way, now it was your turn.

You lean forward to kiss him, wet and deep, before finallyfinallyfinally sinking to your knees in front of him.

Rooster is all efficient hands and fingers as he unzips those dizzyingly snug pants the rest of the way down. You swear that smirk of his gets a little wider as he pulls his cock out for you.

You’re almost annoyed at how perfect it looks, at how big it is. But that feeling fades quicker than it came on at the pretty way his large hand fists and pumps himself. It makes your breath get caught in your throat as you watch.

And then he’s holding it out for you like an offering, “This what you wanted, sweetheart?”

You don’t shy away from his intense gaze as you flatten your tongue underneath him and obscenely lick up the length of him.

“Goddamn,” he says hoarsely, as he throws his head back.

You beam, pleased and preening, before you pull him fully into your mouth. That smirk is entirely wiped off his face and you can see the way his jaw is clenching and releasing as his face is angled up towards the ceiling. Your hand replaces his on his cock to stroke him in time with the bob of your head. He groans low and ragged at the twist of your wrist at the base of him as you swirl your tongue right underneath the firm ridge of his head.

You feel your Bridesmaid headband slide back on your head with all your enthusiastic movements, and it falls to the floor with a metallic clatter. You wait until he’s looking back at you before you hollow your cheeks as you draw his cock further into your mouth.

“Knew that smart mouth of yours was going to look so good around my cock. God, you’re so fucking pretty,” he says, running his thumb along your jaw, “That little pink dress of yours did a number on me, I couldn’t stop looking at you.”

Bradley’s pretty praise and compliments goes straight to your head, like a rush of bubbles from a freshly popped bottle of champagne. You like the way he is gazing at you- his eyelids heavy but his eyes greedy- and the way he looks sitting on your bed, his presence filling the space of your room.

“If you like it so much I can tell you where I got it from,” you tease, “Don’t think they’d have your size though.” You treat him with another long lick, taking a moment to catch your breath to work him in your hand. It slides easily over him with the mix of your spit and his pre-cum.

“We both know how much I like pretty shiny things. I like seeing them on pretty girls, but I think I like seeing them on the floor even more.”

Rooster reaches out to slide his hand up the valley of your breasts and up around your neck to the back of your dress where the duo of bows of the halter top are still tied and starts tug on the ends of them.

You run your fingernail gently along the underside of his cock, smirking to yourself when it jerks in your hand. You take the tip of him between your lips, flicking him with your tongue as you let him work on the bows.

“Jesus, what kind of knots did you tie on this thing,” he grunts, still pulling on the thin pink strings.

“I thought you Navy men were supposed to be excellent with knots,” you say with a laugh, moving your hair aside so that he can see better.

“I fly planes that land on ships, the only knots I’m tying are the ones on my boots.”

“Well now, that’s a shame,” you say with a sigh, blinking up at him with your best doe eyes. You give him a couple more slow pumps and watch with pleasure as his eyes flare with heat as he catches on to your meaning.

The way he moans your name sounds like both a curse and a prayer.

You pull away from him and sit back on your knees reaching up behind your neck. He watches you with rapt attention as you untie one and then the other. You hold it up with one hand at your collarbone and run the fingers of your other hand over the swells of your breasts before sliding it behind your back to release the final bow dancing along your mid-back.

And then you let go of the top.

It flutters down to your waist and you’re bared before him.

“Fuck me, knew you couldn’t be wearing a bra with that sexy little dress,” he groans as you pull him back into your mouth.

His fingers fly to your hair as you work to take him further and further into your mouth. It’s impossible to look away or close your eyes when his heady gaze is trained on you so intensely. He goes slack-jawed as you swallow around him, humming your approval to his reaction around his cock.

It’s easy to lose yourself to the rhythm of it. Of the staccato of his breath and sounds of satisfaction coming from in his broad chest. Of the weight of his cock pressed against your tongue.

Bradley’s thigh is taut and tense under your other hand with the strain of holding himself back. You are almost tempted to tell him to use your mouth how he wants, but there is something so exciting about having this man wrapped around your finger and at your mercy. He’s looking at you with such open want in his eyes that it makes that place low in your stomach spark with desire.

You pull off of him to drop a few open mouth kisses to the length of him. You look up at him from under your eyelashes, making sure you have his full attention when you use your tongue to trace along the thick vein on his shaft.

“How’s my lipstick holding up, Rooster?”

He barks a laugh, his smile wide and broad with amusement, “Hasn’t budged. Guess I’ll have to work harder to make a mess out of you then, huh?”

“I guess you will.” You shift forward like you mean to brush a kiss to his lips, but pull away with a mischievous smile right before his lips could meet yours. He groans and leans forward chasing after your mouth.

“C’mere, pretty girl,” Bradley says, hauling you up off of the cream-colored carpet of your floor. He hastily shoves your dress down the rest of the way down your hips and onto the floor before pulling you into his lap.

“But-” The words die in your throat as you whimper at the contact of your soaked cunt as it rubs up against his thick cock. Rooster runs his nose along the line of your neck as your hands tangle in his curls. He squeezes your ass with his hands encouraging you to continue your rock and grind against him.

When you tug him back up to your mouth, he goes willingly with a self-satisfied smile. You keen when your nipples catch against his nametag and the ribbons decorating his chest and you’re reminded that he’s not nearly naked enough for your liking.

“Why are you still dressed?” you huff, your insatiable hands roughly pulling at the buttons of his shirt, “If you were as interested in furthering those civilian-military relations as you claimed to be earlier, Sailor, you’d take that uniform off.”

“My apologies, ma’am,” he drawls, not sounding the least bit sorry, “Please allow me to show you just how committed I am to cultivating strong bonds with the local community at hand.”

And in a move so smooth and powerful, Bradley’s got you pinned to the bed. It doesn’t even register to you until he’s crowding into you, his head dipping down to drag his teeth over your peaked nipple. His large hand comes up to cup and massage your other one as he laves over you in broad and long strokes of his tongue.

He rolls against you teasingly and the way your thighs come up to bracket his hips is almost instinctive as you sink further into the cloud of your bed under his sturdy weight.

That mustache feels even better against your chest as it did against your neck when he had you pressed against your front door. But the drag of those damn buttons is impossible to ignore even as his hot mouth works its way down your sternum and stomach.

“Bradley.”

“Yeah, baby?” He nips at your hipbone as he strong-arms your thighs open further for his wide shoulders to settle under.

You’re so tired of feeling that sure-to-be-well-made fabric under your hands and against your body. You want to feel his skin against yours. You want his heat. You want to smell like the cedar and spearmint scent of his cologne.

He’s been derailing your plans since the moment you saw him enter the bar, but in this you will not be swayed, “If you’re not naked in the next ninety seconds, I swear I’m going to kick you out.”

“I can work with ninety,” he says with a toe curling glint in his eyes right before he licks into you.

The coarse hairs of his mustache against that most intimate part of you has you seeing not only stars, but entire galaxies. He slides his hand under your back to get you to arch further towards him. His tongue is relentless against your needy clit and when he sucks it has your hips canting right into his charming mouth.

“Can’t keep those hips on the bed, can you? Keep tryin’ to chase my mouth,” he smirks at your frustrated whine when he pulls away from you all too soon. He’s all lithe grace as he moves and stands up at the end of your bed.

You can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed. There’s no reason to be when he shoots you a wink so easy and playful and so endearingly cocky that you think you might just melt on the spot.

“Tick-tock, Lieutenant,” you say breathily as you sit up and lean back on your elbows.

“Now you’re just being difficult on purpose. That ok, baby, I think you’ll enjoy it when I fuck that attitude right out of you.”

“Promises, promises.”

You already know that lazy smile he’s wearing is going to take you down as he starts to undo the buttons of his uniform. He’s definitely past the ninety seconds you’d threatened him with, but there’s no way in hell you’re going to kick him out now.

Rooster does it slowly. One by one until he is shrugging it off his frame. He looks like sin standing there tall and broad with his belt dangling open and his cock hanging out proudly from the open fly of his formfitting pants.

“Oh, this is getting good now,” you muse, not unaffected by the increasingly unclothed man in front of you.

Feeling brave you bring your fingers down to your clit, teasing yourself lightly as he pulls his thin undershirt up and over his head. And finally, you get to see all of that bronzed skin on display. The sight of the smattering of chest hair between his full pecs and the ridges of his abs in the soft light of your nightstand lamp has your mouth watering at the sight in front of you.

“That’s it,” Bradley says lowly, his eyes glued to the shiny, slick part of you, “Show me how you like to touch yourself.”

You let your legs fall open wider for his gaze as you continue to touch yourself. Your heart hammers against your chest as you put yourself on display for him. As you show off for him. With every passing second your need for him ratchets up even higher. He gives himself a few pumps, his cock still shiny and wet from your mouth and pussy, before he’s shoving his pants down his thick thighs and kicking them off.

He works his way back up your bed and props himself against your tufted headboard and pulls you back into his lap. You sigh as you lean into him, your bare skin against his. At last. He feeds you his tongue as he tips up your head for a fevered kiss, his hands skimming up the length of your spine and into your hair as he commands your mouth with his.

“What’s it going to be, sweetheart?” he murmurs against your lips, “Do you want to be fucked by an officer? Or do you want me to be sweet with you? I’ll show you just how much of a gentleman I can be.”

A shiver works its way through your body and you feel the way his lips pull up at your response to his raspy voice and the sultry promise laced in his words. The night has been building up to this, the feeling of his hands in your hair and having his clothes on the floor in your room shouldn’t feel so right. But it does.

And if you’re only going to have this one night with him, you already know what you want. You knew it from the second he kissed you back at the bar.

You pull back just enough to lean over him to grab his hat off your nightstand. His hands flex on your hips when you set it on your own head. It’s heavier than you’d thought it would be and it tilts down your forehead a bit. Rooster tips it up for you and adjusts it, his eyes seeking an answer you have yet to give him.

“I want to be fucked by an officer, Lieutenant Commander,” you say, running your thumb down the divot of his chin.

You’ve never felt more powerful than you do at the sound of his wrecked groan.

“Grab that condom, baby,” Bradley’s voice is thick with need.

“Yes, sir,” you say cheekily, pulling open the drawer next to the bed.

You aren’t expecting the hand that connects with your ass or the sound of the sharp slap that seems to reverberate throughout your bedroom or the way it makes you even wetter than you already are.

The tequila and champagne from earlier wore off long ago, now you’re just drunk on him.

You pass him one of the gold foiled squares and watch as he rolls it on with ease as you hover above him on your knees. He’s got you so spun up in such a short amount of time, you’d know from the moment you saw him that he was trouble, you just didn’t realize at the time that he was going to be your kind of trouble.

He holds his cock in one hand and guides you onto it with his other hand heavy on your hip. You expect him to rock up into you, to give you both that air stealing bliss, instead your jaw drops open at the way he’s coaching you to sink onto him slowly, slowly, so so slowly.

It’s been awhile since you’ve taken something other than your fingers or one of the toys discreetly hidden in your bedside drawer and he has you whimpering as you stretch and spread around him. You can feel his want in every devastating touch, in every heated kiss. You cling to his shoulders to keep you from floating away.

“There we go. Nice and easy,” Rooster murmurs, watching the way his cock disappears into you, “Felt how tight you were around my fingers. I know ‘m big. You’re doing so good for me.”

He’s got a hand wrapped around the base of your neck and around your waist holding you there when your hips finally connect, keeping you from squirming as your body works to relax around him. Your pussy flutters around him at the sheer size of him.

You gasp in surprise as a shiver of an orgasm flurries through you unexpectedly.

“Goddamn,” he grunts, you can hear the relief in his voice as he continues to rock up into you gently pulling out more of those ripples from you.

He’s still holding you in place, controlling just how much of him you’re getting, his fingers are pressed tightly into your hipbones. His hair is a mess and his eyes are hungry. Bradley is flushed the prettiest shade of pink along his cheekbones and across his chest.

You’re about to tell him so when your eyes snag on a patch of scarred skin on his shoulder and you suddenly must know what it feels like under your tongue.

The second your seeking tongue glides over it Rooster’s hips jerk into you in a way that steals all the air from your lungs. You wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his neck as he does it again and again in smooth, measured strokes.

But it’s not enough. That whisper of an orgasm was nothing like you know it could be. It did nothing to take the edge off, all it did was make you more desperate for him.

He feels so solid beneath you that you need more of him. You start to roll your hips against him trying to get him to move faster, to fuck you in the way he promised he would.

“Oh, you wanna take the lead, huh? By all means,” Bradley says, putting his hands behind his head in a way that makes his biceps look massive, “C’mon, pretty girl, show me what you got.”

Not one to turn down a challenge, you reach behind you to brace your hands on his thick thighs and lean back. You’d show him alright.

Show him just how good you look wearing his hat. Show him just how good he looks buried in your cunt. Show him just how good he looks covered in your arousal. Show him just how good you look working his cock as you roll your hip and raise yourself up and down on him.

“Jesus, fuck. Look at you. Good girls don’t ride cock like that. Shit, you look so damn pretty. You feel so good like this, you’re taking me so well.”

His eyes are torn between watching your face and the way your breasts bounce and the way his hat on your head bobs in time with the rhythm you’ve set. The new angle has the pressure building up swiftly in your lower stomach. And it’s so good, but it’s not what you want. It’s not what you need.

“Stop being such a gentleman, Rooster. I thought you were going to fuck me,” you say, leaning forward and nipping at his bottom lip.

“Pretty sure I told you I was both,” he says tracing a finger down your soft stomach to your pussy, you shiver as he starts making tight circles on your clit, “But if you wanna be fucked, then you’re going to be fucked.”

Bradley shows you just how honed his body is in the way he pulls you off of him and onto your hands and knees in front of him. Your arms never had a chance at keeping you up when he roughly pushes into you. He grips your hips tightly forcing you to bend and arch up further to meet his powerful thrusts.

His hat topples off your head and onto the edge of the bed, where his next drive of him into you sends it dropping onto the floor.

“Tell me how much you like getting fucked by an officer, sweetheart, I want to hear it.”

“It’s good,” you moan into the crevice of your elbow, trying to muffle some of your whimpers.

“Just good? The way your pretty pussy is clinging to be, I’d say you’re feeling more than ‘good’,” he taunts, slapping your ass for good measure in a way that makes you jerk back against him.

“Just think there’s room for improvement, you’re so chatty for someone who could be fucking me harder.”

“Had to work you open before I could fuck you. This how you want it?” he snaps his hips harder and faster into you. You gasp at the sensation and clutch at the comforter beneath your hands.

“Yes, yes.”

The pace he sets is desperate, hungry, and unrelenting. When he skims a hand up your back, tangling it in your hair and tugs, you swear you’ve never made the sound that he pulls from you before.

Every time you adapt to rock and grind of his hips and start to thrust yourself back to meet him, to take him deeper, he changes up his tempo forcing you to only take what you’re given. His touch is so electric you feel like you could light up a whole city.

Your room is filled with the sounds of skin connecting on skin, of sharp breaths and shattered sighs and pitchy keens. The angle he pounding into you has the ridge of his cock rubbing against that spot that has you trembling and writhing beneath him.

“Oh fuck, fuck. Bradley. Please.” You’re babbling nonsense now and you know it, but you’re so, so close.

He knows it too because when he slides his hand around you to run his thumb over your aching clit you shatter around him with a choked sob into your arm. You don’t fight the waves of pleasure crashing over you, you let them pull you under.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” he rasps as you quake under his touch, “Good girl.”

His own hips start to stutter against you and his breathing starts to run ragged as he fucks into you. He is clutching your hips so tight you wouldn’t be surprised if you were wearing his fingerprints tomorrow. His groan as he comes is the best sound you’ve ever heard.

Somehow through the haze you realize that you’re not just smiling, you’re beaming.

Bradley is so perfectly heavy on top of you and so warm. You’re so thoroughly worn out and well fucked it’s all you can do to lay there with your eyes closed as you float in that post-orgasm bliss. You make a noise of disapproval when he pulls out of you.

“Gotta get rid of the condom, baby,” he says with a little laugh. You feel the bed shift as he makes his way to your bathroom, already missing the feeling of his body against you.

You know you should get up. Maybe take your makeup off or get some water, but you’re just so content. So satisfied. You’ve had a few one night stands before, but you’ve never felt so comfortable with someone before.

You hear Bradley’s steps get closer as he comes back into your bedroom, but the feel of a damp washcloth gliding up your thigh to the center of you takes you by surprise, “Oh, that’s warm.”

“Is it too warm?” he asks, pausing. You were lucky if your ex would hand you a tissue, so Bradley’s thoughtfulness makes something in your stomach flutter.

“’s nice. Thank you,” you sigh, arching into his tender touch.

You know you should take over, it’s too intimate of a gesture. You should, you should, you should. But you don’t. You let him clean you up while you will your heart to stop fluttering behind your ribs.

You’re pliant and boneless as he climbs back into your bed and pulls you against his chest. Your body shouldn’t fit so perfectly against his. It shouldn’t, it shouldn’t, it shouldn’t. But it does.

“You still with me?” Rooster teases lightly, brushing back some of the sweaty strands of your hair that were clinging to your forehead.

“Just resting up for round two.”

You feel his smile as he presses a kiss to your cheek, “Mmhm.”

Time slips away under the gentleness of his warm hands. Your breathing slows down to match the way he smooths his palm up and down along your spine. You don’t realize how close you are to sleep until he’s pulling you back from the wisps of slumber that were rising up to meet you.

“Do you want me to stay?” he asks quietly. You think you hear a string of hope threaded through his words.

It’s late, but not too late that he’d have a hard time finding an Uber or a cab to take him back to wherever home is for him, but you’re not quite ready to let go of him just yet.

“Yeah, you should stay,” you murmur into his chest.

You feel as he pulls up your comforter around the two of you. You nestle in even closer to him, draping your arm over his stomach and tucking your head under his chin. He reaches over you carefully and turns off the little lamp on your nightstand.

“Ok, I’ll stay.”

It doesn’t take long until the sound of Bradley’s steady breathing lulls you to sleep.

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is the way your body aches in the most pleasant of ways. You allow yourself to stretch luxuriously, your high thread count sheets skimming against your still naked body.

The second thing you notice is the sound of the shower running in your bathroom.

You’re glad to have this moment to yourself to grin madly into your pillow.

Because he stayed. He’s still here.

Once that rush of giddy energy works its way through the rest of your body, you get up to find your clutch with your phone in it and bring it back to bed with you. You shoot a text off to your best friend so that she doesn’t worry and get caught up on all the things you missed in the chaos that is the group chat. The amount of missed notifications are in the triple digits, you love to see girls supporting girls.

A few minutes later Rooster comes out of the bathroom with one of your fluffy white towels wrapped low around his hips. There’s still a part of you that still can’t believe last night even happened even as he stands in front of you, giving you a wide grin when he sees that you’re awake.

His hair is damp and the sight of those curls make you want to run your fingers through them again. Those muscles of his look even better in the morning light that is filtering through your blinds, you’re getting more than an eyeful of him.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Bradley says gesturing to the open bathroom door, “I wanted to sneak in a quick shower just in case. You seem like the type of girl who would know about her Third Amendment rights.”

“You never know, there’s still time,” you say with a coquettish little shrug and a Cheshire cat smile, “Although it seems rude to kick someone who made me come three times last night.”

