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#sometimes I feel like the title could be better
just-a-creep-babe · 2 days
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Hello! How would Jeff, laughing Jack and Masky be with a reader just as crazy as them? Thank you!
Flashing gif trigger warning!!
Requests are closed but commissions are open!
Masterlist: x
Jeff the Killer
When he first meets them and realizes they match his freak, he’s actually not too happy
Between his deeply rooted narcissism and insecurity, he immediately sees them as a threat
Like,,, what do you mean some random newbie is similar to him? He’s supposed to be the specialist boy ever!!
He doesn’t want to lose his place, so he tries to talk them down or get rid of them to eliminate the competition
Only once it becomes clear they’re there to stay does he finally *somewhat* chill out about it
Like, when he realizes they aren’t a threat to his place in the mansion, only then will he start to take more of an interest
He’ll try to test them to see if they’re the real deal or if they’re just some poser
And the more they pass his little tests, the more they can prove themselves to him, the more he’ll develop an appreciation toward them
If they truly match his freak, chances are, the relationship will initially start as a friends-with-benefits kind of deal
And as he progressively becomes more attached, he’ll increasingly become more possessive
There might not be an official title to their relationship, but it eventually becomes clear that they’re exclusive
(They have his extremely possessive jealousy to thank for that)
And from that point on, they’ll become unstoppable
Crazy obsessive and dangerously explosive, they’ll quickly develop a reputation as being a couple you do not fuck with
And they’ll become absolutely inseparable
Because, although extremely rare, when Jeff finds someone he genuinely likes and trusts, he becomes loyal like a dog
Assuming his partner shares the same sentiment, the two would—quite literally—die for another
It’s an unhealthy kind of love, but it’s the ideal scenario for both of them
Even despite this love-sick obsession, the two are likely to bicker and argue a lot because fighting is practically one of Jeff’s love languages
So it wouldn’t be the healthiest relationship out there, but either way, Jeff probably wouldn’t go back to a normal relationship after meeting his crazy s/o
After all, where's the fun in being normal?~
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Masky
Masky’s biggest red flag is his lack of emotional regulation
If he’s not having an outburst of anger, he’s drowning his sorrows in some kind of substance abuse
Or he’s just full-on dissociating
So, again, a relationship with someone similar to him probably isn’t going to be the healthiest
Instead of uplifting one another and helping each other get better, the two are likely going to drag each other down
Especially if they’re both proxies dealing with the same kind of stressful work
Which means more substance abuse and a lot of fighting
It might get to the point where someone—probably Hoodie—will likely have to intervene
But even despite any friction in their relationship, they’re likely to always gravitate back to one another
They definitely develop toxic codependency
They'll also probably realize that their relationship isn’t the healthiest one out there
But at the same time, because they’re so similar, they find a lot of comfort within one another
And sometimes it feels like parting ways would leave them worse off anyways
So there’s definitely this kind of bitter-sweetness to their relationship
And, at the very least, if one of them ever manages to seek help, they could encourage the other to do the same
So they do still have a chance of saving each other
Like Jeff, Masky’s a very loyal person, so he’ll never give up on his s/o
And he’ll appreciate knowing they wouldn’t give up on him either
So, like I said, definitely bitter-sweet
But, hey, at least Masky will no longer feel like he’s alone in the world
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Laughing Jack
On God—it would be mad intense for a human to be as crazy as LJ
They’d have to be super fucked up to compare to a literal monster like him
And, LJ, not being used to seeing a human with that kind of attitude, would be utterly enthralled
He’d think it’s hilarious
He’d make them do all kinds of fucked up things just for his own personal amusement
And every time they do as he says he’d fall more and more crazily obsessed over them—especially if they enjoy it too
I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this previously, but I don’t think LJ is capable of feeling love like a normal person
I think he can feel obsession, fascination, amusement, and joy, though—which is what would overall more closely resemble his sentiment toward his s/o
And the more they’d surpass his expectations of their limits and boundaries, the stronger these sentiments would manifest
His s/o would sort of become like his little human pet project
And he’ll be damn proud of the monster he’s created
Honestly, even despite his feelings toward them, I think there’s a chance he’ll derive pleasure from torturing them
And if they keep crawling back to him—even despite everything he does to them—he'll definitely have earned his respect
He might even go so far as to mark them—which will make him super possessive of them
Like, he actively won’t allow any other demons near them, and he might not even be too fond of humans coming into contact with them, either
He’ll see them as this kind of valuable possession he’s played a crucial role in crafting
Sure, they were already nuts to begin with, but he molded them perfectly to his liking—and now they belong to him and him only
Honestly, needless to say, but this definitely isn’t a healthy relationship
But, if his s/o truly is as crazy as him, it’s not like they'd care, anyways
If anything, it's the poor souls that have the misfortune of running into them that'll suffer the worst fate
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im-smart-i-swear · 1 year
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Does Jiro has ghost like abilities (possession, ability to levitate things, etc etc) or does she just live in Shiro's head?
when i created this au, i thought the best option would be for her to be unable to interact with the physical world in any way(including possesion), beacuse i really wanted to lean into her isolation and how it affects her....... and while thats something i still want to emphasise here, lately ive been toying with the idea of jiro being able to impact the physical world somehow(though it still being fairly limited). i think letting her have some control could have a lot of potential! buuuut i also have no idea what abilities i want her to have lol
For now i think im not gonna give her any telekinetic abilities, bc i feel like it would be giving her too much power......... if she could throw shit, shed go APESHIT with it. it would made things too easy for her. i'm sorry babygirl but i'm NOT giving you the possibilty to throw knives and other sharp objects, i dont trust you to not kill someone:/
i really like the idea of her being able to temporarily posses her old body in certain circumstances tho- maybe when shiros uncouncious?? or like when hes is very tired or heavily injured she can kind of 'squeeze through' and take control back for a few minutes???? idk. i think this could be a very cool ability to give her- it cant be frequently used but can also be very helpful, and also theres so much potential for ✨shenanigans✨here>:) oh god i could put these fuckers in so many Situations with this..........
uhhh. so basically i think all of her influence on the physical world are through shiro. shes here bc of her connection to her old body, and thus its the only way for her to interact with anyone besides him- and shes NOT HAPPY about this(neither is shiro).
#ask#thank you for this ask!! it made me think more in depth about jiros abilities and come up with this so thanks<33333#if you have any ideas pls share them with me cause im still not really 100% set on everything lol#also im making a new tag for this au ->#two disasters au#bc. theres two of them.. and theyre both Mentally Unwell#also im gonna use this ask as an excuse to ramble about jiros motivation and character a bit-#okay. so i feel like the most importrant things about jiro are her tunnel vision and self-rightiousness#she gets really focused on one thing at a time and then fixates on it so much that she doesnt see how her behavior affects others#so when she gets evicted from her own body her first reaction isnt 'oh god this is such a messed up and dehumanizing thing to do to your#friend. what the FUCK guys'#its instead 'oh COME ON how am i supposed to be the black paladin without a physical body??? what the FUCK guys'#and bc deep down she KNOWS that if she ever stopped and thought about her situation for like 5 seconds shed just fuckin BREAK. so. she#doesnt do that.#and bc her self worth hinges on being the black paladin#she is really protective of tha title and tries her hardest to make sure shiro knows just how much better at paladin-ing she is than him#and that he wouldnt be able to keep the role without her help#she doesnt have any sense of personhood besides her job and so she clings to it desperately#the same applies to her gender#when jiro gets a new body(did i mention that???? i feel like i forgot to mention that. whoopsie???) he#(sometimes im gonna use he/him for jiro for when im showing things from a certain characters perspective cause thats what pronouns#she was using at the time)(if thats not okay i can stop tho) was trying very hard to pretend that hes just Shiro No. 2 and nothing more#to kinda 'make things easier for everyone' and bc he could FEEL the gender crisis approaching and was just. dead set on ignoring it and#hoping those feelings would go away(spoiler- they very much didnt. it just made things so so much Worse)#so anyway. basically jiro is a person obsesed with being Good Enough and respected but also lacks the experience patience and foresight#wnich results in her ignoring everyone and everything else to focus on doing her job Correctly#does this makes sense?? im still figuring shit out with her but thats what ive got rn
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caninecowboy · 2 years
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crying screaming throwing up etc etc etc
#milo.txt#em#made me TWO!!! playlists#we like to express our love for each other through playlists which is actually so cute of us#but they made me a playlist themed around i love you ! so some songs i've heard and some new ones#which is always a treat!!#they also made me a playlist themed around slow dancing in the kitchen#and they included songs ive sent them and offhandedly mentioned how i wanna dance w someone in the kitchen to them#god . i know it sounds like a small thing and a silly thing for me to be crying about but . i just#its so fucking crazy to me they listen? like of COURSE they listen theyre a god damn sweetheart and they know me sometimes better#than i know myself#as someone who kinda just vibed a lot alone and got used to solitude its crazy to me ill mention something once and they'll remember it#like i made a joke that if they wanted to get me anything for my birthday they should get me mothman#and guess what#they GOT ME A MOTHMAN PLUSHIE AND ITS THE CUTEST THING EVER (after them of course)#and its just like . oh my god? you not only listen to what i say but you remember? and you genuinely know who i am?#like . what the fuck bro that's crazy#yall know that tweet thats like you get kidnapped and theyll return you if you can speak about something for 30 minutes#yeah i could speak about em and how much i love them for like actual hours .#i just feel so incredibly lucky to be known and loved by them yknow? its . yeah . its good#it hurts sometimes because they're far away from me and sometimes my heart gets so excited i just. need to squeeze them and theyre not here#BUT as ive said before i would do this over and over and over and over and over just to say hello to them once more#EEP we're going to be together in like 3ish weeks HOLY FUCK#this reminded me to buy my concert outfit eugh im gonna look soooo cute actually#ANYWAY#my heart is so full and i love them an incredible amount <3#UPDATE ON THIS: i changed my blog title to 'oh loverboy' yesterday? and theres A SONG CALLED LOVERBOY ON THE PLAYLIST THEY SENT ME#OH HHHHH MY GOD MY FUCKING H E A R T#we're really on our own wavelength huh
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drgnflyteabox · 1 month
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can't get much better
pairing: ghost / simon riley x fem reader summary: simon is forced to take some time off - he makes the most of it. tags/warnings: very soft, pregnant sex, size difference, softdom!simon- he's a masculine man who doesn't let his lady lift a finger :'), oral (f), one (1) butthole kiss, dacryphilia, daddy kink (sigh), minor minor foot stuff, allusions to injuries and chronic pain, title from an adrianne lenker song w.c: 2.5k
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You try very hard not to think about it, but it's hard not to notice how massive he is.
Even shirtless, he somehow looks bigger, muscles flush with heat and exertion under the sun. He toils and breathes hard like an ox, working while you sit on the porch wrapped in his big flannel. Wearing his clothes is like being swaddled in a blanket straight out of the dryer, warm and nostalgic and syrupy with love. It leaves you feeling some type of tender. You're afraid of that feeling sometimes, of how soft it is and how soft it makes you. He could ask anything of you, and you'd yield like he was pressing his thumb into a bruised peach.
You have.
"How are you two?" Simon is so quiet when he wants to be. One would think he'd clomp like a horse with how big he is, but he can float like dust. It used to startle you, but you've been sinking deeper into the memory foam mattress of this life with him and it doesn't anymore.
"Tired, even though I'm not doing anything," you squint at him through the late afternoon sun. It haloes him like an angel.
"You're growing my baby in there, love. That's not nothing," his voice is rough, it always will be. But it's rough now like earth and soil rather than rough with pain and smoke the way he'd sounded when you met him.
You're feeling especially nostalgic, it seems, not like it's hard here. His hand is warm on your belly.
"I guess so," you let him pet you for a moment. Your stomach is swollen but not as big as it'll get, just enough to veto pants. A few months to go still. "How's your back?"
"Argh," Simon says, taking a heavy seat next to you. Dismissive and yet he groans a little when his muscles unclench. Classic.
You slowly reach up and nudge him until he's facing the field opposite to you, face toward the golden afternoon sun and his back to you. He's never asked you to do this, to take care of him, but it's your favourite thing in the world.
His back is always rock-hard no matter how many times you take your knuckles and fingers to it. Just a condition of a hard life lived for him, countless falls and impacts and pushing through injuries. There's a slight slant to his spine now that isn't there in the pictures he's shown you of his youth, but the stiffness is the same. You might've said he was born to be a soldier, had you not known him as a father. He could do both, but - you'd never say this out loud - you were privately grateful for this injury. It wouldn't take him out forever, but the recovery would be long. Long enough to get the homestead started, to get you pregnant.
Simon would never be completely still. This was compromise. Sweet compromise, a life started and time with him you could think back on the next time he shipped out. Making the most of things, he would always say. Making the time count.
"That feels good, love" he groans. Bending forward slowly, relaxing, he's like an aloof stallion finally accepting an apple from your hand. Acquiescing. Showing you his back. It's trust, and you savour it.
"I bet it does," you tease back, just a little. Your fingers are nimble and attuned to his specific aches and pains. "Are you hungry for dinner?"
"I'm hungry for something," he turns, slowly, hands reaching for your thickened waist. Huge, work-roughened hands. War-roughened hands, holding you like a delicate egg. Sometimes it feels like he's the only thing that holds you together; all your pieces, everywhere, until he's holding you.
Kissing him is a contact sport. It's his hands moving, cupping your breast and then your pussy through your panties, your own hands wrapping around his broad shoulders like he's the only thing keeping you from drowning. It's open-mouthed, breathing into each other. Impossibly, you get softer, melting like ice on a hot day. 
Before you can lean back on the bench, he stands and lifts you with him. He's still hot from the day, damp with sweat, pushing you into the house while kissing you still.
"Simon-" you start, with no goal in mind. "Please."
"I've got you, love," he murmurs. He always does. Before you know it, you're laid back onto the plush armchair in your living room. Simon knows this is the most comfortable place for your newly-aching body. Affection swells in your chest uncontrollably and comes out through your eyes leaking down your face. Sure, pregnancy makes people emotional - but you're still embarrassed, touched by how considerate he is.
