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bratshaws · 2 years

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goodness gracious 13. brb x oc

a/n: ngl this chapter made tear up just the tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiniest bit :,) also! Ref pics of the clothes because idk if i managed to explain them correctly???

Bea's bikini

Rooster's shirt (in my mind the flowers are a deeper red but it is p much like this )

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: suggestive content, Bradley being a sweetheart (and still horny),Bea learning how to be bolder

chapters:

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11/12

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!)

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

“You want me to go where, with you?”

Shells blinked, holding up the pamphlet, the pink paper with the words ‘Pole dancing class�� written in purple, “It’s free to go during the weekends.” Bea’s green eyes turned to the drawn figure of the pole dancer with her legs open wide while holding herself up. She honestly wasn’t expecting to see Shells so early in the morning, already in workout gear with her blonde hair pulled up.

Beatrice rubbed her tired eyes, trying to wipe the sleep away, “But–” she looked at her phone, “It’s eight in the morning.” and she planned to wake up a bit later today.

“Yeah! Her class starts at nine and if we go fast we’ll be able to get the last spots.” Shells grins, but her friend is still confused “Bea, come on! It’s fun! If we get the spots we’ll save up for the next classes!”

“The next classes?”

“Yep! Come first, get it first, that’s the deal.” the blonde explains, “Now change so we can go!” she turned Beatrice around, pushing her inside her house and kicking the door with her foot. Jolene greeted Shells with jumps on her leg, before following the two women up the stairs. Beatrice was still waking up, holding up the piece of paper to read it better as Shells rummaged through her clothes.

“Where did you get this?”

“The lady who teaches, her husband is a regular.” she explains, to which Bea gives her a confused look, “Short stocky guy, has a funny laugh and tips well.” it takes a minute but Beatrice’s face relaxes as she remembered, “He gave some of these to me in hopes I could find anyone in the bar who’d be interested.”

“Oh.” she flips the pamphlet to see if there’s any other information, only to find it blank. She dropped her hands to her lap, yawning quietly as Shells placed the outfit on the bed, “Hm…okay…do I think I should tell Roos?How long do you think we’ll be there?”

“From what I’ve seen her classes don’t last too long, two hours tops. So we’d be out of there at eleven.”

“Oh, okay, good.” she smiles, “We’re having lunch together today.” Beatrice rolled her eyes at Shells teasing ‘wooo’, standing up to grab the lycra pants from her friend��s grasp, then the sports bra and fresh underwear. She changed quickly once she got in the bathroom, slipping on her sneakers and pulling her hair in a ponytail, while Shells’ leg bounced impatiently on the top of the stairs.

“Finally!” the blonde said, grabbing her friend by the wrist, “I just checked her profile, there are only two spots left, we have to go now.” Beatrice lets out a shout of surprise when Shells takes her down the stairs to the front door, bouncing on the spot as Bea locks it, then leading her to her own car. Bea complained about using her Subaru, but Shells shook her head, “No way we are using that fossil, we need to be quick!”

Beatrice frowns a bit but enters the silver Buick once Shells does the same, widening her eyes when the blonde steps on it, the tires screeching on the asphalt, “Shells!”

“We’ll be fine!” she smiles, tossing a look to her friend’s shocked face, “Just gotta be there before the others!” Beatrice only nodded mutely, clenching the seatbelt in hopes she could stabilize herself with Shells’ driving. She was always a fast driver, but this was a whole other level compared to the times she took her to work.

She didn’t even see much of the outside considering how blurry it had become, like a big kaleidoscope in real life. Beatrice’s body jolted forward a bit when Shells parked the car, she blinked while touching her arms, face and legs…okay she was still alive. “Come on!” Shells shouted, walking out of the car only for Bea to hurriedly to the same. Her friend suddenly grabbed her hand with force, speeding up her step.

Right on the opposite side of the sidewalk, were two other women who looked up the moment Shells parked and immediately hurried their steps towards the building they were all going into. Beatrice could hear Shells muttering curses as she practically dragged the brunette inside, “My name is Michelle Regina Benjamin! I was born on March 20th, 1995.” The woman writing down the names for today’s class jumped in surprise, Shells was looking down at her intensely.

The poor lady looked up at Beatrice, who smiled apologetically, “I-I’m Beatrice Schiavoni, S-c-h-i-a-v-o-n-i. I was born February 12th, 1993.`` She wrote both of their names, congratulating them on taking over the last two spots for the weekend, which made the blonde shout in triumph with her fists up in the air. Both Beatrice and the woman looked at her weirdly, with Bea awkwardly laughing and thanking the lady for her time.

“We fucking did it!” Shells fist pumped yet again, this time walking up a set of stairs with Bea next to her. There was music being played above their heads, which meant the studio was up the stairs.

“While I guess pole dancing is fun, did you have to be so…intense?”

Shells smirked, “Well, that’s because I saw her favored playlist and–” she pulls out her phone, opening the photo app, “Look!! Look!” The first name on the screenshot was no one other than Kylie Minogue, Shells favorite artist. Well, favoritism would be a light usage: Shells would talk about Kylie Minogue as if she was the most important deity in the whole world right now, no one would compare to what Miss Minogue was. Not to Shells at least.

“...ah, I see.” Bea nodded, the music getting louder as they reached the top steps.

“You know that if it has my Lord and Savior Kylie Minogue, I’m in…plus I’ve always wanted to do pole dance.” she hugs Beatrice to her side “aaaaand I’d have my best friend with me! So this will be very fun!”

They stop by a black door where they could hear the music pumping from the inside, Shells opening it up just enough to peek inside then nod towards Bea. It was a huge space with large windows that exposed the San Diego horizon, there was a radio on the corner of the room that vibrated with music, while in the center were eleven poles - two rows of five and one lonely pole in the front of them all - with enough space to be used by the group of people chilling about.

There were different body types and genders in the room, all of them wearing comfortable clothing for working out, some of them looked nervous just like she felt. Shells stood by Bea’s side while leaning on the wall opposite to the windows, waiting for the instructor to come inside.

It took a few minutes, but the lady finally stepped in. Bea and Shells were closer to the door so they saw the woman come in first. She was statuesque, tall and toned with long legs,her skin was tanned from being in the sun and her long black hair was up in a high ponytail. Bea and Shells looked mesmerized at the instructor, who smiled when turning to face them, “Hi! So good to see you girls here!” she dropped her pink duffel bag to the tiled floor, stepping to the middle of the room and clapping her hands once to call everyone’s attention.

Her name was Tiffany, but she wanted to be called Tiff for the time being of her class. She asked everyone’s names with a kind smile, then told them all to separate in duos, which Shells and Bea already were, then choose a pole to stand close by. She waited until everyone was settled, telling them to remove their shoes before stretching along with her.

Since Bea did yoga, some of the stretches were easy enough to do. She sent a quick look to Shells who winced while leaning forward to touch her toes, “You okay?”

“Oof, yeah.” the blonde grimaces, her face souring up “Just…my back feels tight.”

“Because you don’t stretch,” Bea says with a smile, giggling when Shells sends a glare her way, “I always tell you to.”

“Oh shush.” Then a quiet ‘ow’ follows soon after, with the blonde still grimacing when the stretching session is over. Tiff tells them to first and foremost clean their pole with the microfiber rag and alcohol solution she had separated for all of them in the back of the room, expressing that it has to be a sleek surface so their hands can hold without slipping.

When they patted the chalk on their hands, that’s when it began. Tiff said she’d start small since they were all beginners, going for a back arch then a back bend,reminding them all that they could make it sensual even the simplest of movements. It wasn’t bad, it was actually very fun, especially when they started climbing up the pole.

It was their first class so everyone was a bit nervous or stiff when it comes to what to do, but Beatrice couldn’t help but smile when she managed to do a carousel spin - a bit slow but she did it! - making sure to follow Tiff’s directions when it comes to be more sensual, tossing her hair back or bending her back in a certain way.

She’d never…managed to be sensual like Tiff said, but she couldn’t lie she felt really good doing so. This was very fun, more than she thought it’d be. By the time the class was over, she was sweaty and breathing heavily, but she didn’t think she would’ve liked it so much.She turned over to Shells who was leaning her butt against the wall while her hands were on top of her knees, supporting her upper body “That was fun!” the blonde nodded, chugging half of her water bottle, “We should definitely do it again.”

“Sure.” Shells says, swallowing her water down harshly, “Why not?” Funnily enough the blonde didn’t seem as excited as the brunette was.

Beatrice walked up to Tiff who was fixing up her things for her next class, “Um, excuse me.” Tiff looked over her shoulder to Bea then smiled, “Do you only do classes on the weekends…or?”

“Saturday are free classes, my classes go from Tuesday to Friday,the same time as right now, if you are interested.”

“Well I,” she looked back at Shells who still looked way out of breath, but who pushed herself off the wall to walk closer, placing her hands on her hips, “I’m interested! Shells too right?” the less than attentive ‘yup’ didn’t falter Bea’s enthusiasm.

“Well, I’m so glad!” Tiff smiled, “Kendra can help you guys downstairs if you guys want to be part of the weekly class.” She thanked the two girls again before they went down the staircase, back to the jumpy woman from the beginning - Kendra - to set everything right for their classes.

Now that the worst had passed, Shells seemed just as thrilled as Bea was while giving Kendra the rest of the information needed to make them actively part of the class. Bea’s phone pinged just as Shells was talking to Kendra, so she pulled it out of her lycra pants pockets already knowing who it was.

Roos’ (11:01)

Hey pretty girl. Still up for our lunch?

Bea (11:15)

Yeah! Of course! Sorry for the late reply :<

Roos’ (11:16)

Don’t worry gorgeous, do you want me to pick you up?

Bea (11:17)

Yes, please :3. I’ll just take a shower and I’ll call you, okay?

Roos’ (11:17)

Sounds like a plan ;) see you in a few then.

Beatrice bit her lower lip with a smile, before sliding the phone back inside her pocket. They thanked Kendra before walking out of the building, the sweat was now cooling down their skin thanks to the lack of movement and the wind outside, “That was so fun!” Bea smiles as the two march to Shells’ car, hearing the blonde unlock it by pressing the button on her key.

“It was very fun, I’m so happy you liked Bumblebea!” Shells said, while playfully jabbing her friend’s arm “Maybe you can use some moves on our resident Chanticleer, huh?”

“Wha– Shells!!” she shoved her friend’s shoulder while her cheeks heated up to the point of combustion, but the blonde just cackled in delight, “Don’t say things like that!”

“Whaat? It’s not like guys didn’t do anything yet, right?” she asks, still chuckling but her chuckles diminished when Bea remained silent, looking at her hands, “Right?”

“I-I…well…” Bea just wrung her hands together, feeling herself being analyzed by her friend’s gaze, “It’s just– It’s been a while for me.”

“Girl!” she slaps her hand on the Buick’s roof, the tang sound of the impact making Bea jump in surprise “How the hell are you not banging that man like a door in a hurricane!?” a few passersby looked their way since Shells’ intonation was less than quiet and no matter how much Beatrice tried to shush her, her friend was relentless, “Climbing that tree like a spider monkey? You couldn’t have pined after him for so long just to not rip his clothes off where he stood!”

“Shells!! Sssh!”

“I’m sorry! I’m very shocked!” she threw her arms up in the air, “Listen, as much as I loathe to say this, my aunt and Mav got it on really quickly.” she grimaces, “Too quickly, don’t ask me how I know.” One of the less known bonuses of babysitting your little cousin was knowing things she never once desired to know and now she does. Unfortunately.

“I…I just feel, I dunno,” Shells arches her eyebrows, watching as Bea stood beside her against the car, “I mean, seeing me clothed is one thing…but-”

“Okay, alright, shush,” she smushed her index finger against Bea’s lips, pressing them down “Ssh shh shush! No more of this. You’ve seen how that man looks at you. Do you really think he wouldn’t be into your body even more?” Bea opened her mouth only for Shells to cup her cheeks and squeeze them, puckering her lips comically, “Nope! No talk back from that, ma’am.”

‘Fut fwhat if yur wrung?”

“I’m not wrong.” she grins, letting go of her friends cheeks, booping the tip of Bea’s nose with a manicured finger, “I mean,” she gestures to Bea’s body, “God made you blessed with all that ass and you think Rooster wouldn’t care about it? Really? Babes, you need to come back to the present and stop worrying!”

Beatrice still had a hard time swallowing the information that there was a possibility the two of them would eventually go to the next base, which she’d love to, a whole lot. She just had to…plan everything, yes, planning would work a lot better in her favor. Then check if he’d want to, which all the signs point to yes but she had to make sure.

“I suggest,” Shells says once they enter the car, “You don’t tell him about the pole dancing class. Just say it’s normal dancing, then you can surprise him.” her blonde eyebrows waggle teasingly and while Bea’s face turns red, she doesn’t scoff or tosses the idea away.

She just keeps it inside her brain with a little smile.

“You never told me what you were doing before I messaged you.” Bradley says casually, watching Bea take a sip of her mango juice through her metal straw, her big eyes blinking at him over the glass’ rim.

Once she swallows it, she licks her red stained lips clean of any drops, “Oh, um,” she taps a napkin over her mouth, “Me and Shells joined a dance class.” he lifts his eyebrows up to his hairline, taking a sip of his own drink, “Yes, it’s very fun.”

“Is it? Tell me about it.”

Tell him about it…okay. She could do that while hiding what it is. “Oh! Uh, it’s just…just casual dancing!” she flaps her hand as if to play it off, “You know, it has… jazz and zumba and yeah. Those things.”

Bradley’s eyes narrow comically, as if he’s trying to see through her and Beatrice swallows nervously, taking a sushi roll into her mouth in hopes it’d stop her from blurting it out to him. He then chuckles, going back to his own plate, “Well, alright. Maybe you can show me what you’ve been learning, when you can.” She looks like a chipmunk with her cheeks stuffed with rice and fish, jaws moving in hopes she could swallow it faster but she nods almost unnoticeably.

She offers him a small smile as the food drops down,finally “Of course, I’m still new to it but I think I’ll get the hang of it soon enough. So I can,” she inhales quietly, “Show you.” She couldn’t help but imagine Shells cheering for her in the distance, going full middle school soccer coach behind her back, pointing her fingers at her in triumph calling her a champ.

“I’ll look forward to it then.” he smiles, almost as if he knows something is off but doesn’t think it’s that worrying to prod about it yet. “I hope you don’t mind we came here to have lunch, by the way. I really like this Sushi place.”

Being inside a mall wasn’t a problem to her, considering she’d come by herself wherever time allowed. This was one of the few Sushi places where the food was good, fresh and had a nice atmosphere. Bradley also suggested they take their time just wandering about window shopping if she wished to “I don’t mind! I like it here. It doesn’t even seem we are inside a mall in the first place.”

Which was true since the restaurant was on the second floor of the mall, where all the fancy places stood, above the traditional food court. Something private yet comfortable for young couples such as themselves. With every booth being separated by Japanese styled dividers, each one had a private window that overlooked the outside.

“By the way,” he begins, “Did I already compliment you today?”

Beatrice laughed softly, gathering some of her hair to put behind her ear, “Well, you did say you thought I looked stunning.” she begins, “Like I just jumped out of a fairy tale book.”

Which, considering she was wearing a white ruffled top with short sleeves, tiny flowers sewn onto the fabric with light pink colored pants and white converse, he wouldn’t be wrong. He smirks at her, leaning on his hand, “Well, you do look like a modern fairy most of the time already.” she smiles at him with her cheeks turning red, “But you are gorgeous, you could literally wear a potato sack, you'd still be the prettiest woman around here.”

“Oh my God, stop.” she giggles bringing the metal straw to her lips, but not drinking it yet, just holding against her lips. His dark gaze flicked from her eyes to her mouth, watching her lips wrap around the straw with raw interest. He ran his hand over the lower part of his face, chuckling quietly then shaking his head with the grin still present, leaning back on his booth. “You keep being a sweet talker.”

“Well, you keep being sweet.” he coos back, smiling even wider when her cheeks turn darker, “I love it when you blush. The first time I saw it I just couldn’t get it out of my head.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh,yeah.” he crosses his arms over his chest, Bea’s eyes moving to his curled biceps immediately, “I have never seen someone really blush, I mean, where I can see your cheeks turning red.” not only her cheeks, now that he paid attention. With the collar being so low on her blouse, he could see some red spreading over her cleavage “So I was just mesmerized when I saw it the first time.”

She looked down at her drink, then back at him, “Mesmerized?” she repeated quietly, still smiling.

“Yep.” he chuckles, his mustache curling over his lips “Didn’t help that you are beautiful too. Shells never gave me much information about you besides your name, I guess she wanted me to go to you first.”

“Sounds like her.” she begins, putting her glass down “Considering she pestered me about going to you too.”

“Oh? Do tell.” she made a face, using her chopsticks to spread some wasabi on her hosomaki before plopping it inside her mouth instead of answering, “Oh, come on. I’m your pilot aren’t I? Can’t I know some girl secrets?”

She almost choked when he called himself her pilot, still getting used to it, but she managed to chew it before she could make a scene in the restaurant, “She pestered me about it every time you showed up,” he ‘hmhmed’ “She even suggested she went with me so she’d get something out of Bob too, but you know I never did. Then you came up to talk to me and well– here we are now.”