“Four,” he says, the left side of his mouth ticking up a bit as he leans a hand on your dresser.

“Four?”

“Mmhm, four. I know what I felt.”

“Would you be up for reminding me how that fourth one went?” you ask, teasingly pulling the soft sheet down your body to sit up on your knees at the edge of your bed.

“Sure would, ma’am. Anything to solidify those civilian-military bonds,” Rooster says, strutting towards you.

He’s ducking down to greet you with a kiss when you stop him with a hand on his chest, “Wait, what time do you have to be back?”

You see that easy smile of his falter for just a moment, “18:30. Sorry that’s-”

“I know military time, Bradley,” you say with a smirk, toying with the loose knot of the towel. You do the math in your head, there’s still almost seven hours before he has to go. It’s an easy decision when you offer, “What do you say, Lieutenant, you want to spend the day with me?”

Rooster answers with an enthusiastic kiss and greedy hands that tell you everything you need to know. It doesn’t take long before you’re pushing off his towel, pulling him on top of you and getting tangled up with him again.

It only took you a few passes of his tongue to realize what he was spelling against your clit before he had you coming on his mouth.

L-I-E-U-T-E-N-A-N-T-C-O-M-M-A-N-D-E-R

And then after he reminds you of just how that fourth orgasm went, you set him up with some coffee in your kitchen as you go take a shower and get ready feeling entirely too weak in the knees for a man you’d just met.

You opt to skip the make-up and go fresh faced to have those extra minutes with him instead. Although you do end up finding a spot beneath your ear, a remnant from his mouth last night, that you do have to take a minute to conceal.

Swathed up in your silky robe, you sift through your closet looking for something to wear when your eyes catch on a different pink dress. There are other comfier, easier things you could wearbut it’s the tie on the mostly open back that seals the deal for you. You grin to yourself as you tug open the bow before pulling it on.

He lets out a low whistle when you emerge from your bedroom.

“I know it’s not sparkly, but I think it’ll do,” you joke, twisting your hips a bit so the material of your floral print ruffle sundress floats around your calves.

“It’ll more than do,” Bradley says, staring at you with the same open desire as you’d probably given him when he’d emerged from your bathroom wrapped in that towel.

You turn and look at him over your shoulder, “Do you mind tying this for me?”

You could easily tie it yourself, but it wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as having him do it for you.

“That ok?” he asks, his voice dropping a few notes lower as he fiddles with tying the flimsy straps in the back for you.

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Rooster.”

He drops a kiss to your shoulder when he’s done and then spins you so that you’re facing him.

“What about me? How do the Summer Whites measure up?” he asks, clearly fishing as he gestures to his uniform. It’s still white and pristine and surprisingly devoid of any wrinkles from the night it spent on the floor of your bedroom.

You give him a contemplative once over taking him in, “It’ll more than do. Although, you’re missing a little something.”

You walk over the island where you’d set his hat earlier so that it wasn’t forgotten on the floor in your bedroom and pick it up. He bends a little for your benefit as you place it on his head.

“Cute,” you say, adjusting it so it sits just right, “But I think I wore it better.”

“I think you did too,” Bradley says, tugging you in for a thorough kiss before he laces your fingers together, “You ready?”

“Yeah, let’s get this show on the road,” you say with a wink, repeating the same thing that you said back at the bar when you decided to take him home with you.

The first stop is to your favorite little café not too far away from your apartment. Coffee and food were very necessary after the way the two of you had worked each other out the night before.

Bradley had looked so cramped in your little VW Golf on the way over that you decided to ditch it there and walk around the area instead. The two of you popped in and out of the bookshops and plant shops and record stores that dotted the area. You were surprised to learn he had really great taste in music and ended up picking out a few new vinyl records to take home with you.

In line at the checkout, he’d plucked your credit card from your hand, nodding to the sign advertising the store’s military discount and whispered into your ear, “I won’t tell Uncle Sam if you don’t.”

A ten percent discount never felt so thrilling.

You caught more than a few men and women checking him out in his Summer Whites as you walked around. But you couldn’t blame them because he’d caught you checking him out more than once. But it wasn’t your fault that his ass was a revelation in those tight pants. And he clearly knew it.

When you see the marquee for the small theatre on this side of town that is known for playing the classics and art house films advertising a showing for State Fair you offhandedly mention how much you like that movie as you peek in the widow of one of the antique shops, and then next thing you know he checking his watch and pulling you with him to the box office window for tickets.

“If you don’t let me pay for something here soon, you’re going to give me a complex,” he complains when you stop him from pulling out the credit card that he has tucked in the pocket of his uniform.

“Sorry, Rooster, it’s still Fleet Week and rules are rules,” you joke, bumping him out of the way with your hip sliding your card to the attendant before he can argue with you any further.

“Baby, I need you to stop Richard Gere-ing me,” he says, taking the tickets and wrapping an arm around your waist then leading you in the building.

“Alas, they’re playing Pretty Woman today, but I think you have the potential to make a pretty Julia Roberts,” you tease him, “I’d bet red would look very fetching on you with those undertones.”

The pinch on your right butt cheek makes you jump, startled. You whirl to see if anyone caught him, but the lobby is fairly empty. You turn to send him a heatless glare, but his face is the picture of innocence.

You shake your head at him amused, “Ok, fine. Just for that I will allow you to buy me a small soda from the concession stand, Bradley.”

He looks very pleased ten minutes later when he’s carrying a large bucket of popcorn, three types of candy, and two giant cups of fizzing soda as you go to find your seats.

“So much for free Fleet Week drinks,” you tut, taking a sip of your drink.

“But I did get laid today, so I’ll call it a win,” he winks.

The two of you trade whispers as the lights go down and the music of the opening credits starts to play. You grin as you reach over for some popcorn and hear him humming along.

Just as Vivian Blaine starts strutting away from Dana Andrews, her hair bouncing vivaciously with each step, Rooster angles over, “Hey, that’s how your friend looked last night walking away from Hangman. He’s been harassing me all day to get you to give me your number so he can call her.”

You hold back the snicker that tries to escape your throat when he gets shushed by someone a few rows back, whispering even louder, “Sorry!”

You lean in closer, admiring the way half of his face is illuminated from the screen and confide, “Where do you think she learned it from?”

You and your best friend had taken the same film studies class in college and she tested out the move that night at the bars near campus with an almost perfect success rate. It’s been her go-to move ever since.

“No shit?”

“I’m serious,” you say with a giggle.

The shusher makes their displeasure known again and this time the both of you burst out laughing.

“We should probably go before they start throwing popcorn at us. I don’t think even with military grade detergent that you’d be able to get butter-flavored oil out of those Summer Whites.”

Bradley agrees readily and your heart flip-flops knowing that he’d rather be talking with you than sitting silently for the next two hours. He even tosses one of the boxes of candy to the shusher on the way out as an apology.

The two of you head to the beach instead, sitting on the sand and watching the waves. Tossing some of the popcorn kernels to hungry seagulls who approach. The two of you are both a little overdressed for it, but if anything, that makes it more fun.

You’re surprised at how easy it is to talk to him, to tease him. Surprised that he’s more than just a pretty face with a good body. The way he is so at-home and comfortable in his own skin makes you feel like you don’t have to try to be impressive, you can just be yourself.

As the sun sinks lower in the sky, you’re both increasingly aware there’s a ticking clock above your heads and that this has to come to an end soon. And far too soon you end up making your way back together to where you’d left your car a few blocks away from the café you’d taken him to for brunch.

“Do you need to drop by your place for your things?” you ask Rooster, toying with your car keys.

“I packed last night. I asked a friend who is shipping out with me to grab them for me,” he says, scrubbing a hand down the side of his face.

“Not Hangman?” You wonder fleetingly if your friend ended up caving and giving him her number or not.

“Not this time. Which I’m not too mad about since he snores.” You know he is trying to make you laugh, but you just press your lips together and nod.

“So I should head there.” It’s not a question. You know your time is up.

“You probably should,” he says, with a sigh and a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

It’s a quiet ride as he directs you to a public lot near the Naval Air Station where he says his friend Bob is going to meet the two of you, explaining that he doesn’t have the pass that would allow you to drop him off inside the gates.

There are a few cars in the lot, but he points out where you should park near an older, but well maintained Chevy truck. When you look over as you pull into the space a couple spots away a man in glasses waves, you don’t miss the two duffle bags that are in the second row of his cab.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Don’t leave yet, please,” Rooster says, unbuckling and getting out of your car. And for whatever reason, you do too.

You linger in front of your car as you wait for him to come back to you. You watch as his friend Bob passes him a pen and some paper, you can tell he’s trying to fill it out quickly based on the way his hand seems to be flying over it.

There’s an intensity to the way that Bradley walks back to you. Your feet are pinned to the asphalt beneath you as his eyes stay trained on you.

You both stand there nearly chest to chest just taking the other in.

He’s still too breathtaking for words in his uniform as the golden hour light makes the sun-streaked strand of his hair gleam like threads of gold. His eyes slowly run over your face and down the dress he’d carefully tied you in this morning.

If this is it, if this is all you’re ever going to get with him, this is how you want him to remember you. Standing in a nice dress and staring at the sunset.

He reaches out and cups your face in his warm hand.

“Say you’ll see me again,” he says, holding your gaze. You can see every color of brown reflected in his pretty eyes.

Your heart seizes in your chest, “Bradley, I-”

He lightly puts his thumb over your lips to stop you before you can finish.

“Listen, I really like you. But it wouldn’t be fair of me to ask you to wait for me, so I’m not going to.” You’re unprepared for the rock that sinks to the pit of your stomach. “What I’m going to do is give you this,” he says handing you the thin paper packet, “This has all the information you need to get on base if you wanted to meet me there in two months when I get back. They give it to all of us when we get our deployment papers mailed to us, I’ve just never had a reason to fill one out for anyone before.”

You hold it in your hands and look at it. The letters are slightly sloppy in that way that men seem to have. The sheet is filled out his full name, Bradley Nicholas Bradshaw, as well as what you assume is his military I.D. number and other crumbs of information about the handsome man standing in front of you.

And you’re reminded again, that you’ve only gotten to see just the tiniest sliver of him.

“Say you’ll see me again,” he repeats, quieter this time, “Even if it’s just pretend.”

You hear what he is really saying: lie to me, please.

His friend is waiting for him in his idling truck.

And Bradley is waiting on you.

But you feel like you’re out of time.

This was supposed to be one night.

One night, one moment.

So why does this feel so big? Like you were on the precipice of something monumental.

You haven’t even known him for twenty-four hours and yet you’ve never felt like this about anyone else before. The potential of him and of what this seemed like it could be was too good, too perfect. And it scares you. Because the reality of it could crush you if you let yourself give into it and he changed his mind. You don’t want to get swept up in a daydream or a flight of fancy.

What-ifs are just heart aches, not heart breaks.

You can’t give him what he wants, not right now. But you can’t lie to him either.

Even if you want to. Even if you’re dying to.

“Stay safe, Lieutenant Commander Bradley Rooster Bradshaw,” you say, softly not trusting your voice.

Bradley leans in and tips your chin up with a finger under your chin, your eyes flutter close and your breath catches in your chest when you feel his warm breath ghosting over your face. He brushes the softest kiss you’ve ever been given against your cheek. The sweetness of it melts against your skin like a snowflake, like a wish.

“I hope I see you again,” he murmurs, lips lingering.

And then he’s gone, taken away on a summer breeze.

Those two months had moved slower than you thought possible.

You’d learned that your best friend hadn’t been able to give Hangman her number when she’d ended up being the one to try and corral the gaggle of drunken bridesmaids at last call and shepherd them into the waiting cabs. Apparently, she’d tried to look for him but by the time she’d had a moment he’d already left.

That packet of paper you’d kept on your island had taken on a life of its own.

At your friend’s wedding, you’d stood off to the side in your intricately beaded bridesmaid dress watching on with a glass of champagne in your hand as she had her first dance with her new husband. And let yourself imagine what it might have felt like if he’d have been there too. The next day as you had nursed your hangover, you’d regretted indulging those thoughts in addition to drinking the full bottle of champagne you’d snuck away with.

It felt like you were just going through the motions. Like your head was somewhere else, with someone else.

The more you tried to talk yourself out of it and forget about how he’d made you feel, the more he chased you in your dreams.

All the hours you’d spent wondering about what-if you went, what-if you waited, what-if you met him there had led you to this moment here and now.

The drive had been made, the papers had been handed over and you were approved for entry, it was all happening.

You at Naval Air Station North Island wearing the same pink floral ruffle sundress that you had dropped him off in two months ago.

The smell of jet fuel and rubber mix with the ocean air as the planes start to land one by one and make the slow taxi along the long airstrip that leads to the ramp where they are to park. The perfect lines of them were just as immaculate on the ground as they were in the sky.

As more and more of them make their final descent, the more antsy the crowd of friends and families of the squadron members get. There’s an excited tension steadily building as they wait for the go-ahead to leave the hanger to greet the people they’ve been missing.

You can hear your heartbeat beating in your ears like a drum.

He’s here. He’s here. He’s here.

You hope you’re not making an idiot of yourself. You hope that he hasn’t forgotten you. You hope he remembers why he wanted you here in the first place. You hope he still wants you.

When the final engine of the final plane is turned off, the officer in charge announces that everyone is free to exit the hanger and another cheer goes out. This one much louder than before when the aviators had done the flyover in their faultless formations.

It’s a rush of people as they stream around you out of the domed arch of the hanger and onto the open tarmac under the cloudless blue sky.

The names on the planes had been clocked well in advance by their keen, anticipatory eyes. They know exactly which aircraft they’re heading to and who is going to be climbing out of that cockpit to greet them with equal enthusiasm.

You can see the beaming smiles, you can hear the giddy laughter.

Yet your feet stay stuck on that line between the cracked industrial cement floor and the sundrenched tarmac as you watch all those happy moments happen around you.

It’s the sound of a raspy, full bodied laugh that catches your ear and has your head whirling to the left.

And there he is.

Even from a distance the sight of Bradley Bradshaw has your heart fluttering in your chest.

You see him meeting up with a couple of other pilots with his helmet in hands. You recognized Bob by his glasses, but they’re joined by a fierce looking woman. Rooster is all smiles as she gives him a friendly, playful shove before slipping her hand into Bob’s.

There is nothing you want more than that smile of his to be directed at you.

You catch the way he seems to be checking over his shoulders and looking around to observe the joyful homecoming scenes unfolding around him.

It feels like half hope, half agony when you take that first step out of the shady hanger, onto the tarmac, and into the bright San Diego sun. There were still more than a few warm summer days to look forward to.

Summoning more courage, you take a few more tentative steps in Rooster’s direction. You feel like you’re holding your breath, waitingwaitingwaiting for him to look over and see you.

You’re noticed by his dark-haired female friend first, who nods her chin in your direction. You see the rise and fall of his shoulders as he takes a deep breath before he turns towards your direction and sees you for the first time in two months.

And for a moment, it’s just you and Bradley.

Across a crowded bar. Across a teeming tarmac.

His eyes locked on yours and yours locked on his.

That easy smile he’d already been wearing is transformed into a wide grin that lights up his whole face.

Your stomach swoops and your feet start moving like they have a mind of their own towards him. He hands his helmet to Bob before he’s taking long strides to meet you halfway. You’re almost toe-to-toe with him, but you stop a respectable half-step further away than you’d like to be.

The two of you are a little greedy in the way you take in the other up close.

You can almost feel the warmth of his brown eyes on your skin, he’s looking at you like he is trying to soak up every inch of you. He has a heart-fluttering crinkle around his eyes as his gaze sweeps over your dress. And you know you’ve made the right choice by wearing it.

Rooster is more tan than the last time you saw him. Sweat dots his temples and his pretty curls are a little flat, no doubt from the shiny red and yellow helmet he’d all but blindly shoved into poor Bob’s hands. You notice that his lips are chapped and his nose a little sunburnt.

He’s still handsome as hell. Maybe even more so now.

“Hey, Sailor,” you greet him, giving him a grin of your own. “You look awfully familiar. Although I think the flight suit is throwing me off, maybe if you put those Summer Whites back on it’ll help jog my memory.”

He laughs and slides a finger under the thin strap of your dress and gently tugs you in even closer.

“Huh, that’s funny because I definitely remember you,” Bradley says, scooping you up with one arm, “Pretty sure you’re the girl of my dreams.”

And then he’s kissing you in a way that you’re pretty sure is going to screw you up forever.

Your wildest dreams never could have prepared you for the reminder of how good it feels to be held in his arms.

Your wildest dreams never could have prepared you for how good it feels to have his lips sliding against yours again.

Your wildest dreams never could have prepared you for a man like Bradley Bradshaw.

He was real and he was in front of you and he wanted you.

“I need you to stop smiling so much, sweetheart, so I can kiss you properly,” he says, pulling back to nudge your nose with his.

“My apologies, I’ll try to take this more seriously,” you tease, still smiling as you pull his face back to yours.

As Bradley presses you even closer, you realize this might not be a bad idea at all, but possibly the best one you’ve ever had.

There's no man quite like Bradley Bradshaw! Whether he is in his Summer Whites or in a Flight Suit he's That Man™️!

Many, many, MANY thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse for her support and endless cheerleading! He's finally got his pants off, Jordan, we did it!

If you missed Part 1 you can read it HERE! Or if you haven't read the story that started it all check out Hey, Sailor!

Moodboards: One || Two

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

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hanasnx · 7 months

Text

⋆˖⁺‧₊𓆩𓆩 ❝ stranded. ❞ 𓆪𓆪₊‧⁺˖⋆

-ˏˋ꒰ CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE - ! ꒱ PART ONE ✩ PART TWO ✩ PART THREE MINORS DNI 18+ SUMMARY: be a part of the story! vote on the poll at the bottom. WARNINGS: your vote affects how the story continues | the winning decision affects how the story ends | f!reader | eventual smut | semi-established relationship | romance | suggestive | eventual conflict.

! ── PREVIOUSLY: You and ANAKIN SKYWALKER are stranded on a seemingly deserted planet. He asks you how to proceed because he trusts your judgement.

You consider his question, rubbing your bottom lip thoughtfully with your finger. The responsibility he’s given you is not one you take lightly, and you phase through the options until you decide the smartest route. “Where’s your communicator?”

Anakin's lips press together as he nods. It’s uncharacteristically submissive of him to relinquish control like that, and part of you wonders if this is his way of calming your nerves caused by the situation. He retrieves the communicator in question from his sea of robes, and when his gloved hands brings it to both of your views, it sparks.

He flinches, protecting his eyes from the device if it sees fit to explode in his hand. Fingers fiddle nimbly with its buttons, and its silence doesn’t bode well for your plans. You approach him, watching the little mechanism sit idly in the palm of his hand. “Can you repair it?” you ask, peering up at him. He doesn’t look at you.

“We’ll have to find out.”

As he works on it, you lose track of time, but the sun does not forgive. It beats down on the two of you as you try to shade yourselves in the minuscule shadow of your totaled ship. He remains in his uniform, and beads of sweat fatly roll down his forehead. That concentrated crease in his brow makes him look older than he actually is, glaring down at the communicator as he pinches wiring together with his meticulous touch. You swallow, mouth dry, and you incline into his direction.

“Anakin, maybe you should shed some layers—“ you begin to suggest, laying a familiar hand on his arm. He tenses under your contact, and perks up at attention to hear someone call out.