"It's alright, shh," he thumbs the tears at the corner of your eyes. His cock tents his work pants, aroused by them. "Let me take care of you."
The next words he murmurs are into your cunt, right over your panties, tongue laving over the already-wet fabric. "Just need your daddy, don't you?" You clench in tandem with his words, hot all over, skin prickling. He pushes your dress up, bunching it right under your tits.
It's reminiscent of how you spent the first night with him, on the very first day you'd met. Hurried, his big head between your thighs and clothes hanging off you still while he made you fall apart.
He's fucking good at it, too. Pulls your panties to the side and builds up the pressure with which he sucks on your clit, softly and then harsher until you shake. You've been extra horny lately, always wet around him and always so swollen. The scrape of his five-o-clock shadow against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh is what tips you over, clamping his head tightly and shouting your orgasm into the heady summer air.
"That all it takes?" Simon grins, chin wet, fingers moving from your hips to your pussy to gently rub along your slit.
"Give me a second, please," it's humbling how quickly you come nowadays. Quick and intense. Fireworks.
You set your foot on his shoulder and he turns towards it, kissing your ankle. Patience is rare with him, something come about only since you confirmed your pregnancy. You miss being overwhelmed by him, miss the nights where he'd guide you over the edge one, two, three times in succession.
He pushes now, just a little, not waiting for your go-ahead but watching you intently. His fingers spread your cunt in a V and he puffs a breath on your sensitive clit. You jump. He grins again, leaning down to lick you, using one hand to hold both your legs under your knees and push them until they meet the soft bump of your belly.
"Hold them there," he says. It's spoken not to you, but to your hole, which he spears his tongue into. You obey as you're helpless to do, holding your legs up and giving him an unimpeded view. It's more than vulnerable, it's not only baring yourself to him completely but giving him the authority to do what he wants. What you need.
Simon eats you out like it's a kiss, slurping you down and letting you leak until the evidence of your weakness to him is all over you. Your legs are wet, and it drips down onto your other hole. He pushes a thumb into your cunt, dipping it in and out.
"Needed me, did'ya? Watched me all day," he's so smug, sometimes. His lips find your bare foot, kissing your sole. "Been wet like this all day?" His other hand finds the meat of your asscheek, spreading you open further, letting the split of you open to him. He leans down, kissing your inner thigh, then your other hole. You whine and clench your pussy around his thumb. 
"So needy," he murmurs, finally finally moving back to your clit. Flicks his tongue over it, something that might've been teasing before but is intense now. Your hands tighten against your legs, head thrown back.
"Oh please- Simon!" You shout again, abs drawing up, stars in your eyes. "Ahh- I'm-"
"I know, honey," his lips suction again around the hard little pebble of your clit, eating like a man starved. 
This is how he likes you. Losing control, coming apart, helplessly vocal against the onslaught of his tongue. No matter how many times you've done this, it never gets old. The release almost always makes you cry, especially intense like this. You're wet all over, face and cunt and legs. He is, too.
"You still with me, love?" He pets your flank like you're a horse.
"Yes," but that's not what he wants.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, daddy."
"Good girl," and fuck if that doesn't always fill you with warm fuzzy energy. Wipes your brain, keeps you soft and floaty.
He guides you up and out of the armchair, lifts you into his arms when your legs shake too much. That electric feeling is still coursing through you, tingles in your extremities as they come back to life.
The hand he strokes over you is half affectionate, half proprietary. You've been his since the first time he laid eyes on you.
He reminds you of it as he sets you down gently on the bed, your hair a halo around your head and hands reaching to his face where you pull him down for a kiss. Hands find his shirt, pulling it off you, and then the dress. Fingertips touch the headboard, your arms stretching up, making room for him. Slips your panties down your legs.
It's a lingering, indulgent kiss. Breathing each others air, gasping into his mouth, he puts his elbows by your head and lays as much weight down as he can without cramping your full belly. He's as vocal as you, groaning and rutting like a dog.
"Ready for me, sweet girl?" He leans out of the kiss, sitting back on his heels. You nod, desperate and pulsing between the legs again like you didn't just come twice.
"Daddy's gonna take care of you, don't you worry," he rearranges you like a doll, turning you to your side and getting between your legs. A pillow is tucked under your belly, and he tests your flexibility by holding your leg tight to the length of his body. Your hamstring burns a little with it.
A hand holds your knee, another to your waist. His jeans scrape against your sensitive skin.
You focus on little details. His scar, touching his eyebrow and splitting through his nose, ending down by his jaw. The knuckles on his fingers holding your knee, and how rough the pads of his fingers feel on your waist. This man has never had soft hands in his life. Those same hands capable of so much force, so much violence, the very same that hold you and guide you. A shepherd, you his lamb.
The weeping head of his cock kisses your hole, catching there and traveling up. He taps it against your clit until you're tensing, whining, needy again. Tears down your cheeks.
He steadies you, pets your waist, guides his cock inside and it feels like you can breathe again. His mouth laves hot kisses over your ankle, the sole of your foot again, reverent and controlling all at once. The stretch burns - it always does, and maybe always will. Simon is just so big, thick all around and the mushroom head of him could always bump your cervix if he's not careful.
He's careful now, but only just. You can sense his control fraying, his hips driving forward steadily but his thighs tensing and his grip getting meaner. This is your favourite part. Watching him sweat, breathe hard, taking his pleasure in you.
"Yeah-" he cuts himself off with a long, drawn out groan. Deep, from the bottom of his belly and out. "Already so full of me, aren't ya? Can't get full enough."
You plead with your sounds, words out of your grasp. Your hands clutch at the sheets but it isn't enough. He's solid, he's your anchor, but he's losing himself in your cunt and you're free falling.
"Play with your tits for me," he commands, pumping faster. You're reflexively tightening around him, clit jumping for attention, squeaking each time he lets himself in as deep as possible and touches the mouth of your cervix.
Sunlight slowly fades on the bed, the last golden rays escaping out the window as you're bathed in dusk. 
There's nothing to do but obey, hands finding your swollen breasts and squeezing. They've been sore and huge, like that week before you get your period only it's been a couple months. None of your bras fit anymore.
Simon appreciates it, he loves it. Has you cooking for him with your tits out, nipples peaked and pussy leaking. They bounce, now, stopped only by your hands pinching and twisting. It's insane - no one in the world could replicate the feeling. No artist, no musician. Electricity zips from your breasts down to your clit and shit - you might come just like this, untouched, just full of your man and fondling yourself.
"Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me. Fucking," he pants, leaning over you, bending your leg. "Pinching my dick, sweetheart. Your pussy's so fucking good."
The orgasm begins in your toes, tingling. Your muscles tighten, drawing up, up, towards your cunt, which is making obscene sounds around him.
Simon sees the signs, sees your eyes rolling and your body going taut. He abandons your leg in favour of rubbing your clit with two big fingers quickly, up and down.
"That's it, sweetheart, come all over my cock. Go on," his voice is a snarl, barely distinguishable as human, beastly. "Be good for daddy.”
It's like the crescendo of an orchestra, like a summer afternoon in august, like waking up without a clogged nose after being sick, it's - really fucking good. You're near sobbing, crying out his name, abandoning your tits to reach for him desperately. He meets you halfway, shuddering his own orgasm into you. The press of his hips against yours is better than buttered toast, the delicate press of his chest against yours as he lets your leg go is bliss.
"Si-imon," you slur, hands on his cheeks. He laughs and kisses your forehead.
"What's that, sweet girl?"
"I love you," you cry a little more then, feeling him pull out and lay next to you. You're boneless.
"I love you too," his arm reaches across you, pulling you into him. "Both of you." Hand on your belly again.
"That was insane," you pant. He barks a laugh against your hair. "I'm serious."
"I know you are, love," he kisses your forehead, petting your stomach. You can tell it's meaning, can feel the gratefulness behind the kiss. He's saying thank you, for staying with him, for making him a father. Your hand finds his, squeezing back a wordless reply. Of course, it says.
<3
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aurorawritestoescape · 3 months
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I KNOW BETTER THAN TO CALL YOU MINE
Pre outbreak Joel Miller x f!reader || 7k
Summary: Joel lets himself have a treat. You.
Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, slight age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel is 30), sex work, idiots in love, soft Joel, praise kink, size kink, f/m oral, cum eating, alcohol consumption, m!masturbation, sex toy usage, bondage, protected/unprotected piv, creampie, light pussy spanking, somno, aftercare, mention of degradation, pet names (baby, sweetheart, honey). Reader has hair, wears dresses. Pics are for the mood only, reader has no specific physical descriptions.
A/n: this is for @janaispunk ‘s 1500 kisses challenge. My prompt was ‘first kiss’ with Joel Miller. Congrats again, Jana, and thank you for the fun challenge!😘 The pic in the m/b is from this post by @liminaltourist. Hugs and kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘🫂 dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕 The title is from the lyrics of ‘Let’s fall in love for the night’ by FINNEAS. Hope you will enjoy this story! Love you all!💖
MASTERLIST
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Joel met you at Tommy’s birthday party and was instantly attracted to you. You were beautiful, sweet, funny, a little shy which he found charming. You told him that you worked as a waitress, meanwhile looking for a steady job after graduating college. He spent the whole night talking to you. The whole night being a couple of hours when he had a sitter for Sarah. Joel noticed a trace of sadness in your gorgeous eyes while you two were saying your goodbyes and for a second he regretted the way his life turned out. A single father at the age of thirty, working tirelessly to give his daughter the best life he could. But all the regrets vanished into thin air the moment he returned home and saw Sarah, sleeping peacefully in her bed. He planted a gentle kiss on her temple and quietly went to his empty bedroom. She was his life and he was ok with it.
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Next time when Joel went out with Tommy for a drink, he asked about you in passing. He tried to make it seem like a simple curiosity but his younger brother still gave him a knowing smirk. Joel really liked you but his life was hectic enough. Work and being a single parent took all his time and he couldn’t squeeze in a relationship. He wouldn’t be a good boyfriend, he thought, and you deserved only the best. But your image— your eyes, your smile, your body, was flashing behind his eyes again and again, reminding him that he had needs and desires.
After a few beers and tequila shots, their conversation circled back to you and Tommy blabbed out that you worked as an escort. Joel was astonished. You seemed shy and sweet. He had never been against sex work but he always imagined a different type of people in that business. He didn’t know what to make of it but he felt his cock twitch, thinking of how sexually liberated you were.
He thought about asking for your number, but Tommy would tease him to death and he decided not to.
The next time you met Joel was at another Tommy’s party. Joel agreed to come, wanting to see you again. You talked and laughed like before but the air was almost electric between you two. The glances were darker, your hand brushing his skin here and there made him want more— touch you, feel you close against his body. He could save up and do all that if you agreed. So he made a decision and offered to drive you home when the party was over.
As soon as Joel parked his car at your driveway, he cleared his throat and asked if he could see you sometime.
“Are you asking me out on a date?” Your voice was soft and a shy smile tugged at your lips.
“Ehm… fuck, I —I know what you do,” Joel admitted, turning to you slightly in the driver’s seat, “Tommy told me when he was drunk. Forgive him and me, please, ok? And— I don’t know what you call that, but— can I meet you for an appointment?”
Your face fell and you were blinking at him with a mouth agape. Joel’s heart froze- what if Tommy had been fucking with him and you didn’t sleep with people for money.
After a few longest seconds of his life, you took a deep breath and gave him a little nod. Joel asked you about the details and you explained to him what he needed to do to book a session with you and though you were talking about sex, it sounded cold and dry. You gave him a little smile before getting out of the car and he drove off with the thought that he had made a mistake.
He really didn’t plan to call you, thinking he had killed whatever spark and connection you two had, but his thoughts returned to you again and again. He was hearing your laugh everywhere and your face was behind his eyelids every time he went to sleep.
One night after a few beers he imagined you in his bed and his hand flew to his already stiffening cock. He shut his eyes and saw you next to him, naked and ready for him. Pleasuring himself, Joel imagined your hand wrapped around his length, sliding up and down, then your mouth sucking on his tip and soon he was spurting his load all over his stomach and fist. He could have you, you already agreed to it, and he deserved to feel good, to treat himself once in a while. With those thoughts on his mind he texted you and booked a session.
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Joel tried to be on time for your first meeting, but everything seemed to go wrong that day and when he arrived at a hotel, you were already waiting for him at the bar. He showered you with apologies for being late but you assured him that it was ok. He felt the flames of desire, when he took you all in. Your black dress was hugging your body perfectly and he couldn’t wait to take it off you.
You had already got a room for them so Joel followed you to the elevator. He had never been that nervous in his life. You must have noticed it, so you took his hand and gave him a warm smile.
“I’m so glad we’re doing this, Joel.”
“Never done this before,” he admitted when the elevator doors opened and you walked to the room.
“It’s ok, Joel. I’m sure we’re going to have a great time,” you said, smiling to him, and opened the door.
When Joel stepped inside, he saw a typical hotel room with one big bed. You turned to him and asked,
“Before we start, do you have any questions or suggestions about what you want us to do?”
Joel swallowed loudly.
“I want —, he scratched the back of his neck and continued, “just the usual, I guess.”
“The usual?” you repeated with a little smirk.
“Yeah, just sex.”
You pouted your lips in thought, then smiled with mischief in your gaze and slowly came up to him.
His breath hitched when your behavior changed in front of his eyes, like a little kitten turned into a panther in a matter of seconds. You looked the same but there was an allure in your every move, each glance was magnetic, as if you were calling for him to touch you, fuck you. You were irresistible. Your body was inches away from him, your perfume subtle but enticing, enveloping him, and you purred,
“I don’t think we want it to be ‘just’ sex, Joel. How about we make it special.”
Your tongue caressed your lower lip and he slowly leaned down. You swiftly swerved him and instead of tasting your lips, he nuzzled your cheek.
“I’m sorry, Joel— I don’t kiss on the lips during sessions.”
“Oh fuck, sorry.” Joel felt really bad and explained, “I got carried away... I’ve read the rules you sent me… I remember no kissing part, like in “Pretty Woman”,” Joel chuckled, rubbing his scruffy cheek in a nervous gesture.