“Here we are now.” he looks down at his plate with a grin, “What do you say we finish it up and walk around?”

They finished their lunch without much hurry, walking out of the restaurant just to wander about the mall, keeping her close to him at all times, walking a bit ahead of her so he could shield her from any distracted mallgoer. Everyone who looked up at him either quickly stepped back or sped up their walking, giving the two of them enough space to walk around.

The mustache and sunglasses sure held a lot more power for those who wield them.

Plus being tall helped.

“Ohh, Roos, look!” she tugged him to the left, where a group of mannequins wore different colored Hawaiian shirts, “I like the red one for you.” she mentioned, pointing to the one with the red hibiscus flowers and the dark blue background. He couldn’t help but chuckle, remembering her instagram profile picture with the Hibiscus behind her ear.

“It is pretty nice.”

“Do you want to go inside and try it on?” she questioned, swinging his arm a bit, “I don’t think you have enough Hawaiian shirts.”

He looks down at her through the lens of his sunglasses, seeing her little smile only widen, “You think you are hilarious, don’t you?” she shrugs innocently, still holding his hand, “Well, pretty girl you wouldn’t be wrong. There’s never enough shirts for me.” not to mention he’d gladly wear it since it reminded him of her.

She leads the two inside, talking to one of the vendors after asking his size. Then it hits both of them this would probably be the very first gift she’d give him if she considered the Xenomorph plush his very own gift.

She has the hibiscus shirt on the crook of her arm as she leads him to the changing rooms. The store was very beach themed, with light blues and beiges, there was even a large palm tree lamp above the changing rooms where each leaf illuminated an area. “Here,” she smiles, handing him the shirt, “Try it on and see if it looks good.”

“I won’t take long,” he says, leaning down to peck her lips, “Promise.”

“I’ll be waiting here.” she says against his lips, giggling when he kisses her one last time before closing the door. She looks around a bit, with her hands interlaced before her eyes stop on a rack full of plus sized bikinis. Beatrice blinks, looking at the closed door then to the swimwear, deciding she could take a quick peek before he came out.

She ran her fingers through the bikinis, parting her lips when she saw one with deep green palm leaves on the top and bottom, the halter top seemed to be big enough for her chest but the bottom part was just a normal bikini, as in it wasn’t high waisted and it stopped right below her hip bones.

Bea however, loved it. It was very different from what she was used to wearing while on the beach, but she felt…adventurous. Maybe the thing was that the pole dancing class made her feel a lot more confident than she remembered, looking behind the green leaf bikini to check the others, seeing a lilac one and a black one with tied on bottoms. She bit her lower lip, looking over her shoulder to see the door still closed, only to keep on looking.

“What are you looking at?” the voice in her ear whispered rapidly and she jumped, falling back onto a firm chest, a chest that moved with laughter, a pair of arms wrapping around her waist.

“Oh my God, don’t-” she playfully swatted his arm “Don’t do that!”

“I went out looking for a second opinion and you were too busy checking something else,” he pouts his lower lip, pressing a kiss to her cheek, “Hurt my feelings, pretty girl. What are you looking at, anyway?”

Beatrice’s eyes widened and she pushed the rack of bikinis farther from them, panicked “Nothing!” she said quickly, maybe she wasn’t feeling that confident yet. When she turned around, he was wearing the hibiscus shirt, buttoned just up to the middle of his chest, “Ohhh, it looks so good.” she leans up to fix the collar, smoothing her hands over the fabric, “I love it.”

“Me too,” he says, looking back to where the other vendors were, too busy to pay attention to the two of them, then tugs her closer, pressing their foreheads together “Now answer me what you were looking at, because you seemed very interested.”

She blushed, looking away from him, “It’s nothing.” she murmured, then sighed when he didn’t seem to budge, “Just…swimwear I guess.”

“Swimwear?”

“Yeah, I thought some looked cute.” she shrugs, playing with the buttons of his shirt.

“Show me?”

She bit the corner of her mouth, hesitated but then turned her body towards the bikini rack, trying to find the one she liked again and then pulled out for him to see. She didn’t hold it in front of her body, instead she held it beside her. Beatrice looked up at Bradley to see him with his hands on his hips, his sunglasses up to his hair and eyebrows up. His lips pursed when he breathed shakily, with his gaze locked on the palm tree bikini.

“Brad?” she questioned, “What’s wrong?”

“That is uh…that’s,” he gestured to the bikini, “That’s very nice. You should definitely get it.”

“You think so? I didn’t even check the price–”

“I’ll get it for you,” he said quickly, “I’ll get it, don’t worry. You got me the shirt and I got–” he clears his throat, his mouth feels incredibly dry, “You got a cute bikini. Matter of fact, why don’t you take these to the cashier,” he hurriedly removes the shirt, folding it and handing it to her alongside the bikini, “I’ll, uh, meet you there in a few.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, but leaned up to kiss his lips before he disappeared from her view. “...okay?” on the way over to the cashier, she couldn’t help but wonder what brought on that weird attitude over him. Standing on the line, she looked down at her bikini for a second, before Shells’ words appeared back in her mind:

You’ve seen how that man looks at you. Do you really think he wouldn’t be into your body even more?

Her lips parted in a pleased little gasp, only to roll them into her mouth to hold back her smile, looking at the new swimwear in her arms with his Hawaiian shirt underneath it and she couldn’t help but feel like she was stepping on clouds. His large hand suddenly appeared on her back as he returned, pushing her forward so they could pay, separately, for each article of clothing.

Once out of the store, she couldn’t help the little grin over her lips, squeezing his hand almost without thinking, her thumb rubbing the side of his palm repeatedly. She was so happy she couldn’t help herself, looking back and forth on the mall’s hallway, she tugged him to the side, “What?” he questioned, just following her as she took the two to where the artificial plants decorated a corner, “What’s wrong?”

Beatrice waited until they were partially hidden from the rest of the crowd to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him. He hummed out in surprise but quickly kissed back, wrapping his arms around her waist, thankful of how no one seemed to notice the two of them there. He groaned when one of her hands went up to his hair, nails dragging up his scalp, a stuttery ‘fuck’ leaving his lips into her mouth as she laughed.

He stepped forward until her back touched a wall, his teeth biting on her lower lip,being followed by his tongue, begging her to open it. She does and he downright growls when it happens, his large hands slide down her back to cup her ass through her jeans, pressing her pelvis against his as they make out in the darkened corner of a crowded mall, hidden by a small artificial palm tree.

When she playfully bites his own lower lip, it takes all the power in him to control himself, breaking the kiss to drag his mouth down her cheek then down her jawline. She sucks in a breath, feeling his teeth pinch just where her tendon began, the wet of his tongue sending shivers up and down her spine. Bea mewls quietly, his teeth finding the weak spot by sucking onto it hard, not even caring if it marked in fact she was more than happy it did.

Her hand returned to the back of his head and she could feel his whole body shuddering when she wrapped her fingers around the sandy waves, his hold on her tightened even more.

Oh, did Bradley have some sort of weakness when it comes to his hair? She couldn’t help but smile at the new information.

He pressed his crotch to hers before stopping, stopping everything, to drop his forehead to the curve of her shoulder, “Jesus Christ.” he mutters, out of breath, “Gorgeous we got to stop or else I won’t be able to keep things decent.” but his lips returned to her neck, pressing a trail of kisses until he reached her lips again, humming against the cherry flavored lip balm, “I don’t know what happened, but shit, you won’t see me complaining. Was it the shirt?”

But Bea’s smile only softened, cupping his cheeks with her hands. You want to see me, all of me, you aren’t upset thinking about my body, you want me, you really want me, she thought but only chose to say, “I just felt like kissing you.”

Bradley’s sunglasses are a bit crooked, so she fixes them for him, while he chuckles softly, “Well, hey, don’t mind doing this more often, I like this side of you.” she rolls her lower lip into her mouth the moment he says it, “Babe I’ll have to kiss you again if you keep this up.”

“You won’t see me complaining.” she whispered just as breathily, tugging him down to press their lips together again before they walked out of their little corner. Bradley took a few seconds to come out, rubbing his hands over his face in hopes to appear presentable before he met her outside.

On her neck stood the brightest,reddest hickey. Which on her pale skin, stood out immensely. But she couldn’t bring herself to care, at best she’d use her hair to cover it. Each of them held their own bags, grinning like two adolescents who did something under an adult’s nose and no one would find out.

That is until they both hear a high pitched noise that stood out from the usual crowd chatter, “Did you hear that?” Bradley comments, looking around, only to hear the sound getting louder.

“I do…it seems…familiar?” it gets louder, closer, way closer, until there's a sudden impact on the back of Bea’s legs. She yelps in surprise, looking back down at her legs to see a known blonde haired little girl smiling up at her while hugging her jeans clad leg.

“Hi auntie! Hi Prince Rooster!”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader

214 notes · View notes

thatsdemko · 1 year

Text

red card - b.pavard

masterlist

requested: y

pairing: Benjamin pavard x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw + not intended for minors + mentions of oral + mentions of nudity

a/n: I was only given that the reader is comforting him but nobody said how ;) + calling him Ben because Benjamin is a lot to write each time 😅

《 the following content is not intended for minors. 》

you didn’t need to know much about football to know a red card meant ejection, and it also meant he had to miss the next game.

you’re not sure how it all started out, but Ben was going ballistic over a stupid call and got himself a yellow card early on in the game. you could practically hear him swearing at the refs from the pitch. his teammates telling him to just let it go, but knowing ben he couldn’t. it was going to upset him the whole game.

Bayern münchen was down by one goal in the second half, and were in desperate need to even the game, but that’s when ben tripped another player on accident, and the player was down for more than two minutes causing the EMT to bring out the stretcher, and ultimately that was what got ben his ejection.

you watched him plop down on the bench next to his teammates still screaming about the call and how it was “unfair” and you’d have to hear about it all rest of the evening. not to mention, you’d have to watch the next game at home with him for his punishment, which was sometimes even worse than receiving the red card.

you got up from the stands deciding you couldn’t stay any longer and watch his tantrum. it was almost embarrassing, to sit around the other wives and girlfriends knowing your boyfriend couldn’t handle or control his emotions. not a single one of them bided you a farewell because their eyes were glued to the disaster, your boyfriend, in front of them.

you rushed home to catch the rest of the match on your television knowing the commentators were having a field day with Ben, and rightfully so, he was feeding into the energy. your eyes could hardly move from the screen that you had no idea when the game was over. the camera moved in on Ben, as you watched his eyes search for you in the crowd. you knew going home early was another thing he’d complain to you about.

sighing, you decided to get ready for Ben’s arrival home. if you knew anything about him, there was only a couple of things that could get him to shut up about his frustration and let you take over. so with that in mind, you grabbed the lacy set you saved for an occasion like this throwing it on underneath your clothes, and getting into bed to try to occupy the time before he came home.

it wasn’t long until he was home. the door slammed shut behind him and you could hear him drop his bags at the front door. he moved throughout every room to try and find you. he really needed someone to help calm him down, and there was no better than you. you were always able to help clear his mind and let go of the things that were not making him happy, so when he finally found you in bed with nothing on it took him for a surprise.

“what did I do to deserve this?” the tension in his shoulders released as he dropped them, finally feeling able to relax at the sight of you. he crawled onto the bed and right into your chest where you happily wrapped your arms around him.

“I just want to make you feel better, baby, that’s all.” you pressed a kiss to his temple running your hands up and down his chest, pulling the material of his shirt until it was over his head and tossed to the side.

“well I’m all yours.” he sat up, allowing you position yourself on top of him, before he laid back down against the mattress watching you take off his sweatpants. your finger tips ran up and down his bulge earning a sweet moan from him.

your fingers pulled the band of his underwear down revealing his big cock to you. smirking to yourself, you took the tip in your mouth earning a gasp to escape his lips. the act caught him by surprise. of all the times you’ve ever had sex, you never wanted to try oral, and with this being your first time you were a natural to him.

you swirled your tongue over his cock feeling him stiffen underneath you, his breath hitched at every flick he could barely take it. he naturally felt his hands begin to dig into your skull at each movement your tongue made.

“I’m right there.” you heard him breath out, and just as his sentence hit the air, your mouth was met with his cum, you heard him let out a sigh of pleasure while his body began to relax.

“feel better?” you asked sitting on one of his thighs, his hands gripping pink lacy material at your hips. he was taking mental pictures of you on his thigh sitting there all pretty, batting your eyelash and flipping your hair from side to side.

he pulled you into his bare chest pressing a kiss to your hair, “much better, amour.”

“no more getting red cards please.”

#football imagines #football imagine #football #football fic #football blurb #football oneshot #football drabble #bayern munich #bayern munchen #fc bayer munich #benjamin pavard x reader #benjamin pavard oneshot #benjamin pavard #benjamin pavard blurb #benjamin pavard imagine #imagines

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whumpy-daydreams · 6 months

Text

Another Beginning

Masterlist

Previous Next

CW: scars, ref to past abuse

Rowena had spent over two weeks in hospital before being discharged. Talking was still hard, she rarely said more than a few words at once, thought the psychologist said it was good progress.

Emma had visited a couple more times, usually bringing hot chocolate or sweets. She'd told Rowena where she was staying - an assisted living complex - along with most of the other captives from the facility.

She supposed it didn't sound awful. A social worker had visited as well, explaining it in more... professional language. She'd brought clothes along too. Nothing fancy: a pair of navy sweatpants, a white t-shirt, and a thick cardigan that must have belonged to someone's grandma. Still, it was nice to be out of a hospital gown.

Emma came with her when it was finally time to leave, holding her hand in the backseat of the car, and half dragging her up to the large flat.

It looked like the student accommodations Rowena had spent hours pouring over as a teenager, dreaming about going to university in an alternative life. Finally got my wish. It had only taken a year of torture to get there.

Her bedroom was small and impersonal, but strangely cosy. There were a few things already there; essentials like bedding and toothpaste and underwear, but otherwise it was bare.

The kitchen was attached to a small living area, where a couple of people were sat. Rowena vaguely recognised them, and judging by their slightly shocked faces they remembered her too.

"And here are your keys." The social worker finished saying, having given Rowena a brief explanation of the rules (no smoking, keep the noise down after 11pm, keep the kitchen clean). "I'll let you get settled, I'm sure Emma can answer any questions you have."

The first thing Rowena wanted was a long hot shower. She'd washed in hospital, of course, but the water barely got above lukewarm and there was a knock on the door every five minutes.

The water stung slightly as it poured over partially healed wounds. Rowena washed efficiently, trying not to look too much at her body, fingers carefully pulling apart the knots in her too-long hair. Only when all the shampoo was rinsed out did she sink to the floor.

Rowena cried. Water pooled slightly on the shower floor, slightly pink from a reopened wound. Through the door she could see the piles of dressings she'd taken off - reams of bandages and plasters that she'd have to reapply. Free. She was finally free. Free of Rudy, of Marcus, of killing and being experimented on.

She dried herself carefully, and dared a look in the mirror. Her face was gaunt, no colour on her usually freckled cheeks. Even her eyes looked lifeless. And then there were the scars.

Marcus had always been careful to avoid scarring her save for the ones on her back, hiring a skilled healer to fix any wounds without leaving scars. Rudy had had no such qualms. Lines of white and pink littered her body, a pattern of pain she could no longer feel. A long, thin scar down her left cheek made her wince.

Rowena turned away. She dressed the wounds that needed it and got dressed.

Emma was in the room across from her, door plastered in bright posters and animal stickers. She beamed.

"Do you have scissors?" Emma didn't reply, heading back into what seemed to be an equally colourfully decorated room. She reappeared with a pair of pink zebra stripe scissors.

"What do you need them for?"

"Can..." Rowena took a deep breath, "can you cut my hair?"

Tag list: @i-eat-worlds

#mortiawrites #whump #hurt/comfort #whumpee

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gabessquishytum · 1 year

Note

Oh gosh, the first link in that last ask was so pretty, and im in full agreement with pretty pussy Hob agenda. maybe hob wants to try his new pretty little pussy in the waking world one time, and so of course dream acquiesces, on one condition.

Hob has to wear the clit jewelry under his clothes all day, he doesn’t get to come, and I don’t think he should get underwear either, because that might mess with the jewelry he’s wearing. He has to go through a whole day of lecturing, where he usually paces back and forth while taking, with that little gem swinging and rubbing against his swollen clit. It’s different from his cock, it’s not so obvious when he’s aroused in this form, but he’s oh so wet and needs to go to the bathroom between classes to wipe the moisture from his labia and thighs. By the end of the day he’s struggling to keep it together, the constant slight stimulation - sending shivers of pleasure through him - have built up, and he’s been driven absolutely insane all day.

He gets home, finally, to find a note from Dream, dictating that Hob is to meet him for dinner at a high end restaurant downtown, and to wear the outfit Dream has lain on the bed, but to keep his jewelry on. With the outfit on the bed are these absolutely gorgeous pieces of nipple jewelry

https://www.etsy.com/listing/711906231/non-piercing-nipple-jewelry-with-pendant?click_key=4b8eadd066de486da0a7911a64a6aa7a9cd3c8b5%3A711906231&click_sum=f51fedc4&ref=shop_home_active_39&frs=1&crt=1

Hob spends an agonizing hour and a half trying not to squirm out of his seat in front of all the wealthy patrons of the restaurant while Dream looks on with a 1789 esque “I want to eat you alive” gaze.

needless to say Dream whisks them away at some point to absolutely fuck the daylights out of hob

-I’ll be 💍anon (if that isn’t already taken)

I am. Obsessed. OBSESSED!! with pretty pussy hob and ALSO that nipple jewellery!! Hoooly shit. Yum.