“You two look a long way from home.” a gutty and baritone voice leers, and Anakin’s jaw sets. His lightsaber is hidden from view by his robings. “Did’yer ship take a tumble?” The joking tone goes unappreciated as the two of you raise your heads to see a native of the planet. Relief washes over you that you aren't alone, but Anakin does not seem convinced, wary this local is unfriendly. He's seated high up on an animal with flat feet and spindly legs, one you don't recognize at all. Its trunk is stout, and wiggles absently as it disinterestedly awaits its owner to decide on whether or not to pass on. The native wears thin clothes with a strap across his chest, the bag of water sloshing at his side as he swings to a halt against his hip.

"Engine failure." Anakin replies, vague and curt. It's a lie, and one you bite your tongue on correcting. Your eyes meander the large stranger, a flat bedded wagon with heaps of fabrics is hauled by his mount, but you know those veils are just to conceal whatever he's got underneath them. "Is there a town around here?"

The local leans forward on his saddle, propping himself up on the grip with an amused and removed grin. "Naw, not for miles." Out of the corner of your view, Anakin's hand slowly disappears under his robe. "Why don't you climb aboard? I'll take you in. S'long as I get what's left of yer ship."

Anakin glances to you, but ultimately decides he'll work on the communicator during the ride. His saber remains clipped to his belt, hidden. However, his senses aren't dulled. There's something about this stranger that tells him he can't get too comfortable, but this is progress. Regardless if there's a town at all. The two of you collect the emergency supplies from the vessel, and climb aboard the wagon. It sinks into the sand from the extra weight, but when he spurs his mount on, she doesn't have a problem in tugging it.

"Sorry I didn't introduce myself, the name's Drice. S'lucky I came through, followed the smoke trail of your ship. Can smell it on the two of you." You and Anakin exchange eye contact, silently agreeing he'll be talkative the entire trip. "Yep, this nose never lies." His finger raises to tap-tap the side of his nostril. "What were y'all headed for? Before, y'know, the 'engine failure.'" You furrow your brows at the way he quotes the statement, as if he's suspicious Anakin was dishonest. "I could'a taken a look at it if it didn't have such a rough landing. S'lucky I want the parts. I'm a mechanic by trade."

Anakin doesn't respond, instead fishes out the communicator to continue his inspection. Its guts spill out, and he carefully pools it onto his lap. "The Adega system." he replies, again another lie.

Drice emits a noise of confusion. "That's a long way to travel for a ship that size."

"That's likely why we crashed." Anakin responds, and you can hear in his voice that growing annoyance.

The reticence from the back of his vehicle unnerves the local, and he continues to try to muster up some conversation. "You two are real cute together, y'know. A real pair. How long have y'all been together?"

Anakin's gaze flickers to you.

@HANASNX 2024 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.

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grimesgirll · 5 months

Text

alexandria is the break you've been yearning for since shit hit the fan.

an independent walled and gated community is exactly the place to catch your breath. the past eighteen months had been a blur of grit and gore; you deserve to decompress in a pretty house, not that you spent all of your time in your new settlement inside. you made a point to take judith on daily walks.

you're returning from one of your new routine walks to get judith down for her afternoon nap when you find olivia - the neighbor lady who ran the armory and the pantry - on the porch, greeting your name.

“hi,” you reply with a smile, bolstering the cooing baby on your hip. “what do i owe you the pleasure, olivia?”

“i’ve been meaning to get over here ever since shane brought it up to me-,” you pause. “-i wouldn’t mind having another set of hands around the armory at all, especially with the background shane mentioned you had.”

you purse your lips. “thanks. could we talk about this another time? maybe after the weekend? i’ll stop by.” you gesture to the little girl on your hip. “it’s just that i want to get her down now so her routine isn’t all out of whack later tonight.”

olivia nods, glasses bouncing a bit. “of course. come see me whenever you’re ready.”

you’re smiling and thanking her again before crossing the threshold with a huffy chest. it takes patience on your part not to slam the door but with judith in your arms, you slowly close it.

why would shane sign you up to work in the armory? is he stupid? you ponder. he didn’t even ask if you wanted to do something like that. you dismiss the thought the best you can and just focus on getting judith to sleep.

thank god for the blackout curtains jessie had sent over. judith sleeps like the dead with those things drawn.

a little rocking and the dark room do well to help the infant fall asleep in no time. that allows you to meander down the living room and hear the door swinging open.

"babe, we're back.”

you perk your head up when you see shane and rick come through the door. “hey, guys,” you forget to ask them how their day’s been when you see their new uniforms.

you have to pick up your jaw when you see the two men dressed in matching constable’s uniforms. you and shane hadn’t been dating for long when the world went to shit. he’d met you right after work before, even picked you up in the cruiser before but you forgot how strapping he looked in a uniform. brown and form fitting, you’re thanking the constable’s office inventory for stocking such flattering apparel.

you almost forget the frustration you’re harboring - the anger that had boiled, all because of how his ass looked in those brown fucking slacks.

“good to see you,” rick says with the same tone he had back on the side of the road when he helped you step back into your underwear.

“good to see you too,” you repeat, biting your lip.

a smirk appears on shane’s lips once he realizes you’re checking out their asses as you take their coats.

"why don't you head upstairs? we'll be up in a few minutes."

you nearly drop the jackets from your arms. “for what?” you ask, playing dumb.

rick is wordless and shane just smiles at you, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops. “you’ll see. we’ll see you soon enough.”

the bedroom is your next destination.

you’re tiptoeing up the stairs as not to disrupt nap time. those light treading feet are carrying you straight to the bed where you crumple into the comforter.

long was your day, longer would be your night. this is by virtue of the fact that you’ll have to ask shane about why olivia was about to onboard you to work in alexandria’s armory. and you’ll probably get split in half by an eight inch cock by the end of the night. you decide to put off your conversation with shane when your mind wanders to the newly clean shaven constable downstairs.

god, did he fit those pants wonderfully.

the man had been on your mind ever since this situationship of sorts emerged between the three of you - sans labels. awkward as it seemed, given all of your histories.

and then there’s shane.

don’t get you wrong, shane would give you the world if he could. whatever it would take to keep you nice and happy and purring “yes, shane” at his every word. he goes to greater lengths not just for your safety but for your convenience.

the man who’d circled back on a run after realizing he didn’t bring back your favorite brand of tampons. then again when the tampons be found had cardboard applicators. the one who held you at night in your shared cell back at the prison, kissed you and petted your hair, nuzzling as close as possible and telling you it would be alright. the man who trusted you to take care of his baby girl.

the one who had taken the time to give you not one but multiple masterclasses on firearms, shooting, and gun maintenance. he insisted that you know how to take care of yourself if it ever came down to and it boy, had it come down to it. more than once, you’d found yourself aiming your pistol and being forced to make a split second decision. the same man embraced you and reassured you in the aftermath of your beretta’s rounds claiming your first non-walker kill.

the man who’s about to fuck you into the mattress with his best friend.

you try to hold onto that thought as you shimmy out of the blue levi’s, deserting them on the floor thoughtlessly in search something cozier. digging through shane’s newly filled dresser drawers seems like an easy enough solution.

speak of the devil, he walks in with rick while you’re appraising a pair of gray sweatpants with a georgetown insignia on them.

“thought you had your own sweats.” shane’s behind you in an instant. just like rick, he’d noticed the way your sweatshirt falls to your thighs. “why don’t you just save those for later and let me help you take the rest off, huh?”

a telltale smirk takes over your face. a slant back into shane tells him all he needs to know.

he waits to toss you over his shoulder and situate you on the bed before he's yanking your boy briefs down your legs and brushing your clit with his fat finger. it's only natural that he's chuckling into your skin when you tense beneath him. prodding and playing with your newly awakened nerves, shane still managed to signal rick over to begin a maddening campaign, attacking your flush skin with their lips.

the lips on your that skin feel so deliciously inviting that you disregard how tender they turn you.

of course, shane is the one that can’t stand to wait.

“down you go, pretty girl.”

in an instant, he’s behind you with a finger in your pussy. you want to be upset that he's not still paying attention to the blushed out surface of your body but you’re too preoccupied with the hand in between your shoulder blades, encouraging your forearms down to the mattress. shane’s maintaining his grip on your hips and propping them up to send your ass straight towards the ceiling.

the moment that you feel a warm tongue, licking painfully slowly, and thoroughly towards your center, your hips jerk. shane is already bracing them, cooing, “easy, girl,” into your thigh before continuing the languid assault on your lips.

the lips on your face are pecked, if only briefly, by your boyfriend’s former crimefighting partner. licking your lips, you’re wishing he would circle back to connect your mouths again when a sharp sting interrupts your thoughts.

“fuck!” you cry into the comforter.

the obvious culprit is already testing the skin of your ass with his palm again. another yelp has blue eyes boring down, as if trying to memorize each moment you react - so expressively - to shane’s ministrations.

“what was that for?” you question, rotating your head to stealth a glance at him.

“fun.”

you’re about to tell shane about his idea of fun before a final slap and a sudden return to teasing your core spurs you away from the thought. pressure and heat course through you; shane just raises your internal temperature with a purposeful finger. you're whimpering at just the first stretch. past your throbbing rings of muscle, shane weaves a path with a single finger.

a heaved out moan has shane licking his lips. “gettin’ worked up off my fingers, baby?”

you nod. without a doubt.

another finger continues the mission of prying your tight cunt open for the men that would be taking turns with you until you’d come all over both their cocks. knuckle deep inside of you, the pressure is going to kill you before that third finger does.

“shane,” you’re hissing when he adopts a pace that has you clawing at his two fingers. “why are you being so aggressive with your fingers?”

“weren’t you complainin’ that it was ‘too much,’” he denotes with air quotes, “last time?”

rick seems to give you some breathing room at his friend’s taunt. he slinks back like his massive cock wasn’t the reason you’d been a sobbing mess in cowgirl on top of him the night before your group had reached noah’s old community in richmond.

you’d come so pornographically hard around him that you swear it’d been in your top five orgasms. but your cervix was still shot.

rick felt guilty. so guilty that he hasn’t fucked you since. only your mouth. of course he treated you to his mouth, his perfect tongue and his hands but you crave him inside of you. the thought of it with shane’s two pronged touch has you nearly grinding up the bed.

“fuck, shane,” you’re mumbling into the comforter, fists clenching when another finger worms into you.

“you ‘bout ready, baby?” shane asks, placing a strategic stripe down your clit as he fully buries his middle three fingers in you.

“mhmm.”

“wanna ask?”

a steady sentence isn’t going to come out of your mouth with how shane’s thrusting his fingers in and out of you. “please,” you sputter when he entrenches his fingers deeper inside of you.

“what was that?” the condescension in his voice has you squelching around his fast moving fingers.

you’re blushing at rick who has a hand on his cock and is staring straight into your teary eyes. “i want you to fuck me now, shane.” you don’t break eye contact with rick. “please.”

another smack lands on your reddening backside and suddenly those pleasure granting fingers are digging into your hip and you feel shane’s girth at your entrance.

“what do you want, baby?” shane asks. “you want me to fill you up?”

“yes, i want it so bad,” you’re begging through pouted lips.

rick doesn’t miss your doe eyes or how you moan shane’s name as he fulfills your fucked out request and fills you. even someone in the hallway can hear the wet sound from shane teasing your leaking cunt.

a few experimental strokes and shane is already balls deep. he didn’t heed the same new code of chivalry rick had adopted upon finding a hint of blood on the tip of his dick. that experience made you want to pull your hair out. stupid fucking cervix, you’d thought, ruining me getting fucked. rick didn’t usually treat you to such a pounding but the road did that to one. besides, he was freshly addicted to your cunt.

the electric feeling from how he’d taken you with shane that first time reignite as your boyfriend adjusts himself to brush against your g-spot. the fucked out look on your face can’t be missed as you let shane shovel his hips into you and closer to the only finish line you’d ever had no problem crossing. just like rick had plowed you into the mattress of the barracks you’d all stayed at in norfolk.

these thoughts of rick can’t escape you - even with shane groaning your name. the swats to your ass just go straight to your cunt and do little to rouse you from your daydreaming about the man lining himself up with your mouth.

yeah, you’re out of your mind already and he doesn’t even have his dick inside of you again.

“so good for me, baby,” shane’s gasping, his hand sliding down your ass to brace your thigh and fuck you deeper. “so good for us.”

rick nods, fingers pushing your hair out of your face and letting you take your time with him in your mouth. you hollow your cheeks and rock forward with shane when he cants into you. he’s gazing down at you as if this is the prettiest he’s ever seen you.

you could keep your eyes on him forever if it weren’t for the orgasm searing through you. it’d built up as you backed into shane and imagined how full rick would have you feeling - how connected, how close you’d feel with him inside of you.

“should’ve knocked you up back at the farm.”

god, that would’ve been inconvenient. you just focus on the pleasure you’re receiving and how you’re in alexandria with two men amazingly attractive men. it’s not the time but then again, shane doesn’t give you much of a choice with how revved up this whole coming in you business seems to be getting him. you can’t lie; it’s affecting you too.

so much that you’re nearly protesting when rick withdraws his twitching cock from between your lush lips, less than when shane pulls out of you. you won’t be protesting about what comes next though.

the first time rick had fucked your pussy you’d been whining, and you’re doing the same thing now.

“you wanna get on top?” shane questions, requiring you to repeat yourself before rick leans against the headboard.

still snickering at the whine that came out of you, your boyfriend helps to lift you and lower your hips onto rick who’s sprawled on his back, bronzed curls against the propped up pillow. rick hisses when his tip makes contact with your drowning heat again.

shane doesn’t waste any time. his hands are off you so he can situate himself on the bed to accommodate the best view of you two.

unfortunately, you’re not in shane’s lap so rick has him beat for the best seat in the house. or do you hold that seat?

your boyfriend hadn’t seemed too worried about you sliding too far down onto rick but rick was. his hands are firm on your hips - holding them in a semi-permanent place, only maneuvering for you as you rotate your hips down onto him.

“rick,” you rasp, wrapping your arms around his neck. you want to hear more from him so badly - to hear him panting your name. that’s your goal when you hurry your hips against him. you can tell that he’s hesitating, holding you back at first until you wiggle enough for him to allow you to break free.

grinding onto him, you watch a puffed out series of breaths escape his mouth. not missing a beat, you reposition your hips to sink deeper, hissing with rick and leaning into him. that’s when your clit begins to explode with pleasure from the friction.

“fuck,” you’re chanting. “fuck, that’s good. feels so good. fuck. fuck, that’s perfect.”

“dirty girl.” shane is teasing.

“just feels so fuckin’ good,” you’re twisting on top of rick, angling yourself against his pulsing member to stimulate all the perfect parts of your pelvis.

“is rick fucking you good, honey?”

you nod, having been given full license to be honest about how rick is making you gush.

“how good?” shane asks, hazel eyes on you while you ride rick.

your lip quivers. you feel rick thrum inside of you. “soooo good.” you’re saying in the lust addled way only you would. “you both make me feel so on.”

shane’s cock jumps and rick is picking up the pace. whatever motion your clit’s endured against rick is nothing once he crescents his fingertips into your sides. nice and deep, rick is threatening your cervix again but you don’t need to worry because he’s just taking the scenic route to your g-spot.

the same spot that’s making your toes curl and you chant for rick. “i’m close again,” you warn him. your head is falling onto his shoulder, blocking shane from view.

“you’ve got it, almost there, sweetheart,” rick rumbles into your ear.

his now gravelly voice against your ear has your cunt tightening. teeth pressed into your shoulder, you yelp and moan when rick brushes the flesh of your skin with his teeth. the purple marks being sown onto you will bloom later on but you don’t mind. not when your legs are shaking and you’re whimpering, “god, rick, you make me feel so fucking good.”

and suddenly you’re being fucked through your orgasm face down.

“so jessie cut your hair?”

rick nods and you’re hyper aware of how short his hair is. he’s so polished too. not that it’s terribly difficult to be after traveling on the road for so long.

“i liked your long hair. you should grow it out again.”

the new constable raises an eyebrow, leaning up on his forearms to sit up. “gotta’ shape up at some point.”

you would argue but shane’s distracting you with kisses to your shoulders and promises of morning sex already. you’re not distracted enough to miss rick’s weight absent from the pliable surface.

rick rises from the bed and you whine.

“i want rick to stay.”

shane scoffs. he extends his brawny arms across the bed. “baby, there’s barely enough room in the bed for the two of us.”

you shake your head, sitting up on your knees. “i think we can make it work. please,” you take a breath. “i just feel safer with you two in bed.”

“honey, there’s no room.”

“okay, i’ll just sleep on top of him then.”

you end up basically on top of rick - not that he minds. the night is spent with cuddled up into his chest; shane cupping the occasional hand around the curve of your ass.

weirdly, you’re falling asleep in no time. the steady thrum of his heartbeat lulls you. sleeping on top of rick might have to become a part of your bedtime routine.

shane wants you to pull a hostile takeover of the armory.

you stand with your arms crossed, giving the man one of your signature frowns. "why would i want to keep an eye on olivia in the armory?"

shane looks at you as if it's obvious. "it's good to have a hand on things," he explains, sighing your name. "it's good to have someone on the inside, in case..."

"-in case what?" you question.

shane stares at his feet.

you smolder. "you seriously can't be expecting to have to seize their guns, shane. we just got here for christ's sake."

"it's not even like that, baby," shane says, trying to walk back his conspiracy plots from you. “i just would feel better having you there. besides, it’s not like it’d be all the time and you could learn more about gun storage, whatever you want now

“that doesn’t sound like whatever i want, it sounds like you’re shoving me in the armory.”

“baby, you don’t have to do anything, i’m just sayin’-,”

“i’ll work in the armory if you stop giving me shit about going hunting.”

shane frowns af you. “now, you know that’s different.”

you cross your arms. “it’s not. i need a change of scenery, maybe some greenery to be specific.”

shane presses a flexed hand against the wainscoting he’s leaned up against. he shakes his head. “maybe once we know things are stable here, but for right now these people are far less capable than we are. i’d feel better with you in the armory.”

you want to ask him to consider what you want for a change. you honestly want to tell him to go fuck himself but then you remember.

ah, the thing that you want. the man that you want. the man you can only have with shane’s smirking approval.

so you just smile, walk over and take him by surprise, planting a kiss on cheek and telling him you’ll start tomorrow. it’ll all pay off in the long run.

the welcome party is a success.

if not for the fact that shane didn’t kill spencer just for saying hello to you, then for the fact that you got trashed.

so trashed that rick had ended up hauling your ass home when you hurled in one of deanna’s planters and shane was too embroiled in a push-up contest with abraham to even think about heading home. not that shane had ended up any better. the man drank so much johnny walker that even he came home and passed out face first in the bed bedside you.

you’re hungover the next morning, so hungover that rick moved you out of shane’s bed and into his to hang off the edge and puke your guts up.

rick even roped carol into coming over to cook and watch judith while you and shane recovered.

he even brings you soup.

“damn, look who’s still out of it.”

seems shane had recovered.

“she drinks like she’s still in kappa delta.”

rick rubs a circle or two into your back. “what’d you say? you won’t puke all over your bed, will ya’?”

when you’re well enough, you patter downstairs

“you’re looking better.”

“thanks, carol,” you return her jab with a wry smile.