You giggled, too, probably trying to make him feel more comfortable, “Yes, just like in “Pretty Woman.”
Without noticing it, he tried to memorize the sound of your laugh, how pretty it was. You slightly pulled away from him and tilted your head.
“How about I take the lead at first and then we’ll see how it goes?”
Joel nodded. He wanted to take your dress off, carry you to the bed and fuck you till you screamed his name. But he was afraid to do something wrong, he’d never been in that type of situation. You took his hand and gently caressed it, your fingers dancing over his hardened skin. Then he watched you bring it to your red lips and kiss his palm. You glanced up at him with your big beautiful eyes, not taking his hand away and his whole body reacted to your gentle touch. He was getting hard.
You led Joel to the bed, your fingers intertwined with his, and gently pushed on his shoulders to make him sit down. You slowly took your dress off and he tried not to start drooling like a cartoon wolf, seeing you in front of him in a black lacy set.
You stood between his spread thighs and bent over to tug at the hem of his dark tee. He helped you to take it off and when you kneeled in front of him, he almost moaned. Your beautiful face was so close, he wanted to kiss you so much but he couldn’t and he’d never do anything you didn’t want.
You unbuckled his belt and softly asked him to take his jeans off.
Soon Joel was sitting there in his boxer briefs with you on your knees between his spread thighs.
"You're so hot, Joel," you whispered, as your dark gaze slid over the expense of his broad shoulders and chest, and your nails slightly scratched his muscular thighs.
He breathed out a laugh, shaking his head. He wanted to tell you how gorgeous you look, wearing your lingerie and your high heel shoes, how much he'd been thinking about you since the day you'd met but his mouth was dry and he felt himself like a teenage boy who was trying to compliment a hot girl.
You weren't aware of his inner torment. As always calm and confident, you leaned closer to his torso and kissed a spot on his chest, right over his heart. Joel took a sharp breath and shut his eyes for a second, trying to calm down. He couldn't believe what just a gentle chest kiss from you was doing to him, but he was already painfully hard.
Your lips glided lower and you started leaving open mouth kisses, tracing a path down to the bulge in his boxers, and he opened his thighs wider to give you more space. When your face was close to his clothed cock, you rested your head on his left thigh and looked up at him.
“Fuck,” Joel cursed and growled at the sight of you so close to his already throbbing manhood. You were so pretty, so obedient but even on your knees he felt that you controlled the situation.
“Joel?”
“Yes, baby?”
You smiled hearing the pet name and asked,
“Can I take you in my mouth?”
His cock visibly twitched when he heard your soft voice and the words you uttered.
“If you want.”
You bit your lower lip and asked, rubbing your cheek on his hairy thigh.
“I do but would you like me to?”
Joel nodded eagerly, maybe too eagerly but he didn’t care. He wanted you so much.
With a content smile, you sat up straight and shifted on your knees, getting comfortable. Then you pulled at the waistband of his boxers and in a second they were on the floor and his cock was bobbing in front of your face. Your breath visibly hitched and you glanced up at him.
“You have a gorgeous cock, Joel Miller,” you whispered and he wanted to kiss you again, hearing the praise. But instead he brought his hand to your face and cupped your cheek. You purred into his touch but parted from his palm in a second when you lowered your face and kitten-licked the fat tip of his cock. Joel sighed and bucked his hips already impatient for more. You didn’t make him wait long.
Your lips soon welcomed his cock between them as you started taking him deeper, covering his length with your warm saliva as your hand was firmly wrapped around his girthy base.
Joel moaned loudly at the sensation, he didn’t care what sounds he was making, completely lost in the pleasure your soft lips and skilful tongue were giving him.
Your mouth was slowly caressing his cock as your curved up lips were sliding over his sensitive skin and your tongue danced around the fat head, now and then stroking the leaking slit. There was so much precum, he saw you swallow it again and again. Your hand was gently massaging his balls and his big palm was lying on your head, not pushing, just showing you how much he needed you at that moment. Joel was in heaven.
Soon you took all of him and your throat contracting around his length was the last straw. He was dangerously close to coming and painting your mouth creamy white. But he had other plans for you.
“Shit, baby,” he cupped your cheek and gently pulled you off his ready-to-explode cock, “you’re too fucking good at it. I won’t last. And I wanna..”
He lost his words as you were looking at him with sparkling eyes, full of understanding and warmth.
“Of course, Joel.” You slowly got up on your feet and took off your high heels. Then you padded to the nightstand and opened the drawer. Joel saw a few toys lying there and his heart started to beat faster when he imagined using them on you. Maybe he could suggest it, he mused inwardly, but when you started sliding your panties and bra off your body, he lost his train of thought.
Now completely naked you came up to him and placed your hands on his broad shoulders. Then you planted your knees on each side of him and got on his lap.
“You’re beautiful,” Joel said in a low voice as his hands found your hips and he rubbed your skin with his calloused thumbs.
You thanked him, smiling, and opened the package with your teeth. You brought the condom to his hard cock, slid it on and then got up on your knees, your pussy hovering over Joel’s tip.
You searched for his eyes and as soon as your eyes locked, you started sinking on his thick length.
Joel watched pleasure twisting your face while his cock was slowly parting your insides. He moaned at the sensation of your wet warm pussy welcoming him, grasped your hips tightly and when you took all of him, your ass was flush with his balls, you both loudly sighed.
“You feel so good, baby. So warm and tight.”
“Thank you, Joel. Your cock is so fucking big.”
He took a sharp breath, hearing you curse, and at the back of his mind he wondered if you said it to every client but he drove the thought away. He needed you too much.
Your breasts were right in front of his face and he asked, looking up at you, as if you were a goddess he was praying to.
“Is it ok if I kiss your body?”
“Yes, Joel, please. You can do anything to me.”
“Just not kiss your beautiful lips?”
“Joel,” you whined and he felt you clench around his hard cock.
He scolded himself for those words as soon as they left his stupid mouth. It was the thing you kept for yourself, he understood and accepted it but his desire drove him insatiable.
“I’m sorry, baby, I know it’s a rule. I understand it. It’s jus’ my brain doesn’t work properly, all the blood is down there.”
“Oh, right,” you softly giggled, “Let me shut you up then.”
You lifted your hips, making his cock almost leave the heaven of your cunt, but when the tip was close to slipping out, you sank back down on his manhood inch by inch, gliding your hands over his broad chest.
Joel’s mouth got slack and you both moaned at the ecstatic sensation of him, filling you up again.
With a groan Joel swiftly put his mouth on your breast and you whimpered when he swirled his tongue around your perky nipple. While he was gently sucking and licking your tits, you were languidly riding him, as soft whimpers were leaving your half parted mouth. At one point you nuzzled his forehead and your hot breath on his lips let him imagine you kiss him. His fingers dug into your hips but just for a second. Afraid to hurt you he glided them over your back and arms. He raised his lips to your neck and kissed your skin there.
Joel knew that he was getting close. His hand slithered to your pussy and he slipped his thumb between your folds. He found your clit hardened and throbbing for attention. He began stroking it slowly and you reacted immediately with the sweetest sound he’d ever heard.
“Joel,” you breathed out and he clenched his jaw, trying not to explode right then and there.
“Want you to come on my cock, baby.”
You stopped bouncing on his member and he saw you furrow your brows in concentration.
He made his thumb dance faster over your bud and soon your pussy was pulsating around his cock. Your contracting walls sent him over the edge and he started coming, filling up the condom inside you. Oh, how he wished to paint your walls with his creamy load but rules are rules.
As you both started descending from your highs, panting heavily, Joel held you in his big arms and you rested on his broad chest. You were breathing into the crease between his neck and shoulder and at one point he thought you’d fallen asleep.
But the next second you sat up straight on his lap with a satisfied smile. You gently kissed his scruffy cheek and he tried not to purr like a happy cat.
You cuddled a little bit more but soon his time was over.
“Can I see you again?” He asked when you got out of the bed.
“I’d love to, Joel,” you replied, putting on your underwear, “Text me when you have a day in mind.”
You looked like you wanted to say something but stopped yourself. You put on your clothes, kissed his cheek again and left.
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After the first time with you Joel knew immediately it wasn’t the last. The need to have you, to be with you again squeezed his heart as soon as that hotel door closed behind you. But he wasn’t rich. He couldn’t spend all his money on you. So he started saving up here and there, anything he could, without damaging the level of life of his daughter.
He texted you as soon as he had enough to pay you and you told him that your regulars got a discount which was a nice surprise for him.
Joel invited you to his place. Sarah was at a sleepover and he had the house for himself for a night. He needed just a couple of hours, no way he could afford a whole night with you.
When you arrived at his place, wearing a pair of tight jeans and a tank top, his mouth immediately started watering. He tried to be a gentleman and a good host and gave you a tour of the house, but when you stepped into his bedroom, all his decency came crashing down. Soon your jeans were discarded on the floor while his head was between your trembling thighs. Joel was licking up your juices straight from the source, grunting into your wet cunt and fucking his tongue into your clenching hole. He was fully clothed, grinding his hard cock against the bed and staining his gray sweatpants.
You were singing for him so beautifully when he began plunging his thick fingers in and out of your heat while his mouth was gently sucking on your throbbing clit. Your back was arched and your hands were clutching his dark curls. He curled his fingers, pushing on that soft spot inside your creaming pussy once, twice and you came, crying out his name, while your walls were fluttering around his digits.
When he parted from your puffy glistening cunt, he saw tears in your hazy eyes. Joel was happy he still got it but what filled his chest with pride was that he made you cry and writhe with ecstasy.
"I'm here, baby. You did so good for me," Joel praised you, climbing up the bed and taking you in his arms. You were trying to catch your breath and he gave you a respite, manhandling you so your head would be resting on his broad shoulder.
"Thank you, Joel, you didn't have to," you mumbled.
"Have to? Sweetheart, it was my pleasure."
He heard your giggle, followed by a content sigh. His hard cock was tenting his gray sweatpants but he didn't care. He was happy to hold you, breathe in the fruity scent of your hair, and when a few minutes later he saw you peacefully sleeping in his embrace, his heart almost burst with affection. He closed his eyes for a second and drifted off too.
Joel woke up in the middle of the night when he felt you move in your sleep. He must have woken you up as you started to shuffle next to him and then sat up straight.
“Fuck! I fell asleep?” You asked, eyes widened, covering your naked thighs with a bedspread.
“Yeah, me too.”
“I’m so sorry, Joel. It’s never happened before. Oh my god, it’s so unprofessional.”
He hastily sat up next to you, taking your hands in his.
“Hey, no. It’s ok. I loved sleeping with you— next to you.”
He smiled, leaning closer to you and rubbing your hands with his thumbs, trying to reassure you and it seemed to work because you gave him an apologetic smile but he felt you relax a little.
“I won’t take any money from you today.”
“No, you spent so much time with me. I owe you even more.”
“Joel, you ate me out, made me come, and then I fell asleep. I definitely don’t deserve to get paid,” you giggled. “The way I see it I owe you now.”
“I’ll think about the career change,” Joel chuckled and at the same time he felt his cock get harder when you talked about the oral. The arousal he had felt before falling asleep came back with a renewed force and swept him away.
He wasn’t smiling anymore, his gaze slid up and down your body and the air in the room got heavier.
“What did you like the most?” he asked as his eyes darkened.
Your breath hitched and even in the dim light of the room he saw your pupils dilate. You dropped your gaze for a second and when you raised your eyes, they were filled with need and desire.
“I loved how much you enjoyed it. How good you were. It felt amazing when your mouth was on my clit. When you were sucking it,” you bit your lip almost shyly and your words went straight to his cock.
You whispered, “Should I go or…?”
“I wanna fuck you,” Joel interrupted you, palming his stiffening bulge, and you quickly nodded before throwing away the bedspread and taking off your top. Your tits bounced as you straddled him and he wrapped his big arms around your naked body.
Joel let you take off his shirt and when your lips latched onto his neck he held you closer and flipped you on the bed, covering you with his body.
You gasped at the fast shift but then moaned when Joel pulled his cock out of his sweatpants.
It was already hard as a rock and wet with precum under his fingers. He gave it a few pumps to spread it over his heated skin.
“Shit, condoms.”
He hastily reached to grab a pack from the nightstand. He opened one, while your fingers were caressing him, dancing over his torso and arms. As soon as the protection was on, you pulled him closer and he pushed his length into you without any warning. He had already stretched you with his tongue and fingers so his tip easily slipped into your crying hole.
“Oh, yeah, baby,” Joel breathed out and started rolling his hips. His lips were caressing every spot he could reach and you were kissing his shoulders and neck.
Without pausing he braced his hands on the bed, hovering over you, his dark gaze locked with yours. He wanted to memorize every lip bite, every twitch of your brows when his cock was sliding in and out your needy cunt. You were so wet for him, he felt your juices on his balls and inner thighs and he closed his eyes trying not to come too soon.
“Look at me, Joel,” you purred and he immediately did what you asked. Your gaze slid from his dark eyes to his lips and it took everything from him not to kiss you right now.
He leaned down and instead gently kissed your heated cheek, leaving a wet spot on your soft skin. With a whimper you wrapped your legs around his waist and started grinding your hips, chasing your orgasm by rubbing your little clit against his pubic bone.
“Do ya wanna come, sweetheart?
“Only if you want me to, Joel,” you breathed out and he furrowed his brows, reminded of the nature of your relationship.
“ ‘course I do.”
With that he pulled away from you and sat up on his knees between your sweaty thighs. “Let me…,” he pulled out and you whined.
“Oh, baby, so impatient.”
You bit your lip with a sly smile but Joel quickly wiped it off your face when he took the condom off and asked,
“Can I slap your pretty pussy with my cock, sweetheart?” He gripped his cock at the base, squeezing it a little to postpone his climax and when you whispered a sultry ‘yes’ he slapped your clit with the tip of his throbbing length.
“Oh my god, Joel!” you cried out with a jerk, looking up at him with your brows pulled together and eyes rolling back.