Hob would be so horny about the whole pussy in the waking world experience. And it's ideal, because nobody knows!! He can do his lectures and walk around town with these little shivers of pleasure running through his body. Yeah, he's a little distracted... but he's having a great time. He enjoys the fact that he has to go and mop up his mess from his underwear every hour or two. He's horny about his own horniness! And the whole time, Dream is snooping on Hob’s daydreams and thoroughly enjoying himself and plotting how he's going to absolutely humiliate his beloved about what a slut he is.

And of course he makes Hob sit through a three course meal, with his clit being stimulated every time he moves in his chair, and his pert little nipples rubbing against his pretty new shirt. Hob feels like he's totally being judged by everyone there, but it’s totally his imagination and it's only Dream who knows how hot and squirmy he is.

And Dream decides that he'll only take Hob home and fuck him after he's made himself cum right there in the restaurant in front of all those people. He'll have to squirm and rub his thighs together until he gets himself off. And Dream has all the time in the world to wait for him to do it <3

#💍 anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft

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undercoverpena · 3 years

Text

handling it.

bucky barnes x fem!reader an: FATWS somewhat compliant. somewhat is an optimal word. wc: 3.4k warnings: smut. but there's plot, so that's nice. I’m a bit rusty with smut, so be kind. it’s been a while since I’ve written any.

The moment you spot him, you feel your body flush with heat. Memories swirling the same as the liquor in your stomach. The thrum of the music suddenly hitting your bones, and you're sure, adamant even, that time has slowed. Because it's been a while. You haven't seen him in months, not since Brooklyn. Not since meeting him one evening in a bar and then... history. Fucking history.

History of brick scraping the back of your arms, and losing your underwear in an alleyway; history of sex against the inside of your front door, too desperate to find a bed.

Memories of fingers stroking the stubble of his cheek, of his eyes watching you, breathing heavy due to some nightmare he won’t talk about. He may be wearing a jacket that displays the arm he usually hid. But, you'd recognise the real Bucky Barnes even if he grew a beard and let his hair grow down to his knees. It's the eyes. Those ocean-blue eyes which seem to cut through anything. No one could impersonate them. That's what gives him away. That and the walk. The one you had wondered if it was all in who he was, in the missing memories and the faux strength. But it seems it's just him. It doesn't help that he's digging his eyes into you with the same intensity as you're giving him back.

Fuck. Yeah? You like that, Barnes? Bucky. If I'm fucking you, you call me Bucky. I thought I was fucking you? You talk too much.

You drain your glass, pulling your phone out of your bag as you head towards the bar. If you're going to do this, if you're going to see him and possibly speak, you need more courage.

A lot more courage.

He's glaring. Sat in the corner, alone. Even if he came in with two people.

Even if the two people he came in with were easily recognisable. One being a man you're shocked to find in Madripoor; the other is supposed to be in prison.

Not that you should be here. Not that you had any right to be in a place so lawless.

And, of course he's alone. Brooding in a corner.

You're predictable, Barnes. Am I? Yup. Maybe it's intentional. I don't think so. Maybe you think too much.

His impossible eyes burning into you as you pretend to be interested in whatever the bartender is saying. Your head just nodding, agreeing to whatever you've ordered and more, because you need to find someone, anyone.

Because you can't go near him.

Even if you're being pulled to him. Literally tugged via his eyes, and as much as you're angry, even after the weeks which have passed, you want to.

Fuck you want too.

You want to have those hands on you again, that tongue between...

Draining the glass, the alcohol stings as it descends down your throat. You tap your nail on the bar, throwing back the next glass as you throw a note down.

You've decided. Because you'd be lying if you said you didn't want him. You'd be lying if you didn't want a fight either. Whatever happened, whatever had him beside you one minute and then on the television the next, you didn't care.

Fate was at play, and you weren't one to argue with such a higher power. Not when it presented you with such a gift.

Bucky turns his head the moment he spots you in the seated area, and you let out a laugh at the glare he's shooting you. You think of hitting him, throwing a drink over him. But instead, you think of something more devious, something more fun as you walk up to him, stopping when you're right in front of him.

Just as the bass of the music increases.

You swallow, before sliding your leg over his, fingers sliding the fabric of your dress up your thighs as you sit lower and lower until your full weight is on him. You remember moments like this, where his eyes drank you in, hair longer and jaw tense. Now, he won't even turn his head fully.

His eyes not even moving to side-eye you.

Refusing to turn his head even as you grind down on him.

Fine. What? You act like you’re so alone, but I’m here. And before you say it’s not the same, James. It is. Having someone is still having someone.

Trailing your fingers down your thighs, you turn them until they're sliding over his covered abdomen, feeling him tense. Smirking, you let them trail up him, his hands still unmoving, but his jaw is tensing.

You wonder what he's thinking, whether he's remembering the positions he's had you in before. Whether he's thinking about how he pressed your naked front against the tiled wall in his crappy place.

His hand reaches out, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You're not a bad person. What? Just thought you should know. If that’s why you keep pushing me away. Don’t. You don't look like you hear that all that much. You know, because of the brooding and the staring. You don't know me. Touché. But, I want to. And I think that terrifies you.

You wonder if it was that, the wanting to know him which sent him away. If you wanted too much from him. From a man you discovered was Bucky Barnes rather than outwardly told.

But as he turns his head, his blue eyes set you on fire. And you don't care. You don't. Not even as they light your skin, even if they don't move from your own eyes. You let your lips curl, finding his expression unreadable and stern, just like always.

The song changes. The thrum of it's louder, thrumming through you, and you part your legs a little more purposefully as you hold his glare. Refusing to bend, to break and cower as he releases your wrist.

You move closer, fingers brushing lightly over his cheek as you feel him sigh against your skin.

His gaze softens, and you don't know what to think. Suddenly not so cocky, so confident in what your reasons are for being on top of him.

Swallowing, you lean forward, lips so close to his, seeing, testing the waters. You know him, so you know he won't move to capture them. Bucky never wants to seem desperate, he loves control, and he won't surrender it to anyone.

And then he moves.

Capturing your lips hungrily, almost desperately.

You don't expect it. Your breath quickly being stolen as you scrape nails against his scalp as he pulls you down his thighs to his lap. Metal fingers cool even through the fabric of your dress as he pins you against him.

It's all tongues and hatred; all sloppy and full of need.

There's no apology, no story being told to explain where he's been.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

You chant it like a prayer as you feel his flesh fingers sliding over your thigh, occasionally gripping your skin and you hate how much you want him. How you want his hand to slide to your core, sliding a finger or two under the lace of your underwear. How you want him to fuck you in the corner of this goddamn club because you've missed him and the way he fucked you.

So you pull back.

Breaths ragged, both of you staring, eyes wide.

You get up before he can stop you before you can convince yourself to stay. Wiping your mouth, you walk backwards, narrowing your eyes, hyper-aware neither of you has said a fucking thing to one another before you turn on your heels.

Shoulders meet bodies; elbows digging into passerby's as you become desperate for air. But when it hits your skin, it does nothing. You move to the alleyway, brick against your skin as your lean against it, hoping it'll root you.

Stop you from thinking of the past. Of lazy mornings and sheets tangling around legs as his sweat meets yours.

Pressing the back of your hand to your mouth, you can't slow your heartbeat. Your head still swirls, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

And then you remember your bag.

The one you'd left with him.

"Shit..."

Raking your fingers through your hair, calculating whether you can replace everything easily.

You don't. I don't, what? I'm not worth knowing, alright.

You run your fingers over your lips. It's replaceable. All of it.

Moving from the alleyway as your phone pings, and you smile at the invite you've received.

You've always been a fan of art.

Which is why you went, taking your hat off to Sharon Carters for being able to still host a party after the chaos caused by the three men who didn't belong.

You'd changed from your dress into a matching two-piece as the bullets rained down. By the time your heels hit the cobbles, it had all died down, but the energy in the air had shifted.

An art show where you're sure he's on the lookout for you as much as you are him.

Sliding your phone into your blazer pocket, you nod as you pass unfamiliar faces, taking a glass from a tray as a tear of condensation slips down your wrist.

That's when you feel the eyes. His eyes.

You move away, sliding to the side, hiding behind other people before you find him in front of you.

All tense jaw, blue-eyes and a black blazer you know he doesn't actually own. Because Bucky isn't flashy, he isn't silk lapels and wannabe-tuxedo jackets.

He was barely dinner and a candle.

Lifting your chin, you stare into his eyes as he raises his hand, and you catch sight of your bag. Your damn bag.

Stepping closer, he takes the glass from your hand, placing it on a side as he hands it to you.

"Still shit at keeping your possessions safe then?"

You snatch the bag from him, eyes narrowing. "I misplace things, I don't lose them."

"You never misplace a target though."

"No. No, I don't. And, if that's your clever way of asking me if I stalked you that night, my answer would be no. I stumbled in there, wishing to drown my sorrows just like you were, you ass.

Opening your bag, you eyeball everything, checking it all over as you hear him laugh.

"Not really in the business of stealing things from women's bags."

Smirking, you clasp it shut. "Just disappearing one morning and going on a date with another woman the next, then," you snarl, lifting your eyes to meet his at your last word.

He shifts. Jaw tensing as he averts his eyes. "That isn't fair."

"Oh, you didn't leave one morning and not come back? Even if you said you were in, all in. That was someone else, was it?"

Bucky doesn't smile. Doesn't smirk. But he does scold you with his glare. "No."

"Oh. Interesting."

He runs his hand over his face as he looks you up and down. "You should be more careful with your things."

"You should be less of an asshole."

"I'll let my therapist know."

Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. "They still a bitch?"

Bucky frowns, before it vanishes.

"I assume they must be, because you say it with an infliction. A bitterness. You used to do that when you disliked something. Like truth."

The corner of his mouth twitches.

"But, I never really knew you anyway did I?"

You go to move. Put distance between the two of you.

If you don't, you'll crumble. You'll fall apart because you don't let people in. But you let him in.

His hand had other ideas, grasping your elbow.

"You look good."

Smirking, you tug your elbow out of his grasp. "I look good?" Jabbing his chest, watching his jaw tighten. "I look fucking great, Bucky."

He's quicker this time.

Not even letting you turn before he grasps you, but this time, he's firmer. More purposeful. Pulling you close, too close.

He wonders if you're still as responsive.

Bucky moving his flesh hand to unbutton your blazer, unveiling just skin and necklaces underneath.

He doesn't fight the groan, not as he connects your spine with door of his room for the night. He'd apologise to Sharon in the morning, winding his other arm around you, not letting you go.

We got a problem? No. You look like you have a problem. I'm handling it. Yeah, I bet. You look like you've handled her before. Shut up, Sam.

His lips move from yours. Descending down to your neck, the slight gasp leaving your mouth makes him smirk against your lips as he kicks the door shut.

Bucky is sure you're calling him every name in your pretty little head. Because he is rotten, an asshole, and you can't hate him anymore than he hates himself.

Especially as he traces circles with the tip of his tongue on your skin, hands spread over your hips before sliding his fingers up, under your expensive jacket, feeling goosebumps as he does.

How'd you know her, Buck? An old acquaintance. You break her out of prison too? Funny. You're real funny.

Sliding his touch over the bare skin of your breast, letting his thumb brushes over your nipple at the same time as he captures your lips. Forgetting how good it feels to hear you moan as he swallows it with his lips, a part of him needing to survive.

And he does.

Fuck, he does.

He slides his fingers up your chest, palm past your jaw as he cups your cheek. Feeling your blush against his cheek, releasing your lips with a pop.

“Please…”

He walks you backwards, only the jacket on your arms and the matching cobalt trousers protecting you from the cold before the two of you crash down onto a mattress.

He admires you, taking a second to watch you watching him.

I'll be right back. Cause you're sorting your problem? Sam. I'm just saying. Well, don't.

He remembers how soft you could be, how he'd misjudged your edges when he'd found himself in the same bar as you.

And then your lips nip at his, and he rolls his hips against yours. His free hand undoing your trousers, as your fingers undo his jacket, forcing it down his arms.

“So desperate, huh?” he growls against your mouth, helping you slide his arms free before placing an arm against the mattress above your head. Pinning you as he feels you still.

Eyes blinking up at him, the low light from the window shining in them.

And he wants to apologise.

He wants to explain.

Bucky doesn't.

“So needy.”

Groaning, you bite the inside of your mouth as you tilt your head. “Do you want to shut up, James?”

Undoing his belt, the buckle sounds meeting his ears but he refuses to take his eyes from you. Feeling the way his jeans slide down his legs to his knees.

"Don't call me that."

You rip his belt from the hooks off his jeans with a crack.

"Or... what? You're gonna talk my ear off?" you snarl, unbuttoning and sliding his zip down, sliding your fingers down his lower stomach, past the band of his underwear. "Because, I can talk all damn night."

He gasps, fixing his gaze on you, searing into you, as you take a hold off him. Wrapping your hand around him, pumping his length as you hold his gaze.

You undo him. You drive him crazy.

But it’s worth it.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His hips thrust into your grip, and his thumb pulls down on your lip as he lets a low groan emit in his throat. One you always pull from him. “You do... you do look fucking great,” he groans. You trace his thumb with your tongue. “Fuck, you feel so good with your hand—”

And then you let go.

Hand sliding from his length to his waist as you tilt your head. And he deserves that. He knows he does. But his expression must be telling, because your eyes are watching him, smirking at him, daring him.

He hates you. Even if he doesn’t. Not even a little bit.

Because while he wants too, disliking that someone has seen him so weak when he first moved to Brooklyn, he can’t. He owes you so much. He cares and he’s grateful, and it messes up in his mind.

Jumbling things he knows with confidence, with the things he doesn’t.

“You’re cruel.”

Smiling, giving him that damn smile he first noticed across the bar. The one which is both hot and cold all at once; the one which screams joy and wickedness rolled into one. The one which made him buy you a drink to be with.

The same smile which had him dragging you out into the alleyway down the side, and burying himself inside of you just to wipe it away.

It didn’t work. It never did.

He was sure it was just for him. To push him, to test him.

Now though, now you’re looking at him with vengeance as you roll your hips; purposefully brushing against him before you shove him off you.

“I can be crueler?” You say, far too sweetly for the look on your face.

He swallows, turning to stare at you as he rolls his jaw and you stand up. He knows if he lets you leave, that's it

He can't apologise. He can't explain.

Not that he has the words. Not that he even knows where to begin. Peeling his underwear off with his jeans, he sighs, throwing his bare legs from the bed as he wraps his metal arm around you, hooking you back down to the bed.

This dance is one the two of you know well.

He’s even sure that you’re on this goddamn earth for him because of the way you pull towards him.

And he’s on you before he can think.

Hearing you hiss at the coolness of it against your skin. Not letting you speak as he captures your mouth, feeling your fingers press against his waist. Your nails digging in as he dips his hand between your thighs.

The hiss.

The mew.

He stops kissing you only to hear it as he runs his thumb over your pearl. Feeling you arch, sliding a finger between your holds, feeling your walls tighten around his finger as he watches you.

Watches you blink as you stare at him, hating him for being the one touching you as good as he currently is.

“Oh,” he whispers against your jaw, “You don’t have a cruel bone in your body.”

He slides another finger in.

Watching your mouth shift into an O as he does, eyes darkening, as he kisses you. Sliding a tongue past your lips as he teases, and strokes. Feeling you tighten around his fingers, as your breaths knit together. Desperation and need flashing in your eyes before they clench shut, your hips rolling against his hand, and he smirks.

“Let go,” he says, more commanding than usual.

You do.

Fuck, you do. He feels you flutter around him as he kisses you, stifling your moans as your fingers rake over his scalp.

And he's so hard, each brush of you against him makes him want to groan and he does so, when you wrap your hand around him again. This time, lining him up at your entrance, biting down on his bottom lip as he opens his eyes to find you staring.

A silent sign of approval. A nod, so to speak.

And then he's falling, sliding into you, feeling how much you want him as he fills you, as he bottoms out and hungrily kisses you before he pulls back and fills you again.

You feel so good. Impossibly good.

So good he's still not sure why he left.

Not as your whimpers meet his ears as his teeth rake down your neck, biting your collarbone. Not as your leg hooks over his waist, allowing him deeper into you.

Especially not when you call him Bucky, pleading with him, needing and wanting him as he builds speed, chasing a release that's coming closer and closer.

He cups your breast, noticing how warm your skin is as he traces his thumb over your nipple, sucking and nipping at the skin at the base of your neck. He can feel it, how close you are as well as hear it. Hear how you need him to go faster, deeper, needing more and more and more...

As your nails begin leaving half-moons on his neck, and he wants you to. He needs you to mark him, even as your name is falling from your lips in numerous chants.

And then, you shatter.

You clench and flutter.