“so,” the gray haired woman braces her hands on the picnic table at the base of the orchard. “are you going to help me with these apricots are what?” your gaze falls from the woman to her basket and circles back to the trees overhead. “the apricots came in early here. what do you think of apricots in march?”

you shrug. “i really don’t know much about fruits,” you admit as you take the chestnut colored basket into your hand.

it’s so odd seeing carol in her little pseudo-mr. rogers act, costume and all. the cardigan and capris paint a picture of the picture homemaker - a real martha stewart type.

and one of the most tactful, five steps ahead of you types that you’d ever met.

you wonder if this carol had laid dormant for some years.

the two of you work through the trees, plucking the precious fruit that was ready for harvest and leaving the rest.

“so, you having fun playing house?”

your mouth gapes open. you nearly drop your basket and waste quite a lot of apricots.

carol snorts at you. “i’m just kidding.” she sends you a look like you’re incredulous or something. “do what you want.” you pluck an apricot from the tree before you. gossamer head tilting when your apricot picking partner speaks again. “but just keep your priorities straight.”

you stiffen. that’s not what you were expecting. maybe some more sage or cunning advice is what you thought would be coming out of her mouth. priorities? you don’t wanna think about them. the priorities that you’ve been saddled with.

you moan someone about your hangover and muddle through the rest of your apricot picking, trying to keep your mind from defining your priorities.

the two of you part when at the sidewalk in front of your porch, with her last words to you being:

“you be careful.”

“gonna have to go out and find a king sized bed if rick’s gonna be stayin’ over this often.” shane comments and rolls onto his side to face you.

you shrug. “i’m fine with the arrangement the way it is.”

“yeah? sleeping on top of rick?”

you continue brushing your hair. “beds are hard to come by, especially great gigantic sized beds.”

“i’m sure there’s a king somewhere.”

“yeah.”

shane’s eyes don’t leave you as you set your hairbrush down on the vanity and tie it back. he’s even closer once you settle into your spot on the mattress. arms clutch you into him and lazy patterns begin to materialize on your skin, from massages into the nap of your neck to a dull squeeze of your ass. it makes you feel easy - subdued almost by shane’s unhurried touch. but you’re still wound up. you don’t know how you can be anything else nowadays.

"night, baby," shane mumbles into your ear.

"night." you reply, eyes focused on the single beam of moonlight tumbling through the window.

with rick down the hall, you won’t be sleeping tonight.

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male-us-prison-experience · 4 months

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This is one of my favorite images of The American Way of Prison Life. I would like to experience what it is like to be in the position of one of the two young men on the left and right. What stands out at first glance at the photo is their identical, bright orange-colored outfit, consisting of pants and a short-sleeved shirt. The right one looks at the ground, the left one stares ahead. Between them is an older man dressed in black, who takes them both under his arm in a rather conversational, but also with a determined look.

On the second look you see diagonally behind the trio a van with the text 'Police' on the far right, with 'City of Harrisburg' further back, also just legible. The man in the middle is a police officer, as can be recognized on closer inspection by the revolver on his right hip and the badge on his left chest. They've just stepped out of that bus, as another pic of the police offer with the left guy shows.

A third look: on the left trouser leg of both young men, DCP is printed on orange in large black letters. That trio of letters stands for Dauphin County Prison, the penitentiary of Pennsylvania. Both are inmates, and their orange clothing is their mandatory prison uniform.

As its Inmate Handbook found on the internet states: “You will be issued your prison uniform immediately upon arrival”. And a little further on: “You are required to be properly dressed in your Prison uniform at all times” - inside the prison, but of course also outside it. Although the officer who takes them away holds them quite loosely, they make no move to resist or run away.

Two inmates accompanied by just one police officer in between them: you will not often see that. Usually you will find pics of the reverse: two police officers escorting one inmate in between.

On a fourth look at our main pic you however will see that both prisoners – in the case of the left one largely hidden behind his left arm and the envelope he is holding in his right hand, more visible in case of the other - are wearing a wide brown leather belt around their waist. It's a rather tight fit, much tighter than would be necessary to keep his pants from falling down. It is not for that purpose either; where you would expect the buckle, instead a large steel D-shaped ring protrudes, which is fixed to the strap. The latter can be seen slightly better at the left inmate.

Through this sturdy ring passes the very short chain of a pair of handcuffs, which are closed around the prisoner's wrists. These handcuffs leave the wearer very little freedom of movement in this way; he is forced to keep his hands pressed tightly against his crotch all the time, and can no longer do anything dangerous with them. Because the handcuffs are inserted through the ring of the belt, there is no way for the wearer to free himself from that powerless position. The belt itself is buckled behind his back, putting the buckle completely out of his reach.

That buckle of course isn't visible on this pic here, but when you search a bit on the internet, you will find some (not very much) pics of inmates seen from behind showing this arrangement very clear. In fact the belt is a normal waist-belt worn the other way round, the front at the back, the back at the front, with just that big D-Ring fixed with help of strong nails on what has become the center of the front afterwards. This pic combines a front view from one inmate with a back view of another, for sure dressed and restrained the same way.

Although thanks to this arrangement the buckle is complete out of reach of the restrained wearer of the belt, if you have more inmates together, they might help to free each other. For maximum security in that case a padlock, fixing the belt in place, might be added to be absolute sure. If that's indeed done in our case, we can't discover.

To return to our main pic: On a fifth look you finally see - it is not noticeable at first - that a short chain runs between both feet, directly under the end of the orange trouser legs and above their shoes. Both prisoners wear not only handcuffs, but also leg irons.The shackles themselves, which are locked around their ankles, cannot be seen; they are hidden under the trouser legs. The connecting chain is so short that running away is completely impossible.

Already the little step of the left fellow is enough to almost completely tension the chain; a slightly larger one, and he stumbles. Because the shackles are not tied over, but under the trouser legs, i.e. directly around the prisoners' socks, the wearer feels them extra; with every step the chain tugs slightly on the foot cuff. This is much more painful on thin socks (let alone bare skin) than if there is also the fabric of the uniform trousers in between. That also puts a brake on fast walking.

In many cases, however, you will rencounter the reverse: the cuffs of the leg-irons locked not under, but over the pants of the inmate. In that case, the shackles are of course much more noticeable, which some prisoners may experience as more humiliating. On the other hand, it is clearly more comfortable to wear them like that, especially if you have to walk more than just a few meters.

Is there any conscious policy underlying this choice from the side of the prison authorities? You come across both variants very often, it is difficult to say which is more common, anyhow: I have not been able to discover any system so far. That is worth further investigation. Here at least is a pic showing the very intense moment a brand new inmate is getting his leg-irons locked on the opposite way for the first time.

Anyhow: it explains why both prisoners of our main pic willingly allow themselves to be taken here, outside the walls of the guarded prison: not only is any attempt at resistance made by the handcuffs, but also any attempt to escape because of the shackles pointless. This combination of belt-with-handcuffs and leg cuffs is known as 'full restraints'. The use of full restraints is mandatory in most US states as a standard security measure for all prisoners during their transport.

#jail #prisoner #inmate #prison uniform #shackles #prison #handcuffs #handcuffed inmate #waist belt #full restraints #orange prison uniform #leg irons

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emoisthenewemu · 1 month

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⋆˚✿˖°𐙚 ERWIN SMITH X F READER SMUT 18+ MDNI

⋆˚✿˖°𐙚 cw: daddy kink, ex! levi x reader, SMUT, PORN W VERY LITTLE PLOT, p in v, female body parts, oral on both ends, squirting, size kink??, dumbification?, general nastiness almost 9K words of nothing but smut, rough sex, and i think thats mostly it!!!

⋆˚✿˖°𐙚 lol so if anyone is interested i might write a pt 2 w levi and a pt 3 threesome?? This also derived from a levi fic im working on i might just post that here too. Its so funny how my first work on tumblr is an ERWIN SMITH smut of all things but here we are. He makes me so feral

.　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　. 　 ✧ 　 ˚ 　 .　 ✧ 　. 　 ˚ 　.

You did not expect anyone to follow in your angry march away. In fact, you preferred that no one did, especially Levi. But he seems to be completely repulsed by you these days so you are sure he would do no such thing. Erwin did wait about a minute before taking off without a word, clearly just as unimpressed with Levi as you were. All the man wanted was to blow off some steam, but that was now ruined all thanks to the petty squabble between the former lovers. He was sick enough of hearing all about it from both sides and now it was following him outside of work. Smith did manage to sneak a pint for the trek underneath his coat, managing to finish it long before arriving back to headquarters. And his poor friend was in so much pain that it made him hurt too, he tried to avoid this, to warn her that Ackerman does not have the emotional intelligence for a relationship. He does not know how to be soft and sensual.

Like you deserve to be treated.

It would be inappropriate to admit that Erwin had thought about what it might take to satisfy a woman like you. In more ways than one. But he wants to ignore it and follows up the stairs silently, waiting until you reached the floor of your office/living quarters to call out your name. "Y/N"

"Not in the mood commander" You grumble, not wanting to hear an 'I told you so' from him of all people. You have always admired Commander Erwin, he was a man with principles and honor. A loyal and courageous leader, easily one of the best the Survey Corps had ever seen. Everything about him was impressive; a long list of accomplishments throughout his professional year, he was well educated and had a hefty amount of titan kills under his belt. Another thing which could be considered impressive would be the sheer size of the man. He towered over many with big burly shoulders and a deep, rich voice. His muscles would pop out of his undershirt (something the female scouts would never fail to notice) and his hands were large enough to make regular things appear miniature. You would be lying if you said you hadn't imagined what lay underneath that uniform. But it would be absolutely scandalous to sleep with the commander of all people.

However, you somehow did not find anything wrong with sleeping with the second highest ranking member of the Scouts. That was not your goal of course; to sleep with a powerful man. It just sort of happened, after years of the slow torture that was getting to know Levi and be close with him. Your relationship was similar of that to his with Hange-mostly comprised of shit talking and poking fun at each other. It was like that for years and sometimes things did get intense, growing more into argument territory rather than their usual lighthearted bickering. But you always made up, if not with a verbal apology then with little gestures. Levi always checked the straps of your gear before expeditions, made sure you stretched and ate beforehand. Whenever you found yourself in battle, he somehow always managed to be right behind just in case things went South. And it was not until you were able to lead a squad of your own that Levi had to admit he absolutely hated to be apart from you.

That was how you knew he loved you, it made keeping things so secretive okay. As long as you knew Levi cared for you, that was all that mattered. But as time passed you could not help but wonder if it was purely physical for him, judging by the way he began to completely ignore you in front of others. All it took was some light teasing for him to begin to stray away from your touch. And it hurt that something so small could be enough to stop all that was happening between the two of you. That seemed to be the beginning of the end, it was not long after that the man pulled you into his office and insist the two of you keep things professional from now on. That it was a mistake. He said it so coldly, as if he had not let you sleep in his arms two days prior.

But you played it cool and managed to make it all the way to the stairwell before hot tears began to stream down your face. You refused to let him see how much it hurt, wanted to make it seem as unimportant as he did.

That was only a month ago, so when Erwin initially invited you out to the pub you were weary of being in the presence of Humanity's Strongest Soldier. But Erwin insisted that one of his most hard-working soldiers should put the paperwork down for just one night and let loose. He also promised to not leave your side, aware of the weird tension between you and Levi.

Erwin was not dumb, and happened to be the only person who caught on to you and Levi. Noticing the stolen glances and sly smiles sent from across the room. It wasn't until you accidentally sent down a paper that was meant for Levi on the commander's desk. A paper with a not so subtle note at the bottom containing such foul things that he did not dare to even repeat them as he scolded the two of you for being so careless. You had never seen him so angry, nor had he ever spoke to you so harshly. It was so harsh you almost cried, hiding your face the whole time in utter embarrassment. The two of you promised to never again let your 'nighttime activities' affect your work. And he left it at that, choosing to never bring it up again. He intended on never involving himself between the two of you again.

But tonight as Erwin saw the pain which clouded your eyes, it made him want to make it all go away. How desperately he ached to make you forget all about Levi and scream his name all night long instead.

"I am not here to make you feel dumb" He reassures, closing your bedroom door behind him. You watch him intently from the other side of the room, a clenched jaw as he plays with the loosened collar of his shirt. The drinks were making him sweaty, a tiny droplet catching the light as it dripped down his chest.

The very last thing you should be worried about is how utterly sexy your commander looks at a time like this. You don't consider yourself the type of woman to move on so easily. But how can you not be enticed by a sweaty, hunky man standing in your bedroom, only there because he is worried about your well-being? Not what is beneath your clothes. In fact, he makes a show of averting his eyes as you begin to undo the bodice of your dress. He has always been so respectful and good to you, always made sure to ask your opinion on important matters because he valued your input. That was arguably the hottest thing he had ever done; respect you entirely. "Forgive me if it is not my place to say this, but I believe you can do much better than Ackerman"

You laugh, letting the strings of the corset hang as you silently pray he will give in to look at the way your breasts threaten to spill from your dress. "Is that so?" You raise a curious eyebrow. "Any better options?"

Erwin finally looks back over to you and he silently curses at your undone dress which is practically begging to just be ripped off. He swallows thickly, focusing on the middle of your eyebrows as to not look anywhere else. "None come to mind. Though I do hope you'll find one more willing to communicate his emotions"

"Hm" You kick off your boots, wondering if the tension is not just one sided. If he feels the heat too which eats at your whole body. So neglected, and feeling so unwanted. You put on your nicest undergarments today in the hopes that Levi would be taking you home. You just want someone to take care of you, soothe the uncomfortable ache between your legs. You have enough on your plate as is, dealing with the newest recruits to the Scouts. They were already starting fights and complaining about orders and it was supposed to be your job to whip them into shape. And you were exhausted, drained from feeling like a single mother with a group of disobedient kids who just had to question your every order. You needed some stress relief desperately. It is obvious with the way you rub your tired eyes, hunched over your bed as you stare at the floor. "And you? I still find it hard to believe a man like you has no lady waiting for you to come back home every night"

His posture eases up but his body remains pressed against the door, almost like he is afraid to step any closer. He imagines there is an imaginary line which starts at the wardrobe in front of him, and should he cross that line he does not trust there will be any going back. In fact, he should have left the very second his impure thoughts started. "A man like me?" He sounds almost proud, that charm of his is beginning to kick in. He loves talking to ladies, can wrap them easily around his finger. "Im awfully busy you know? Don't have enough time to dedicate myself to a woman the way they deserve"

"Poor Commander" Your sweet voice makes him weak in the knees, his resolve faltering with every second. "You're a good one, so strong and brave. You take such good care of all of us. I think you deserve to have someone take care of you"

You're such a good little soldier, the Commander has always thought so. You have always followed every single order with a sweet smile, obedient and looking to please. He wants to thank you for being so perfect, for worrying about him when the original intent of following you was to check on your feelings. And by now it is obvious that you are teasing him, not even bothering to hide the way you clench your thighs every time he speaks. And you, the little minx you are, can tell that you're getting to him. Finally cracking that iron-tough exterior. It's evident with the way he cannot look at your eyes more than a few seconds, gaze constantly darting down to your chest and exposed thighs. He is clearly battling inside of his mind and you are dead set on breaking him.

He clears his throat, beginning to tap his foot anxiously as he looks around almost comically. As if there were anyone else he could look over to in this room that would convince him to get the hell out of there. Commander be damned, that was not even a concern on his mind right now. His main worry would be how upset Levi would be if he ever found out his most trusted comrade slept with his woman. But at the same time, that makes it all the more enticing. He wished he could rub it in the smug bastard's face that he has his beloved practically begging to be fucked by him. How he wants to make you scream so loud Levi hears it.

"Y/N" It's almost painful to speak, the way he is actively holding himself back from moving. He refuses to take even a single step. "It would be very inappropriate to let something happen between us"

"Mmm....but that just makes me want it more" You whine and he brings his fist up to his mouth in an attempt to conceal the curses slipping out. You feel like you are almost there, so close to getting what you desperately want. You sigh dramatically, making a point of throwing yourself back onto your bed. "No one is forcing you to stay Erwin. I couldn't keep you from leaving if I tried"

You're right, he is a grown man and if he had any kind of self control he would be marching right out of there. But right now, his chest is warming up and his mouth is watering at the sight of your dress bunching up dangerously close to your most sacred area. Now on your side, you look him up and down. You cannot help but laugh at how tense he is, almost as if he was afraid of you. "Oh Erwin, stop looking at me as if I'm trying to corrupt you"

His pants are beginning to grow tight, his own body betraying him as he finds himself growing uncomfortably hard. He attempts to clasp his hands in front of himself in an attempt to conceal the forming tent. The man lets out a deep breath, looking up to the ceiling. His mind is made.

He wants to ruin all other men for you.

Erwin finally crosses that line, stepping forward and gesturing for you to sit up. You obey, watching intently as he kneels in front of you. "My only concern is that if I start I may not be able to control myself" He admits, hands tracing the skin of your ankles which hang over the bed. The position makes it so that he is placed in between your thighs, his body beneath you as he looks up with wide eyes. He is so handsome it's almost unfair, you bring a finger to trace his sharp jawline. "A woman like you should be cherished"

His rough hands bring up one of your legs, relaxing back on his heels as he goes to place a soft kiss to your calf. He catches a glimpse of your white, lace panties and it makes him groan. After all of this teasing, you now find it hard to speak-too entranced by how soft he is being. It is a complete contrast to the way Levi makes love to you-as if every time would be the last. Erwin is taking his time, kissing and licking up your legs so sensually that you find whines leaving your lips. But he stops at your inner thighs much to your dismay.

You pout, looking down at him expectantly. "Don't worry princess" He coos, seeing your frustrated expression. He knows you are impatient, he is too but it has been far too long since Erwin had the opportunity to pleasure a woman. He will be damned if he does not enjoy every second of it, if you don't finish multiple times then he will be rather disappointed. Perhaps it is one of his kinks, getting nice sweet girls all worked up-to corrupt them. You just feel so heavenly, he wants to make you turn absolutely filthy. "You'll get what you want. Good girls are patient"

You're so unbelievably horny you could cry. You want to beg him to just fuck you already but that would be way too desperate. You still would like to keep a semblance of respect for yourself, as if the act you found yourself in was not disrespectful enough. Commander Erwin is sliding your dress down your shoulders, making you sit up a bit so he could pull it down your thighs. It almost feels unreal, that the most respected man in the Regimen is on his knees for you, ready to take you entirely. Finally, he kissed your-gasping into it you could not help but pull him closer by the shirt. Your hands fumbled with the buttons, finally getting a chance to run your nails down those chiseled muscles you had only dreamed about up until now.

His tongue presses into your mouth, running his hands down your side as he tries to touch every bit of skin available to him. He is so good, kiss tender yet passionate. You can feel how badly he wants you, the way his head moves in sync with yours as low groans escape his lips. As desperate as you were a few minutes ago, you hate the thought of his lips leaving yours, grabbing hungrily at his biceps as she shrugs his shirt off. Erwin began to fumble with the buckle of his belt, ripping it off and throwing it to the side without a thought. When you finally pulled apart, you were about to complain until he stood up to take his pants off.

You decided to keep things going, slipping off your bra to leave you in only your panties. His eyes darkened at the sight, going back on his knees and immediately latching his lips onto your chest. Soft moans escape your lips as he finds one of your nipples, sucking softly at the skin as his hand gropes the other. You buck your hips into his, using one of your hands to play with his hair. "So good Erwin" You praise, reaching your other hand down to the place he needed to be touched the most.