“You like it?” He asked and when you nodded he started slapping your pulsating bud with his cock again and again until he saw some slick, seeping out of your clenching hole. He rubbed his red tip against it, coating his manhood with your juices, and began grinding it between your folds. His tip was bumping into your clit rhythmically and your taut muscles told him that you were close to your climax.
“Come for me, baby, please,” he asked softly and slapped your clit one more time. A jolt of pleasure made you shut your eyes and a loud moan escaped your lips. Wanting to prolong your orgasm and chasing his, Joel pressed his tip to your clit with his hand and started thrusting his cock, rubbing your twitching clit and at the same time massaging his whole length against your soft pussy and his own palm.
The overwhelming sensation, your sweet sounds and the sight of you coming in his bed made him explode and he began spurting creamy ropes of cum on your belly and sternum. He growled when a few drops landed on your bouncing breasts.
When you both stilled and the ecstasy started dissipating he sat down on his heels and watched you for a few seconds.
Joel wanted to remember that image- you, beautiful and satisfied, eyes shut, chest and belly heaving, was splayed on his bed, body glistening with sweat and cum. The happiness soon mixed with regret and the feeling of longing for more, wishing you were really truly his tightened his chest. But the reality was cruel. You didn’t need a single father in your life, you were free and your whole life was ahead of you.
Your curious gaze interrupted his thoughts.
“What are you thinking about, Joel?” You asked with a warm smile.
“I'm thinking my bed has never looked better than now.”
Your smile turned into a grin and you started to sit up but Joel stopped you with a raised hand.
“Let me clean you up, sweetheart.”
He went to the bathroom to get a wet towel and then gently wiped away his cum off your skin.
Before you left, he hugged you, breathing in the scent of your hair one more time and you gave him a soft kiss on the cheek.
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You kept seeing each other for another month. Joel preferred his place to hotels and whenever he had the house for himself and got enough spare money, he would text you. In his own home it was easier to imagine you as his girlfriend, or even wife. He knew that it wasn’t healthy and he was getting a little delusional but it made him happy to think that you were his. If only in his dreams.
Sometimes Joel would literally dream about you. He’d wake up hard, yearning for your touch, your lips on his body, your gentle fingers running through his hair. It was easy to imagine you there with him. His hand would pump his needy cock and the image of you behind his eyelids was enough to make him come, groaning into his pillow.
As time passed Joel got more confident in expressing his desires. The possibilities were endless and you always looked excited whenever he suggested trying something new.
Like the time your eyes glinted with mischief when he asked if he could edge you the next time. Just the idea of making you beg for a climax made him rock hard. So during your next session he had you tied to his bed, as you were whimpering and pleading for a release, a vibrator in his hand pressed to your puffy clit. Though he caved in quite fast and finished you off with his thick fingers massaging your core, his teasing made you squirt and Joel lapped it all up with the wildest eyes and an aching cock. You returned the favor by drinking him till the last drop after he shoved his cock down your throat keeping you in place with his hands clutching your hair.
He loved experimenting with you, loved being rougher. But more often he craved making love to you, wanted you softly purring under his big body, as his cock was buried deep inside your heat, your pussy fluttering around him. He still couldn’t kiss you but your neck, your breasts, your cheeks were enough for him. Yet he couldn’t deny it— he was down bad for you.
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“What is it, baby?” Joel asked you, pulling away from your neck that he was peppering with open mouth kisses a moment ago.
You were sitting on his lap, wearing a pretty summer dress and his only thought was to tear it off you but when his hands started roaming your body, you jerked and sniffed.
“Nothing. Everything’s ok, Joel,” you replied softly and nuzzled his neck. He knew something was wrong and you were hiding your pretty face. During the time he had known you, he learnt to read your body language and even feel your mood. So Joel stopped his ministrations immediately and kissed the top of your head.
“You can tell me, sweetheart. If you want.”
For a few minutes, he was holding you in his arms, rubbing your forearm with his thumb. Finally you took a deep breath, not raising your head off his shoulder, and opened up.
“I had a session with a new client yesterday. It was horrible.”
As soon as he heard your soft voice, saying that, his insides burned.
“Who? What did he do to you?”
He took your chin between his fingers and tilted your head up to face him.
When he saw tears in your eyes, he immediately wanted to rip that asshole apart. But your expression told him that you needed him to be gentle, to be there with you and he wanted to give you that.
“He was really degrading. Clients want it sometimes but it hadn’t been discussed and the things he said— made me feel like a cheap hooker. He didn’t hurt me though,” you added hastily but Joel saw that he had. Not physically but that fucker had made you really upset.
“I should talk some sense into the asshole. Can you give me his name?”
“No, no,” you were shaking your head, “I can’t. It’s all confidential. I’ll get over it and won’t see him again of course.”
You took a deep breath before mumbling,
“I’m sorry for ruining the mood.”
Then you reached for his belt buckle but Joel’s hand stopped you and he placed your hands between his big palms.
“No, you’re not in the mood. It’s ok. Can we just cuddle?
“But— I will be in a second. I’m professional, Joel.” You shot him almost a fiery glance and pouted your lips.
“Hey, baby, your client here—,” Joel pointed a thumb at himself with raised eyebrows and a sly smile, “wants to role play a big spoon tonight. Can we do that?”
“You’re so kinky”, you said with a giggle and lay down on the bed. In a second he was holding you, his chest pressed to your back, his strong arms embracing you, giving you comfort.
He was semi hard and surely you noticed it. He felt the warmth of your skin through the thin material of your dress and it drove him insane but the way you flinched at his touch, your tears, your shaky voice told him you wanted him to just hold you. For the second time you fell asleep in his arms and he woke you up with a kiss on your soft cheek the next morning.
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Another month passed. As weird as it might have sounded, you became a huge part of his life. He knew every crevice, every curve of your body, knew every hope and dream. He kissed every spot on you, except for your beautiful lips. He tasted them a million times in his imagination but with time it stopped being enough. So he decided to invite you to celebrate his birthday with his family and the closest friends and finally ask you out on a real date.
Joel was nervous when you stepped into his house that day. Tommy raised his eyebrows, surprised to see you there, but fortunately didn’t ask or say anything. You seemed anxious as well at first, but after introducing you to everyone, Joel was happy to notice you chatting with the other guests, giggling with Sarah about something and when his daughter pulled you upstairs to show you her drawings, warmth spread in his chest. He was glad and relieved that you two got along. He wasn’t looking for a mother for his child, he would never ask you to take such a responsibility, but it was important to him that you two could be friends.
Just before dessert you asked him if you could talk privately. Tommy gave Joel a wink, lips twisted in a smirk, when you two headed upstairs, and the older brother just rolled his eyes.
When you stepped into Joel’s bedroom, his cock twitched in his jeans. It was a Pavlovian reflex at this point. He was used to seeing you there naked, your gorgeous body wriggling in his bed, whimpers and moans escaping your mouth.
But Joel told himself to calm down when you came up to him with a serious expression on your pretty face.
“Joel…,” you started and dropped your eyes, fumbling with your fingers.
“Yes, baby?” His heart started pounding in his chest. Always calm and self assured you seemed really nervous and the change scared him. What if you decided to break off whatever weird relationship you two had, what if…
You interrupted his thoughts when you raised your face to him and a little shy smile tugged at your lips.
“I want to give you your birthday present.”
He opened his mouth to say that you hadn’t have to do it, seeing you there was enough but he paused when you inched closer, your big sparkling eyes staring right into his soul. Then your gaze slid down to his lips and Joel seemed to stop breathing. He felt your palms on his forearms and then you slightly pressed your lips to his. They were barely there at first, hesitant, waiting for him to react.
He had been imagining that moment, dreaming of it for so long, so his hands immediately flew to your waist and he pressed his body closer to yours, welcoming your kiss with his whole being.
Joel’s lips started moving against yours, gently and slowly as if he was afraid to scare you away, to ruin the moment. But when he heard you sigh happily against him and your body relaxed into his, Joel wrapped his arms tightly around your torso. He wished that moment to last forever, wanted to never have to let you go.
His tongue brushed your lower lip, asking for permission to breach the last divide between you two, and you graced him by opening your mouth and letting him taste you fully. His tongue was caressing yours while his hands were gliding over your back. Then Joel gently cupped your cheek and tilted his head to give you the best kiss he could. You were so sweet and soft, so warm and lovely on his tongue and he didn’t care that you could probably feel his cock swell against your belly. Your ability to make him hard in seconds was not a secret to the both of you and he bucked his hips against your body with a soft groan.
Joel felt your smile on his lips and playfully squeezed your ass cheeks.
You giggled, your mouth parting from his.
“Happy birthday, Joel,” you whispered, putting your head on his shoulder and nuzzling his neck.
“Thank you for the best birthday present, baby.”
Joel kissed your forehead and you fluttered your eyes shut with a happy smile.
“Sweetheart?” he called.
“Yes.”
“Will you have dinner with me?”
You lifted your head and your eyes locked.
“Like— on a date?”
“Yes.”
Your lips twisted into the widest grin he’d seen on you and you nodded.
“Really?” he asked, making sure that he was really that lucky, “Fuck, I know I’m not a catch. My life is chaotic and I’m a single dad and…”
“Shh,” you placed your finger on his lips and said softly, “I’d love to date you, Joel Miller.”
Joel beamed at you and embraced you in a tight hug.
“I quit escort,” you murmured against his chest and Joel furrowed his brows.
“Is it because of me? Sweetheart, I’d never ask you to quit your job. If you like it I won’t …”
“I don’t. I don’t like it anymore. After that guy I realized I wanna do something else.”
“Ok. Whatever you decide, baby,” he said and then added with a little smile, “I can still pay you though.”
You laughed at him and playfully punched his shoulder. “Shut up, Joel.”
He took your face between his big palms, marveling at your beautiful face, and whispered, “You know how to shut me up, baby.”
You smiled and pressed your lips to his.
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Joel opened his eyes to see the early morning sun peeking through the blinds and your face twisted in pleasure just before his. He soon realized that your wet warm pussy was wrapped around his hard cock and you were slowly grinding against him, lying on your side, face to face, your leg thrown over his waist.
He moaned at the sudden pleasure and you noticed that he was up.
“I’m sorry for waking you up, honey. I just— I wanted you so much I couldn’t stop myself.”
You were breathing heavily and he wrapped his arms around your naked body and began rolling his hips, helping you to reach your high and chasing his.
“Never apologize for this, baby. I woke up in heaven thanks to you.”
You smiled and kissed him while his hand slithered between your slightly sweaty bodies and he slid his thumb between your folds to stroke your hardened clit. He was swallowing your moans and tried to get his own ecstatic growling under control, not wishing to wake up Sarah.
Soon you both exploded in each other’s arms and Joel flooded your pussy with his warm cum while you were writhing and trembling with euphoria against him.
When your climax subsided, you rested your head on his shoulder. He was drawing patterns on your back until you lifted your head to give him one more kiss.
“Sarah wanted pancakes for breakfast. I’m gonna go make some batter,” you said, getting out of bed and putting on your robe.
“I’ll help you. Be up in a minute.”
You smiled at him and bent over to give him a peck on the cheek but he swiftly pulled you back into his embrace, searching for your lips. You giggled and soon melted into his arms, while he was kissing you, passion and love in every stroke of his lips and tongue.
You were his, fully and completely, and all the fears evaporated when he realized that you were the final puzzle piece, missing from his life. He would do anything to make you happy.
“I love you,” Joel whispered against your lips.
“I love you too,” you murmured back.
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Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic, it motivates me to write more stories for you, lovelies!❤️
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aliceramblez · 8 months
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Dating the Hazbin Hotel Residents 😈
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Tags: GN!Reader, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Mature Topics (ie. Suicidal Thoughts, Alcohol Abuse, SA, etc), Spoilers For The Show, etc.
A/N: Ahhh yes, more brainriot for the pile 😌 I was more of a Helluva gal before the show aired, but now I gotta say these blorbos are a dear part of my heart! Hopefully y'all enjoy these as much as I did writing them!
Consider following my main blog @taruchinator for more solid content & feel free to leave a request here for future HCs~
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Charlie 🌈
When the Happy Hotel first opened its doors and all of Hell started making a mockery of it, you were probably the only one who took it as a sign to try and improve from the low life that you were. It's not like you had anything else to live for, anyway.
As soon as you enter the building, you're immediately greeted by the bubbly Princess of Hell herself (along with a reluctant Angel Dust) who is more than happy to show you around and welcomes you with open arms.
You've never been shown this much kindness and sympathy for your situation before, so it naturally takes you aback and makes you wonder what the catch is. Turns out there's none and the Princess is probably the only sweet soul to live in this shithole.
As you grow closer, she asks you to drop the title and just call her Charlie. She also shares a bit about her situation and how her mother wanted to save sinners from the extermination each year, and now Charlie felt like it was her duty to continue this legacy until her dreams came true.
You can't help but feel touched over how much she cares, so you silently vow to yourself to help her in any way you can, just like she's done for you.
It doesn't take long before the two of you grow even closer and feelings begin to blossom, but you decide to ignore them since why would a Princess ever like someone like you?
But Charlie proves you wrong yet again, since one day she comes to you a blushing mess and confesses her own feelings, asking if you'd like to go out with her. You can't help but vocalize your shock since she could do so much better than a random sinner. She deserved better, too.
She looks at you with fondness in her eyes. “You've been by my side for so long and supported me every step of the way. Who wouldn't fall for someone like that?”
And thus, you are the luckiest person in Hell because you scored Charlotte Morningstar, and whoever says otherwise can get a knife to their throat.
She's the perfect definition of a sweet and patient girlfriend, never pushing you to do anything you aren't comfortable with (since you really aren't used to such adoration in a romantic relationship), but as soon as you give her the get-go, she'll be sure to shower you with as much affection as she can until the doubts in your mind disappear completely.
You aren't that far behind either. Albeit not as good as her, you do your best to be a comforting partner whenever she needs you. This is especially necessary after an extermination happens, which always leaves Charlie devastated and in need of a hug or words of encouragement because she doubts herself sometimes and wonders if the hotel is even working at all.