And he snaps. Burying the sounds of his release in your neck, hips spasming as he falls apart against you finding you hold him tighter.

It takes a moment, a second and a breath, and then he lets himself meet your gaze as your chest rises and falls. In a rhythm as his own. He watches as realisation dawns on you, as the moment crashes down around the two of you.

Because fuck. That's all he thinks.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Shit.

“We just…”

He swallows. “We did.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” he says, sliding from the top of you, lying next to you, watching you stare at the ceiling.

You don’t move, but you do let out a huge sigh. One he can’t read, one which baffles him more than anything else you’ve done all evening.

Because somehow he never expected to see you here. Not in Madripoor. You’re not innocent, but you’re not… Madripoor, either.

“Shower?”

He blinks, rolling his head to meet your blank stare. Watching. Waiting for you to laugh, to take it back.

But then you sit up, sliding your arms free from your jacket as you stand up. Showing him the curve of your behind as you head towards another door.

“Is it this way?”

He stares.

Because he doesn’t know.

And you’ve opened the door, and he hears your feet on the tiles before water sounds.

And he blinks.

Just blinks.

Before he follows.

#Bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky barnes x fem!reader #Bucky barnes x female reader #Bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #Bucky x fem!reader #Bucky x reader smut #Bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n

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inkyvendingmachine · 2 years

Note

In flower shop au, does sammy have tattoos? Susie? Jack? Etc?

almost everyone in FSAU has tattoos because I needed some way to add ink back in. and tattoos are nice. I don’t have refs for everyone, but here are some (causally covered with cheap black underwear, where it could be,,) semi nude refs of the few I do have designs for,

Joey has a thorns pattern, where one arm stays completely thorny and the other is full of flowers. All black work, and for some reason the thorns are crushing a flower over his heart? weird,

Sammy has two tattows, one in his ear of a rose and a treble clef, the other is on his thigh, white hydrangeas and an alto clef, specifically upside down, so when he views it it’s rightside up. because that one is for him.

Jack has an inkwell with flowers on his arm, and a quote on his lower back. I couldn’t think of a cool literary quote, so this one is actually from a video I sometimes return to whenever I’m feeling exhausted; “Because we are not built to do big things alone; we’re built to do them together.” ( Emily & Amelia Nagoski, Burnout - XOXO Festival (2019) )

Susie has the angel wings tattoo and uh, a matching devil wings tattoo...

and Norman has a tattoo of a projector surrounded by lily pads and vines and lilies because Why Not.

#have your pitch fee check ready #A pencil and a dream #middle of the night post batims in their underwear #flowershop!au #joey drew #sammy lawrence #Jack Fain #susie campbell #norman polk #bendy and the kink machine #everything is covered but just in case #Joey Delphinium #Sammy Lathyrus #Jack Fern #Susie Campanula #Norman Phlox

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kenmascatears · 4 years

Text

helping out

descripion: bakugo loses a wrestling match and you comfort him

genre: comfort, smut

warnings: creampie, public sex

a/n: as a wrestler and someone who has only dated wrestlers, i’ve decided to write over my wrestler boy trauma by talking abt bakugo😼

+your boyfriend was an amazing wrestler. he played on the universities team and was nationally ranked

+you would come to all of his meets and tournaments and cheer him on

+seeing your boyfriend defeating his opponents in match after match always made you proud

+you were at one of his tournaments right now and things were not looking good for bakugo

+he had stormed off to the locker room, upset over a loss, and you went to comfort him.

“katsuki?” you whispered, peeking your head through the door of the locker room.

the silence was almost deafening.

your boyfriend was sitting on a bench, staring blankly at the wall.

as he looked up at the sound of your voice, you could tell that he was upset. his brow was furrowed, eyes glistening with unshed tears, and his jaw was tense.

“‘m sorry suki,” you murmured, already reaching towards him. “that ref didn’t know what he was talking about.”

pulling him in, his head resting on your stomach, you began running your fingers through his hair. as he reached up to wrap his arms around your waist, staying silent, his shoulders began to shake, and you felt the hem of your shirt become damp.

bakugo was crying.

you knew from experience that the best way to handle bakugo’s emotions was to let him work through them in his own time. you stood there, as bakugo continued to cry, stroking his hair and whispering soft words to him.

as he calmed down, you cupped his face in your hands, wiping away the tear tracks on his cheeks.

“do you need anything?”

time seemed to stop.

scarlet eyes stared up at you.

suddenly you were yanked into bakugo’s lap, squealing from the shock, as he roughly kissed you. you could taste the salt from his tears and the tangerine he had eaten earlier on his lips, and you kissed back with fervor, wanting to help him feel better.

“i need you ______, please,” he murmured against your lips, lifting up the hem of your skirt and slipping your underwear to the side, two fingers pressing into you as his palm pressed against your clit. you twitched at the sudden stimulation, hips grinding against his hand.

bakugo began pressing hot kisses against your neck, pulling you closer to him, as you fumbled with the straps of his singlet, trying to pull them down.

“suki,” you moaned out, “someone’s gonna see”

“then we gotta make it quick princess.”

you whined as he pulled his hands away from you to slide his singlet and underwear off.

grabbing his cock, he lifted you up, aligning it with your pussy before sinking you down on it.

as he bottomed out you began riding him, setting a pace quickly. getting lost in the sensation of his dick filling you up so nicely, dragging across all of your walls you began to cry out.

“suki, you’re so big - ahh - filling me up!"

the praise spurred bakugo to thrust up into you. you hadn’t thought his cock could go any deeper but it did, the tip brushing against your cervix.

the feeling soon became overwhelming, your head becoming hazy and you resigned yourself to cling to him, face nestled in the crook of his neck as you cried out.

“suki it feels so good, ‘m close.”

wanting to cum, you snaked a hand down to your puffy clit, but before you could begin to touch yourself, it was yanked away.

the baritone of bakugo’s voice filled your ear.

“what do you want princess?”

“‘katsuki please” you moaned out, “‘m so close.”

he began to circle your clit and with a few thrusts you came, cunt fluttering and gushing all over bakugo’s cock.

drunk on the feeling of your pussy creaming all over him, bakugo came with a shout, filling you up with his cum.

as the two of you came down from your highs, you lifted your head up to look at him. those once saddened vermillion eyes were now clear and full of life.

as he stared back at you, you could feel your heart swell.

“are you feeling better now katsuki?” you inquired.

“i will be,” he replied, hands rubbing at your sides, “you helped me for now.”

as he leaned in to kiss you, he now tasted only like tangerines.

“let's get cleaned up,” he cheekily said, after pulling away, “i don't need the guys to see what's mine.”

#bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader smut #katsuki bakugo x reader smut #katsuki bakugou smut #bakugo katsuki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x y/n

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penaltbox · 3 years

Text

no promises - cole caufield

here’s a little fic that i’m actually pretty proud of and i owe so much credit to @puckyess for always helping me get these ideas rolling. if you like it let me know! feedback and reblogs are much appreciated!

word count: ~5.9k

The image of the gold chain he always wore dances behind your closed eyelids for the third night in a row. You swear you can hear his ragged breath in your ear, his mumbled profanities mingling with the gasps you let out when he checks to make sure you’re still okay, and the brief mentions of something gone wrong during the game. It’s like he’s right there, pushing you both closer to a release of emotions that you played no part in aggravating. You’re ready to lose it when you shoot up in bed, your phone lit up on the side table next to you with a notification. You take a deep breath and steady yourself, not even realizing that you’d fallen asleep. You rub your hand over your face and grab the device to check who was contacting you at such a late hour. You had a feeling you knew who…

‘Speak of the devil’, you thought as you unlocked your screen and tapped on his message. You realize then that it’s just past one o’clock in the morning and you connect the dots that he’d probably just gotten back from their trip to Ohio State.

‘come over’

Never a please. Never a ‘would you like to’. Never a doubt that you wouldn’t do exactly what he asked of you.

And you had yet to prove him wrong. You slip out from under your covers quickly, grabbing some clothes and sneaking into your bathroom with your fingers crossed that your roommate wouldn’t hear you. You shower quickly and shave, slipping on the lace underwear that he’d probably hardly notice and some comfy clothes before brushing your teeth and heading for the door.

“Where are you going?” Your roommate asks, head peeking over the back of the couch as you jump in surprise. She was rarely up late, but of course, some west coast hockey game had kept her up well past her bedtime on that night of all times. You were so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you hadn’t even noticed the TV still on when you walked out.

“Uhm, nowhere,” you lie, knowing she’ll see right through you, “I’ll be back tonight though.”

She sighs and turns back around, “you know he’s just going to hurt you.”

And that… that was probably true, but it’s something you refuse to think about in that moment. Instead, you slip your shoes on and grab your keys, heading out just as suddenly as his request had come in. You made a half-hearted mental note that this needed to be the last time you did this.

You hate how quickly you get to his place but you can’t help it. It’s like second nature at this point and you could get there on autopilot if needed. Some nights it felt just like that but tonight you had a weird buzzing under your skin. It wasn’t like you were doing this for the first time or anything. Far from it, in fact. You try to brush the feeling off as nerves and stop two doors down from his actual apartment, sending him a text that you’d arrived, just like he always asked you to do.

It takes a few minutes but his head pops out of the door suddenly and he smirks, “about time.”

You roll your eyes playfully and walk towards him, leaning in to kiss his cheek before making your way towards his bedroom. Brock barely spares you a glance from the couch, focusing his eyes on the TV as he watches the replay of the game your roommate had caught earlier. You blush and turn towards Cole’s room, but manage to catch Brock telling Cole to keep it down in a less than pleased voice.

You ignore it and make your way into Cole’s room, peeking out the window at the city below that was much quieter than you were used to with it being such a late hour.

“Miss me?” He calls from behind you, catching your attention.

You turn and find him still donning the smirk he’d formed when he first saw you that night, “wouldn’t you love to know.”

He scoffs a little and you watch his demeanor start to shift. Cole never called because he wanted to see you. No, it was more that he needed you to be there. Cole had a short temper ever since getting to Wisconsin. He found himself easily agitated and regularly frustrated at how his game had gone from smooth and easy with the NTDP to always struggling with the Badgers.

And then one night he met you. He didn’t mean to start hooking up with you but you knew enough about hockey that he could talk about what went wrong if he wanted to, but you also knew when you just let him have his turn to get his frustrations out. His mouth turns down in a scowl as he locks his bedroom door and closes the gap between you two. His stare is constant and you feel your cheeks heat up almost instantly. He had control over you that you’d never given up to anyone and it made for addictingly good sex.

“This last game sucked,” he mumbles, backing you against the wall and resting a hand on your hip. He’s so close you can feel his warm breaths as he seems to disconnect from the world suddenly.

He goes silent but you don’t need any other explanation. You’d watched the game and saw he got his shit rocked on a couple different occasions. You would bet there was a bruise somewhere under his clothes that you’d be finding in no time.

He presses his lips roughly against yours as his free hand comes around your waist, holding you tight against him. His hand slides up from your hip and slips under your shirt until he gets up to your bra… or where it should be.

“Fuck,” he hisses, pulling back and lifting your battered Wisconsin crew neck over your head, “no bra? I love it.”

Your heart stalls a little at the l-word, not expecting him to say that. You don’t get time to react though as he kisses you again, slower this time, and angles you over towards the bed. He lets you fall back on it and you smile, reaching a hand out for him. He takes it, giving you a grin back that makes the buzzing under your skin worsen.

Cole was always different once he got you in his room. He didn’t say much when you got there or left, but when it was just the two of you? He was all hands on. He was vocal; he checked in on you, he praised you, and he always made sure you finished. But he never looked at you when he did.

He’s quick to shed his own clothes and tug your joggers off, wasting no time as his lips found as much skin as they could. He left a couple marks, but not anywhere they’d be visible. You did your best to keep up, gripping his shoulders as you rolled your hips up against his.

He’s settled into you and creating a pace before he says another word, his tone strained as he says, “can’t believe that goal didn’t count. Fuck that ref. We hardly got enough chances on net. Shit, I’m getting close, baby.”

“Just a little longer,” you squeak, digging your nails into his back as the pet name rolled through your thoughts. He never called you by name during sex. It was a red flag that stood tall but you still ignored it every time it happened.

You could feel every failed play in the way he moved. You knew there were missed shots and poor passes that resulted in them losing. You watch the wheels turn in his head as he holds you down just a little harder, blunt nails digging into your skin. His left bites the skin above your collarbone and you know it’ll leave a mark but it still pulls an obscene noise from your lips.

He presses his forehead into the crook of your neck, lips melting against your warm skin. He slips a hand down to help you along and it works much faster than you expected. You hated how he knew what would make your body react fastest as you tumble to your end. You try to catch your breath below him, knowing the hold he had on your hip would leave bruises. It usually did. He rolls onto his back, staring at the ceiling for a couple minutes when he’s done.

He looks over at you, the corner of his lips just slightly pulled up, “are you good?”

“I’m good,” you laugh, still a little out of breath, “just don’t make me stand up right this second. My legs feel like jello.”

“Deal,” he laughs, letting his hand slide over, hooking your pinkies together in the small space between the two of you.

Once you finally feel up for it you slide out of his warm bed, grabbing your clothes and sliding them back on. Cole pulls sweatpants on and waits until you’re ready before walking you out. He stops at his own door first though and leans down, giving you a much more gentle kiss than the first that night. He lets you both linger, arms wrapped around each other, and leans his forehead on yours when he finally separates his mouth from yours.

“I’ll see you next time?” He asks, but you both know the answer.

“Yeah, of course.”

His demeanor turns back to friendly versus affectionate as he walks you to the front door. You notice that Brock is no longer taking up space on the couch and you feel embarrassed when you think of what he must have heard.

Cole tells you goodbye, but there’s no hug and definitely no kiss this time around. He watches until you get safely into the elevator and leaves you with a nod of his head. You really wondered why you stuck around but when you remember the last kiss he’d given you, you can’t help but press your fingers to your lips as the buzzing under your skin heightens again.

—

You watch the time tick down off the clock, wincing when you watch Cole smash his stick off the wall at the buzzer. They’d gotten destroyed by Minnesota and you already knew what type of mood he was in. The announcers make comments on the bad attitudes the Badgers were toting, mentioning multiple things they’d done wrong that night. You mute them but leave the feed running just in case they interviewed someone you’d want to hear from.

It was a home game so there was no flight to wait for but you had a good feeling you’d be getting a text in an hour or two so you moved from the couch to your bathroom, not wanting to make him wait with how he was acting already.

As soon as you wrap the fluffy towel around your body and tap the screen you see three messages waiting from Cole and one from a number you didn’t have saved. You frown and open it quickly, tapping the unknown number first.

‘Hey it’s Brock. Sorry if this is weird but the doors unlocked and I’m gone for the night so deal with my brother please and thanks’

You laugh a little, knowing he must be way more worked up than you expected. ‘What a shit show this is going to be’, you think to yourself. You skim Cole’s messages next that range from ‘come over’ to ‘I’m dead serious get over here’. You’re about to type out a response when his contact pops up on your screen. He’d never called before.

“Hello?” You answer, brow furrowed in confusion.

“Why are you ignoring me? Get over here,” He grits out, sounding so tense your jaw drops a little.

You sigh, tucking the phone between your shoulder and cheek as you hurry to your room to grab clothes, “I am, I promise. I was just in the shower.”

“We don’t make promises, remember? The front door is open when you get here.”

You’re about to tell him you knew that but the line goes dead, leaving you to stare at the blank screen in your hand. You’re baffled at the attitude he was projecting onto you but you get your things together anyways and finish getting ready. ‘

You don’t hurry to his place this time, knowing he was on edge either way, but you still get there in under 20 minutes from when he’d called. You bite your lip as you try the door handle, finding it unlocked just like both Caufield boys had said. You take a deep breath and walk in, locking the door behind you

“Cole?” you call out, looking around the small space. He’s not in the kitchen or living room so you head down the hall. His room is dark, leaving you confused, but then you hear the shower. You tap on the door and peek your head in, “Cole?”

His head pops out from around the corner, a frown so prominent his forehead was creasing. It eases off his face a little when he locks eyes on you as he calls for you, “will you come here? Get in with me.”

Your face heats quickly. You’d never done something so intimate with him and you were wondering if it was really the best idea. Your skin starts to get that all-too-familiar buzz under it now and you were starting to think it was permanent around him.

“Are you sure? I just took one and I don’t mind waiting in your room until you’re done.”

He sighs, pouting a little, “please.”

You really wished you had more willpower in that moment but when it came to him you just didn’t. You nod and make your way into the small room, striping your clothes off as he watched. It makes you feel so much more exposed than usual but somehow it’s not uncomfortable. You push him back gently as you go to step in, smiling a little.

“You better make room if you want me in here,” you tease, putting your hair up in a bun to keep it dry.

Cole smirks and pulls you into him, eyes still scanning your body, “I’ll do whatever you ask.”

You snort at that and roll your eyes, “we both know that’s a lie. You’re the one who calls the shots around here.”

He’s silent for a moment before he smirks and leans down, kissing you hard. He bites gently on your bottom lip, much to your surprise, and lets a hand trail down the side of your thigh. He looks like he’s up to no good when he pulls back, making you let out a little laugh. You knew when you were in trouble with him.