You cant reach enough to wrap your hand around his length, but you can feel the tip rubbing against your fingers as you desperately try to grab more of him. He is thick, and you cannot wait to see how long he must be. When he finally pulls off of your chest to look up at you, you smile. Reaching down to kiss him, he allows you to jerk him more through his underwear-you notice it is too much for just one of your hands to hold. It makes you so anxious to feel him inside of you.

"You're so beautiful" Erwin compliments, his beautiful blue eyes taking in your entire figure. "I've always thought so"

"Wish I knew that sooner" You tease, aware that this cannot go any further than what happens tonight. Neither of you are in any place to be in a relationship. But it feels so incredibly good. "But I have to admit I have thought of this more than I should. You are one of the most handsome men I have ever seen"

It feels good to be complimented, it only makes him want to devour you even more. So he decided he has had enough of the teasing, he wants-no. He needs to taste the real thing. He wordlessly pulls down your panties, wrapping his arms around your knees to pull you closer. And he looks up at your pretty little face one more time, before diving in between your legs. One lick up your slit is all it takes to completely ruin the professional relationship the two of you had spent years building. He should be ashamed of himself, being in such a high power position and still succumbing to his own nasty urges.

It is so wrong, he moans into your pussy at the thought. It should not be making it so much better, the thought of how naughty he is to be licking up your pussy like a man starved. His tongue flicks between your folds, going up to circle your clit before going back down only to repeat his movements. Every time he reaches your clit, your hips bump up and it is not long before he pulls you so flush against his face that he cannot lick anywhere that's not your pussy. He shakes his head side to side, moaning again as he makes out with your folds. "Tastes so good" He groans before diving in, this time focusing on that little nub directly. You moan loudly, beginning to pant at the way he sucks right on your clit. He stops to flick it with his tongue, loud noises of slurping and sucking so obnoxious anyone in the nearby rooms could hear. "So sweet" He pulls apart again, unable to process how fucking good it tastes. If he had days he would dedicate the night to just eating your pussy, the fucking could wait for later. "Pussy's so good princess"

He moves his tongue lower, finding your entrance and prodding at it softly. He settles his face deeper between your thighs, grabbing the soft skin as his large nose bumps up against your clit, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. God, his nose, so prominent and strong. The absolutely filthy thoughts you had about riding the man's face and using it to rub your clit against just like he was now. It was all so much, so good as your moans grew louder. He was fucking your entrance with his tongue by now and you could not help but bounce against his face, desperate to have more. The pleasure was starting to build, Erwin could tell by the incoherent words which spill from your lips.

No longer were the soft whines and moans which got him so worked up in the first place. Now you were talking complete nonsense, but that did not matter to him. That was only more encouragement for the man to keep going, oh how he wanted to fuck you stupid.

"Fuck!" You panted, hands gripping at the sheets, his hair, his shoulders, anything you could hold on to as your lower body bounced against his face. Nose still rubbing against your clit as you wonder how he could even breathe with his face so suffocated between your thighs.

He couldn't but he did not care. He was willing to die between your legs as long as you finish on his face. He needs it, he is dying of thirst and only your juice can give him some relief. "Please" He mumbled, going back up to focus on your clit and shoving a finger into you. You moan loudly and he begins to rock the digit into you, making out with your clit so sloppily you can hear the saliva sloshing around. It is so dirty it makes your eyes roll back, mouth forming into an 'o' as he picks up the pace, adding another finger. "Please cum on my mouth princess"

"Ohh yess baby!" You gasp, unable to think as the pleasure continues to build, overwhelmingly so as your legs begin to shake due to how fast the man fingers you. "Im-im..."

You cannot finish your sentence due to your release, and Erwin is going absolutely feral. He slurps up every drop, moaning about how good it is, that he can't believe you were hiding this perfect pussy from him all these years. He supposed he is to blame for that but he is far too in the moment to worry about any of it. When he pulls apart his face and chest are soaked, hair sticking to his head as he let out heavy breaths.

You managed to lift your body up, reaching out for his touch. He grabbed your hand and kissed it sweetly, almost as if that obscene scene which laid before you minutes ago never even happened. "Mm come here baby" You murmured softly and he obliged, giving in to the kiss you pulled him into. It was slow and sensual, tongues slowly greeting each other again as you held his face in your hands, enjoying the taste of yourself on his tongue. "Did so good" You mumble into the kiss, gasping when he bites your bottom lip.

"Thank you sweet girl" He mutters, going to kiss and bite at the skin on your neck. He breathes in your scent, tasting the salty sheen which now covers your whole body. His kisses are hot and needy, his hands going to grip your ass.

"Get on the bed please" You asked nicely, desperately wanting more praise. It sounded so incredibly good coming from him, was the best kind of encouragement you could have ever hoped for. You thought so highly of him, and you needed to make him proud. If you were going to ruin your relationship then you would at least hope he would be imagining your lips wrapped around his cock, thinking back on it fondly. Like you said, he took such good care of of you and this was simply returning the favor. "I wanna taste you now"

So he finally unveiled himself to you entirely, cock springing out as he pulled his underwear off rather impatiently. It slaps the skin of his stomach, a glossy sheen covering the tip as the rest of it looks angry-red and swollen, begging to be touched. He is so unbelievably thick that it makes your mouth water, thinking about how you will have to open your mouth as wide as you can to take him entirely. You slowly wrap a hand around the base, squeezing slightly as you prepare to take easily the largest cock you have ever seen. "You're so big" You almost whisper, pressing a chaste kiss to his knee.

Erwin senses some hesitation, reaching out to caress the side of your face so sweetly. He knows he is going to lose any sense of composure the second he feels your tongue, and he just hopes you are prepared to take him the way wishes. "But you can take it darling" He coos, thumb going to rub your soft lips. They part slightly, taking in the tip of his digit to suck on it lightly. He shudders at the feeling, imagining your lips wrapped around another part of him. "Such a good girl, gonna choke on daddy's cock for me right?"

You moan at his words, nodding so excitedly it makes him laugh. You are too precious really, he can't wait to ruin you. He wants to make you cry on his cock, shake and finish until you can't take anymore. "Yes daddy" His words are all the encouragement you need to finally take him, just allowing the tip into your mouth at first. Your tongue flattens against the tip, licking and tasting all of the precum which surrounds the head. Taking a deep breath, you move further, an experimental bob of your head as you find you mouth completely stuffed. And you're just about to reach halfway, how in the hell is this going to work?

Erwin's hand places itself in your hair, gently helping guide you further down. His noises are heavenly, and all he can do is stare down at you. Watching you take it intently, body shuddering as you begin to speed up the pace at which you bob your head. He thrusts slightly, smiling at the small gags leaving your mouth. But it's not enough, he needs you to choke on it, gasp for air as spit drips down your chin. He wants tears falling down your eyes as a bulge forms in your throat. This was all it took for any kind of respect to be thrown out the window, you've got him started now, feeling insatiable as he desperately wants to use you as a fucktoy. "Look at you" The blonde man groans, chest heaving and glossy as his thighs clench with the way you refuse to use your hands around him. Only your mouth, up and down gagging every time you take him in your throat. "Look so fucking sexy with my cock in your mouth"

You moan around his length, clenching your thighs together as you yearn for his touch once more. You can hardly breathe, the scent of his musk invading your nostrils as his pubic hairs tickle your nose. You are so completely enveloped by all things Erwin Smith, everywhere you look, touch, taste. And it is driving you crazy, unable to think about anything but your big strong commander who deserves to be praised. You need him to feel worshipped as you finally swap your mouth with your hands, choosing to suck on his balls instead. The act emits a growl from the man, panting above you as he cannot form any thoughts with the way you guzzle up his balls. You're moaning, sounds of slurping and spit as he can see the mess forming on your face. Jerking him hungrily as your tongue dashes across the two sacs, so eager to please him. "So fucking dirty" He curses again, an occurrence so rare it makes you moan. And he slaps your chin softly, not hard enough that it hurts but firm. "Who knew you were such a slut?"

You moan, going back up to take his member back in your mouth. You only bob a few times before coming up with a 'pop!', pleading eyes looking up at the man in front of you. His lips curved into a sly smile as he admires just how sloppy you look. Lips so swollen from taking his dick and a few strands of hair stuck to your chin from all of the spit. "Fuck my mouth please" You have no shame, you're almost whining as you grab his hands to hold your head. You look up with wide eyes, his excitement evident as it seems there is a newfound twinkle in the man's eyes. "Please daddy" It angers him to think about how obedient you must have been for Levi, he needs to remind you on what exactly you were missing out on.

"Such good manners darling" He compliments before lowering your mouth back onto him. His whole body tenses, groaning at the way your throat convulses around him as he pushes your head further down. "So sweet asking daddy for permission. I didn't even have to train you first"

You can't speak back of course, in fact he wonders if you can even process what he is saying with the way he thrusts up into your mouth. And the noises are so obscene, gargling and gagging-the sound of Erwin's pants and moans filling the room. It is too good to be true, his thrusts pick up the pace as spit falls freely down, pooling on his thighs as he massages the inside of your throat. Poor thing, it will be certainly bruised after this and he reminds himself to have a hot cup of tea prepared for you the next morning. Praises leave his mouth as he uses you, balls slapping against your chin as his hands begin to pull on your hair. You focus on breathing out of your nose when you can, swallowing every time he shoves himself all the way to the back. It drives him crazy, he moans loudly every time you do it and that is enough to keep you going. Your eyes are crying, unable to stop the tears from flowing as you choke on his cock.

It has been a very long time since Erwin had the sheer bliss of a woman's mouth wrapped around him. And he cannot remember if it felt this good the last time, he wonders how he went so long without it. Maybe it's just you, so willing to take him and let him do whatever he wants. It makes his cock twitch, release nearing as he finds himself proud he even lasted this long. As much as he wants to prolong it, toes clenched and chest tightened as he refuses to spill out-he decides to give you a break. You deserve it, with how well you've taken him. "M'cumming darling, you better swallow all of it" He growls, slapping your cheek softly as you moan excitedly-ready to swallow his seed. "And say thank you"

Those are his last words before finally spilling into your mouth, jaw slack as he moans loudly into the night. His hips rock softly, chasing his high and it makes his body shudder. You clean all of it up, careful to not spill as much as a drop and you make a show of swallowing to prove you won't be letting it go to waste.

"Thank you" You hum, giggling softly because things will never be the same. You wish you could brag to all of the other women who admire him just as much as you do.

He pulls you up by the hand and you get on the bed, humming softly when he embraces you, wrapping an arm around your waist before settling his forehead down on your shoulder. He kisses the skin softly and you melt into his touch, running your fingers up his back. It is so intimate, a complete opposite from the filthy things that took place moments prior. Your lips meet again, moving slowly and tenderly as you both grab at any skin available. You feel hungry for more, carnal desires completely overriding your body as you want to beg him to take you. Levi is not even a thought in your mind as you crave Erwin and Erwin only.

He can tell you need him with the way your tongue impatiently explored his mouth, hand going to grab his half-hard member. Stroking it softly you whine into his mouth, leaving his lips to place kisses trailing down his neck. You suck at his earlobe softly, emitting a groan from the large man. He stops your movements by grabbing your wrist. "Lay on your back darling"

You nod, moving back onto the bed and opening up your legs to give him a view of the thing he craved to feel the most. The sight alone is enough to make him fully erect, ready to fuck you the way you deserve. He kisses up your body, starting at your hipbone and following up your ribcage until he reached your neck. His big hands run up your legs, greedily as he takes in every inch of your body. He can't stop touching you, fingers grazing the soft skin of your stomach, going to trace over your nipples and collarbone. "Please Erwin" You beg, yes you love the way he is looking at you as if you were the only woman on Earth. You feel adored, so confident under his soft eyes that you are not even worried about covering up. You feel no shame, only desire for the man situated between your legs, shoulder muscles flexing as he wraps both arms around you. But you are going to go absolutely insane if he doesn't fuck you soon.

"You're too good to be true princess" He sounds sincere, nuzzling his head into your nape as he rubs his cock against your slippery folds. You whine, grinding down on him before trying to grab it and put the damn thing in yourself. He stops you like it's nothing, choosing to pin your wrist above your head. "I need to ruin you"

With those harsh words, he finally pushes the tip inside, groaning immediately at the sensation. He does not bother to wait for you to catch up, sheathing himself entirely as you claw at his back-you open your mouth to gasp but no noise comes out. It's as if his cock is strangling you, filling you up in a way you could have never imagined. "Take it" He whispers, bucking his hips softly and ignoring the way to try to paw his hips away from you. It's too much to handle, your pussy feels like it might split open from all the pressure. Tears well in your eyes as you try to relax, taking a deep shaky breath that makes the man shudder. You look so cute trying to relax when his dick is molding your walls to his size, and the way you cry out with every thrust makes him want to give you more. "Fucking take it" He mutters, groaning when you try to push his hips away again. "Stop running and relax"

You whine, bottom lip shaking as he pushes himself inside again, choosing not to move so you can become more accustomed to the feeling. And even when he is not moving, you still whine and dig into his back as if he were actually fucking you. "It's just so big. Y-you didn't even go slow" A tear falls from your eye and you don't even know how screwed you are.

He's not listening to your complaints, all he sees is a whiny whore that needs to be whipped into shape. But he will do it, by the end of the night you'll be more than prepared to take his cock at any time. He is about to scold you, but he notices your walls beginning to relax, your chest no longer raised as if you could not lay down comfortably. "You're the one who begged for it slut" He thrusts again and you both moan, your arms go to wrap around his neck. His face is pressed into your chest, bodies flushed entirely against one another as his slow but powerful thrusts invigorate your every sense. "And now-" He stops to give another hard thrust and you practically scream at the feeling. It causes him to cup his hand around your mouth, angling his body into a new position. He pulls your hips down, your body going down slightly so that you are more flat on the bed. "You're gonna take what daddy gives you, okay?"

You nod and that is when the fun truly begins. You really had no idea what you were in for, going and teasing your commander just for the fun of it. Because you were messy and horny and needed to be stuffed. You did not know it would result in the most in-depth and passionate fucking of your life. He needed it even more than you did, the stress of his job and the constant questioning of his morals was beginning to drive him mad. He did not feel like a person anymore. He was a martyr, represented every single soldier in the Survey Corps. The public could point and blame him whenever an expedition went bad, every loss of life was his fault. He was a devil.

The only thing devilish about the man was the way he fucked, no mercy, using every bit of his strength to get exactly what he wants. You cannot do anything but moan and cry as he pounds into you, unaware that all of his anguish was being poured into you. He feels the most alive he's felt in years, he never wants it to end. He wished he could fuck you until his heart stops. His movements grow faster, the mattress loudly squeaking and you wrap your legs around his back. You cry out his name as he watches your breasts bounce with every movement.

"S-so good daddy" You whimper into his ear, clinging to his body and trying to pull him even closer as if it were possible. "Fuck! Feels so good!" Your hips are trying to meet his thrusts sloppily. Too preoccupied to think, you dig your forehead into his shoulder, moaning whatever words you can make out. When you bite down on his shoulder he cannot stop the moans which leave his mouth. His noises are the hottest thing you have ever heard, so deep and guttural. You suck on his adam's apple, pussy clenching due to his desperate noises.

"Gonna cum inside this messy pussy" He manages to speak, and the sight of your juices splattered across his abs make him want to finish that very moment. He wants to watch the glistening skin as you gush around him but he knows he won't last with such a filthy sight. He just needs a little bit more before he lets it all go completely. Erwin slips a palm beneath your head and cups the crown of your head, groaning because you're now fucking him back, desperately clawing at his back muscles as you try to guide his pace into you. He moves up to catch your lips but cannot find it in himself to kiss you when he feels such ecstasy. You moan into each others mouths so desperately as he rocks into you. You continue to fuck down on his cock, thighs beginning to shake.

"Mm! Mm! G'na...fuuuck" You cry out as your orgasm finally arrives. It rocks your entire body and you go limp, unable to form a single thought as Erwin chases his own high.

Luckily, the way your walls squeezed him in the second you came was more than enough to encourage his release out of him. His toes curl as he finally lets himself finish, panting into your skin as his cock twitches inside of you. Both of your bodies are slick with sweat by now and he keeps himself inside of you, letting all of his weight down. His head rests on your chests, mewling in delight when you bring your fingers to scratch his scalp. "What do you say darling?" He reminds as he remembers a hand still remains tangled in your hair, pulling you closer to press a lazy kiss on his lips.

You kiss him back longer then expected and he leans into your touch, causing his cock to slip out. You both whine at the sudden loss of contact. It almost feels wrong to not have him plugging you up. "Thank youu" You remember and he laughs almost mockingly. His thumb grazes your lip and he pulls you closer to kiss you again. His tongue teasingly introduces itself into your mouth before pulling out completely. He remains close, hot breath ghosting against your skin. "Mm, thank you so much daddy"

He kisses you again, so hungry it makes you whine-suddenly aware of his seed which leaks out of your swollen pussy. "You're so adorable" You meet with another sloppy kiss and when you suck on his tongue excitedly his dick springs back to life.

"Again" He orders, a newfound burst of energy as he shoots back up. Resting back on his haunches, he pats the bed. "On your knees"

You're staring at him like he is insane. Of course you want him again, you feel so empty without him. But you would also like to be able to walk tomorrow. Your arms are barely strong enough to hold yourself up, shaking with the way you lean back on them. You are a very busy woman, have important drills to run with the newest recruits and the thought of flying around through the trees in your ODM gear makes you want you cry. You are so sore already, your poor pussy feels like she was abused. Not to mention you have to walk an almost comical amount of stairs just to get outside in the first place. "B-but I have drills to run tomorrow" You pout.

Erwin laughs at the scared look in your eyes, so mean as he rolls his eyes dismissively. "I'm certain you'll live" He mocks and it makes you pout even harder. "Don't be a brat, I thought you were a good girl"

"I am!" You insist and you look so cute it makes his dick twitch in anticipation. He needs you again, and he will have you again.

"Hmm, I'm not so sure" He teases, fingers running up your thigh to meet your pussy. "Thought you want to make your Commander happy?" He asks, using a finger to clean up some of the cum that was now dripping inside of you.

When he pushes it back inside, your leg twitches and the man smiles wickedly. "I do Commander!" You whine. "You deserve the best"

He raises an eyebrow expectantly and you get the hint, flipping your body over and arching your ass up into the air. He is very obviously pleased, placing a harsh slap to your ass. He does it again, watching the way your flesh ripples with each smack. You yelp the fourth time he does it, this one harder than the rest. "Good girl" You smile at the praise, glad you are back in his good graces. You'll take him as many times as he likes-so long as he never looks at you again with that disappointed look in his eyes.

He lines himself up your entrance, entering slow this time. Your velvet walls suck him in so greedily it's hard to move, but he manages with a few curses escaping his lips. He throws his head back with the next thrust, obsessed with the squelch of all of the juices leaking out your sloppy pussy. "Ohh my" He moans, eyebrows furrowing as he watches his cock disappear into your tiny hole. The way you tighten around his limb makes him think you are fighting the urge to run away from it. He notices your dainty hands clawing at the sheets, your face scrunched up as you moan loudly.