You remind her how it brought the two of you together, to which she smiles and agrees that at least something good has come out of it so far.
Vaggie 🎀
Both you and Vaggie used to work in the same legion under Adam with the rest of his exorcists. You knew of each other's existence, but didn't really talk much aside from whatever was needed in the midst of battle.
The day she spares a demon child's life, you're doing your rounds nearby and witness the whole exchange, including Lute coming over and ripping both an eye and Vaggie's wings for showing mercy. You don't know why, but it makes your blood boil.
“HEY! What are you doing?! It was just a kid, why not let it slide?”
And just like that, you become a target of Lute's rage as well, being ripped from your angelic status along with receiving a few nasty cuts, yet surprisingly not as bad as Vaggie herself.
Once the two of you are left to die, you immediately try to tend the girl's wounds with whatever you can. Vaggie can only stare in disbelief at what you'd done and questions why you even did so in the first place—now you were stuck just like she was.
“Guess I just don't like seeing injustice... Who knew Heaven could be so fuckin' shitty?”
You both laugh at the irony of it all, and that's when luck is finally on your side as Charlie finds you in the dirty alley and brings you back to the hotel to heal properly.
For the next three years you two stay at the Hazbin Hotel, helping Charlie in any way you can to try and make her dream a reality since deep down you hope that despite Heaven's corrupt system, there can be a small chance that souls can be redeemed. You hide the fact that you're ex-Anges though, since you don't wanna cause unnecessary drama.
During this time period, the two of you become better friends, having your own inside jokes regarding things you didn't particularly enjoy from your time as Angels, as well as learning more about one another.
You're the one to come to terms with your feelings first and decide to lay them on the table for Vaggie to see—she's always been a straight-to-the-point kind of gal, so if you're about to be rejected, might as well have it be done quick. But of course, she replies with her own declaration and desire to give a relationship a shot, which you're ecstatic about!
It's a bit hard at first since you never got to see much of romantic relationships in Heaven while training for murder every year, but you try and make it work. Both you and Vaggie work endlessly to try and make the other happy, and it only makes you fall for each other even more.
Also Charlie is your go-to wingwoman who will be there to give you the best advice to try and woo your girlfriend. She ships you two so hard.
Angel Dust 🕸
Working at a porn studio under an Overlord who owns your soul can be exhausting. You know this better than anyone since everyone who works under Valentino has contracts that won't let you get far with a leash. This is especially true with your friend Angel Dust.
You know about the things Valentino does to the spider demon—hell, everyone in the studio probably knows, but know better than to say anything about it. You're always there for Angel after particularly rough shoots, doing your best to comfort him in any way you can, though there isn't much you can do given you're in the same spot.
When he tells you he's moving to Princess Charlie's Hazbin Hotel, you're so happy for him! At least that will give him some distance from Valentino and his disgustingly filthy hands when he's not working.
This unsurprisingly doesn't bode well with the Overlord, causing him to throw fits of rage around the studio when Angel leaves for the day. You can't help but make a snarky comment that you definitely regret moments later.
“Can one blame him for wanting space from such an overbearing asshole?”
Without his favorite stress toy around, you end up paying the price for such comments. The kind of pain and suffering he puts you through is completely different from what you're used to. Is this the stuff he does to Angel? He leaves you naked, bruised and bloody in your room, and all you can do is muster what little strenght you have left to head for the Hazbin Hotel.
As soon as the door opens, you immediately tumble forward and start losing consciousness. The last thing you remember is Angel's horrified expression before it all fades to black.
Once you wake up and have been patched up, you explain what happened at the studio, and you could've sworn you saw fire in Angel's eyes as he holds on to you, fearing you might disappear at any moment. He begs you to stay in the hotel with him, and you agree without hesitation.
And so, your new routine of heading to work and then coming back to the hotel becomes blissful, not having to deal with that lunatic mothman more than necessary. You also get to spend time off with your best friend, which is always a plus.
Well, ‘best friend’ might not be the best way to describe it. You'd developed a crush on the spider demon even before this whole incident occurred, and now that you were spending more time with him, it only continued to grow.
With the line of work you two had, romantic relationships didn't seem to be a thing that crossed anybody's mind since why have a permanent partner when you could just go around fucking the hottest people in Hell? But you knew your feelings were far beyond from sexual, but didn't wanna ruin what you already had going for you.
One heartfelt drunken conversation after work however, makes you do a double take—Angel likes you back. And that both scares and excites you. But with both of you going over the pros and cons with each other, you decide to give it a chance.
You make sure to always have Angel's consent when it comes to physical intimacy—anything from holding his hand, to kissing to just cuddling. He jokes about not being a porcelain doll, but deep down you know he appreciates it.
You're also there for the rough nights, when he comes home wanting nothing more than to die again and let the earth swallow him whole. Words of reassurance are spoken and you can only hold him and let him cry as you vow to do anything in your power to stop this from happening again.
Husker 🍺
As one of the first guests of the hotel, like any wayward sinner, you find yourself in the bar more often than you'd like. Alcohol killed you in the first place, yet not even in the afterlife could you seem to pull yourself from its grasp.
It's a somewhat welcome surprise to find out that the bartender is going through a similar struggle. He still serves you drinks and lends and ear whenever he's not busy, but will occasionally drop the words of wisdom to watch your fill.
Eventually you two find yourselves doing this little back and forth and aid each other when you're in your dark places—Husk won't let you near the bottle if he sees you're about to knock yourself out, meanwhile you're there to look after him when he has one too many drinks and can't take care of himself.
Not to say he isn't a good drinking buddy—you've found out most of the gossip around the hotel thanks to this sneaky little cat demon and there's never a dull moment with him around.
You learn about his deal with Alastor during a particularly bad night, when Husk's had one too many and isn't thinking straight. You don't bring it up, but now have an eye open for whenever the Radio Demon drags your friend away.
Angel's the one who brings up your questionable relationship to the surface.
“So... you two like, fuckin' each other, or what?”
Your entire face goes red, and if it weren't for the dark fur you could swear you see Husk looking the same. He's quick to get rid of Angel's nosy ass, but now the seed has been planted in your brain—do you like Husk that way?
After careful consideration, you come to the conclusion that yes, you do. And it's honestly kinda terrifying considering how relationships don't usually work out in Hell, at least from what you've seen. Besides, even if you did try and confess, there was always the possibility of him not feeling the same and just being embarrassed by Angel's comment.
So in an attempt to make your feelings disappear, you stop frequenting the bar. Who knew the best way to stop drinking habits was trying to avoid spending time with your unrequited crush?
But of course, Husk isn't stupid. He sees the change in your behavior and let's it slide for a while, until he eventually corners you and asks what's wrong. You decide to get it all out of the way and tell him how you feel.
To the embarrassment of both of you, he holds your hand firmly between his and darts his eyes toward the corner of the room. “Next time you should ask before going off assuming things, ya got it?”
And so, your glass may have been empty that day, but your heart had never felt fuller.
Sir Pentious 🐍
You meet Sir Pentious when you sign into the hotel, and your immediate thought is just how can this snake man be so adorkable, it should be illegal.
As you greet the other residents and staff, you're quick to strike a conversation with him, which based on his body language he was not expecting. He starts telling you a bit about his weaponry and other contraptions, and you can't help but be fascinated by it.
You're a bit of a tinkerer yourself, albeit you've only dabbled in small scale projects—nothing compared to the massive canons and aircrafts that Pentious seems to be familiar with.
He acts like a kid opening gifts on Sinmas when he talks to you about his inventions, clearly never having anyone show interest before. Eventually he'll even ask for your input on certain smaller projects he wants to work on to help around the hotel, all to thank Charlie for being so kind to him and giving him a second chance. You're obviously eager to help!
You two start spending so much time together that the egg boys have started calling you ‘Boss #2’, much to Pentious' embarrassment and your amusement.
One afternoon once exercises are done for the day, the snake demon seems much more fidgety than usual as he invites you over to his room to continue working on his security system prototype. He's a blabbering mess once he has you sitting down and your heart just can't help but swell at each little syllable.
“Dearest (y/n)... you've, um, well... you are a huge inspiration for my work! A-And I wouldn't have been able to create any of this... without your help. You are kind, and smart and very talented.... and w-well, um I-”
You gotta silence the man with a kiss otherwise you two would be here all day. He's puddy in your hands and you can only giggle in return. “I really like you too, Pen.”
Everyone is either saying they called it or groaning in annoyance because fucking FINALLY, you two were just dancing around each other like idiots. The egg boys are just so happy to have someone else besides Pentious to be in their lives, and will do their best to look out for you just like with their own boss.
So yeah, prepare yourself for some sickeningly sweet gestures from this guy cause he will go above and beyond to get you what you need/want even if it kills him (again). And you can confidently say that you'd do the same in return.
Alastor 📻
After running in the same circles when you were alive, it's no surprise to you to end up in Hell, although you never would've suspected that you'd find yourself in the same place as him. It was honestly a huge relief not having to go through this all by yourself.
As Alastor exerted his dominance over Hell as the Radio Demon, you were powerful enough to be an Overlord yes, but rather liked keeping it on the down low instead of making a spectacle of yourself (Alastor was the one for theatrics anyway). Because of this, only select few knew of your true power and what you were capable of.
Instead, if there was one thing you were known for, it was being the only soul allowed to be close to the Radio Demon without the risk of death.
Yes, Alastor was a sadistic, cold-blooded and egotistical mastermind, but he wasn't a monster. You knew that better than anyone. Although the reactions he had to other demons treating you like a joke or calling you the ‘Radio Demon's Pet’ were not helping his case.
“ł₣ ɎØɄ V₳ⱠɄɆ ɎØɄⱤ ₴ØɄⱠ, ɎØɄ ₩łⱠⱠ ₩₳Ⱡ₭ ₳₩₳Ɏ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₦Ø₩ ฿Ɇ₣ØⱤɆ ł Ɽł₱ ł₮ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ฿ł₮ ฿Ɏ ฿ł₮...”
“Al, chill. You're gonna make them shit their pants.”
After his seven year absence, you immediately noticed something was wrong with him, and wouldn't stop pestering until he told you the truth—A deal he made and how his soul was now bound to someone much more powerful than he was.
You were obviously mortified and started looking into ways to try and find a loophole to this, but alas the Radio Demon would just give you his signature grin and tell you not to worry about it. It was his battle to face.
But of course you're quick to remind him that you've stuck together through thick and thin even in life, so there was no way you were letting him handle this by himself. You work as a team—always have and always will. You engulf him in a hug.
“We're gonna figure this out, Al. I promise...”
The grin remains, but his eyes widen slightly in surprise. He hesitantly returns the embrace, patting your back and wiping the tears you didn't even know you were shedding.
“There there~ To think such a sweet and innocent soul wound up in a gutter like this. I cannot say I complain as long as I have your delightful company beside me.”
And so when he says he has a plan that involves Princess Charlie Morningstar and her new Happy Hotel, you follow along. Whatever fate has in store for you two, you'll be ready.
Also Charlie is a sweetheart who could do no harm. Knowing Alastor, he'll probably do whatever he can here and there to help around for the cause. You also offer your services as an undercover Overlord, much to everyone's surprise when you reveal your status.
The Radio Demon may have a plan, but something tells you it won't involve bloody murder (unless extremely necessary or if someone really pissed him off).
Like you said—he's not a monster.
Lucifer 🍎
You and Lucifer were good friends at the beginning of Creation. While you were stuck with the tedious task of designing blueprints for the new ‘Human Project’ that headquarters had in store, Lucifer's Seraphim status allowed him to bring creations to life with the flick of a wrist, much to your delight and wonder.
His ideas and pitches for Earth were always so entertaining to listen to, and you would do your best to encourage him to show them to the higher ups to get them approved—His mind was just filled with joy and love and wonder that you'd never seen before.
Which was why it was always so disappointing whenever he'd come back and say that he was shut down and even mocked at. How could Heaven shut down such an imaginative mind in the creation of their biggest project yet?
To say you were devastated when you heard about his fall would be an understatement. You mourned the loss of your friend, knowing that he'd done nothing wrong and thinking it wasn't fair to him to receive such punishment just because he cared for the future of humanity.
Thousands of years later, you overhear the plan for Extermination of Hell kind. You didn't mean to walk by, yet here you were, under the direct eye of the Head Seraphims about to be downcast for something you had no control over—just like Lucifer.
“You're all self-entitled pricks! You think you can do whatever you want just because it doesn't follow what you define as good!”
You get a few good arguments before being cast downwards, leaving you in bad shape in a random alley with no wings and no means of escape. That is of course, until destiny seems to be on your side and Lucifer finds you, completely perplexed to see you here at all.
After getting treated, you tell him about the Extermination so he and Hell can prepare. The conversation of you getting cast down by Heaven gets glossed over, but he can feel the fury building up inside him. You were always doing things by the book—how could they do this to you?
Once the slaughter is over, Lucifer gets a meeting with Heaven and secures protection for both his daughter Charlie and you, to which they begrudgingly agree to keep him outta their hair. You can't help but feel touched by this gesture.
He's also quick to offer you a room to stay in, but you compromise by living in a seperate building from him and Charlie so you aren't a bother even though he says you aren't. In fact, ever since Lilith left, he's had to take care of his young daughter all by himself, so he's more than happy when you offer to help.
It doesn't take long for your feelings to start coming into the surface from all those years ago, and you gotta push them away because he's both married and has a child to look after! Besides, why would the King of Hell ever look in your direction?
Eventually though, he brings up the question with nothing but sweaty palms and a customized rubber ducky that says ‘I love you’ whenever you squeeze it. You blush furiously, but can't help but bring up your concerns, not wanting to replace Lilith in his heart. He looks into your eyes and says that he hasn't been as happy as he is now in the past thousand years.
Cue baby Charlie walking in on everything, and she just smiles and goes innocently. “Daddy! Is (y/n) staying home with us now?”
You two can only chuckle at the cuteness of it and you immediately go to hug her. You couldn't believe that you were blessed with such a wonderful family.