“Let’s see what it’s like in the shower. I bet you sound amazing in here,” he says, his tone low enough to make you shiver a bit. You didn’t hate the idea. You were pretty sure anywhere the two of you chose would be worth your time, but the bathroom was… well lit. He’d see every inch of you and you were pretty sure he hadn’t yet.

“Are you sure?” you check in, half hoping he’ll change his mind for some reason.

“Yeah I’m sure. I think it’ll be fun,” he nods, but stops when he notices your hesitation, “unless you’re not cool with it?”

“No! I’m okay with it! I just was thinking we’ve never really done anything with so much, you know, light and stuff,” you blush, looking down at your feet then and feeling a little silly for your admission.

Cole reaches out to tilt your chin back up towards him, “I’ll let you call this shot.”

And you agree. You end up losing your footing a couple times, he has to hold your waist almost always, and you can’t help but laugh at the awful noises that are being made at an awful volume in the tiled area. It’s simultaneously the worst yet most fun sex the two of you had dealt with yet. It takes longer than normal to finish for you both so you’re exhausted by the time you both lean on each other to catch your breath.

“Wonder what time it is by now,” you mumble, cheek pressed against his chest as you hug his waist tight.

He looks down and leans to kiss your forehead so gently you can’t breathe suddenly, “probably pretty late. Did you just want to spend the night?”

You sigh and try to step away but his arms hold you tightly in place. You give him a look, trying to remind him that you both know better than to even think about doing that. This was still just a hookup. Or at least it was supposed to be.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” you sigh, leaning your cheek back onto his chest to listen to his heartbeat rather than catching his stare.

“You’re right,” he agrees, but he doesn’t sound very convincing.

He carefully slips from your arms and out of the shower, grabbing his own towel before searching for an extra for you. He shuts the shower off and wraps the towel tightly around you, giving you another forehead kiss. He was really pushing boundaries for the night and you were struggling to keep saying no.

You both dress in silence, but it’s far from awkward. You can see the tension is gone in his shoulders and he just looks exhausted now. You’re still determined to leave and keep things casual, but if you weren’t, you’d have him wrapped in your arms in his bed while you played with his hair. Luckily, or maybe not, you’d never know that was struggling not to think of the same thing.

He catches you by surprise yet again that night when he kisses you at the front door. He usually played it cool and acted unattached in any of the common spaces but tonight was much different. You had so many thoughts in your head from the way he was treating you and you knew you needed to go.

A quick goodbye and one more fast kiss, or you wouldn’t leave, and you were walking a little quicker than usual to the elevator. Maybe it was time to start telling him no. You laugh at your own thoughts immediately. You were way too gone for him to ever do that.

—

‘Let me know when you land and I’ll get ready’

You stare at the words that you’d texted, wondering if you blacked out when you sent them. You can’t take it back, unfortunately, and you’re left with the gnawing feeling that you shouldn’t have done it. Cole was always the one to ask you over.

“You sent him what?” Your roommate asks, her eyes wide as she leans over your shoulder to read it, “oh my god, are you in love with him or something?”

“What? No!” You yell back, but truthfully you weren’t sure about that, “I just figured I’d check in with him first? I don’t know, I guess I just thought I’d get the ball rolling earlier today.”

Your face feels hot to the touch as you press your hand against your cheek. You know you must look like a lost puppy because your roommate wraps her arms around you immediately, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Just be careful, okay? I know you have fun when you’re with him, but boys suck. You can’t trust him.”

You swallow hard and nod, knowing she was telling the truth. You nod as a silent agreement and tell yourself you need to start pulling away. It’s not that you want to. You always enjoy being with Cole. It’s more that you need to.

Cole turns his phone on once the flight lands. A few messages popping up right away. He’s about to ignore them all when he sees your name ding on the screen right before he can lock it. He feels a little tug in his chest as he reads the words you’d sent him. He tries to shrug the feeling off but the smack on his shoulder grounds him more than anything.

Brock stares at him, an almost knowing look on his face, “is that who I think it is? I thought you were the one who always reached out first.”

“I mean, I usually am. This is a first,” Cole says, looking back down at the message that has his face quickly turning up in a smile.

“You know this isn’t a good idea,” Brock mumbles as he gives his little brother a side eye, “when are you going to stop playing with her emotions and make a decision? Because it sure looks like you’re getting your own feelings involved at this point, too.”

“I’m sure she just sent it because she knows by now. We practically have a routine at this point so she’s really not out of line or anything,” Cole justifies, starting to type out a message right away.

Brock laughs a little before standing to get off the plane, “just don’t come crying to me when things go wrong because you two wouldn’t talk about things and one of you ends up heartbroken. Or both of you.”

Cole sighs and tries to shake off the words from his brother because honestly, he knew what Brock was saying was the truth. He’d always said he wasn’t going to get into anything serious because everything until the NHL was just a short-term stay. He hadn’t listened to that rule in high school though and so far he was having a hard time listening to it at college as well. Despite the advice from his brother he texts you back, wanting to just go with what made him feel good.

‘Don’t be late’

He throws a winking emoji on at the end, quickly softening the formerly demanding message. You nearly choke on your own breath when it comes in on your phone. You’d spent the last half hour pacing your apartment and overthinking the worst case scenarios that could come from your choice to text him first. You’re surprised that he’s so casual about it, if you’re being honest, but you chalk it up to it being a routine thing that you guys did after his games. It’s all you need to hear though and you finish getting ready while trying not to think too hard about what it meant that you were both showing a desire to be together.

Cole barely drops his backpack down in his room when his phone lights up. He smiles subconsciously and opens your message as he’s walking back towards the front door. Brock happens to be walking in the opposite direction and gives Cole a solid shove on his shoulder, mumbling something about how soft Cole was getting. He ignores the comment and pulls the front door open quickly, looking over at you.

“Well look who it is. Get over here,” he says, directing his smile at you.

You blush when you see how happy he looks and it makes your stomach flutter. That couldn’t be a good sign, but you can’t help it. You walk over and lean in, testing to see where the boundaries were that day. He leans down easily, kissing you gently, and making your brain go haywire. He’d never done that in the common space. He takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours and giving a little squeeze as he takes the familiar path to his room. You were pretty sure you could walk the apartment with your eyes closed by now and you mark another little red flag in your head. They were tallying up faster and faster lately.

“You split the series, huh?” you ask, needing to break the silence with something to stop your thoughts from scrambling any longer.

Cole grins back at you, “yeah, they were decent so I’m glad we got that first win yesterday. Is that what it takes to get you to text first? A split?”

You can hear the teasing in his voice and it makes you blush, leaning your forehead on his arm, “stop, I thought you were back already. I didn’t mean to text early.”

He laughs, kissing your forehead and shutting the door behind him, “it’s okay. I didn’t mind it. We do kind of have that routine by now.”

“Yeah, we kind of do, huh? I just didn’t want to step over any lines with it,” you mumble, looking down where your hands are still connected.

“You didn’t,” he says quietly, grabbing your other hand and putting them on the back of his neck so he can wrap his arms around your waist, “don’t be afraid to do it again.”

You can’t form any words, opting to give him a little nod as your fingers play with the curls at the nape of his neck instead. He kisses you then and it takes your breath away. It feels like more than the ones you’d had before and maybe that was from his confession that he didn’t mind hearing from you whenever you pleased, but it’s a lot. In fact, the whole night is a lot.

He takes his time once he lays you down, picking you apart and finding every soft spot on your body. It isn’t rushed and aggressive like the hook ups usually were and you both were well aware of what you were doing. You even take a chance, tracing a bruise on his side with kisses to see if he’d let you. Usually he took charge and did things his way, but he lets you do what you want, making him whine and squirm like you’d never seen. You’re both exhausted by the time you’re done. You’d spent time, and for once, a lot of emotion on each other that wasn’t how things used to be. He pulls you against his chest after as he gently dances his fingers up and down your back.

“Same thing next weekend?” he jokes, getting a laugh out of you instantly. The sound makes the tug in his chest come back and he tries to push it away.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” you say and pretend to think about it, “what if I have other plans or you guys win both games?”

“Why don’t you text first again and we’ll see what happens?”

You bite your lip and start to sit up, knowing you needed to leave before you got too tired or lost your willpower to tell him no. Cole frowns immediately and you catch the look right away, teasing him, “you aren’t so tough after all, are you, Caufield?”

“Just stay,” he says, his tone low enough to make your stomach flip as he catches your wrist, “you already broke your rules once today. Do it again.”

You toss the idea around in your head, knowing this would go much farther than it should. It would step over so many lines, but your composure wasn’t very good around him anymore. You nod, leaning down to kiss him before settling back against his chest. He wraps his arms around you and kisses your temple. You hate how happy you feel with him as you remember all the red flags he’d given you in the past. You close your eyes and just try to relax. Next time you’d discuss what was going on. That was one promise you wanted to keep for yourself.

You and Cole go silent for the rest of the week after spending the night, but that was normal. You two didn’t talk any other time and you didn’t reach out unless it was after a game to sleep together. Still it manages to nag at you and you kick yourself. You caught feelings. You should have known better and cut things off weeks ago when you’d first started to get butterflies. Now it was too late and you knew you needed to have the ‘what is this’ talk with him sooner rather than later. You couldn’t keep wasting your time on someone who wasn’t going to stick around. You manage to make it through the week without reaching out to him, saving the interaction in case they lost their games that weekend and you’d inevitably hear from him then.

Except they win.

Except he texts you immediately after the game with a message you’d never gotten from him.

‘Can we talk tonight?’

Your heart hammers in your chest as you read the four words over and over and over again. They’re burned into your memory by the time you look up, realizing your eyes had begun to tear up. You knew you needed to talk but you weren’t ready for the request to come from him. You send back a thumbs up emoji, not knowing how to string together any words that would make sense. You go on autopilot after that as you play through every possible situation that could come from this.

Realistically it could either go really well or really poorly. He could say he also had feelings for you and that he wanted to make things work. Or, the worst option, he could tell you he didn’t have any feelings and he was done hooking up for good. You run through both options until your mind goes static and you have to force yourself out of the shower that’s run cold from being in it so long. You go through the motions of getting yourself to his place and sending the ‘here’ message that was customary at this point.

When he opens the door he doesn’t give you a smile, but waves you over. Neither of you go for a kiss and the air feels heavy around you both. It does nothing to calm your nerves or the churning in your stomach. You knew you weren’t there for a hookup that night, that much was obvious. It’s Brock standing in the living room that surprises you most. You catch his gaze and the soft, almost apologetic, smile he gives you sends you into overdrive. What the hell was going on?

With a hand on the small of your back, Cole ushers you towards the one room that usually offered privacy and relief, but this time it looked like a death sentence prison cell. His hand feels hot on your back and not in the good way that it used to. You lean against his desk when you get in there, immediately crossing your arms across your chest to get away from him. He shuts the doors softly and shoves his hands in his pockets as he stands in front of you. He still has his game suit on, minus the jacket, and you let yourself look. He looks ridiculously handsome and you commit the image to memory, having a feeling this was the one and only time you’d be getting that view.

“Would you just tell me already?” you whisper, knowing that the worst was coming.

He runs his tongue across his bottom lip, nodding, “I don’t want to hurt you. I really don’t. It’s exactly why I’ve always said we can’t make promises to each other.”

You frown at him, “so then don’t. It’s literally that simple.”

“It’s not though,” he says with a little laugh, “I already made my promises to someone else.”

Your blood runs cold at that and you realize you hadn’t thought of one very awful possibility of why he wanted to talk. He had someone else already. Your throat feels so tight that it’s hard to breathe and you try to suck in a deep breath that doesn’t help at all. You shake your head and tighten your arms more across your chest, praying it helps hold your heart together for just a little longer.

“Who is she?”

He hangs his head like this entire thing isn’t his own fault, “we were together in high school and now we go to separate schools. I didn’t want to hold her back but I don’t know how to let her go either.”

“So you’re a cheater,” you spit out, tears falling fast before you can even try and hold them back, “you’re cheating on her and I’m the other girl. What the fuck is wrong with you, Cole?”

“It’s not cheating!” he tries to justify, holding his hands up and stepping closer to you, “we’re not official right now.”

You push him back, hand firm on his chest to give yourself space, “fuck you. You’re as official as you can be and you still slept with me for the last four months. You knew what you were doing and you didn’t care. You didn’t have her here so you found a good substitute. That’s awesome, thanks for fucking up my life and emotions in the process.”

“Stop, I told you I didn’t want to hurt you. That’s why I’m being honest right now.”

“Honest?” you raise your voice, well aware that Brock could probably hear everything at this point, “you call this honest? You’re a liar and a cheater, Cole Caufield! I can’t believe I let you play me for this long.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I swear I didn’t mean for this to be the way it is,” he says, practically pleading at this point.

You shake your head, bottom lip wobbling as much as your voice, “you broke my heart. Are you happy with that? Was everything a joke to you? Sleeping together, forehead kisses, holding hands, spending the night? Or did you just picture her the whole time and I was just a stand in?”

“No,” he mumbles, trying to reach for you, but you smack his hand away and start to back yourself towards his door, “I swear it was real with you. I didn’t mean to take it so far but I started to like you, too.”

“You are unbelievable. I can’t believe I let you in so easily. I hate you.”

He swallows around a lump that appears in his throat suddenly. This wasn’t at all how he’d planned things. They were never supposed to go this far with you, but he couldn’t let you go. He couldn’t but now he had to. He had no options anymore and he would probably lose everyone in the process.

“I promise I will hate you for the rest of my life,” you whisper, cheeks wet with tears despite your best efforts to try and rid yourself of them before you left. He didn’t deserve to know how much he was breaking you.

You rip open his door and all but run out of the apartment. Brock catches your gaze from the living room as you open their front door. Immediately his heart breaks a little. He knew the entire time and never saved you from this. He was just as guilty as his brother was. Cole stays frozen in place where you’d left him in his room, heart hurting despite everything. He’d let you keep your promise about hating him. That was one he deserved to carry with him.

#cole caufield #mine #my writing #wisconsin hockey #usa hockey #team usa #hockey fic #college hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #if you know him pls leave lol

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mrs-hollandstan · 4 years

Text

Play Me || Boxer!Tom Holland

Warnings: all of it is just smut (18+), unprotected sex, somewhat public sex, male masturbation, brief oral (m receiving), language, boxing themes, douchebag Tommo, mentions of STDs and one night stands

Word Count: 5,857

Author’s Note: So as I said before, I had intended on just reposting my Easter smut today but I’ve been looking for a good time to post this and I think now is that time. I hope you guys enjoy and as always, lemme know what you think :)

Masterlist || Add yourself to one of my taglists

The cat and mouse game that forced your hand was Tom's fortay. He loved drawing you in, intoxicating you with the sweet words and slew of texts, making it seem like he was into being together before he thrust you back into the real world with so much as a fuck you. His lifestyle was chaotic and you didn't really blame him for being the way he was when it came to you and any mention of a relationship. Even though you knew it wasn't his lifestyle that was to blame. It was a game to him. He played you. Molded and shaped you just the way he liked. And you played along.

You cared about him more than anything. Whether it was watching him get beat down on TV or in person, the sight was hard to watch. But most often than not, he prevailed, careening his opponent back against the ropes before body slamming him against the floor and wrestling him down just long enough for the refs to call it. Of course, there were the times he'd give them a punch straight between the eyes and they were down for the count, sometimes before the math had even seen five minutes. But more often than not, he exhausted all energy into pinning a burley guy down to the blood covered mat, listening for those three crucial smacks to the foam before standing up, arms thrust in the air in victory. He'd flash a triumphant smile that showed the blue of his mouth guard, sweat glistening on his chest and blood trickling from the unruly eyebrow that was so uniquely Tom.

Most often than not, he entered the ring with butterfly bandages still on his cheek or temple, ripping them off before taking on another opponent and ensuring more cuts and bruises like the match before. You'd seen the scar in his right eyebrow that allowed for the tuft of hair to stick up a different direction than the other hair and allowing a break in the short cocoa colored hair. He'd allowed you that close once or twice, but it was always dangled before you and then the rope was cut and he'd be MIA from you for a few days. Tonight was the third day he'd left you hanging. You were used to it and you weren’t upset, showing up to support him while he battled his opponent, one of the ones to beat in his weight class. Tom had trained weeks in advance, small matches with smaller guys sprinkled throughout, all in underground boxing rings which you’d also attended. Quick cash. The second he stepped out into the ring, your heart thundered in your chest. He knew you were either here, or watching on TV, but he could feel it. He could feel your eyes on him in person.

Watching him dodge and throw punches was heart stopping. The friend beside you watched you more than Tom, knowing that every hit and kick thrown could be the one to lay him out. But alas, Tom prevailed, bouncing off a rope to lay a punch across the guy's cheek, knocking him to the floor, out cold. The ref counted it before declaring Tom the winner while medics checked his opponent.

And just like that, after six rounds the match was over and everyone flooded to the parking lots. You and your friend followed the group of guys you'd met up with to a bar, sharing a few drinks. One of the guys you followed kept trying to cop a field, whining every time you told him there was someone else you wanted that was most definitely not him. He went as far as throwing a fit when you stepped out into the night to answer a call,

"Y/N Y/L/N?" A woman's nasally voice rang through. You frowned, pulling your phone away to look at the number,

"Yes, who's this?"