The sound of clapping begins to arise with every thrust, he grabs your sides to keep you in place, his hips piston into you at an unrelenting pace. You can't even think. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" You cry each time the tip brushes your cervix and Erwin is in a trance of his own. His eyes are glued to the creamy ring forming at the base of his cock, ears so focused on listening out for those nasty noises exiting your cunt.

He moans unabashedly as he drills into your poor cunt. He is too focused on the lewd noises exiting your pussy that he does not notice the way the headboard slams against the wall. The wood is old, creaky and likely rotting by now. It also has taken quite enough beatings already from your late night escapades with Levi, you aren't sure it can handle much more. But you don't dare to try and stop him, you're too fucked out to speak anyways. You gasp when he hits a certain spot that makes you see stars.

"Right there princess?" He groans, pulling himself almost completely out before snapping his hips right back into the same spot, earning the same reaction out of you. "Daddy takes good care of his girl right?"

Your eyes are almost crossing with the overstimulation. His deep commanding voice, the way his balls slap your clit with every thrust, his fingertips digging into your thighs so tightly they're sure to leave a mark and his filthy fucking words are going to be the death of you. You take a deep breath, eyes squeezed shut at the delicious mix of pain and pleasure. "Yes daddy! Yes! Doing so good!" You're a mess, drooling into the sheets as it seems the man has finally met his goal. You are ruined. Your words are growing borderline incoherent, repeating the same things over and over. "So good! S-so big! Mm-so strong!"

Erwin is practically lifting your bottom half completely off the bed, drilling into you as if his life depends on it. The 'pat pat pat' of skin slapping together makes him feel absolutely feral, his eyes stuck on the way your body moves with each calculated thrust. "Yes!" He chants like a prayer, growling when your pussy begins to squeeze him. And the way you whine, cry, and slobber beneath him makes it seem like you haven't been fucked good in a while. "What would Levi say if he saw his pretty little slut bent over for her Commander?" He slaps your ass and you squeal. His thumb goes to press against the rim of your asshole, teasing the flesh lightly as he pulls your pussy back onto him.

"Ahh!" You moan, fully intending to answer his question. "Oh he'd be so mad!" You giggle and another thrust makes you cry out again. "F-fuck cant imagine"

"Does he fuck you better than this darling?" The man spits on your pussy, leaving a stinging sensation with another rough slap to your ass. The skin is red and he hopes to god a handprint will be left over to commemorate this blissful night. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your skull, whining like a bitch in heat as he rubs against your g-spot. You cannot talk, pussy squeezing his cock that is currently abusing your hole. And when he stops, going to press his palm flat against the side of your head you want to cry. Slowly fucking yourself back into him, you shudder, overstimulation creeping up as he hits every spot perfectly. "I asked you a question slut"

Truth is, you are afraid to answer. Things with Levi are just different. And not in a bad way, you have cried around his cock multiple times and he has certainly pleased you in the past. With Erwin drilling into you, you want to scream that he is the best you've ever had and ever will. But you also fear the repercussions, should Levi ever find out you said that you will be punished for God knows how long. But Erwin absolutely needs you to fuel his ego, he needs to fuck you better than Levi ever can. So he angles your hips a bit more and thrusts hard, keeping his tip pressed against your cervix and rubbing the spot lightly. You scream at the sensation, eyes beginning to well up from the pleasure. His hand pushes your head deeper into the bed, picking your hips up even more as he used you like a doll. "Is this all your good for princess? Nothing but a tight fuck-hole"

You cry out garbled moans of his name as he fucks you so meanly. In this moment he has full control, and you will do whatever he says. "S-so much better than Levi daddy!" He almost stops to confirm if he heard that right but he decided he would much rather fuck the confession out of you again. So he does, arching your back even more and fucking you harshly into the mattress. The bedframe is back to being thrown against the wall again, loud creaks matching his every thrust. "Your dick is so good daddy! Best I ever had!"

That is exactly what he needed to hear to lose the little bit of composure left in his body. His groans and movements are starting to become borderline animalistic. The sight is so obscene, if anyone were to walk in they would come face to face with the shock of their life. He does not worry about the noise, the only other person with living quarters on this floor is Hange and she's no snitch. Especially if she knew the Commander was involved, he was more than positive she would look the other way. The only other person he can think of who would come up here is Levi and by God he hopes he does. The thought makes his balls tighten, Levi listening on the other side of the door as his sweet girl cries around Erwin's cock.

"This pussy is mine now" The blonde commands, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. "I'm going to take you wherever I want whenever I want okay Soldier?"

"Y-yes commander!" You're fully sobbing by now, tears streaming down your face. You look sooo pretty, Erwin thinks. It is making all smart thoughts fly out the window, oh how he needs you to scream out his name.

"Say my name" The man orders, cock still stuck inside you and moving at an unrelenting speed. His stamina is almost as impressive as his cock. "Let them all know who fucks your cunt this good"

"Yes! Yes!" You nod beneath him, still pressed into the sheets as you try to ignore the loud 'CRACK!' coming from your headboard. A few more calculated thrusts are sure to make the thing fall apart. "Ohh Erwin! So good! Erwin!"

"That's it sweetheart" He moans freely into the air, hips snapping into yours. "Let them know how good your Commander fucks you"

You continue chanting his name and the second your eyes squeeze shut, walls clamping down on him the bed finally breaks. It crashes down as his cock continues to plunge into you, for some reason seeing the wood crack right down the middle makes Erwin go even harder. He desperately hopes Levi can hear the depraved noised which fill the room. Your head is growing dizzy, gasping for air as your thighs begin to shake. You try to warn him of your upcoming release but it comes much faster than anticipated, you sob as your juices spray his abs. His big heavy balls are coated with your liquid and he admires the way it almost glows with the light. And this time around he doesn't even have to remind you to scream out "Thank you! Thank you!"

"That was a big one princess" He moans, chasing his own release as his thrusts grow sloppy. His hands grip your hair even harder and you hiccup as he leans his body into yours, fucking your pussy almost lazily. The sight of you squirting will never leave his head after this, he fully intends to see you do it again. "Oh so good" He moans, finally shivering as his cock twitches. Slapping himself against your pussy he finally cums, spraying your womb with his seed. Unfortunately, thanks to Levi he is aware that you are on birth control. It's almost painful to think he has no chance of getting you pregnant, but he still imagines your stomach swollen with his child.

He pulls out, finally relaxing as he lays down beside you. Both of your chests going up and down as you try to catch your breaths. You are an absolute mess, sprawled out across the sheets-still on your stomach. Your head is facing the opposite way, in its own pile of tears and slobber from being fucked so dumbly. His cum drips out of you, a heavenly sight that he cannot tear his eyes away from. But he wants to feel you close, the man brings out a hand to trace up your spine. It makes you shiver with delight. "Let me hold you darling"

You wordlessly turn over to face him, welcoming yourself into his strong, warm arms. Your head rests on his chest, bare bodies pressed together as he softly plays with your hair. Your hands rests on his chest, feeling his heartbeat drum against your palm. Erwin kissed the top of your head softly, he feels so welcome in the comfort of your bedroom. He intends to sleep with you in his arms, and just maybe he will stay tomorrow night too if you let him.

"Erwin?" You ask hesitantly, the post-orgasm clarity kicking in as you take in the weight of your actions. You fucked your Commander, what now?

"Yes my darling?"

"What am I going to tell them about my bed?"

___

Levi is quick to make it to your room next morning. He is up bright and early, intending to catch you before you make your way down to the mess hall for breakfast. He also hopes that maybe he'll get some make-up sex out of this. He even showered the second he woke up. He knows he is an idiot and getting shitfaced last night was enough to make him realize he loves you. It is the only reason he acted so out of his character, no respect or second-thought for your feelings. He regrets it all and is fully prepared to do what it takes you make you officially belong to him.

He is at the end of the hall, only a few steps away from the staircase when he heard your door open. He hears you giggle, it makes his heart drop. He cannot remember the last time he heard your sweet laugh. And he is utterly puzzled when he sees you push Erwin out your bedroom door into the hall. You say something he can't make out and Erwin obnoxiously laughs at your words before the door closes in his face. Levi is utterly shocked as the wheels in his head turn, noticing that Erwin is still in the same clothes he wore to the Pub last night. He was not in Uniform, instead he had a few of his shirt buttons undone, the fabric very obviously wrinkled and not neatly pressed like his clothing always was. He also appears to not even be showered yet, he looks like he has just woken up. Worst of all is the God-forsaken, smug smile on his lips when Erwin finally catches sight of Levi who remains in his place at the end of the hall.

"Good morning Levi" The blonde greets.

"Erwin" Is all the raven-haired man says, that same unimpressed look on his face as always. "Were you just leaving Y/N's room? Did you sleep there?" He has no shame in asking, he needs to know.

"Oh we were just having a conversation! Don't be ridiculous" He walks closer to Levi, who remains with his arms crossed. "It seems she is need of a new bed-frame"

Levi's eye twitches, he knows that shitty thing is on it's last legs. He's partly to blame for that. "And why's that?"

Erwin sighs, slapping a hand on Levi's shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I'll take care of it" Levi immediately throws his hand off and the man continues inching towards the staircase. "Just get back to work Captain!" Levi rolls his eyes, watching the Commander begin his descent down. "That's an order!"

#erwin smith #levi ackerman #erwin x reader #aot #aot erwin #erwin aot #aot x reader #aot smut #erwin smith smut #erwin smith x you #pt 2 w levi??#levi attack on titan #levi x reader

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jaegeraether · 8 months

Text

Sunsets and footballers (Part 56)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (50) / Alexia Putellas x Character (16) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (9)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((**5.9k**))

Alexia POV

They were all standing around the baggage carousel, avoiding a few photographers who’d appeared and Alexia was regretting the fact that she hadn’t worn a hat. She looked over at Lucy who was using her body to protect an embarrassed Blau from photos in her wheelchair, Jordan kneeling on the other side, reassuring her. Lucy had gone to stalk over and scare them away, but Blau’s hand remained tightened around her jumper.

It was then that Alexia spotted Ridley. It was the first time she’d seen her since just after she’d jump seated the take-off and they’d had their close encounters. The flight attendants had checked on the four multiple times, especially Blau, and Alexia knew it was because Ridley had asked. She watched her now as she sauntered through the crowd as if she owned the place. The uniform on her was perfection. Perfectly crisp and clean, her gold wings pinned just above her breast and her tie cutting the symmetry of her white shirt. She wore a leather belt and black, lace-less boots she could see were expensive. She already had her suitcase that she was pulling with her good hand, her flight bag strapped on top. In her cast hand, she held a lead with her not broken fingers as Narla trotted in front of her. She was also wearing a plain black backpack and her pilot’s hat. Alexia’s heart skipped a beat. That wasn’t the cutest thing about her though, surprisingly. The cutest thing was Chiquito perched on her backpack, his front paws on her shoulder, head raised as he looked around. It was adorable. She melted and felt her breath trembling, unable to look elsewhere but at her.

Ridley turned her head with a little smile at the cat and gave him a kiss which he leaned into and then rubbed his cheek along that sharp jawline of hers as she turned back. It was then that she locked eyes with Alexia.

Alexia couldn’t even try to pretend she wasn’t looking because it would be a lie. Yep, she’d definitely be touching herself that night.

Ridley gave a smirk at her as she approached and as she came closer, she noticed the photographers, and something similar to indignation flashed across her eyes.

“Riddles!”

“Hey peg-leg. Attracting attention, are we?”

“It’s just because I’m here,” Lucy said cockily as she took Narla’s lead from her with a thank you and she bent down to pick her up. She brought her over to Jordan and Blau to pat. “How did you get them?”

“I don’t like making Chiquito wait. Their crates will come out on the carousel.”

Lucy nodded and they each gave their thanks for the crema catalana surprise.

As Alexia was closest, Chiquito’s attention was on her and so she stepped towards Ridley to pet him also. He closed his eyes and leant his head on her shoulder as she did so.

“He loves attention,” she admitted in Spanish.

“He can have all of the attention he wants,” Alexia replied as another blinding photo flash was taken of the interaction. She shuffled to the side so her back was to them. “We don’t share that.”

“No?” Ridley took her pilot’s hat off and put it on Alexia, pulling it down slightly before adjusting her hair over her ears. Alexia just let her, enjoying the gesture, and gave her a thankful smile.

“What’re ya doin’ here? Just go!” Came an annoyed voice with a strong accent behind them.

“Chickens!” Jordan grinned as she ran over for a hug.

Alexia reluctantly broke her gaze with Ridley and turned to see Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord making their way over. Their lunch seemed to be expanding again.

They greeted them all and ducked down near Blau to give her supportive hugs and words.

“We Aussies are built strong,” Caitlin said proudly as she kissed her on the cheek a bit too hard. Blau winced as her jaw was still very much sore and bruised. “Sorry!”

“Where is tha bitch?” Katie asked Lucy.

“Currently? A Spanish prison. They’re being flown back to England for the court date. Although it happened in Spain, their hearing will be here.”

“And she’s goin’ away then?”

“Absolutely. She’s not escaping it this time.” Lucy’s words were blunt and mad. Blau reached out to stroke her thigh as Lucy held Narla.

Alexia was never really the overly touchy type. She was similar to Lucy actually, though not as extreme, only appreciating hugs when they were warranted. Though every time she was near Ridley, she just wanted to be touching her, hugging her, pressed up against her. She could feel her body leaning towards her even at that moment. It made her wonder if her need for Ridley’s touch was similar to Blau and Lucy’s.

“You two know Alexia obviously,” Lucy introduced. They each shared a Spanish welcome. She’d met them on several occasions and even played against them.

“Yeah, we lost against her,” Caitlin laughed.

“What’re ya doin’ in London? Planning on joined Arsenal?”

Alexia chuckled. “Just for holiday.”

“Ah. Your knee playin’ up?”

“Little bit.”

“We know a few good physios-”

“She’s already meeting up with mine.” Lucy interjected.

“Oh, she’s really good!”

Lucy nodded proudly. “You’ve used her?”

“Oh yeah, plenty o times. She’s a magician. And easy on the eyes.”

Caitlin smacked her. Blau gestured to Ridley.

“And you remember me mentioning Ridley, right?”

They both turned to her. “Oh, the sexy one, right? I see what ya mean.”

Caitlin rolled her eyes and introduced herself as a fellow Australian. And then Katie did.

“Hi, I’m Katie, nice to meet cha! And who’s this little guy?!”

Alexia had to step back as they swarmed around Chiquito giving him more love and attention to enjoy.

“Chiquito.”

“He looks young, no?”

“He’s still just a baby.”

“How’s the hand?” Caitlin asked.

Ridley lifted her cast arm. “Healing.”

“You flew a plane like that?”

“No, I won’t be able to fly the big jets for a few weeks. I just like dressing up.”

Alexia chuckled and shook her head. Ridley flashed her a wink.

“Did Leah confirm?” Blau asked Jordan.

Caitlin answered first. “She’s coming and bringing Kyra, but Jonas wouldn’t let us all leave too early. They’re going to meet us at lunch. We’ll give you three a lift.”

“I don’t know if the bags will fit for all three…” Katie said.

“I’ll take Jordan and the extra bags,” Ridley said. “And Alexia, of course.”

“No driver?” Alexia asked.

“I cancelled him when I knew I was also coming. He dropped my car at the airport instead.”

Ridley was driving her…

“Do you want me to drive?” Jordan asked.

“Thanks Nobbs but I don’t think you’ll be able to see over the steering wheel.”

Jordan pouted as the group chuckled.

“But your hand…” Alexia started.

“You’ll be surprised by what I can do with just one hand, la Reina.”

Alexia had never been so tempted to fuck someone in public before. Ridley’s eyes darkened as she watched Alexia squirm and they flirted just with their eyes.

Katie stepped back and murmured to Blau. “Ohh… so this is a thing.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” she murmured in response. Alexia ignored them as she held Ridley’s flirting gaze, refusing to back down or away. Her eyes dropped to her lips and she imagined what they tasted like. As if to infuriate her more, Ridley parted her lips and Alexia felt herself leaning forwards-

And then the carousel started up and broke the tension.

“Christ, I need to cool off.” Katie laughed.

YFN POV

“That’s for being so gentle, Luce,” YFN murmured and leant over for a soft kiss, her ribs and collarbone complaining as she did so but she didn’t care. Her lips were so soft. Lucy gave a satisfied hum onto her lips before pulling away and YFN saw Lucy’s dazzling green eyes flutter back open again behind her glasses before she smiled. They were sitting around a table at lunch, Narla curled up on a chair next to Lucy and Chiquito on Ridley’s lap.

“You say that like you’re surprised.”

Ridley scoffed. “We all know your impulsive thoughts wanted you to race her wheelchair around like Mario Kart. Trust me, I had the same impulse.”

Lucy stifled a guilty laugh and YFN may have been hurting all over, but it didn’t stop her launching a bread roll over the table.

Ridley caught it and bit into it. She’d changed before they left and was now in casual clothes. Alexia was sitting to her left and had also changed, though simply by swapping the pilot’s hat for a plain black one and putting on another jacket. She wasn't used to the cold weather.

“I’m hungry,” Lucy grumbled.

“They’re almost here,” Caitlin reassured as she texted.

“Nice flowers,” Katie said, gesturing to Ridley’s cast.

“That’s all Alexia.” She turned to the Spaniard. “I never asked you about that. Do you draw?”

“Sometimes.”

She lifted her arm up and gestured to the two flowers next to each other, specifically their stems. “And this wouldn’t be your attempt to brand me with the number 11, would it?”

Alexia looked like she’d been caught. YFN saw Ridley patiently waiting for a response, seeming to enjoy Alexia’s hesitation.

Alexia opened her mouth to speak when a loud voice interrupted them.

“Big sis!”

She turned to Kyra bounding over.

“Hey little sis.”

Kyra went to grab her when Lucy jumped up and tackled her. “GENTLY, Kyra.”

She gave a guilty grin and blushed. It was always strange to YFN to think of how much the young Australian looked up to Lucy.

“Calm?”

Only when she nodded did Lucy release her. God it was sexy when she protected her. Kyra came over for a soft hug and kiss on the cheek before she spotted Alexia and froze.

“And Kyra, that’s Alexia, Alexia, Kyra Cooney-Cross. Another Aussie.” Alexia shook her hand across the table while Kyra fumbled over words until she managed to say hello. Alexia was amused but graceful about it as she usually was.

“And Kyra, that’s Ridley. I’m mentioned her before, my oldest friend. Riddles, this is Kyra.”

Ridley gave her an Aussie nod, stroking Chiquito on her lap.

“Is that a cat?!”

“You’re lucky he only speaks Spanish. Don’t listen to her, Chiquito, you can be whatever you want to be.”

YFN laughed out loud at the contradiction of what she’d just said.

Kyra snorted and fell into a seat next to YFN. Lucy grunted. “Nuh uh.”

She bent down and picked up Kyra’s seat with her still in it and walked her to the far end of the table, past Katie, and dropped her there. YFN watched her biceps bulging into her jacket as she did so, Kyra squealing with joy.

“I’m not risking you getting excited and grabbing her.” She said as she pushed her chair in.

The table laughed at the little exchange and Lucy gave YFN a wink, proud of herself as she came back to her.

“Maybe I didn’t have to come to England at all,” Ridley murmured from across the table. “Keep it up, Bronze.”