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kyletogaz · 2 months
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title: not your usual [redacted] story pairing: johnny x plus-sized fem!reader summary: there’s a reason why he won’t leave. cw: smut with feelings, johnny being a menace to society words: 3k+
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you really shouldn't be surprised to see your neighbor johnny chilling on your couch when you walk through the door, but you are.
you could have sworn you told him you wanted to be alone today.
that man has a habit of loitering in your apartment whenever you’re out. you’d be so irritated whenever you came home to see him lounging on your couch, as if he was the one paying the damn bills around here. you've told him to fuck off plenty of times, but he refuses. and it’s not like you can have him physically removed either.
try it if ye wan’ to, hen.
you’ve filed multiple complaints with your landlord, but he just looks at you like you’re crazy, before asking you if you’re unwell. because you weren’t sure what he meant by that, you stopped coming to him. maybe he was the crazy one.
fed up, you threatened to call the cops on johnny’s ass. your threats did nothing to keep him away though, it only made him worse. walking around your apartment with his stupid boots on, even though you’ve asked him a thousand times to take them off. rearranging things on your coffee table, opening your mail, stealing your underwear, and snooping through your personal items. hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he slept in your bed whenever you were away.
you think johnny’s favorite thing to do, just to further the torment, is to throw away your toys. and it’s even worse when he makes slick comments about you needing a real cock in your pussy. at the time, you were so stunned, your words had failed you when you tried to tell him off.
and then there’s his mouth. johnny’s a yapper. he never stops talking, whether it’s about the military, his family, or his friends. any information you didn’t ask for, he’ll tell you all about it anyway. sometimes you find his incessant talking endearing. it made you feel less lonely in your apartment. other times, you really wish you could glue his mouth shut for a few hours, just to have some quiet time.
you think the most off putting thing about johnny is the creepy shit he does, things that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. it always has you thinking he’s not entirely human. the unnerving staring, when he's lying down and his body is perfectly still, too still for it to be considered normal. or when johnny doesn't blink at all, and you’ve convinced yourself that there’s something terribly wrong with him. and he’s always looming when he’s close to you. it scares the shit out of you, but you never bring it up.
if you didn’t know any better, you’d say johnny mactavish was haunting you.
when johnny gives you a lazy wave, you don’t bother getting yourself worked up, as you breeze past him to get to your bedroom. all you do is offer him two words, “get out."
johnny follows you like a damn puppy of course. "bunny, ye dinnae mean that,” he whines, a pout already forming on his lips while he’s leaning against your doorframe.
you fix him with a glare when you hear the nickname he’s given you. “how many times do i have to tell you to stop calling me that? and i meant every word, johnny. go home.” you’re exhausted and you just want some peace and quiet. you want him to leave.
but johnny doesn’t leave. he’s told you time and time again he doesn’t answer to you.
asshole, you think to yourself, before rolling your eyes at him.
your peace lasts for all of five minutes, before johnny starts touching your shit. you’re rummaging through your closet, when you hear your dresser drawers being slammed shut. when you turn your head, your eyes narrow in suspicion at the sight of johnny feigning innocence, as if he didn’t just have his hands on a pair of your panties.
“do i come to your house and meddle in your shit? stay out of my dresser, johnny!” you can feel a scream trying to work its way out of your mouth, but you suppress it. you really wish he would go terrorize someone else.
yeah right, as if that’ll ever happen.
your eye actually twitches when he flings himself onto your bed and gets comfortable. you’re obviously staring at him longer than you should be, because your breath hitches a little when his shirt rides up, giving you a lovely view of muscles and body hair. your not so subtle staring turns into full blown gawking when johnny slips a hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, making your mouth go dry the same time slick starts to gather in your panties.
shit.
you snap out of it when you realize that this is johnny you’re ogling. “get out of my bed, mactavish.” your words come out colder than intended. you try not to shrink away when piercing blue eyes meet your gaze.
“what’s wi’ that attitude of yers, bunny?” johnny asks coolly. there’s an edge to his tone and a tick in his jaw. “need me tae fuck it out of ye?” he snorts at the scandalized look you give him.
“as if i would ever let you touch me!”
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that was over 24 hours ago when you made that statement, and now here you were on your back, pussy wet, and full of want while johnny took his sweet time exploring your soft body.
"why are you so damn cold?" you hiss when two large hands cups your tits, a whine leaving your throat when the hands are suddenly replaced by johnny’s hot, wet mouth.
he ignores your question, hoping you won’t ask again. it’s not like you can anyway, with the way he’s distracting you with his mouth. he licks and sucks your nipples until they’re covered in his saliva. a soft laugh slips past his lips when your fingers sink into his overgrown mohawk, as you drag him up for a kiss.
johnny puts everything into the kiss. he’s nipping at your bottom lip and doing his best to shove his tongue down your throat. you pull away to gasp softly when his thick fingers slip between your slick folds, letting out a pitiful sound of disappointment when he removes them almost immediately. and then he’s pressing those glistening fingers to your lips and telling you to open up. when you don’t move fast enough, he pries your mouth open then slips his fingers in.
“taste yerself, bun.” you do as you’re told, sucking your own pussy juice off johnny’s fingers. you ignore the way your heart flutters when he coos at you and calls you his good girl and tells that he would have done this sooner if it would have kept you from hissing and spitting at him like a damn cat. he’s got you right where he wants you, in bed and eager to take his cock.
johnny loves the way you whine and spread your legs wider for him when he drags his cock up and down your sticky folds, smearing precum all over your pussy. you have to stop yourself from begging, when he teases your hole with the tip of his cock. he does it repeatedly, until you’re blinking away tears of frustration.
you sniffle when he cups your jaw and says in a sickeningly sweet tone, “poor bunny, thought ye hated me. now look at ye beggin’ for mah cock.” the laugh he lets out is mean and it hurts your feelings.
“please,” you whimper, voice cracking and eyes full of tears. “i don’t hate you, johnny.” you may be telling the truth, but he looks a bit skeptical.
you open your mouth to speak again, but johnny’s already feeding his cock into your pussy, inch by inch, and groaning because of how wet and tight you are. the way your spongy walls clench around him when he’s fully engulfed, is enough to make his head spin.
“fuck, bunny. ye feel so good stretched out aroun’ mah cock,” johnny moans in your ear. “feels like this cunt was made f’me.”
the first thrust knocks the air out of your lungs and has you shrieking and clawing at the skin on johnny’s back. “do that again,” you beg breathlessly, not caring if you sound desperate. you want him to ruin you.
like the obedient mutt he is, johnny obeys, and does it again and again and again, until you’re wailing and creaming around his cock. you’re a bit shocked at how fast your orgasm crept up on you. not offering you any respite, johnny demands for you to give him one more, and you almost tell him that you’ll give him anything, as long as he keeps fucking you like this. he’s fucking you like it’s his last night on earth, his fingers intertwined with yours, while he moans and pants in your ear. johnny’s fat cock pistoning in and out of your fat pussy while he hits your g-spot repeatedly is almost too much for you to handle.
all you can do you is cry and writhe up under johnny while he gives you the best dick of your life. your pussy nearly strangles him to death when he chants mine mine mine with every snap of his hips. you're not his. you can't be, you refuse. and yet, when johnny asks whose pussy is this? you sob and tell him, it’s yours, johnny.
“what about ye?” he asks through gritted teeth, “yer mine, yeah?”
there’s no hesitation in your voice when you answer with a breathy, “yes, i’m yours.”
deep down, you feel like you’ve bonded yourself to him with those three words.
“thas’ right, bunny. mine. gonna keep ye forever,” johnny snarls, before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your throat and giving a powerful thrust that has you howling his name and digging your nails into his back.
he’s marking you as his.
you’ll panic later when you’re not getting fucked stupid and johnny’s thick fingers aren’t toying with your puffy clit. he doesn’t stop rubbing your sensitive bud until your back is arching and your thighs are shaking, as your orgasm hits you like a freight train.
“ye okay, bunny?” johnny asks once you can breathe again. his brow is furrowed in concentration and his forehead is slick with sweat while he continues to grind into your pussy, groaning at the filthy squelching sounds coming from between your thighs.
you answer with a garbled moan. how are you supposed to give him a coherent response when his cock is making you see stars and driving you insane.
johnny lets out a huff of laughter, before he rolls off of you and pulls you on top of him, using one hand to guide his length back into your slick pussy. “c’mon bunny, be nice for once and fuck me.”
soft cries spill from your lips when you start to grind your overstimulated pussy on johnny’s cock. with your head tossed back, you can’t see the way he stares up at you in complete and utter adoration. he’s enjoying the way your tits and belly bounce while you ride his leaking cock, and the way you cry out his name and claw at his chest. johnny’s so enamored with you and you don’t even know it.
he still hasn’t worked up the courage to tell you his secret, something he should have told you before you let him touch you. he’s been wanting to for weeks, but he’s never found the right time to do so. it’s getting harder for him to keep a lid on it. simon keeps telling him to end it. she’ll go running for the hills when she finds out what you are. he told johnny to stop coming by your place, to leave you alone and let you live your life. but johnny’s selfish. he’ll never leave let you go, especially now that he’s finally got you split open on his cock.
“fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” johnny moans, his grip on the your hips almost painful.
you cum before he does, pussy spasming and choking his cock while you moan his name, “johnny!”
the way you say his name unlocks something in him. johnny holds you close to his chest, murmuring soft words against your lips that you don’t even think are being spoken in english, thrusts becoming more frenzied as he fucks up into your worn out pussy. he doesn’t stop until up his thrusts become sloppy and his hips stutter. the drawn out moan that leaves his throat when he fills you to the brim with his cum is like music to your ears.
when johnny comes down, he strokes his hands up and down your back. he asks you if you’re okay, and all you can do is whimper. you’re a little surprised at how sweet he is with aftercare, bathing you and helping you get dressed before he puts you to bed. and the last thing you feel before you fall asleep, is a pair of cool lips on your forehead.
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“you sure you gave me the correct name? there are no tenants in the building who goes by the name johnny. i've checked the records several times for previous tenants as well."
what?
"i don't understand," you blurt out, sounding as confused as you probably look. "this isn't making sense. what about the name john? have you tried that?”
"i did that as well,” your landlord says. he gives you a look of concern when you let out a groan. “are you sure this johnny person isn’t a squatter?”
he can’t be. johnny knows too much about the people and their business in this building. he wasn’t a squatter.
you shook your heard at the old man, “that’s not possible.”
your landlord just simply shrugs and says, “well if he isn’t a squatter, then he probably lives with one of the residents in this building.“
“well, that’s just perfect,” you mutter, voice dripping with sarcasm and a hint of annoyance.
how the hell are you even supposed to find the person johnny could possibly be living with? you don’t know half of the people in your building. they’ll probably think you’re insane if you knock on their door to ask them if they’re harboring a scot with an overgrown mohawk.
before your annoyance can settle in, you ask the man if any of your neighbors are in the military. it’s the best place to start if you’re going to track johnny down. and luckily for you, there is one person who goes by the name of simon riley.
you stare at the computer screen in surprise when you spot simon’s apartment number. “he lives on my floor,” you utter in disbelief.
“yes,” the bespectacled man confirms. “across the hall and just a few doors down. he’s retired from the military. think he’s a butcher now.”
you’re already out of the door and thanking him before he can blink. you make your way up to your floor with johnny on the brain. you haven’t seen him in almost a week, and it feels like he’s avoiding you. it takes every ounce of strength you’ve got in you, to keep from having a breakdown. after he’d fucked you six ways to sunday, you woke up thinking johnny would still be curled around you, but he wasn’t. he’d left, and you’d never felt so alone. much to your dismay, your eyes start to sting as the urge to cry presents itself.
johnny owed you an explanation for his actions, and you were going to get one.
you’re not sure how long you stand in front of simon’s door, just staring at the silver number plates, before you work up the nerve to knock. you bite your lip nervously when you hear the someone unlocking the door. you almost took a step back when the door swung open to reveal a hulking figure. it was definitely simon. he was so fucking big and pretty.
“you must be johnny’s bird,” he says gruffly, lips quirking up into a small smile. “was wonderin’ when you would show up.”
you stare up at simon in surprise, before murmuring a soft greeting. “is he inside?”
simon offers you a silent nod, before stepping aside to let you in. when you walk through the foyer and into the living room, you swear you him mutter something about you not being the only person johnny haunts. but then he’s speaking again, louder this time. “show yourself, mactavish,” he barks, before taking a seat on the sofa.
and leave it up to johnny to make an appearance that almost scares you half to death. he walks right through the wall to your right, making you flinch away from him with a terrified shriek.
johnny froze, and so did you. somewhere in the background you can hear rumbling laughter. you must be losing your mind, because there was absolutely no fucking way johnny just walked through simon’s wall. a wall that’s supposed to be solid, a wall that a human shouldn’t even be able to phase through.
and then it all comes rushing back to you at once. johnny popping up whenever he wanted, even when you asked him to relinquish the key you thought he stole from your landlord. never hearing your door shut when you finally managed to convince him that you needed your alone time. you thought about how johnny knew certain things you thought no one should know. the creepy comments he would make about death. when he never tasted any of the food you offered. he’d spent most of his time lying through his teeth about having a special diet.
you know what he is now, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. you’ll probably scream if you do.
“bunny?! fuck, ye wasn’t supposed tae see that. christ, simon why would ye let her—”
“johnny….what?” your voice sounds faint to your own ears and you’re not feeling too great.
“bunny? shit, bunny?!”
johnny’s hands are on your arms, but you’re not really feeling him or hearing his words.
the last thing you see before your world tilts on its axis, is a pair of worried blue eyes.
-
a/n: what is he? and at want point in the fic did you realize it? maybe i’ll do a 2nd part.
masterlist
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areislol · 9 months
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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝SWEET!❞
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►— pairings. various genshin men x fem! reader
►— warnings. smut, cursing, dirty talk, just smutty. implied reader has somewhat thick thighs, 18+ fingering, MDNI
►— synopsis. an alternative title, how do they eat pussy?
►— a/n. been having these thoughts for a bit now i need to jot them down before my obsession grows worse.