"I'm Martha Conway, part of Mr. Holland's management team. He seems to have... locked himself away in the epicenter and we were wondering if you were willing to come cool him down. We found your name and number in his phone. You seem to be the only re occurrence in his life." Glancing over your shoulder at your friend, you lick your lips and nod,

"Yeah, okay. H-how do you want me to help?"

"We've left the keys next to a maintenance door around the back. He's around the ring and locker rooms. The two of you should be the only ones there." She remarks. Sighing, you nod again,

"Okay, yeah, I'll see what I can do. Thank you." You chide sweetly, hanging up and hurrying back into the bar to find your friend and explain to her the situation at hand. She nods,

"I'll call you if I need anything." She reassures. Nodding back, you find your way out, eyeing the guy that made a hit on you who just rolls his own eyes. Hurrying back to the massive building Tom's match was held in, you find the maintenance door quickly, parking close enough to it and finding the ring of keys to unlock the door. The building inside is a maze, lights left on and supplies scattered across the basement floors. Finding the ground level as quick as possible, you're met face to face with the stage, a big black boxing ring sat front and center with a single spotlight glorifying it. Being this close, you can smell the cleaner used hours before to clean up the sweat and blood from both men. You run your fingers over the jagged foam Tom's used to by now. He'd never offered you tickets to be close enough to the action. He knew you hated watching him get punched and kicked. Seeing his skin split and blood fly from his mouth as he got jostled wasn't something you wanted front row seats for. So he didn't even ask, and neither did you.

Sighing and strutting towards the locker room, you try a number of keys in the lock before one slides in, clicking it open. The sound of the showers running reverberates off the walls, steam coming from the far row of lockers where they're hidden. You close the door, making sure to announce your presence with the loud close. Walking down towards the showers, you inhale the warm air, steam mixed in with it. The sight before you when you round the last row of lockers shouldn't surprise you, but it does.

Water runs from Tom's hair, across his beaten face and toned body. Cuts run rampant across his forehead, disappearing beneath the mess of curls, there's a bruise under his left eye, and his bottom lip is swollen and busted. His back is against the shower wall, hand bound tight around his cock as he strokes himself rather fast. He's not surprised or caught off guard or even afraid of your presence when you gasp. He looks up for just a moment, water running across his lips,

"Figured they'd send you." He croaks out.

"Yeah... were you hoping for it?" You ask, watching with wide eyes as he strokes himself. He chews on his bottom lip, head thrown back against the tile and eyes squeezed shut,

"Fuck... if you wanna join, you're more than welcome." He hisses. Staring at him a moment longer, you give a gentle nod before turning to the bench behind you. Pulling your top over your head, Tom groans behind you,

"How is it that I could tell you weren't wearing a bra?" He rasps out, knowing all too well your cut off sleep shirts he'd asked for pictures of you in. Sure, he'd seen a little nipple action from you in those photos but not in the flesh. Smiling to yourself, you don't respond, sliding out of your jeans and underwear, walking towards him. The feeling of cold cement beneath your feet sends a chill up your spine, only heightened when you place your hand atop the half wall shielding Tom from you. He licks his lips, eyes locked on your chest, hand not slowing around his cock. You giggle, glancing down at yourself, pressing your elbows closer together,

"You like them handsome?" You ask. He nods and his adam's apple bobs as he swallows the saliva his mouth conjured up at the sight of your mouth watering body,

"Fuck yeah... God damn they're gorgeous." Cocking your head, you give a sideways smirk,

"All natural too. I'd say they're yours but... you keep givin me the run around." You pose. He nods, ignoring your statement,

"Fuckin amazing." His eyes flick up to your face for just a moment as you clamber to your knees, eyes locked back on your perky breasts. Staring at his hand bound tight around himself, he sucks in a pained breath when you take his hand in your own, staring up into his lust-struck eyes. The bruise under his left eye looks darker now that his head is bowed, watching you anticipate your next move. Looking down at his cock again, you lean in, water starting to soak into your hair, and swirl your tongue around his tip. The moment the two meet, he grunts again,

"Fuck..." He mutters under his breath, taking hold of your other hand and giving it a squeeze when your mouth envelopes him. His head falls back, but just as fast, it lulls back to look down at you, his eyes locked on your mouth as you gently bob your head,

"Gotta take me deeper baby. Make me cum." You do as you're told, taking his cock deep into your mouth until you gag. He growls, head thrown back. When his eyes find yours again, he clenches his jaw and you can see another, hidden bruise just under it that, if you didn't know any better, you would have thought was a hickey.

"Fuck... got myself so close before. Wanna cum so bad." You blink a few times, batting your lashes,

"Baby girl... don't do that," he practically growls through grit teeth, "I wanna fuck that pretty little face a bit more before I cum down your throat." There's no denying the whimper that slips from your throat at his dirty talk. He's damn good at it. And he knows it as a smile spreads wide across his face,

"Pretty thing. You like my dick in your mouth?" You nod around him, hollowing your cheeks and sticking your tongue out to run along the base. He hums,

"Keep it up... I'm gonna cum." You draw him from your mouth, stroking him,

"Take hold of my hair. Make me do what you like. I can handle it." He nods, tongue darting out to wet his lips again before he gathers every last hair of yours in his hands and presses you down, cursing as you gag around him. You're not even sure if what's running down your chin is water, or your own saliva trying to make his descent tolerable. His eyes roll back in his head at the sudden power shift, head falling back as his high licks at every nerve ending in his body. He gasps gently when you reach up, fondling his balls just the smallest bit. In no time, he was spilling his load onto your tongue with a throaty grunt. His head falls back into place, hand letting go of your hair and eyes on you once more,

"Gonna take it all for me baby?" He purrs. Pulling back until just the tip rests at the front of your tongue, you swallow the sticky substance, eyes cutting up to him. He reaches down, fingers falling around your chin and pulling you to stand straight. He turns the both of you, pressing you to the wall of the shower. You gasp inte his lips at how cold the tile is. He smiles, lips pressed firmly against yours,

"Lemme look at you," Leaning back, he licks his lips once more, "Jesus... I'm really rethinking this whole leaving you on read thing. You're stunning pretty girl." Placing his hand at your hip, he strokes up your side, grabbing a handful of your breast,

"Fuck..." Looking down at his still wrapped hand, you pull it from your skin, peeling the gauze off,

"Yeah? What makes you think I want you now?" You ask softly. He clicks his tongue,

"You wouldn't have come if you didn't want me. You wouldn't have dropped to your knees to work me through an adrenaline rush. You wouldn't BE HERE if you didn't want me still." Sliding his hand between your legs, you gasp when he finds your clit. He raises his eyebrows in a way to tell you he's proving his point. When you whimper, he opens his mouth just enough to show the tip of his tongue sliding over his teeth,

"How bout I take you out to where I had my last victory, make ya see stars of your own." He raises his eyebrows again, watching your mouth open,

"T-the ring? No... God no, w-what if we get caught." Tom rolls his eyes and tsks,

"You kidding? We're the only ones here." Running a hand through his hair, he sighs, turning the water off. Handing you a towel, he wraps one around himself, holding his hand out for you to take. You do, hesitantly, taking in a shaky breath. He chuckles,

"If you're that nervous... I won't let anyone see your body baby. I'll cover you." Nodding, he leads you towards the ring again, your hand clutching your towel tight to your chest. You're nervous and excited. For once, things are going your way. The man you've come to love, under all the scrapes and bruises, is leading you to where he had his umpteenth victory so you can have your first time together.

Following him up the small set of foam steps, he holds two of the ropes apart, licking his lips at the small beads of water that trickle down your back, sparkling like diamonds as they roll between your shoulder blades. Following you in, he watches you turn, staring out at the rows of seats that encapsulate the spotlit ring. Sighing through his nose, he blinks at you,

"What's it like? Being up here... knowing that the fate of your fan base... your life... rests in your own broken, bruised, bloody, torn up hands?" You ask. He gives a lopsided smirk, taking the last step forward to wrap his arms around you,

"Terrifying. Knowing... that the next punch... thrown or taken... could be my last. I could suffer... immeasurable damage that leaves me brain dead... dead altogether. It's like taking a breath... expecting each one to be your last." Turning your head to look at him, you frown and shake your head,

"Why do you do it then?" He scoffs turning away from you,

"For the adrenaline... god... you saw how hard I was. It's like that every time I step out of this ring. The money too... I needed the money bad when I first started. And now... now look at me. We could do this," gesturing between the both of you with his now unwrapped, knuckle swollen hand, he huffs again, "we could do this on a stack of cash I made just from tonight Y/N." He remarks,

"But I don't want the money Tom. All I want.. all I've ever wanted... was you. You get a quick fix out of all these fake bitches and they act like they care about you but... you could have had me. You wouldn't have to lay in bed, alone right after getting off. You wouldn't have to pick which one of these girls you take home. You could have me always. In every sense of the word. I would do anything for you." He hates the spotlight for showing him perfect tears in your eyes. He nods and walks towards you, hands stroking your hair down,

"I know. God... I know I could've had you. And I'm a dumbass for not taking you up on it but... I-I think I'm ready... I think I'm ready to make you mine... if the offer still stands." Staring up into his dark, lustrous eyes, you look across his bruised and beaten face. The cuts are always there. No matter how long it's been since a match, he has them. Scabbed over most times, but the bruises are something that are faded by the time he comes around again. His lip, busted, is all you've ever dreamed of kissing for the rest of your life. Him coming home after a match to collapse into bed, letting you kiss his wounds. Curling around you and falling asleep with gentle kisses to his forehead and fingers in his soft, unruly hair, his arms bound tight around your body, muscle shirt of his billowing off your body. Helping him into a bathtub filled with soapy bubbles and sliding in behind him to massage his tense shoulders and wash off the blood and grime while he rambles about his day with soft, loving eyes. Cooking him a high protein breakfast only for him to roll out of bed and find you in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around you, nuzzling his face in your hair and wishing you a good morning. And you didn't even want to think about him with kids. The idea terrified you. It excited you. It sent every emotion swirling in your brain. Him quirking an eyebrow draws you back to reality, his eyes dancing across your own face as you nod,

"Yes... yes, the offer still stands." You confirm. The corners of his lips quirk up and when his hands slip down to your cheeks, he leans in, his lips against yours in a moment. Reaching out, he tugs your towel free, discarding his own. Tugging himself, he places a hand at your lower back, pushing you to lay back down on the mat. The feeling resembles high school and it makes you shiver for a moment before his face appears over yours. Perched over you, he smiles,

"First time together, I'm not wearin a condom."

"Are you always this daring?" You quickly interject. He shakes his head, a cocky, toothy smirk carved across his lips,

"No... but then again... none of those other girls are my girlfriend. I-if you're really not up for it, I could uhm... go find one in my bag. I just figured... ya know... you're... on the pill so-" You nod, hands resting on his shoulders,

"It's fine. I'm just... nervous about... cleanliness if you were forgoing protection with EVERY girl." His eyes widen and he shakes his head,

"Oh no, baby," he scoffs, feeling a little foolish in himself, "I'm clean. Last time I was checked was about two weeks ago. If you wanna see my recor-" He stops when you drag him in for a kiss, features softening at the gesture. When he pulls back, he looks down at you,

"I trust you Holland." He stares down at you, a reassuring smile spreading across his face,

"Yeah?" You nod and he chuckles, glancing down between the two of you. You purse your lips, heart pounding out against your ribs as he slides two calloused fingers between your folds, dipping them inside of you,

"So wet. Are you this wet for me baby?" He purrs again. You nod, reaching up to clasp his shoulder and gasping. He smirks, staring down into your eyes as he slides his fingers in and out of you, reaching his thumb out to rub your clit,

"Like that? Want me inside you sweet thing?" You nod again, licking your lips. He hums before drawing his fingers out and taking them into his mouth. His eyes flutter shut as he sucks your juices from the digits,

"So sweet pretty girl. You taste amazing." Slipping between your thighs, you stare down at him, placing your hand over his own scabbed one on your hip. Pulling your knees up over his thighs, he rests a fist just beside you, the foam sinking in to support his weight. Licking his bottom lip, he guides the tip of his cock to your center before leaning over you completely. Dipping down to capture your lips with his own, he hums, pressing his hips down to slide into you. Tossing your hands over his shoulders, you gasp, fingertips dug into his tan, tense skin. He nuzzles his face in your neck, grunting as he bottoms out,

"Fuck... you a virgin? You're the tightest I've ever had baby." He asks. You giggle, kissing his temple,

"No... I just don't give up my goods to every man I meet, Holland." He chuckles, nipping at the skin of your neck,

"All mine now." He grumbles, leaning back just the smallest bit to gently glide in and out. Reaching down as you cry out, you grip his knees, scratching across the skin. He tips his head back,

"Fuck… the tighter the better with you darling. Gonna make me blow my load early." He growls. Your chest perks up when he gently glides in again and again, his tip prodding the special spot inside you and you can already feel it. You gasp and Tom speeds up, stroking across the bare skin of your thigh with the hand not supporting his weight beside your arm. His jaw clenches, the bruises flexing with the muscles in his face. Your back arches higher, Tom licking his lips at the sight of your breasts he's been dying to see for months. The sound of him sliding into you is intoxicating and it has you on cloud nine, eyes rolling back in your head,

"Fuck... oh fuck that feels so good." You whimper. Your body shakes, a hand sliding down between your scolding bodies to strum your clit. Your eyes find his face, his own dark, bruised eyes watching you touch yourself. His mouth is held open and he's speechless at the sight before him,

"Tom-" He glances up, searching your eyes for the new discontent, uncertainty he thinks he hears in your voice. You nod,

"I can take it... fuck me." You tell him. The way those words roll off your tongue has his thrusts stuttering. He's convinced he would have suddenly grown harder if it was humanly possible. He wants to change position desperately, but he wants to watch your tits bounce. Leaning back, he holds your thighs up over his, grip tight on the skin that goes white at the pressure, starting to lose blood flow. You whimper when he ruts up into you, your slick gushing out around him. His head lulls back as his jagged hips snap up into your thighs, whines and cries falling from your lips. He curses when your back arches, leaning down to nuzzle his face in your neck,

"You play with yourself pretty girl? You toy with yourself thinking of me?" He asks in his husky voice. You nod, digging your nails into his shoulders. Your eyes are gently closed, Tom pumping into you at a grueling speed,

"You won't have to ever again. I've got you." He grunts into your already heated skin. He drags your hands from his back, pressing his own to them against the mat below you. You moan and whimper, holding the backs of his thighs with your heels as he rocks into you, your shoulders screeching along the mat. You give his hands a squeeze, fingers laced together as you raise your head to seek out his lips. Sure you've given him quick pecks, but never something like you're looking for. Never a full, heartfelt kiss that leaves you both wanting more.

The second your lips meet, Tom stops pumping into you, intoxicated with the way you taste, the way your lips feel. When he frees your hands to hold your sides, your hands slip to his cheeks. He presses your shoulders down against the mat, lips covering yours. His tongue slips between your lips, dipping along your own which you welcome with a purr. He draws back slightly, his lips just gently grazing yours. When he pulls back, you stare at each other for a moment, his eyes darting between yours in wonder,

"Wow." He gasps out. You smile softly,

"What?" You ask, stroking the unruly curls from his forehead. He turns his cheek into your palm,

"I've been with… lots of other girls and none of 'em feel like you." You stare up at him,

"You're such a wild card, is that a good or bad thing that none of them feel like me?" He smiles as you cock your head, hair shifting beneath you on the mat, his mind running a mile a minute as he strives to answer,

"Good for you I guess. Bad for them... and me."

"Why is it bad for you?" You quiz with a giggle. He huffs breathlessly, leaning in on his elbow to stroke your goosebumped side,

"Because that means I'm already whipped." He coos, eyes locked in yours. The same smile that creeps onto your lips makes its way onto his features before you flip the both of you over. Clambering into his lap, his calloused, bruised hands slide along your legs, holding you over him. He swallows as he watches you, head raising from the mat to watch you guide him back inside of you. He moans, head thunking back against the mat as you squeeze him gently with your tight, wet heat. Your head lulls back and Tom can only imagine getting to bruise the soft skin of your collarbones and neck after every successful fight and every weekend for the rest of his life. When your hands rest on his stomach, nails raking across the valleys of his abs, he hisses,

"Ahh fuck babes. God you feel so good." He moans, your eyes diverted down to his bruised, beaten face as you gently move back against him. He presses his lips in a line, pressing his feet to the mat below him. Your hands splay out across his chest, his own calloused hands slipping down to hold your butt. He forces you down around him, the both of you working in tandem. The way your damp hair falls over your shoulders and your mouth is held open to release all of the beautiful moans Tom's brain records has his head spinning. He's in love with everything about you in this moment, he loves the way you look, the way you sound, the way you feel around him. It's intoxicating and he wants nothing more than to have all of this for the rest of his life. You tip your head back, letting Tom grab onto whatever skin he can of yours. You hum, digging your nails into his pecs,

"Fuck yes darling, look at you, fucking stunning." He growls, watching your hands slide along his body, eyes traveling the tan skin you want to kiss every inch of. You want all of him and he wants the same, watching you cup your breasts in your hands, rolling your own nipples between your fingers, hair a mess but you look heavenly above him, letting out little whimpers and moans. He curses softly, your eyes finding his. You reach down, placing your hands just over his shoulders on the mat, your lips hovering over his. He stares up into your eyes, hands placed over your hips, raising his head after a moment to kiss you, hand slipping up to the back of your neck, holding you in place to kiss you. You hum into it, pulling back after a moment to stare into his eyes again,

"You're an ass Holland." You mutter. He chuckles,

"Why's that darling?" He asks as you sit back up, hands on your thighs,

"Because I'm so fucking in love with you and you keep giving me the run around." You remark. He gives a soft smile,

"I promise, scouts honor, I'll stop, okay? I'll be yours." He swears. You smile, moving back against him again, his hands slipping to your hips again, lips pressed into a line. Tom's hands slip up behind his head as you bounce a little faster, moaning as he meets the perfect spot inside of you, your head tipping back. He watches you play with your breasts again, wondering what you'd look like the second, third, fifth, tenth time fucking him like this. How much more comfortable your body would be with him after all that time.