YFN saw Jordan peer over the group and followed her gaze as Leah joined them.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find parking and this one just abandoned ship,” she said, gesturing to Kyra and she moved her sunglasses to the top of her head.

She made her way to YFN first and squatted down.

“How are you doing? Okay? Can I get you anything?”

“I’m okay, thanks Leah. I appreciate it.” They shared a hug and Leah made her way around the table greeting everyone, pausing at Alexia to have a short conversation before she sat in the last empty seat next to Jordan. Although the table were all having their own conversations, YFN could hear her low voice.

“Hey Jord,” she murmured. “Thanks for inviting me.”

“Hey Lea.” They shared a soft smile between them and then they went silent. YFN knew that Leah was unsure if Jordan was ready for a full conversation and that Jordan was in a similar state of mind. They just looked like they wanted to be close to each other.

YFN leant over as far as her ribs would let her, beckoning Caitlin closer to murmur in her ear.

“Let’s try to keep a casual conversation going with Dory and Leah… I don’t think they’re ready to talk yet.”

Caitlin nodded in agreement and struck up a conversation with the pair, Katie and Kyra jumping in. She felt Lucy’s hand squeeze her own in support. They shared their own knowing smile. She gestured to Ridley and Lucy kicked her a bit too hard under the table.

Ridley didn’t flinch. She turned nonchalantly and raised an eyebrow in question. YFN gestured to Leah and Jordan knowing that she would understand. She did and pulled Alexia into the conversation also.

Looking around, she realised the table were in their couples, all in different stages of romance. Lucy and YFN, obsessive. Katie and Caitlin smitten. Jordan and Leah repairing their love from the ground up. Ridley and Alexia both with boundaries up yet shamelessly flirting and trying to not accept that the tension between them was palpable, and probably obvious to most of the restaurant. And then there was Kyra, grinning up the end, happy to be there.

“Are we ready to order?” Lucy asked and she knew she was getting frustrated.

Ridley stood and placed Chiquito into Alexia’s arms. “I’m starved. I’ll go get a server.”

A kid on a bicycle pulled up behind them on the footpath. “Arsenal sucks balls!”

YFN’s mouth dropped, he had to be only about twelve.

“Keep on ridin’, kid.” Katie encouraged diplomatically.

“You don’t even have balls,” Kyra taunted as Caitlin reached over Katie to slap her.

“And girls’ football is shit, you all got beaten by a bunch of fifteen-year-old boys.”

“Get out of here. We’re trying to eat lunch.” Leah also went into diplomatic mode.

“And my dad says you’re all a bunch of lesbians.” It was funny because it sounded like he didn’t know what lesbians were. To be fair, no one at the table was straight and even funnier was that Ridley was both the straightest and most gay of the bunch.

Lucy stood and he hurriedly pushed off, riding away with a proud grin.

“That’s it, I’m chasing him.”

“Riddles, he looks like he’s twelve.”

“I don’t care if he’s twelve, I’m going to argue with him. Order me the ragu please, Blue.”

Ridley hopped the fence and jogged off down the street, Alexia’s expression surprised and amused.

“Is she for real?” Jordan asked.

“Oh yes. You’ll get used to it. Loves to correct injustice, that one.”

Jordan scoffed and YFN knew it was because Leah was the exact same. Leah didn’t look at her, but she did hide a smile as she looked at the menu.

A server came over then, not knowing where to look. From the wheelchair to the Arsenal girls and then widening at Lucy and Leah and even more at Alexia.

“A…are you ready to order?” he asked.

They placed their orders one by one.

“And a ragu please,” YFN said.

“And can we get a bowl of water for our little dog please? And maybe some milk for the cat?” Lucy asked.

He nodded. “We also do food for them too…”

“That’d be amazing. Thanks.”

The server finished writing it down and asked permission before he bent down to Narla curled up on a spare chair, giving her a pat before he left.

YFN tugged Lucy’s hand and the footballer automatically turned to her and leant in for the soft kiss she expected. Lucy gave another little satisfied hum into the kiss before pulling away and brushing the purple bruising on her face gently with her thumb. They were so happy in their own little world while the girls chatted around them. She wondered back to when she’d surprised her at her game and Lucy had looked like she’d wanted to kiss her so badly but didn’t because of the crowds. She made a mental note to bring that up later.

“What was that for, little one?”

“You said ‘our little dog’.”

She smirked as her green eyes hooded behind her glasses and she looked love-drunk. “Motherhood suits you.”

YFN tucked a strand of hair from her low bun back, her fingertip tracing around the outside of her ear as she did so.

Lucy gave her another quick peck, this time on the dimple, just as Ridley arrived back, leaping back over the fence. Alexia offered to give Chiquito back, however he was fast asleep in her lap. “Just leave him to sleep,” she murmured as she reached over, her arm resting against Alexia’s as she stroked him.

They all had their little discussions around the table, Kyra firing off a lot of questions to Lucy and Alexia. Ridley sometimes had to help Alexia with translations. They looked like such an attractive couple and YFN wasn’t aware if they knew just how far they were leaning towards each other, their shoulders almost touching and their fingers brushing while they pet Chiquito.

YFN texted Kyra when she calmed down a little.

YFN: How was your date, mate?

She saw Kyra blush as she read it.

Kyra: It went really well. She kissed me…

Lucy read it over her shoulder and shot her a proud thumbs up.

YFN: You’re happy?

Kyra: Really really happy

YFN: When’s date number two?

Kyra: This Sunday after the game. She’s playing in London.

YFN: Lucy said ‘wear protection’.

Kyra: Yeah because she’ll get me pregnant *eye roll emoji*

YFN chuckled as she showed Lucy.

“Still want kids?” YFN teased.

“Don’t tease me while I can’t have sex with you,” she murmured quietly in her ear as if she’d even able to get her pregnant.

She turned and replied just as quietly. “I thought you were hungry?”

She pulled away to see Lucy’s eyes darken before she moved close again, her lips on her ear.

“Nothing’s stopping your mouth from reaching me…”

“What’re whisperin’ about over there?” Katie huffed.

“Probably about us,” Kyra said.

“My money is on them flirting,” Jordan teased.

YFN heard Ridley’s shoe hit Lucy’s just as hard as she’d received before.

“Bronze…” It was a warning. “How am I supposed to let you two go unsupervised?”

“How are YOU allowed to go around unsupervised?” YFN retorted.

She flashed a grin. “Pure sex appeal?”

“What are you going to do with work?” Leah asked YFN, changing the subject.

She sighed. “I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. I’ve spoken to everyone and I think it’s best if I keep working from home.”

“You’ll keep organising the crews?”

“Yeah, I’ll sort all of the rostering and content out. We’re in London but I’m not going to be able to get to work and back everyday, it’s too much of a pain, so I’ll do some networking, content building, organise the rosters, and I’ll zoom our prep meetings.”

“What about the interviews?”

“We have a group of talented interviewers now who I’ve been working with closely. I trust them.”

“Yeah, they did really well at our game last weekend actually,” Caitlin admitted.

“I’m running a tight ship on that. But I was also thinking of interviews from home.” She looked at Lucy. “Luce and I have been talking about putting a few backdrops up for the photographers to snap a few photos of each guest, and then I was thinking of making a casual segment on interviews that I can put out twice a week.”

“I’m in! Individuals?” Katie supported.

“Yeah I was thinking just one on one and super casual in the lounge room-”

“-so she can rest her leg.” Lucy interjected.

“Yeah, and also I think it’d be nice for people to see their players out of uniform in a comfy environment. We’ll be chatting, drinking coffee, trying to ask questions that are not as typical as your usuals.”

“Shotgun first!” Kyra almost yelled.

Lucy scoffed at her. “Too slow! You can go second.”

YFN rolled her eyes. “I’ll be sending an email around to all of the players currently working with us to see if they’re interested and make a list to go through. Is that something everybody would be interested in? Completely fine if you’re not!”

“I think we’re all pretty keen mate,” Jordan admitted.

“Only English?” Alexia asked hesitantly.

YFN didn’t know why, but she was a little caught off guard that she seemed interested. She wasn’t planning on pushing anything with Alexia as she was already so massively popular and overwhelmed with requests and interviews.

“Absolutely not, I’m fine interviewing in any language. I can get a translator. I don’t want it to be just English speaking.”

“Have you done an interview in English?” Leah asked, leaning forward to see her.

“Uh one but I not sure if it came out.”

“I think your English is definitely good enough for an English interview, Alexia. I personally think it would be great to see a proper, relaxed English interview with you. We can edit anything out and won’t post it unless you’re happy with it. Completely up to you. Also we can have a translator there just in case. Ridley, if she’s free.”

She and Ridley shared a look.

“I’ll be fine with that,” Ridley murmured as she broke their gaze.

“Okay, we can do that while I here,” Alexia agreed.

“Sounds like you’re going to have a backlog of interviews to get through,” Lucy laughed. “So much for alone time.”

Ridley kicked her again as the food arrived.

YFN dug in, not realising how hungry she was but also not enjoying the pain as she chewed. Although she was starved, Lucy paused to help her take her pain medication.

“What about a podcast?” Jordan asked. “Everyone’s doing those now but they’re not getting many players on.”

“Yeah, that’s also one of my thoughts. Podcast twice a week and an interview twice a week would keep me busy and pick up popularity and views. I just need another regular host on the actual podcast and it can’t be any of you because you could be anywhere.”

“Jill doesn’t have much work on…” Leah suggested. Jill Scott, the former England player. She’d retired recently.

“Oh?”

“We were talking about it the other day actually.”

“I think she’d be a great fit to be honest, she has done a lot of interviews. We’ll just need to prep together and see the dynamic between us. Can you send her my phone number?”

She nodded, mid-bite. “Will do - she’s going to be so excited.”

“There’s Alex…” Alexia suggested.

“Alex?”

“Alex Scott?” Leah confirmed with her. Alexia nodded. Another former England player. She and Alexia had played together a while back.

“That’s also a very good thought… do you have her contact?”

Alexia shook her head.

“I’ll send her your details also,” Leah offered.

“Big sis, you’re not going to do all of the interviews at Lucy’s house are you?”

“No, just while I’m recovering. I plan on it being a regular segment that I can take around the globe to interview players in casual settings so it’ll just start like that but really my vision was that we’d tailor the interview around the player. Like for Lucy we can do some fun activity where she can show off how good she is at everything. Like a sport or I’d really like to do a rage room…”

She and Lucy shared a look as they thought about their exciting rage room date. Smashing the room to pieces and then chasing each other with water balloons full of paint. Running out of paint as Lucy tackled her to the ground and their mouths met, hot an desperate, their tongues stroking each other as Lucy pulled her leg up around her-

“-stroke the ego,” Jordan quipped, knocking her from the memory.

“Exactly,” she laughed. “With Kyra, we can go to an arcade….”

“Really?!”

“With Dory, we can go to the beach…”

“I do love the beach,” she admitted.

“For Caitlin, we can bring in puppies…”

“Oh, that’s actually perfect for me.”

“I want puppies too!” Katie argued.

“I was thinking Nando’s for you…”

Katie almost drooled. “Yeeeeees.”

“For Alexia, we can do some painting…”

Ridley turned to the Spaniard. “You like to paint?”

“Si… how did you know?”

YFN shrugged. “I do my research.”

“Thoughts about me?” Leah asked.

“I was thinking either skiing or just relaxing at Somerset House, depending on the weather, or a country music event. The good thing about the segment is that we can do multiple interviews in multiple places so we’re not just stuck to the same old boring place. Only while I can’t walk…”

“Wow, you really do your research,” Leah admitted. “And I don’t think we have anything like it. I think this is a really good, strong idea and the girls would love it. I’m happy to do whatever, podcast, interview, just let me know.”

YFN felt good, like she was doing something right. “Thanks, Leah.”

She didn’t miss the soft expression Jordan flashed the England Captain.

YFN’s phone buzzed and she looked down at it. It was Catherine checking in again like she had every day since the assault. She’d offered to help in the background with Kristie, but YFN ensured her that Lucy’s lawyers were handling it. She didn’t want to risk Catherine being found out. Instead, she’d asked a favour, and told her about Mark and the sex tape. She’d been disgusted, though she’d handled it. It ‘wouldn’t see the light of day.’

She thanked her for checking in and sent a selfie of the group that she’d gotten Lucy to take. She’d also sent it to the work group chat. The response was overwhelming excitement from work, and from Catherine, thrilled for the content to come, especially with Alexia there.

YFN ate as must as she could, and when she couldn’t stand the pain any longer, she shook her head and pushed her plate towards Lucy. Instead of jumping on it like she usually did, she fully turned her attention to her and rubbed her leg.

“Is it your jaw, love?”

She nodded. How stupid she’d been to get the pasta. And to talk as much as she had been. She should have ordered a-

“Would you like me to order a soup? There’s no way you’re full.”

She nodded instead of speaking and Lucy kissed her nose lightly before standing and going to get her soup. She watched her go, her ass perfect in her dark grey track pants she had on for the flight. She had one hand in her jacket pocket, the other readjusting her glasses. Even sitting there with her leg in a brace and her left arm and shoulder completely immobilised with what had happened, she was still the luckiest girl. Her Lucy.

Lucy returned with soup in a bowl that she could lift and drink. Only after she watched her take the first few sips, did she go back to eating.

They parted way when they’d finished lunch, Katie having to break up the discussions because they were needed back at camp. Katie took Caitlin and Kyra to head back to Arsenal, though also Jordan to drop her at her car at their house as she needed to drive back to Birmingham.

“I’ll see you in a week chicken.” She said as she gave YFN a hug. “If you need anything… anything at all, just let me know and I’ll be here, okay?”

“Thanks, Dory.”

Leah watched her walk away with longing in her eyes. She didn’t need to go to Arsenal as she was headed for a physio session and had offered to drop YFN and Lucy at their apartment instead.

“Would you like me to drop you at my apartment?” Ridley asked Alexia.

She looked a little confused. “You are not staying there?”

She shook her head. “No, I have some business meetings at a hotel in town. They’ve put me up in a room there. The apartment is all yours, and the driver’s number is on the card I gave you…”

YFN knew Alexia was disappointed, though she hid it well. “Okay, and yes please.”

Ridley sauntered over to her with Chiquito. YFN patted the cat and accepted Ridley’s forehead kiss. “I’m just around the corner,” she reminded as she cupped her cheek. “Whatever you need.”

She leant into her hand and nodded. “Thanks for everything, Riddles.”

She watched Ridley walk away and she felt bad for Alexia having come to London with the group, just to be stuck in an apartment alone. YFN knew Ridley was avoiding staying there so she didn’t make a mistake. She KNEW that. But still, she had been flirting. YFN had seen it herself.

“Alexia, do you want to come over tomorrow and hang out?” YFN asked her. “It’ll just be Lucy and I.”

Lucy jumped straight onboard. “I’ll make us lunch and we can watch a movie. We can even go kick a ball around with Narla at the park while she works if you want?”

Alexia smiled cutely and nodded. “Okay.”

Ridley smirked at YFN, knowing exactly what she was doing. She returned a stern gaze as she looked to Alexia and back, making her point. Ridley sighed and held the door open for the Spaniard.

They all parted ways and YFN found herself on Lucy’s doorstep, their suitcases just inside and Narla yapping excitedly, remembering the apartment as they said goodbye to Leah.

“We’ll find a time to chat about me using Lumos when you’re free, okay?”

“You know where I am!” She smiled.

The Lioness hugged them both and just before she left, YFN spoke again.

“Leah?”

“Hm?”

“I’m going to say something, and I don’t want you to be mad at me… and I don't want you to ask questions… but you need to know.”

Lucy’s arm came over her good shoulder supportively and she reached up to tangle their fingers. Leah’s face stiffened, assuming it would be bad news involving Jordan. “Okay.”

“The sex tape? It’s handled.”

She opened her mouth to speak and closed it again, her expression sceptical.

“Leah, I promise you… it’s handled. It’ll never see the light of day. I’m sorry I got involved, but my boss… she knows people. You can take that stress away now and just work on things with Dory, okay?”

They shared a look until Leah’s expression changed and her body relaxed. She believed her. “Thank you.”

“Thanks for protecting Jordan. You always do right by her.”

“She… she’s my person.”

“When are you seeing her next?” She asked softly. “This weekend?”

“I’m not sure. We’re playing in London on Sunday and she’ll be playing in Birmingham Sunday night so probably not.”

Leah felt her stomach sink as she realised she wouldn’t see her for a while. God, she missed her. She missed living with her. She missed everything. Their little date at her house reminded her even deeper at just how badly she wanted her and Blu back in her life. So bad she could barely function. And now knowing that the video was no longer an issue…

Leah’s phone buzzed and she looked down at it.

Jordan: Can I pencil a hug in for Sunday night?

Alexia POV

She understood finally what Blau had said when she mentioned Ridley underestimating the size of her apartment. Her mouth dropped open as she dropped her suitcase in the entrance and looked around. How was this just sitting here in London unused?

The ceilings were high. Way, way too high. The main area was a mass of large, empty space with a living room and kitchen. There appeared to be a hallway leading to a few rooms and a staircase spiralling slowly upwards to what she assumed were more bedrooms.

She composed herself and turned to look at Ridley who was studying her, leaning up against the entrance to the main area.

“When was the last time you were here?”

“Few months ago, after my Dubai trip.”

“For business?”

“Yes.”

“And… this is all yours?”

“Yes.” She looked at her a little longer before pushing off from the wall. “I have colleagues stay here from time to time, or the housekeepers.”

“Housekeepers?” She almost whispered it.

“Yes, Alexia. It won’t stay clean by itself. I have two housekeepers; an older couple who stay when they need to. One of them also does the driving. They’ll stop by tonight to offer to cook you dinner and introduce themselves. I didn’t know if you wanted them to do that or leave you alone… you can let them know of anything you need.”

She was closer now, standing right in front of her. Alexia didn’t know what to say.

“Take a look around. There’s a gym and a pool. My bedroom is upstairs but you’re more than welcome to take any of the spare rooms downstairs.”

She was so close, so overwhelming. And her smell… that spicy musk. She didn’t know if it was that or the pheromones.

“And you have to go?”

“I think we both know it’s best that I do.”

She frowned. “I don’t think that at all…”

She leant down closer. “Then perhaps you should reassess that judgement, la Reina.”

Alexia stood taller, reminding herself who she was. “I’m a very good judge of character.”

Ridley straightened back up and Alexia felt proud of herself.

“I know you are. But not here. Not with me. I’m not… good.”

“I refuse to believe that.”

Alexia believed that so, so deeply. She was good. She was kind. She was strong.

She wanted to tell her that she saw her. That she dreamt about her. That she felt pain when they were close, but didn’t touch. That she felt invincible whenever she was with her, or under her gaze. That she just wanted to get to know her, above all else.

Alexia knew she was staying elsewhere so that she would not be tempted into a ‘mistake’. It hurt her so deeply. She could feel her emotions rising, knowing she’d be crying that night. Alexia always fought her tears, though. Especially around people, as she did so now.

Ridley gave her a soft smile as if she knew, and it looked to Alexia like an apology almost.

She reached out to stroke her cheek and hesitated. Alexia rarely ever saw her hesitate. She was rarely unsure. She continued anyways, her fingertips gliding across her eyebrow, pushing her blonde hair out of her face. Alexia relished her every touch, not knowing if it would be her last. If she would just jump on a plane and leave. It was Ridley, after all.