►— wordcount. 2.3k
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they eat that pussy like it's a religion, his head buried in between your legs, his hands gripping onto your thighs tightly, using his strength to keep your thighs still and from closing in. his eyes are focused solely on your face as he languidly drags his tongue into a line on your wet pussy.
he's addicted, to say the least. the smell, the taste, the lewd and dirty sounds you were making, he loved it all, and all the while as his mouth latches onto your poor abused cunt he whispers the sweetest things in your ear, dirty words as well. he switches between both. on the rare occasions that he does tease you he will whisper the most vile and dirty things you've ever heard, but most of the time he's just craving you, he just can't wait, once you give him the word that he could go down on you he wastes no time and before you know it he's sandwiched between your thighs and giving you an orgasm.
every time he eats you out he reminds you of a starving animal (if you didn't know any better), every time he eats you out you are a mess, and your pussy is a mess. your juices, sweat and saliva combined created a nasty sight it made him achingly hard but even so he prioritizes your pleasure first as he grinds his bulge on the bed. your moans and praises as you grip his hair and push his head deeper in were all he needed while jerking your hips at the same time.
his nose rested on your clit, the air hitting your clit as his tongue relentlessly flicked up and down your folds, he sucks and kisses your clit before adding a finger in. yes, although he does love to eat you out he also loves fingering you as well, the sweet moans and screams you let out just get him so hard it motivates him to eat you out even more. not that he plans on stopping. he barely teases you, he doesn't like the idea of stripping you of the chance to cum because truth be told he really really wants you to cum on his face (and sometimes he unintentionally overstimulates you).
— XIAO, CHILDE, kaveh, CYNO, WRIOTHESLEY, thoma, lyney, VENTI, itto, gorou
teases you while eating you out and teases you before eating you out, he knew what you wanted but continued to tease you, savouring every moment when you squirm and whine for him to go down on you. he's mean, he doesn't stick to one pace and instead chooses to go slow and fast, it's just how your face contorts when he buries his face against your pussy and begins to lick and slurp your folds and just when you're about to cum (he has been teasing your poor pussy for so long the second he begins to actually eat you out you're too sensitive, that's him to blame) he slows down his pace, a frustrated cry leaving your lips as tears brim your eyes, you just wanted him to do it properly.
he doesn't mind fingering you as he licks your clit but he finds it satisfyingly when he knows only he can make you cum with his tongue, when he feels nice he'll finger you with one or two fingers, pumping in and out of your mushy walls as his tongue rolls over your sensitive bud, his tactic never fails to get you cumming in no time.
he won't lie, he loves seeing you in tears as he continues to tease your bud and clit with his tongue, he isn't even giving it his all, his cheeks aren't even pressed against your inner thighs and here you are, let out cries for him to please eat you out, it's adorable. and when he thinks you're ready and he had enough teasing you already he's already lapping at your folds and humming, the vibrations and hums on your sensitive skin make it all the more pleasurable. he isn't that bad though, when he feels bad for you or feels like you've endured enough teasing he'll make sure to make it up by eating you out good (not saying he never does).
that doesn't mean he's not done being mean to you though, he's heavy on eye contact. he loves making eye contact with you as he brutally violates your clit, and he lives to see the faces you make as he inserts one finger in your soaking pussy, juices spilling out of your greedy hole, he loves seeing how you gasp when he swiftly slips in another finger, teasing you as he says how wet you were that he could easily fit in a third finger.
but he hates when you look away in embarrassment, he'll stop doing what he's doing—he'll stop his fingers from bottoming in and out of your pussy, and he'll stop his sucking and licking at your clit when you look away from embarrassment, "getting shy now are we? guess that means i'll have to stop.." you whine and quickly look back at him, looking down and meeting his eyes, his gaze was hot and intense, mouth and cheeks wet with your juices and his saliva, it was dirty.
"keep looking at me as i fuck you with my tongue, you understand? i want to see your face as you cum, i want you to watch me as i make you cum, got that?"
— ALHAITHAM, AYATO, WANDERER, pierro, PANTALONE, TIGHNARI, HEIZOU, DOTTORE, capitano
gentle and soft yet never fails to make you orgasm hard, he relishes in watching your dripping entrance as you wait for him to go down on you. he takes things slow and is very passionate, he considers himself a lucky man every time he eats you out because he knows only he is allowed to be in this position, no one else. he is sort of possessive when in the act when he really thinks about it, no one has eaten your pussy out this good, your moans and cries are only for him to hear.
despite him taking it slowly he is a god at eating pussy (you can't change my mind), he plants soft and tender kisses on your thighs before slowly reaching your inner thighs, you whine and beg for him to hurry up but he only shushes you and reminds you to be patient. "ah, remember to be patient love, i want to savour this moment.." you let out a soft moan and bring your head backwards when he finally kissed your clit.
his hands are tightly yet tenderly holding your legs apart, his hands grabbing a hold of the soft plush of your thighs. he leans in closer to your pussy, his thumb prying your wet pussy slightly open, he stares at it in awe before softly blowing on it, the cold air hitting your sensitive folds. your back arches as a shaky sigh escapes your lips, he looks up from his position and smirks before latching his mouth onto your pussy, it was all so sudden it caught you off-guard but within a couple of seconds the pleasure had taken over your body, your mind was clouded with nothing but pleasure.
he loves it when you yank and grip his hair, pulling him in closer to your pussy just to create more friction. you were so greedy it was cute so he always allowed it, he hummed and moaned softly as he ate you out, the vibrating sensation never failed you made your legs tremble and he knew it. he nips and softly (just barely) bites at your folds before covering them with a long kiss and when he releases he lets out a "pop!", your moans grow louder and louder the more he licks and slurps at your sensitive dripping entrance.
he knows when you're about to cum, the sound of your gasps and moans strained, the way your grip on his hair tightens as you try to pull him in closer to your pussy (it already is but he isn't complaining) and your hips jerking up—he closes his eyes, taking in the moment and makes sure to hold you steady when you finally reach your climax, thighs, hands and legs trembling from the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.
and even after cumming on his face he continues to eat you out (obsessed much), you try to push his head away but he only narrows his eyes at you, it was hot to see him maintaining eye contact with you so well as he licked and slurped up your sweet essence. "don't try to push me away now princess, not after you were so eager to cum and pushed me in so close. just another, please?"
he's the type, that even after you're passed out in bed from cumming, his head's still in between your thighs, bumping his nose onto your clit for stimulation as a few strands of hair tickled your thighs. he really enjoys eating you out, if you can't tell (he doesn't even stop even after you've done passed out) but you know what he enjoys as well? face sitting, the feeling of your soft thighs squeezing his head as you ride his face and nose is everything.
he ignores his own problem when eating you out, his cock was aching, all hot and bothered. but he didn't mind, if anything just seeing you cum from his tongue and mouth made him cum (happened too many times), he's too preoccupied with your pleasure anyway. although if you really do insist on helping him out then... (can he put his dick in?)
— ZHONGLI, DILUC, albedo, BAIZHU, DAINSLEIF, aether, kaeya, KAZUHA, NEUVILLETTE
definition of "pussy drunk", he LOVES eating you out.. so what if he suffocates between your thighs? he will gladly and happily suffocate between your thighs. although he is a bit shy doing it in public the thought of someone walking in the restroom and hearing the lustful moans coming from one closed stall makes him hard, at first he's soft and slow and kissing your thighs but that only lasts for a bit before he's literally making out with your pussy.
he LIVES to hear your praises when you mewl his name and cry out of pleasure, his lips swollen from burying his mouth deeper into your warm pussy, his nails digging into your thighs as juices (was it cum, saliva or sweat? who knows?) coated his chin, dribbling down his neck. it was a sticky mess and he loved it. his eyes are closed shut, brows furrowing his concentration as he sloppily laps over your hot, swollen puffy cunt. and when he does open his eyes he only does it to admire your soaking pussy coated with slick before licking up your cream, and his eyes? god they're so dazed and lustful it makes you feel embarrassed, real pussy drunk.
one thing he will never ever get enough of is the taste and how messy it gets. call him a freak or whatever you want but the sensation of his cheeks and mouth smothered by your juices and arousal as he gently nipped at your folds and slurped up all of your essence, is something to die for. the way your slick rolls down from his lips to his chin and down his neck, the tickling sensation is one he will never forget.
who knows what the slick is made up of? was it from your arousal? was it his spit and drool? perhaps both. there's just something irresistible about how dirty you could get just by his tongue and fingers that does something to him (not to mention the precum leaking out of his boxers), the more you cry out in pleasure and overstimulation makes him crack.
he's extremely skilled when eating pussy, that's just something he's naturally good at but you swear he gets better and better every time.. maybe you're too kind to let him eat you out nearly every day. but the more he goes down on you the more he learns—what spot you like the most, where's the most sensitive part, what combination you like, what pace... you get the jist. one of his favourite things is when you get too overwhelmed with pleasure to the point where your legs are shaking and pushing his head away, crying out for him to stop—that you were full.
"full? already? but i haven't even used my fingers yet..." he sighs (directly onto your pussy) and only ducks his head back in despite your futile attempts to push his head away, he knew your energy was low meaning you couldn't push him away even if you wanted to. he could eat out for hours on end, even days if he could (he would), he gets really delirious when eating you out, it's as if everything around him is gone, he's like his own little world with your pussy. the low groan and grumbled escaping his lips as he licks your clit up and down before sucking on it, letting go with a loud "pop!"
and once again he's back it, his tongue brazenly exploring your cunt before swirling at your poor sensitive bud, with every sharp and precise movement he makes he does it with every intention to make you cum, for like the third time. the way he's alternating between your clit and your needy hole makes your mind crazy, too fucked out to think about anything but the intense pleasure, and with every exhale his warm breath hits your flushed skin, his tongue lapping over your squishy folds. he'll never leave your pussy alone, will he?
— XIAO, ZHONGLI, ALHAITHAM, DILUC
the one thing they all have in common is that in the end when he pulls away he can't tell whether or not you're extremely wet because of your arousal/sweat or his saliva, or maybe it's both, who knows?
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note: uuuuhhhhhhh dialogue or the text itself may be a bit icky (I'M NOT GOOD AT WRITING SMUT) so if it irks you just stay quiet and go on about your day. (*′з`b)
taglist: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @v4an @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls if im missing anyone please tell me because i have an inkling feeling i missed a few..
liking + following + reblogs are very much appreciated!!!
another note: slightly proof read so if you found any spelling/grammar mistakes PLEASE tell me.
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veltana · 6 months
Text
Unleashed - Avengers!Bucky/Fem!Reader
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✦ Pairing: Avengers!Bucky Barnes/Fem!Reader
✦ Word count: ~4,2k
✦ Rating: Explicit
✦ Warnings/tags: Sex pollen adjacent kinda, smut, a bit fluffy, one shot, possessive!Bucky, co-workers/friends to lovers, oral sex (fem receiving), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasms, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praise, creampie, pet names (doll).
✦ Summary: During a mission, Bucky is exposed to something that removes his inhibitions and all he wants is you.
✦ Note: Previously posted on AO3 since I have basically no time or energy to write new stuff. It was titled You’re what I need before but I always hated that title so I decided to re-name it. Bucky is kind of an asshole in this, but it's just because he wants you! As always, reblogs, comments, and asks are very welcome ❤️
Masterlist | AO3
The worst part about watching from afar as a mission goes to shit is that you feel useless. Even as you dispatch medics for the team all you can do is tell them, "Help is on the way."
Captain America shouts orders that you hear through the comms. The wait feels endless until the crew of the quinjet declares that they have spotted the team and there's not much else for you to do but look at your monitors and wait for an update. When you get the call back that the team is secure you breathe a sigh of relief, but then the next message is to prepare the medical staff to receive multiple injuries and chemical exposure. You ask the crew to clarify, but they are too busy, so when you notify the medical center, they prepare a quarantine room.
Sometimes you wish you had a superpower and could be there with them instead of staring at your monitors and doing endless calculations on whatever the team needs. But then when they return they always compliment your work and tell you they don’t know how they managed without you. You try to remind yourself of those moments at times like this.
Once the quinjet is docked and everyone has been accounted for you push away from your desk and remove your headset, taking deep breaths and trying to calm your heart. A moment later a message pops up on your screen, probably because they couldn’t reach you through your comms. [Bucky wants you to come down here]
Your heart does a little flip in your chest, making you scowl. He is your friend and probably injured, you have no idea why he would be asking for you, but it’s not because he feels the same way you do. You grab your tablet and head to the MedBay.
When you get down you take stock of the situation. Nat and Steve have some scratches, Sam's arm is broken and Wanda has a few cracked ribs. Tony is bruised, his suit had taken most of the damage. You look around for Bucky but don’t see him anywhere and quickly deduce that he must be the person currently in quarantine.
When you get to the wing, you’re almost too scared to go in, afraid to see what could have happened to him. Inside, you find a team of medical personnel discussing Bucky's condition with him through a glass wall. His hair looks damp and he's wearing standard-issue quarantine clothing, soft black pants, and a black sweatshirt. When he sees you standing patiently at the side he says. "You can come back later. I need to talk to her more than I need to talk to you. Go away." His voice comes from speakers in the ceiling.
You're shocked by his behavior but smile apologetically as the white coats pass you on their way out. When you get up to the glass you hiss. "Bucky, what is wrong with you, don't be rude.” "You make it sound like I'm never rude otherwise," he laughs. "You're not rude to healthcare professionals, you know better." You glare at him as you wake your tablet. “Now what did you need me for?”
"Do you like me?" he asks. Your mouth falls open and your heart starts to beat faster. You’re happy your vitals aren’t monitored as you quickly collect yourself and try to deflect his question. "Of course I like you Bucky, you're my friend." But now it feels weird to look at him and you find a spot on the wall far behind him to focus on.
"What if I want more than friends?" is his next question and despite your best efforts, hope warms your chest. This is not happening. Of course you toyed with the idea of you and Bucky, he is always sweet to you, and if he has the chance he brings you gifts from the missions. But you’ve told yourself repeatedly that he needs someone stronger, who can keep up with him in the field and you’re not that person.