After another moment, you stand up straight, Tom glancing up between your legs with raised brows and a hand that drifts upright, hum slipping from his lips as he sits up and scoots closer, eyes meeting yours just before his lips wrap around your clit, tongue darting out to slide inside of you. You throw your head back, moaning as he licks and sucks at your folds, devouring you completely. He hums, pulling back,

"Fuck you're gorgeous. So fucking perfect. Taste and all." He growls, reaching between your legs to swat at your ass which draws a squeal from your throat. You giggle as he picks himself up, taking your wrist into his hand and guiding you to a corner post of the ring. Stepping up behind you, you bend slightly, holding the post and pulling a foot up to hook into the ropes, Tom humming as he places a hand at your lower back, the other placed over your butt which he swats again to hear you giggle. He smiles, stepping forward to slide his cock through your folds, pressing into you successfully which draws a hum from your throat. He leans in to kiss your cheek,

"I don't ever wanna give this up." He admits, leaning down to kiss your shoulder, your head tilting back,

"Well if you're smart, you don't have to." You reply. He hums, gently moving his hips, hand not wrapped around your shoulders reaching down to strum your clit. You gasp and whimper, Tom moaning as you clench around him,

"Such a good girl. So beautiful." He purrs, smiling softly as you work back against him,

"Faster Tommy... I wanna cum." You moan, Tom speeding up immediately as he strokes your clit, sucking a mark into your shoulder,

"Cum for me baby. Whenever you feel it, you can cum." He reassures, letting you find your own sweet spot with his tip, guiding him along as he gathers a fistful of your hair to gently, reassuringly tug. You hum, letting him take the initiative to pound into you, remaining in the perfect place to strike your g-spot each time. You whimper,

"Tommy-"

"Cum for me darling." He cuts in huskily in your ear. You hum again, closing your eyes as his hand leaves your hair and slides down to grasp your breast, squeezing and molding it into his palm,

"So perfect love." He growls, leaning in to kiss and suck at your neck, your hand slipping up into the soft curls he sports. You cry out, the noise reverberating around the room as he strikes your sweet spot and strums your clit with such precision, you're understanding how he wins all of his matches. He grunts each time you clench down around him, knowing you're about to cum and begging for it in your ear. Just before you cum, you tip your head back, moaning out his name again. Your legs quake as you cry out and moan, cumming around Tom. He grunts once more, guiding you through it reassuringly,

"That's my good girl. Such a good girl." He coos as your orgasm ebbs away. He draws from inside you, jerking himself off as he guides you to your knees, holding your shoulder as he jerks himself off, knees going weak just before his cock shoots thick, warm streams of cum across your chest and tongue. He hums, watching you lap it up, head falling back for a moment as he softens. You smirk before he looks down at you, grabbing his hand and pulling him down to sit before you. You crash your lips to his, a choked noise leaving your throat as he places his hands at your hips. Pulling yourself into his lap, he hums, wrapping his arms around you. When you pull back, his eyes dart between yours,

"I love you." He suddenly mutters, smiling lopsidedly as you blink down at him, somewhat surprised. He rubs across your lower back,

"You don't have to say it, but I'm fucking grateful for you. Every time I feel that you're here, it just let's me know I can win up here. I'm in love with you and I can't-

"I love you too." You quickly interject. His mouth hangs open again before he snaps it shut and nods,

"Awesome... yeah, I love you a whole lot." You caress his jaw as you lean in to kiss him again. He hums into it,

"Come... home with... me." He implies between kisses. You shrug and nod,

"Sure." He smiles, laying you back on the mat, listening to you giggle,

"No more running you around, okay? If you go out, I'll come out with you. We can kiss and hug and text and hold hands and I'll get you backstage passes and everything. I just want you." He admits, closing his eyes as you run your fingers through his hair. You nod,

"I'm yours Tommy." You reassure. He nods and sighs, leaning in to kiss you once more. Turning to look at the towels on the mat around you. He licks his lips,

"Guess we could take a shower at my place. It's a lot smaller so you can't escape me." He jokes, leaning in to kiss your nose. He stands straight, your eyes wandering his toned, naked body,

"How can you be the cutest, and the sexiest man all at one time Tom Holland?" You pose, watching him turn at the waist, shooting you a smile,

"I mean... its my natural look baby girl." He purrs. You stand, sighing as he turns around, tucking his towel around his waist. He looks you over, licking his lips,

"I can definitely get used to havin you around all the time." You roll your eyes,

"Yeah, I get it Tom, you're a flirt." You pick up your towel, binding it around yourself before he steps forward again, capturing your chin between his fingers, bowing to kiss you once more. His nose nudges yours before he pulls back,

"I can't wait to kiss you for the rest of my life." He mutters, breath fanning your face. You smile, reaching up to squeeze his muscular bicep,

"And that, my good sir, is how you get yourself laid again." He chuckles,

"Good to know." Following you through the ropes again, he sighs, taking your hand and guiding you back to the locker room, cheesy, proud smirk etched across his face at the fact that you're his, finally. And it only took sex to get you to that point. But you're not complaining.

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833 notes · View notes

chansungies · 4 years

Text

Tiny Giant (M)

pairing: volleyball player! Jisung x female reader

genre: tiny angst in the beginning, smut

warnings: some swearing, jealous!jisung, possessive!jisung, some dirty talk, locker room sex, female receiving, edging, overstimulation, unprotected sex (wrap it up kiddos), soft dom!jisung, sub!reader, also hyunjin makes a tiny apperance :)

word count: 1,778

a/n: yeah i got inspo from haikyuu :)

————————————🏐—————————————

24-24.

Your eyes move from the scoreboard to scan the court below you looking for the tiny ace, your ears heard him before your eyes saw him. Jisung had belched out a roar over successfully spiking the ball through the wall of hands trying to block him.

“Nice job, Jisung!” The team cheered with bright smiles on their sweaty faces. He nods, a smirk plastered on his face and they rotate putting Jisung in the back to serve.

The tension in the auditorium is at its highest knowing that if Jisung messes up now, it’s game over and they lose the tournament.

Other words of encouragement are thrown out to calm him down and not to overthink his serve. You find yourself biting your nails in anticipation as he throws the ball up, takes a quick few steps, and SMACK! You follow the ball closely as it goes over the net and someone for the opposite team receives it handing it straight to their setter. They all wait carefully, their eyes trained on the opponents anticipating how they’ll attack.

The other team starts running up towards the net all together in a synchronized attack. They all jump up in unison and someone from the way back comes out of nowhere and spikes the ball. Time seems to slow down, everyone’s holding their breath as they’re watching the ball hit the net and fall back on the opponent’s side. There’s a quick moment of silence before the whistle blows and ref holds up the flag.

25-24. They won.

Not even seconds later the crowd went wild with whistles and hollers. You could feel the tears to swell in your eyes and you have the biggest grin on your face. You make eye contact with Jisung sending him a wave and a thumbs up. Grinning up at you his eyes are sparkling in the bright lights and you want nothing more than to rush down there and tackle him in a bear hug. Your little moment is ruined by his teammates gathering around him and then proceeding to pick him chanting “Tiny giant!” You can see the tears threaten to spill from the team’s eyes and the coaches as they toss him into the air. You see Jisung’s eyes go wide in a slight panic which makes you giggle.

You watch them receive their award and listen to the emotional speeches from the soon to be graduates, thanking them for the wonderful year they’ve had and for letting them play volleyball for as long as they could. Everyone’s a sobbing mess at this point but they all have smiles on their faces, while others awkwardly laugh not knowing how to handle their emotions quite yet. It a warm feeling seeing them all like this.

They exit the court after a bow to fans in the stands and mighty “Thank you for coming!” following close after. You make your way down the stairs waiting patiently for Jisung to be done in the locker room. You see them all file out one by one but Jisung. You furrow your eyebrows and stand on your tippy-toes attempting to look over the giant players’ heads, when you make eye contact with one of his friends, Hyunjin. He smiles and walks over to you.

“Y/N!” He greets you with a dazzling smile and soaking wet blonde hair.

You smile back, “Hyunjin! Congratulations!” You squeal and go to give him a small hug. He chuckles hugging you back. “Thanks!”

You pull away slowly, “Hey, by the way, have you-“

There was a sudden tug on your arm as someone snaked their arm around your waist pulling you closer protectively. Glancing beside you, you noticed it was just Jisung but he had a scowl on his face as he looked up at Hyunjin. You look over at Hyunjin who is unfazed by Jisungs’ glare and you look back at Jisung smiling trying to break the tension. “Hey! I was just looking for you!” You say and poke his chest lightly.

He turns his head towards you with an emotionless expression, “Sure looks like it.” he says coldly.

You frown, “I was, but then Hyunjin came over so I congratulated him. I was just about to ask him where you were when you grabbed me.” You pull away from him annoyed. Hyunjin looks between you two and decided it was best if he leaves so he doesn’t cause any more trouble.

“I-I’ll see you guys later.” He stutters and awkwardly walks away to bother another one of his teammates.

Glaring over at Jisung you ask, “What in the hell is wrong with you?”

Jisung huffs, “What’s wrong with me? How about what’s wrong with you, you were all over Hyunjin.” He bites back.

Is he seriously jealous right now, you thought? After such an amazing win he’s jealous over you hugging Hyunjin. You can’t help but laugh at how ridiculous he’s being. “Jisung, are you serious?”

Your laugh seems to fuel him ever more and he grabs your wrist dragging you to the empty locker room, pushing you against the hard wall. You’re eyes widen and you feel your heartbeat quicken.

“Is this serious enough for you, kitten.” He growls and pushes himself onto you. You feel his boner poking through his shorts and you couldn't help the whine that escapes your lips.

He smirks bending down and planting rough, wet kisses along your neck, his breath tickling your sensitive skin. Your eyes close relishing the feeling of his lips abusing your neck with harsh sucks and tiny nibbles. You hiss and he licks over the mark to soothe it. He pulls back looking at his masterpiece and hums."Maybe we should show this to Hyunjin? Let him know you're all mine."

He moves his lips up to yours and kisses you roughly while sneakily bringing his hand to your thigh and pushing them apart so he can rub you through your shorts. This pushes a moan out you that you couldn't hold back and you surprise him by unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts so he could get closer to where you wanted him most.

He chuckles darkly at your actions, “Is that what you want baby? You want me to touch you?” Jisung stares into your eyes intensely and all you can do is nod your head in response.

He shakes his head at that, “You have to tell me, use your words.” He removes his hands from your thigh and you whine.

“Yes! Yes, please touch me Jisung.” You plead.

“Good girl.” He praises and kisses the side of your mouth before inserting his hand down your pants. Jisung rubs gentle circles over your clit making you weak in the knees. He catches you, picking you and up laying you down one of the benches, not the comfiest but better than on the floor. He continues the pleasure sliding your shorts and underwear off and inserting one of his fingers into your soaked hole while his thumb rubs over your clit.

“You’re so wet, baby. Who makes you this wet?” He asks pushing his finger in and out of you slowly.

“Y-you do.”

“That’s right, I do. Only I can make you feel this good.” Jisung states and curls his finger inside you. You moan loudly and he echos across the locker room.

“Fuck,” He groans, “Right there baby? You like that?”

“Right there, yes, more,” You cry and bite your lip.

Jisung adds another finger and goes faster with his movements causing you to clench around his fingers. He smirks knowing your close, your breathing is shaky and your thighs are trembling. You’re so close. Jisung then removes his fingers from inside you and you let out a whine.

“Shhh, baby, I’ll let you cum. Just not on my fingers.” You hear the teasing in his voice and you want to get up and slap him but you’re a good girl, no back talk. You just nod with a frown on your face which makes Jisung chuckle. He kisses your frown and pulls his pants down to his ankles and positions himself over you. You watch as his dick springs up slapping against his stomach and you gulp.

“You’re so pretty, y/n.” Jisung randomly compliments distracting you and a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“You’re pretty too,” You tell him and smile sweetly.

He takes your hand in his and pushes himself into you and groans nuzzling his head in the crook of your neck. “O-oh shit, y/n, so tight.” He also gives you a second to adjust but you could honestly care less about that. You grind your hips into him and he moans right in your ear. You had never heard anything more beautiful in your life. “Jisung, move, please. I- I need you so bad.” You edge him on, and that gave Jisung just the ego boost he needed to start snapping his hips in and out of you.

“Hmmm, Sungie feels so good.” You moan gripping onto his bicep. You can see the sweat forming on his forehead and it starting to drip down his neck making him glisten. Fuck, he looked so hot. His long orange hair swaying with every thrust he gave, this was all enough to put you over the edge.

“Oh, so so close Jisung,” You whine.

“M-me too,” He says breathlessly, and you can tell because his thrust are getting sloppy and he’s stuttering. He lets go of your hand and brings it down to rub roughly on your clit and you feel like you’ve hit euphoria, a sudden wave of pleasure washed over you and you let out a loud moan releasing your cum all over his cock. Jisung groans and thrusts a few more times into you causing you to cringe at the overstimulation. He pulls out quickly and starts to jerk himself off over you, sliding your cum up and down his cock. He lets out a breathy moan and spills out all over your stomach.

Jisung flops on top of you and you wrap your arms around him stroking his damp hair. He lays there for a few seconds before kissing your shoulder and getting back up sliding his shorts back on. You lay there still catching your breath when you feel Jisung hair tickle your thighs and his tongue licking up the mess you made. You shudder and squish you’re legs together capturing him in between your thighs.

“Ugh,” You groan and scrunch your face. He giggles between your thighs and pushes your legs away from your head.

“Freak,” You chuckle and he shrugs helping you pull your shorts back up.

“Hold on,” he says and walks over to his locker pulling out a towel. He comes back over and wipes your stomach clean of his sticky cum. “There you go,” Jisung says barely above a whisper. You nod and sit up from the bench a smile at him. He’s looks so pretty post sex, it’s like he’s glowing.

“Congratulations, my Tiny Giant.”

#jisung smut #han jisung smut #stray kids smut #han jisung #jisung x reader #volleyball jisung #jisung fic #haikyuu #anime

188 notes · View notes

lotusss-flowerbomb · 4 years

Text

What We Have (2)

Viktor Drago x reader

Warnings: Smut

Summary: Reader is Adonis’ adopted sister, she and Viktor falls for one another.

A/N: There is unprotected sex in this story. Remember this is fiction, so in real life, make them wrap that before you let them tap that, babe. Please keep in mind, as to not completely butcher the Russian language, everything in bold italics is Russian. Hope you guys enjoy!!

Word Count: 2,362

********

You got dressed and headed to the arena. You hadn't heard from Adonis yet, but you knew as a part of his ritual that he didn't watch any TV or get on social media before a match.

The stares and the whispers were upsetting, but Dennis stood by your side like the good friend that he is. You went to Viktor first to get a few words before the fight.

When you entered the locker room, Ivan stood and was on his way over to you. He looked menacing and every muscle in your body tried to force you to run, but you wouldn't let him see you waver. Viktor stopped his father and came to you instead.

"Here to make me look like a monster again?" His face looked like stone, but you heard the small quiver in his voice.

"I did not edit or approve that final cut. I would have never done that. No matter what, I'm serious about my job and true to who I am." You tried to explain.

He looked you up and down. The hurt in his eyes was ever present.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because why wouldn't I want to show the world that behind this tough guy exterior, you’re just a giant softy?" You shrugged.

He softened for just a split second, but as always he quickly regained his composure.

"Ask your questions and leave," Ivan said from behind him.

You rolled your eyes at him and asked Dennis to start rolling. You did your introduction first and then asked Viktor one question.

"What's your goal tonight, Viktor? Let the world know what it is that you hope to accomplish since that part of the interview never made the cut." You pushed the mic towards him.

"The only thing that I wish to accomplish tonight.... Is breaking your brother," he said and walked away.

Ivan smirked at his son and clapped him on the back.

Dennis stopped the camera.

"Why did you do that?" You asked him.

"Because this guy and his father are assholes and we need to see the champ before the match," he said loud enough for the men to hear.

Dennis was no fighter and wouldn't stand a chance against either of the Dragos, but he was your friend and he would always stand up for you when needed.