God, it felt so natural. So right. They didn’t have to force it. They were drowning in it.

Something flashed across Ridley’s eyes and she lowered her hand, speaking softly.

“You have my number.”

Ridley’s way of telling her to text her if she needed her.

And then she turned and walked away.

165 notes · View notes

bloodstainedsaint · 9 months

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Hey, I'm not sure if you take requests, but if you do, I have an idea:) Could you write something about a young woman who was in the Air Force disguised as a man and her plane was hit by the Germans while under attack, forcing her to jump out, leaving her stranded with her plane down and easy company witnessed the whole thing and tries to look for the pilot?

maybe with some romance or whatever with my mans lieb or doc roe if that’s possible hihi

when worlds collide (joseph liebgott x air force! reader)

word count: 1000+

warnings: blood & injury, but nothing really graphic

notes: sorry for the wait on this one 😭 i've been busy BUT i promise to be posting more during my break

You didn't remember much after your plane was hit by German flak while passing over some Dutch forest you couldn't recall the name of. What you could remember was everything rapidly blinking and on fire around you, dials going this way and that, your hands flying around the control board and trying desperately to pull up with the yoke as you cursed violently beneath your breath.

Following your fruitless struggle against gravity, you remembered preparing to parachute out of your plane and into the woods beneath you.

You were pretty sure you blacked out for a while after that.

The sight of a fighter plane nosediving into the ground and its booming resulting crash interrupted an otherwise uneventful five-man patrol through the woods.

“Jesus Christ! Did you see that?” Babe exclaimed, gawking up at where the plane had been in the sky mere seconds ago.

“Looks like it landed near us,” Pat observed.

Don looked wide-eyed. “It was one of ours. The pilot might need our help if he ejected in time!”

Lip shushed them. “There's AA guns nearby. Someone ought to go back and tell Battalion they’re positioned somewhere to our left near that dike we passed. Christenson, you go.”

As Pat nodded and left the way they came, Lip said, “We can't take too long looking for a pilot we don't know is alive or not." He checked his watch and sighed. "Alright, meet back here at 1700. Stay alert. Don't go too far on your own.”

The squad spread out in search of the hopefully-alive pilot. Joe walked with his rifle at the ready for about 20 minutes before stumbling upon large chunks of debris from the plane. Not far from that was a severed parachute, and then a blood trail.

He followed it until he noticed a pilot sitting on the ground next to some brush with his back turned to him, his clothes torn up enough to where large parts of skin littered with cuts were visible. Joe slowly approached, mindful not to scare him and wind up with a bullet in his head.

“Hey,” he called out. “Hey, buddy.”

The pilot turned around, and Joe noticed that “he” was not a he at all.

Your hand shot to the pistol on your belt, leveling it at him while vainly covering up your top half. You’d been trying to treat your wounds with the first-aid kit strapped to your waist; you'd gotten several steadily bleeding scratches from falling through trees and one or two broken ribs from your hasty landing. You ended up taking off your corset to relieve pressure on your ribcage, leaving you with your ripped up uniform and coveralls.

Regardless of your relief that an American soldier had found you rather than a German one, you kept your hand fixed on your sidearm.

“Woah, lady, put down the gun. I'm not a Kraut.” Lowering his own gun, his narrowed eyes flashed to your chest and widened at the sight of the reddish purple bruises that blemished it. "Goddamn..."

“It’s not what it looks like,” you managed out, though talking (or breathing, for that matter) was difficult.

“I don’t care what it looks like,” he said, the edge to his tone softening as he carefully walked toward you. “You need help.”

You painfully exhaled and set the gun down next to you. You turned around again to focus on treating your injuries, wincing with the movement. “I'm fine.”

“You don't look it.” He crouched down next to you. You flinched away slightly — you'd been disguised as a man for a while now, and this was the first time anyone was seeing you so vulnerable since your enlistment — before letting him inspect your wounds, albeit with you concealing your chest with your arms and what remained of your jacket.

“What’s your name?” he asked, gingerly applying sulfa powder to the gashes on your body.

You slightly hissed at the stinging sensation. “(Y/N), Senior Airman, 4th Fighter Group.”

“Joseph D. Liebgott, Technician 5th Grade, 101st Airborne.”

There was a temporary silence, punctuated only by you sucking in air through your teeth. As he bandaged one of the cuts, he said, “We need to get you some help. I was out here on patrol with my squad; we have a medic back at—”

“What?” You looked at him with a bewildered expression. “No, I don't need any medic. I just need help informing my superiors I got lost going through dense fog and got shot down here.”

“Why not? ‘Cause he'll see you're a girl?”

You gave him a pointed look. “Why else? If you haven't noticed, there aren't very many women serving on the front lines.” You paused and took a deep breath in through your nose. “If you bring your squad over here, someone's gonna report me and get me kicked out of the Air Force…Hell, I don't even know if I trust you to not report me. I just met you, for Chrissakes.”

In truth, you didn’t even know why you were letting him tend to you anyways — you were capable of doing it yourself, your biggest secret was currently exposed, and he was a stranger. But there was something about his change in demeanor and a sudden tenderness in his voice once he saw your injuries that made you want to trust him.

“Your secret’s safe, (Y/N),” he said firmly, a set expression on his face. “I got no reason to rat you out; I just met you too.”

You scanned his face for any signs of deceit, sighed when you found none, and nodded. “I’m still not letting your medic take a look at me.”

“Fine, but that’s not gonna stop me from helping you. I’ll be quick; the guys are gonna be expecting me back soon. We’ll go talk to them together.”

He resumed his aid, and after a few minutes, you could tell that he had started getting curious; he didn't seem like a man who knew how to shut up.

“How’d you disguise yourself as a man this long?”

With a shaky inhale, you closed your eyes as his hands brushed over your rib cage. Involuntarily, a small smile made its way onto your face as the countless predicaments you’d found yourself in flooded your memory. “It’s a long story.”

Liebgott cracked a crooked smile. “I can make some time.”

Laughing despite the pain that flared in your rib cage from the action, you couldn't help but feel that this chanced occasion wouldn't be the last time you would speak to Liebgott. And for some reason foreign to you at that moment, you hoped that your intuition was correct.

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop, @joetoyesbrassknuckles101

#band of brothers #band of brothers x reader #joe liebgott x reader #joe liebgott #hbo war #easy company #101st airborne #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #hbo war fanfic #band of brothers imagines #joseph d liebgott #joseph liebgott x reader #joseph liebgott

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mistresswriter19 · 6 months

Text

That's Not My Milk Ma'am... ( Francis Mosses X Female Reader ( NSFW)

🔞 Heavy Smut Warning 🔞 ⚠️

Author's Note: This Milkman has been quite popular in the main and there's a lot of thirsty art of art and fics so joining the band wagon of writing fanfics of Francis Mosses because we all need more of him

Enjoy ^^

1964 ~

You had a job as a doorman or should say doorwomen by checking the residents ID'S and letting them the keys to their apartments every day and it seemed like the hours were very long for you. The people you had to keep track of every time they stepped out from their rooms were your neighbors. That's correct you knew everyone from the floor you were at the third floor apartment three. There has been an outbreak of doppelgangers and you had to be sure that you were carefully keeping watch of your neighbors and if they were doppelgangers they would be exterminated according to the local government.

Another rough day and it seemed there weren't any doppelgangers to report. You went to bed and tried not to think about anything else except for one person you were absolutely interested in but didn't know if they would have the same feelings for you.

( Knock Knock)

You rubbed your eyes as you open the door to see a tired yet attractive milkman holding out a jar of milk as he mumbled his words with a blank expression.

"Your milk ma'am " Francis said as he swiveled the jug seeing the milk tilt to get your attention.

Oh I'm sorry, I must have zoned out. You said putting your hand behind your back with a nervous laugh seeing Francis amused.

It happens to all of us ma'am especially with this " stinking dead end job ". Francis explains with his face looking down at the carpet of yours.

I see but I do appreciate you delivering milk. I know a job like that seems hard. I said holding the milk with both hands and it was still cold must get the first ones you thought to yourself.

Thanks Ma'am Francis replied tipping his hat as a polite gesture which made you face turn pink a little as you did your best to hide at least Francis didn't look because he was busy counting more Milk jugs he had to deliver.

I'll definitely use this milk to drink, and probably for breakfast meals I said trying to start a conversation since it was quite hard for Francis to open up to anyone who always keeps to himself and focus on his job.

See you Ma'am Francis looks back at you then picks up the tray of milk in jugs his foot away from the carpet but you step in and place your hand on his white uniform which caught his attention making him turn away as you wanted to freak out.

WAIT!

Mmmm…

I…uh..I was wondering… Okay no more being awkward… Franics may I come by your apartment when your off work? I like to keep you company. You said as you delicate fingers brushed away from his shoulder. You didn't know how Francis would react and being quite bold to honestly ask him out. After a few minutes of silence you want to close the door but you heard Francis talk making you put your hand away from the door.

Sure, I'll be out by 7pm,

I'm next door to you on the second floor, apartment F0-3 02. Francis explained as you had his full attention.

You sure about this it's just a offer you said putting your hand around your shoulder showing your shyness there was no way in your mind he would say " sure ". But your left kept ringing this wasn't fiction it was reality.

Sure Francis repeated him as adjust his buttons from his uniform making you twiddle your fingers because Francis is a very attractive guy you laid your eyes on his milkman hat always perfectly straight, chestnut brown hair hard to see from the hat but always a mess from the rounds he goes each apartment and house to deliver everyone there daily milk before the day runs out. Belt in place buckled and seemed to have a reflection from the silver attached to the black leather strap keeping hold of his white pants matching his whole white uniform. Francis black stylish shoes were always shiny and heard a squeak. Sometimes just everything about him was perfect. You also couldn't forget his black eyes with a white pupil yet he was so tired but you hope one day he could smile.

Alright sounds perfect. See you soon you said as Francis nods, grabbing the cart and walking away heading down the stairs. You went to follow seeing him go outside knowing each door to deliver milk. Made you have butterflies in your stomach whenever he would walk or hand someone a fresh milk jug.

Francis I wish you were here… you said underneath your breath fantasized with the milk he always delivers but you mostly kept the milk instead of using it all up he you were afraid Francis wouldn't come back. Seems odd but it was a way to remind you of his appearance.

At The Milk Corporation

Francis just got back from the neighborhood and he placed his hand above his head wiping the sweat dripping down his neck. His job wasn't easy getting up around 4am in the morning delivering milk door to door. Sometimes he'll just leave the milk and not answer if he has a lack of sleep. Overall Francis had decent people he encountered, some would flip him off or some wanted to be in bed with him that's where he goes for the main exit outside. Many of his coworkers were the first ones to finish as they drank coffee or smoked a cigarette talking about their lives, everyone chimed in except for Francis who would keep to himself.

"Fuck… I can't keep this up, my knees are going to go out this age "

Exhales from cigarettes " They should pay us more for being up so damn early to deliver milk to people who honestly don't give a shit what happens to us ".

Sips from coffee " It's a job and I have to be somewhat grateful especially for the creepy shit of doppelgangers going on this town".

Franics would open his shirt a little and light up a cigarette laying back on the chair just thinking to himself. How does he do this all day and mostly be home at night? He did look forward to seeing Y/N. He knew from the start that she had a crush on him and made Francis smirk a little as he looked at the clock. More milk jugs have to be filled with cartens to pull and write daily reports. Francis took out his cigarette and got back to work soon or later it was 7pm time to clock out.

Back In The Apartment

I can't believe I'm doing this… you said with your hand clutching on the end of your dress showing your anxiety, you wanted to look nice and presentable by wearing a formal dress, with heels, did your make up, and got your hair done also carrying a purse. You then sigh and saw it was pass 7pm and then Knock on the door.

( Unclicks)

Hey you made it, Come in Francis said opening the door all the way letting you in as you did a curtsey showing nice gesture.

Thank you Francis you said with your hands holding onto your purse with your heels clicking from the ground taking a look at Francis place seem nice, a few vintage style posters, ash tray with newspaper on the table next to the radio. The walk to a kitchen wear it was pretty small but durable for two people, some apartments can give you so much, you step into bathroom, nice tub, men body wash, shaving cream, perfect size toilet and a window nearby that's been closed for years.

You have a lovely home You said looking more around the place instead of Francis because you had two feelings: anxious and excitement.

Thanks Francis replied, tipping his hat like he did in the morning when he first gave you the daily milk.

You wanted Francis to open up. You decided you were going to cook something for the both of you while you chat as you went to the kitchen picking out the ingredients he has and Francis didn't mind at all. The only downfall was no one has ever talked to him for a while except for his daughter who he hardly doesn't see at all.

So Francis, How was your day? You said putting on the stove cooking some hamburger meat into medium size patties with the cheese melted as Francis walks stands leaning against the wall answering your question.

It was fine, tired but I got the amount I was paid for so the same usual day like others when it comes to their job. How about yours?

This was a good start. Francis was opening up little by little with you as you used the spatula to turn the burgers over while smashing, placing a few eggs, peeling the shell, and slicing potatoes.

Well everyone has to do a job but I'm glad it was fine for you. If you want to talk about anything I'm here for you. You said as you then added a scoop of mayonaise making a potato salad to go with the burgers.

Thanks…. Y/N. You're the first one who's ever wanting to know about my day and visit. Francis said walking closer to you as you finished the burgers placing the buns together and serving them in a plate. You felt Francis body lean to you as you couldn't help but your face turned pink he was a very attractive milkman. You brushed it off and place the food on the table.

I hope you like it, since the weather is pretty warm, why not homemade burgers and potato salad, you said with a smile.

This looks delicious thank you. Francis said as he took a bite of your burger and the fork to take a bite of your potato salad. Then you went to the fridge to grab drinks all you say were mostly beer and milk.

Beer or milk Francis? You ask having a hard time deciding

Beer for me, had a long day. Francis replied, taking a few more bites of the burger as you nodded, opening the bottle cap and handing it to him. Then you realized your fingertips touched, causing you to look at each other, then looked away a little.

How's your job as a doorwoman? Francis asked as he takes a long sip of beer tapping on the tip a little as you answered not really touching your food just more interested in communicating with Francis.

It's good, I had no doppelganger situations just the usual residents, checking there IS and leading them to there rooms. The usual but it was nice I got out a decent time when I was able to swing to meet you. You said your hands folded together.

That was delicious food Y/N thank you. It's nice to have company I really don't reach out based on the face I always have because many people would bring me down or were just not interested and I've been alone for years and I got around with life. Francis pointed out as he took more chugs on his beer the way to cope from his job. You honestly felt bad for him and wish you were there from the beginning but now could be your chance.

You have me Francis, I know it's hard being on your own and talking others but you can trust me, I'll be here with you every step you said putting your hand into his palm causing Francis to blush a little from the response he put his hat tipping so you wouldn't see his flushed reaction which made you giggle because it was cute.

Y/N… Franics said as he held out your hand giving it a small kiss as a sweet gesture making your heart skip a beat from the affection this milkman gave you.

Oh I didn't see your bedroom yet, you went to open the door but Franics immediately jumped out of his seat and grabbed your arm telling you not to go in there but you did and he had a plan yet king size bed, clock on a wall, his usual uniforms on the floor, vinyl records then you noticed jars of milk as you went to examine that's when Franics open up to you more than you think

Wow I didn't know you like to keep milk in your room, I wouldn't mind I am kind of thirsty you said but Francis slaps the jug out of your hand causing you a red mark on your skin.

Don't! Francis said as you were rubbing the mark he gave you demanding a explanation.

Oww… what's wrong with you! You yelled hurt from his actions but it changes when he explains himself

That's not my milk ma'am…Francis said turning the other way as you were confused then took a moment to realize that was his semen in those jugs in his room. You look back turning red from embarrassment yet you felt your cross your legs because a hint of arousal building up your body.

Do.d..d..do you get those urges? You ask trying to reason with him.

Sometimes… Francis said

Oh we all have the urge and there's no shame, we have to put our mind and work to rest and focus on some pleasure in our life you explained. You said you were feeling the heat because of Francis.

You and Francis gaze at each other for a while until you two then press lips together for a kiss. Francis went first the kiss was filled with passion and some lust in between. Wrapping each other's arms together as you kissed a little faster with Francis causing you to breath quite heavy.

( Huff… Huff… Huff…) Y/N I need you, can't take anymore with these jugs of pleasure myself .

Huff Francis… I..I ahhh!

I'm going to make you squirm and have you more ~ I'll be the top and you'll be the bottom following my word. Francis said, placing his finger upon your lip rubbing, making you clutched on his white uniform.

Yes… you said with your face flushed and breathing heavy.

You felt Francis suck on your neck with his hands pulling up your dress with a shiver in between it's been a long time you had pleasure like this. A few drapes and tongue your fingers dangles between his milkman uniform undoing his buttons one by one as he leaves a few marks around you and pulling off your dress top exposed nipples he smirk with a tug and pull made your squirm .

Haaa~ Ahhhh~ Francis sensitive..ahh.. you said as Francis placed his mouth on your breasts sucking them dry like a cow aching for milk. Francis then in between took the buckle out of his pants pulling out his cock that was aching with his cream already dripping down his pants he was that desperate for some attention and a pussy to be filled inside.

Y/N fuck… you're the reason why I have this side I don't show to others ha…ahh~ Francis as he continue to kiss you with his slip in between causing you two have salvia drip down at the end of your lips. He then toss his hat aside revealing his messy brown hair with your hands feeling his scalped and how soft his hair was as he then proceed to undo his tie opening part of his tighten broad chest making your legs shake in between with the slide of his fingers slipping your panties to the side spreading you wide open as he look back at you.

Francis ha…please put it in you pleaded with your hands now onto his shoulders he listens to your sweet sounds as he presses the cock inside your pink bulb causing you gasps .

Shh~ Shh~ Relax I'll go slow ~ Francis replied as he brushed his fingers dangled to your hair as he started to thrust feeling the slaps of both of your bodies he made a groan fucking you nicely as you rolled your eyes back body leaning down as you moan out Francis many times.

Ahh..haaa..Francis..haaa.. yes.. yes.. Francis…oh! You said as he kept fucking you in front as he placed you more onto the sheets and he leaned in kissing you upon the lips quite sloppy as the two of you hold onto each other with the cum stains on the bed. You wanted Francis and he really wanted you.

You could milk me anytime darling fuck~ Francis replied when he went faster since he was closed. He then proceeded to grab a jug as your leg wrapped around his waist, not letting go seeing his cock thrusting more up and down. He probably wanted to store his semen of having sex for someone beautiful as yourself.

I'm close fuck.. I'm cumming…I'm cumming I'm fuck… Francis said as you moan more out as his hand was on the wall to keep it together as he finally released his load and half he place his cun in the jug groaning in between as he held onto you.

I guess you could call that your secret stash of milk you said while exhaling after he came hard and loaded. You look down to see your pussy dripping from cum as well with your hair a mess as Francis chuckles in between and laid next to you on the bed. The two held onto each other.

That was incredible Y/N~ we should do more of this often Francis replied his finger onto your button nose as you look back laying your head against his chest resting your eyes

Francis...

Mmm?

I love you… you replied as you drift off to sleep while Francis kissed your cheek and held onto your hand and he then smile looking at you tired and filled with bliss.

I love you too~ Francis said back as he drifted his eyes holding you close bundling up to stay warm a new begin starts with you and your local milkman ~

End~

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