The two of you left to go see Adonis before his introduction. When you got to his locker room Duke stopped you and stared you down.

"I don't wanna hear it Duke. I did something stupid and it was caught on camera. There's nothing I can do about it now." You said to him.

"We ain't tell him nothing, because we want him to be at his best for this fight, but when it's over you got a lot of explaining to do," he moved out of your way and let you in.

You went inside and spoke with your brother, wished him luck and gave him a big hug.

"Yo, you good?" He looked at you concerned. He'd always been able to tell when something was wrong with you.

"Yeah, you know I'm always a little nervous before you fight." It wasn't a total lie.

"Don't worry, sis, I got this." He shadow boxed the air a bit and even smiled a little.

You bumped fists with his gloves before leaving and going to your seats.

You watched as Viktor hopped around in the ring. You took a deep breath and locked eyes with him. You averted your gaze when Adonis’ entrance music started playing.

You joined the crowed in cheering for the champ. Bianca stood by you a nervous wreck. You gave her hand a tight squeeze and smiled before resuming your cheering.

You watched as Adonis threw the first few punches after the starting bell. Victor wasn't even trying to hit back the first few seconds.

"Careful Dee, he's baiting you!" You yelled.

The moment you said that, Viktor started in on him. He had him backed into the ropes when the first bell rang.

When the second round started Viktor came in hot. You don't know what Ivan had said to him, but he wasted no time throwing hammers.

Your breath caught in your throat when your brother fell through the ropes. The entire crowd jumped to their feet.

"Come on, Dee, you got this!" You shouted when he stood.

Viktor landed one big punch to his ribs and Adonis dropped. He stood back up and kept taking hits, but was once again saved by the bell.

"He's not gonna let you call it, Duke," you said aloud when he climbed in to talk to him.

You looked over at the other corner and Ivan was yelling at Viktor.

The bell rang for round three and both men went in swinging. You knew it was over when Victor hit him in the ribs again. Adonis dropped to the mat and Viktor hit him with an uppercut.

You jumped over the divider and ran into the ring. You dropped to your knees by your brother's side as the doctors checked him. You turned to see Duke trying to keep Bianca back.

You stood and ran over to Viktor who watched from the other side.

"He was already down!" You screamed and smacked him across the face.

You were about to hit him again when you were pulled back by the ref and restrained. Duke grabbed you.

"I know you're upset. I know, but you gotta chill. I need you to get B outta here." He tried to talk some sense into you.

You looked over at your sister-in-law and calmed immediately. You took her outside, so you could follow the ambulance to the hospital.

You were in your office waiting for Viktor to arrive. You tapped your foot and looked at your watch again. He was 40 minutes late.

You were already upset that your boss was making you still do a post fight interview with him. He didn't care that the man literally tried to kill your brother just a few days earlier. He also didn't care about the constant gossip surrounding you. You wanted this and you got it.

"I don't think he's coming," Dennis said.

"Neither do I. You can go home," you informed him.

"Are you sure? I have no problem waiting for you to finish whatever needs to get done."

"I'm sure. A few minutes alone will do me some good, besides, I'll only be about a half hour, so I'm right behind you."

"Okay, well, good night," he waved and shut the door.

You flopped down in your chair and closed your eyes. Moments later you heard a knock at the door.

"Hey, did you forget... something..." Your words trailed off when you opened the door and saw Victor staring back at you.

"Sorry I'm late, I —"

"Your excuses aren't needed," you turned to walk away. "Your time window has expired and there is no longer a reason for you to be here. Goodbye."

His hand reached out for your wrist. You stopped in your tracks and looked down at him.

"Can we talk, please?" He asked, softly. He didn't wait for you to answer. He stepped in and closed the door.

"Let me go," you tugged.

"Please?"

"If you wanted to talk, Mr. Drago, you would have shown up on time for your session. I would like for you to let go of me, now!" You snatched away.

"I wish you would just listen to me!" He raised his voice slightly.

"Oh, so what, are you gonna hit me now?!"

"I would never, you know that's not who I am!"

"You almost murdered my brother. I don't know who you are." You walked away to your desk and sat in your chair.

He put his hand on the knob and stopped himself from opening the door. You heard him inhale and exhale loudly.

"I am sorry. I never should have done that and I never meant to hurt you." He walked over and kneeled in front of you. He laid his head in your lap. "My father... he said some things to me in the corner and I just lost it."

"Tell me," you said.

He was quiet at first, but then he started speaking again.

"He said, 'That's why she left us.'"

"Your mother?"

"Yes..."

"I heard him tell Rocky."

"She left and never looked back. When he said that, I just lost my mind."

You lifted his head so he would look at you. His eyes were so sad.

"It doesn't excuse what you did, but you being vulnerable like this is making it very difficult for me to not just hate you." You told him.

"I'm so sorry," he said as he stood to his feet. "I just wanted to let you know. I couldn't leave tomorrow without telling you."

He pulled you up and wrapped his arms around you for a hug. You let go of him and put your hand in his to walk him to the door. He pulled you back and kissed you.

He pushed his tongue into your mouth and you could feel his big hands gripping your ass. You tore yourself away.

"No, Viktor, I can't do this."

He grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up, so you'd wrap your legs around his waist.

"I don't care what people say. I want you."

He laid you back on your desk and went in for another kiss. You could feel his length pressing against his jeans.

He pushed your skirt up and ran his fingers over your lace covered clit.

"Mmm," you moaned as you sucked his tongue into your mouth.

He pulled you to the edge of the desk and lifted your legs. He kneeled in front of you and pulled your panties to the side exposing your pussy and used two fingers to rub in between your folds and spread your wetness around.

"Look at that pretty pussy," he said, just before standing and sliding your underwear off and stuffing them into his pocket.

He got back down on his knees and put a hand on each thigh to ensure you won't close them.

You were feeling exposed. You were on your desk and wide open to this man.

Viktor bit your thigh lightly and pulled you from your thoughts. You then felt his warm tongue press against your clit. Every worry you had disappeared in that moment.

He licked and sucked your pussy like the sweet treat that it is. He used his tongue to fuck your cunt and his thumb to rub circles on your clit.

"Viktor, baby, I'm gonna cum." You warned.

He never slowed his pace. You moved his hand and rubbed your clit fiercely.

"Oh my go—" you screamed as your pussy squirted all over him.

Viktor stopped and watched in amazement. He hadn't been with many women, but he definitely thought squirting only happened in porn.

Once you'd stopped, he stood, wiped off his face and kissed you.

"That was so fucking sexy," he growled.

You pulled his shirt over his head while he worked his jeans and pushed them down. You wrapped your hand around his thickness and circled your awaiting tunnel with the head before he pushed in.

"Mm, fuck!" You dug your nails into his neck.

"You're so tight, printsessa," he sighed.

He hit you with hard strokes. You could feel the desk shifting and surely by the time you were finished, it would be on the other side of the room.

"Yes, baby fuck me!"

He buried his face in your neck. You could hear him moaning as he gripped your thighs and drilled your pussy. The office was filled with the sound of your love making.

You pushed him off of you. He looked confused until you told him to sit down in your chair. You put your feet on the sides of his legs and held on to the arms of the chair. He guided his throbbing cock back inside of you. His eyes rolled as you sank down onto him.

You bounced on his dick. He undid the buttons on your shirt and watched as your tits bounced up and down before leaning in to place soft kisses on each. You grabbed his jaw and brought his lips to yours.

He rubbed your clit as your tongues darted in and out of one another's mouths.

"Yes, rub that pussy," you chanted. "Oooh, yes!"

Your legs were starting to give out as you neared your orgasm.

"Come on, printsessa keep going," he encouraged.

You hissed as the damn of pleasure swept over you. He kept rubbing your clit as you surfed the waves of your bliss.

When he stopped he grabbed your hips and drove himself into you. You kissed him as his grip tightened and he coated your pussy with his seed.

You dropped to your knees on his lap and laid your head on his shoulder. You could feel his heart beating with yours.

The room was quiet as you both thought about what this meant. You finally got up once you regained feeling in your legs and went to the bathroom in your office to clean up. Viktor redressed himself and was waiting for you to return.

"I feel like we probably broke so many unwritten laws just now," you joked.

"Yeah..." He shrugged.

"What's wrong?" You asked when he didn't say anything else.

"The next fight... Will you be in my corner?"

The smile that was on your face dropped.

"Excuse me?"

He walked closer to you and held your hands in his. He looked into your eyes sincerely.

"I want you to be in my corner," he said.

"No," you snatched away from him. "It's bad enough that I just fucked you on my desk after what you did and now you want me to throw it in my brother's face?"

"But what we have, it's —"

"It's wrong, Viktor. It's wrong and we both know it."

"Okay," he said, sounding defeated.

He kissed your forehead and left without looking back.

********

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mysterylover123 · 4 years

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Mysterylover watches Bleach Episodes 114-115

mysterylover123

1. Since calling him “Not L” is getting awkward I’ll refer to Ulquiorra by name from now on.

2. Hime angsts over not being strong enough to protect Tatsuki. Ichi is a good friend by her and tells her “no need” then does the flashy shonen power up thing. (I want these two to kick ass as hero douo so badly”

3. Also Damn Hime looks good in this scene. (and of course she gets told to run off by Ichi. Dammit I thought we were done benching her!)

4. Ulqui just basically stands on the side and analyzes how Ichi is Going Over 9000 and shit. Wow this really is the Saiyan arc. But with Ichigo’s HollowSona twist! OMG! It’s coming. Holy crap.

5. Hime gets smacked down, I’m assuming so that Ichigo can go “How dare you that’s my HIME” and flip out on these guys. (that’s the last Dragon Ball ref I swear)

6. Yoruichi and Urahara show up! Yay! Mentor duo. Go save them. And Yoru takes him on like the BAMF she is. Good, I was worried the ladies were gonna get benched again. (And WOW she really is tougher than our lead isn’t she? She takes NotNappa down in like 3 kicks.)

7. Ulqui just standing there with his hands in his pockets being utterly unflappable and cool. And Yoru goes and takes care of Hime. Aw! (And Ulqui is now fed up with his dumbass sidekick and like “screw this we’re outta here.” Oh yeah we like him.)

8. Oh Damn Ichi covered in bandages and looking just defeated. And clearly done with Teddy Bear Mineta’s shit. (as am I). We’re in the Ichigo Has Angst arc now aren’t we? (and aren’t you cold, dude? Lying around in your underwear while it’s raining outside?)

9. ORIHIME IS SERIOUSLY INJURED?! Holy crap. Her Harem is worried about her. Tatsuki is brooding. Ichigo is worried about her and tries to make her feel better. Hime tried to make him feel better but he’s mad at himself for not protecting them. I’m kinda impressed that he’s not immediately running off and doing something stupid in response to this. The typical Shonen protagonist schtick is not gonna cut it here.

10. RENJI IS HERE RENJI IS HERE RENJI IS HERE HOLY CRAP YAS YAS YAS YAS. And the Boob redhead + Discount Saitama + Hitsu + Pretty one. YAY reunions. AND SPEAKING OF REUNIONS RUKIA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

11. And she immediately kicks Ichi in the face while Renji holds him. The couple that fights together...beats Ichigo up together apparently. Also this Soul Reaper Squad is hilarious.

12. LOL Ruki riding on Ichi’s back like he’s a horse or a bike or something. And her Hollow Radar locates one immediately. Which instantly activates Ichi’s HollowSona. I get the feeling that Ichi’s just gonna have to lean into it from now on.

13. Hm, Rukia is doing a good job helping Ichi get over his Hollow Angst. Over great music. BROTP at the very least. I think this may be the first time I’ve really gotten some inkling of why the fandom is into these two as a ship rather than just as friends. Like, cause Ichi was so down and she effortlessly got him out of it.

14. RUKIA AND ORIHIME MEET UP AGAIN TOO. Oh and these two are also flirting like crazy. Damn everyone in this gang has such great chemistry.

15. Redhead girl’s boob shirt is really distracting. And they keep having camera closeups on them just to remind you. We have a Big Boob girl in the cast now, just in case you forgot.

16. OMG and of course their conversation sounds like they’re talking about his dick, freaking out Ichigo’s dad and sister. And wow Karin is so freaking gay, the way she’s talking about Tatsuki and Orihime.

17. RENJI’S ALSO HERE. Along with the gang, who somehow snuck into Ichigo’s ceiling. Why did Ruki take a normal route and the others didn’t.

18. Renji and Ruki sit on the bed to give exposition together of course. “I was closer to Rukia than most” gee you don’t say Rukia’s future husband?

19. So the Arrancar are gonna attack with really dangerous hollows and their leader is Glasses douche. Dammit why couldn’t Ulqui be their leader? He’s so much cooler (so far at least). And the top powerful hollows are OP apparently so we should have some cool battles coming up.

20. Ooh final scene Ulqui and NotNappa meeting up with a bunch of shadowy figures and Glasses Douche. (I so hope Ulqui gets a klingon promotion this arc.) And Glasses Douche has abandoned his glasses so I guess I have to call him by his name now dammit.

#Bleach #mysterylover watches bleach #orihime inoue #ichigo kurosaki #ulquiorra cifer #tatsuki #urahara kisuke #yoruichi shihouin #rukia kuchiki #renji abarai #rukia's back!#along with all her ships #renruki #ichiruki #rukihime #missed her #arrancar arc #let's go

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treadmilltreats · 3 years

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The Derrick Jaxn lie

So of course you know I had to write about this otherwise I would be a hypocrite. If you follow me you know I post a lot about Derrick Jaxn. If you don't know who he is, he is a writer, Youtuber and social media celebrity who became known to the public for the first time back in 2012 on his blog. It was there that he revealed the mistakes that caused him to lose his college sweetheart, Da’Nai. The couple eventually got back together, got married and started a family.

Jaxn chronicled their story on social media. He has become well-known for revealing the strategies he said strengthened their relationships and for sharing relationship advice with the masses.

I followed him, I reposted his stuff, I bought his book, I was a huge fan of this man.

And rightfully so, I was upset when it recently came out that he definitely didn't do what he preached. That he was selling me and millions of other women his pretty bagged up bullshit and we were all buying it.

For me and many others who followed him, we thought that here was this man that was really spilling the dirt on into other men. That he was out there telling on the other half, teaching us lessons about cheating, lying men.

Of course he was, because he was one of them! How sad is it that you are telling women all over the world, who spend millions of dollars on your brand about their self worth and how you should never stay with a man that's a

"Fuckboy" his words, not mine.

How your value is worth more than that and how these men need to grow up and to change and here he was doing the same thing to his wife, his children, and his family. Yes, his wife, who he recently paraded out to the world saying that she forgave him and so should we. Well, she may have been understanding (Which by the way she didn't look like it to me as I watched) but I was not as understanding because it feels like to me and many other women out there that he thinks the ends justify the means. He thinks he is above reproach, that he could just come out here and say do what I say not as I do.

Which is pure bullshit and while his wife may buy it, many of his followers including me, are not

I feel sorry for his wife because she sat there looking sorry to say….so dumpy, preaching about God's word so she could justify his horrible behavior.

I could see that she was a defeated woman because I had that look once not so long ago. Here she was standing up with him on his behalf because I would imagine that he wanted to shine up, to shit shine his brand because he knows that most of his followers are women. And this my friends was pure business, this was pure PR for him and his brand.

You really have to have big ball's to go around preaching about faithfulness and truthfulness, while you are out there with not just one, not just two but three other women. Yes, three other women have stepped forward so far.. So you are out there screwing these three women on the side until you got caught because and only because you got caught, now you are sitting beside your wife, crying that Jesus changed you and how you want to make it work, brother please, we don't believe you.

You sold us a bag of goods just like all these other scumbags out here did. You capitalized on our feelings, our emotions. You pretended to be on our side, sympathising with us, calling men out on our behalf and here you were laughing with the money we sent you, with not one but three other side chick's, you Derrick, are the biggest "Fuckboy" of them all.

Now a word to the side chick's, you're no better either and don't say you didn't know who he was or that he was married because it takes a 2 minute Google search to find out everything including their favorite color underwear, of a celebrity. So peddle that bullshit somewhere else, with him. You knew from the jump and you did not care. You are as bad as he is, worst in fact because you could have been a real woman and walked away from tearing a family apart. Yes, there would have been other ho's that did it but where is your moral compass? You need to own the fact that it was you and you didn't care about another woman's family. So you are just as guilty but in your eyes you got your 15 minutes of fame so it's all good.

My heart goes out to this obviously abused wife, who stayed and believed his bullshit lies once again. Yes, folks this was not his first time cheating on her and she stayed yet again.

If you watched his apology video she looks like she doesn't care, she has no strength to leave this lying sack of shit and with his tight grip of her hand and her body language you can clearly see that she is defeated. I truly hope she sees her value and she gets the help she needs and leaves this abusive marriage because it is obvious that this man will never change. She needs to take her husband's advice that he has given to so many women and kick his lying ass to the curb.

So today my friends I will end this with a note to Mr. Derrick Jaxn, the world's biggest con artist. I hope you are proud of yourself, duping all these women out here who believed in you, who trusted you, who made you who you are and paid for your fancy lifestyle. To a man who promoted truth and faithfulness and family values, you are just another "Fuckboy" playing with women's feelings. Way to go brother….

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