"Can we have this conversation when you are not high on some HYDRA drug?” you ask, trying to keep your voice from betraying you. They are monitoring everything in the room. And there is a sheet of unbreakable glass in between you both. If you're going to confess your feelings, it won't be like this.
"I'm not high," he huffs. "My mind has never been clearer." "I still think we should have this conversation later." "Doll, look at me." The command in his voice is so strong you don’t think, you snap your eyes to his and they are so blue and soft.
"I will feel the same tomorrow, and the day after, whenever this drug wears off but now is the only time I can't hold my tongue," he explains. You place your hand on the glass and he does the same on the other side. "It will be fine Bucky, I promise," you say just as the door opens and Steve walks in, making you pull your hand back to your side. He's showered, in a fresh pair of clothes and he swings his arm over your shoulder.
"Stop hogging her time Bucky, I know for a fact that she also needs to debrief," he smiles but Bucky looks as if he's seeing red. Through gritted teeth he presses out, "Get your fucking arm off her, punk. She's mine."
You and Steve burst into laughter because it has to be a joke, but then Bucky punches the barrier with his vibranium arm. The glass doesn't crack but both you and Steve stop short and step away in shock. Steve removes his arm and says, "I'll meet you upstairs." Before quickly heading out.
You turn to Bucky and point at him, anger rising in your chest. "What is wrong with you? Steve is your friend!" "That is what it’s like in here every day,” he points to his head. You're taken aback by his statement and his wide feral eyes. Clearly, whatever he was exposed to had messed with his head and he's not himself. “Bucky I need to go,” you tell him, and before he can protest you continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” You smile feebly at him and are out the door before he can say anything else.
After debriefing and having dinner you go to bed early. Your head is spinning with the day and most of all, Bucky.
It's way past midnight when you wake to the soft closing of your door. Since you always sleep with a night light the soft warm glow reflects off his left arm and leaves no doubt about who has entered your room. You blink at him but before you can ask a question he rasps out, pleading. "I need you. So bad. Please doll, help me." He moves closer to your bed.
You quickly remove your covers and get up, glad the giant t-shirt covers you to your thighs, ready to spring into action. "Anything Bucky, what do you need?" You stop an arm's length from him, but all he does is reach his hand out to cup your face, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. There is a wild look in his eyes but you keep calm. "I can't get you what you need if you don't tell me," you whisper, meeting his eyes and watching as his brow furrows.
"I need you. Right now. If I don't get to touch and taste every inch of your body I'm going to lose my mind," he confesses in a low voice. His words shock you and you hitch a breath. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do. You have this great friendship. If things were different you would not have minded taking it to another level, but with the day in mind and the fact that he somehow got out of his containment room you say, "Bucky, you’re not yourself, you need to get back to-”
"Doll,” he interrupts with a hard voice. “For once, I feel more like myself than I have in a long time. The only thing the drug did, I think, was remove my inhibitions. For once I feel free. My mind isn't controlled by HYDRA or by fear that you'll reject me. All I know is that I crave you and I can't be quiet about it anymore.”
"Bucky… I…" your whole body is flushed with warmth from his words and you're not sure how to respond. "I dreamt about you and couldn't stop myself from going over here. I don't want to hurt you, doll, but I'm not sure this drug will let me leave. All I wanna do is move closer to you.” You swallow hard as he continues, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Ask FRIDAY to get Steve, or the Hulk if you want me to leave."
Instead, you step into him, making up your mind in an instant and resting your hands on his chest. "Stay, I'll be glad to help you with anything you need," you whisper honestly and by the way his eyes widen there was still some doubt in his mind that you would reject him.
Instead of saying anything his vibranium hand grasps your waist and pulls you closer. There is no escaping the smell and size of him and his hands on you got your pussy throbbing for him already.
"I hope you understand what you've agreed to," he whispers, leaning closer. "Once I have you I won't stop, you'll never be rid of me. I'll claim you against every surface of this fucking compound if I need to." That makes you whimper and press harder against him. "Fuck you'd like that huh? Are you a kinky little thing? Like getting fucked where people can see you and hear you moan, do you want people to see my hard dick spread you open?" "Fuck Bucky!" You exclaim and lean your forehead against his chest. Maybe that idea excites you or maybe it is just that the word ‘claim’ sounds so primal.
"You're going to tell me all your little secrets later, doll. But now, I'm going to take what's mine." And with that, he crushes his lips to yours. He backs you towards the bed, kissing you the whole time, letting his hands explore you. When you land on your back, he stands over you with eyes like a predator about to devour its prey.
You shuffle up until your head rests on the pillows, spreading your legs for him. Without taking off any clothes he crawls after you, settling on his knees between your legs and placing his hands on the headboard, crowding you with his large frame. "Mine," he whispers and it makes a shudder pass through you. He ruts his clothed cock against your core, slicking your underwear even more and making you whine, gripping the sheets under you.
"Yes," he almost hisses as the length of his dick presses on your clit and forces a mewl out of you. It's been a long time since you've gotten laid. "Bucky," you plead. "No doll, I'm going to enjoy every fucking second of claiming you, from the outside in. Did you think this would be hard and fast and that I would be gone before you knew what happened?"
He lets go of the headboard to put his elbows beside your head instead, his weight on you, pressing you down into the mattress. "When I leave you will long for me, spend every waking second wishing I was still inside you. I want your cunt to be permanently drenched so I can fuck you whenever I please." He kisses you forcefully and any coherent thought that was left in your head flees. "And when you're too sore to take more of my dick in your pussy I'm going to do the same thing to your mouth and ass."
He rids you off your t-shirt and instead of having to move from between your legs to pull off your underwear, he rips them apart. "Ah!" you exclaim when the force of his movements jolts you but he takes no notice, he just stares at you, letting his hands roam up and down your sides, up to your tits, cupping them and caressing your nipples with his thumbs.
Whimpers are coming from you with every pass of this touch. Then he moves down and lays on his stomach, not saying a word as he sweeps his tongue over your pussy before he starts devouring you with a throaty moan.
It doesn’t take long for the first orgasm to take you, his movements are precise and his words and actions have made you hornier than you’ve ever experienced. Or maybe it's because he is the hottest person you’ve ever laid eyes on and he only wants you.
When you’re finished and sensitive he dips his tongue into your hole to taste you and groans loudly, lapping up the wetness from your orgasm. "Better than I've dreamed of," he says when he pulls away. Now you’re the one that must be high because you can't help but giggle. "You seriously dream of me?" "All the time, doll. Every night when I go to bed I wish you were with me and then you plague my sleep with your soft curves and radiant smile."
You're about to tell him how his laugh makes you warm and fuzzy on the inside but at that moment he sucks your clit into his mouth, cutting out every thought in your brain. He's gentle but not hesitant, it's as if he's feeling you out and when you make a particularly loud sound he continues the same movement, making your whole body go hot.
The second orgasm is intense enough to send aftershocks through for a long while afterward. Bucky lays his head on your thigh as you tremble, caressing your skin and letting the fingers of his right hand skim over your opening.
Despite what he's already given you, you still crave more. His fingertips never come close to where you need them and when you whine at the back of your throat Bucky smiles up at you. "Don't worry, I'm not even close to done with you, but I don't want you to pass out on me.” One of his fingers glides inside, making you take a sharp breath just because it feels so good. Once again he is careful, moving slowly, listening to your breath and your body.
"Please Bucky, I need more.” "No need to beg, I'll give you everything you want… in time," he breathes and kisses the skin on the inside of your thigh. Slowly he moves his finger in and out. You're sure it's a form of torture. The sweetest kind there is. Your breathing is labored and when he finally adds a second, you start to quiver.
He nips at your skin and then kisses it before speaking. "You look like a goddess, doll, eyes filled with lust, your skin is gleaming. I'm going to worship you until you're tired of me.” "Never gonna happen," you whimper. Then his thumb lands on your clit, making you cry out. Everything is so sensitive and overstimulated.
"I don't- Bucky, I don't think I can again," you tell him even though his touches are causing your insides to melt. "Yes, you will," his voice is soft but the command is clear. So instead of trying to speak again, you sink further into the madness that is him playing with you. The third one takes its sweet time but you never feel rushed or stressed that it's taking too long. Bucky isn’t in a hurry.
Then it’s suddenly there, crashing through you. "Fuck Bucky, fuck you're gonna make me come." "So good for me, let me feel you come on my fingers," he urges. "I'm going to lick them clean afterward so make sure you get them nice and wet for me. I want as much as you'll give me." The climax reaches its peak and you come with a cry of his name, body convulsing and your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair.
"Just like that doll," he smiles up at you and holds your gaze when he pulls out his fingers and sucks them clean, moaning while he does. It's a filthy sound, but it turns you on as if he didn't just make you come for the third time. Then he dives in between your legs again, licking at your skin and your soaked hole. Letting go of his hair all you can do is just lie there, writhing, as he somehow coaxes a fourth orgasm out of you.
“Fuck me,” you plead when he pulls back. “I need you inside me Bucky.” This time he takes pity on you and moves away to take off his clothes. When he’s naked he kneels between your legs again and you spread them as wide as you can. "Want me, doll?" he asks with a smirk. He swipes his cock through your mess and then uses his hand to coat himself with you. "Yes," is all you can say. Both you and Bucky stare as he pushes his dick into you, filling you up completely. Of course, he takes it torturously slow this time too.
"This feels better than any dream I've ever had," he whispers almost in awe. You grip his biceps and arch into him, pushing him deeper, faster. That makes him tsk but smiles at the same time as he pushes the rest of the way, finally seating himself. Without giving you a chance to relax he starts fucking you, his cock pushes perfectly against your insides, pulling sounds from you that you haven't made in years.
He sits back on his heels lifting your ass effortlessly until your weight is resting on your shoulders and neck. It's like he is in a trance, pulling you onto his cock over and over again. Your body is his, your mind has fled, and all you see and feel is just him all around you. His eyes keep changing between his dick filling your cunt, your bouncing tits, and your half-lit eyes as if he is not sure where to look. "Mine," he rasps and thrusts hard to empathize the word. "All mine. Say it."
It takes some time for your brain to connect to your mouth and form the words but his gaze never leaves you. "Yours," you whimper. "I'm yours, Bucky." There is a familiar heat low in your belly that's steadily spreading through your limbs. It makes you wiggle and move because it's overwhelming. He is overwhelming in the best sense. Whining you reach down to rub yourself but he slaps your hand away. "I thought I told you, it's mine. I own this cunt. If you wanna touch yourself you have to ask permission." It's as close to a growl as is humanly possible and you don't understand how he can be so cognizant right now, because your brain is like putty. "Can I please rub my clit Bucky, I wanna come on your cock so bad," you cry.
"Good girl," he praises, and when he calls you that, your mouth falls open with a keening sound, gripping the sheets even harder, pulling at them because you want to come so bad. "Do it, show me how you get off when you're alone in bed without me." Everything is slippery and sensitive when you start with your fingers and you immediately know it's going to go fast. With his previous words in mind, you ask. "Can I come?" He meets your eyes with a wicked smile. "Fast learner. Yeah, you can come… when I tell you."
You rip your hand away, afraid you might fall over the edge at any second. The sound out of your throat is almost a sob. "Don't be like that, doll, I thought you said you couldn't do it more times?" "I can-I can! As many times as you want just please let me come." "Fuck, I like it when you beg with my cock in you." But he doesn't say anything else, just continues fucking you. He's not even winded while you're straining your entire body. Your hand wants to move back, anything to relieve the pressure inside you but Bucky was very clear and you don’t want to disobey him.
Then he pulls out and drops you onto the bed, but you don't get to relax because he flips you onto your stomach and pushes one of your knees up to the side before he presses in. His dick hits your G-spot dead on and you scream into the pillow under you. Bucky chuckles right by your ear. "Guess I found it." He's merciless, his hips hit your ass hard and if it weren't for his weight pressing you down you would soon hit the headboard.
"Bucky!" you wail because it's too much. You're losing the last pieces of your mind to the sheer force of the pleasure and you're scared you're never going to be able to come back to yourself. Then his hand presses in between you and the mattress. "Rub yourself on my fingers, make yourself cum. Fuck my cock and come all over me doll." You brace yourself as best you can and move your hips as he keeps almost completely still, just shallow thrusts in stark comparison to what he was doing to you just moments ago.
His fingers slide along your clit, his cock brushing your G-spot over and over again. You're breathless, sweat breaking out along your skin, but the climax you're chasing will be well worth it. You just know it.
"I can't fill you up until I’ve felt you come around me," he grunts, his voice tight with holding back. You whimper, the feeling of fire flushing your whole body, and building up to an eruption like no other. "Yes, yes, yes," he chants low in your ear. "That's it, come for me, make me proud. Fuck it feels so good." And he starts moving again "I'm going to fill you fucking full of my cum. That's it!"
The heat in you breaks and you come with a shout of his name, shaking under him. It gets even more intense when Bucky finishes right behind you, groaning your name. He collapses on top of you but his hips are still moving, slowly, as if he doesn’t want it to ever end. Neither would you but your body is wrecked.
When he finally rolls off, you're so close to falling asleep, but he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. "Pee." He points and you want to tell him that you know the drill, this isn't your first time, but all that comes out is a grumble before he closes the door behind him and you sit down on the toilet.
When you're done, you stumble out and have a moment of panic, thinking he left. But then the door opens and Bucky returns with two bottles of water, handing you one before leading you to the bed and sitting you down on the edge. Gratefully you drink and lean against his shoulder before asking. "How do you feel?" "Better than I have in a long time," he answers, kissing your forehead. You chuckle. "Yeah I have a magical pussy, it can cure anything," you joke and it makes him laugh. "You should get back to quarantine," you comment. "Before anyone notices." He shakes his head. "No I'm staying here, I'm never leaving you again." He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the bedside table together with his own. Then he crawls beneath the sheets and you go after him, letting him envelop you in a tight embrace before you fall asleep.
Alarms blare and you wake with a start. "FRIDAY what's going on?" you ask out into the room. “Sergeant Barnes has escaped his confinement.” The voice echoes through the room. You sigh and glare at Bucky grumbling beside you, like the loud signal is just a regular alarm clock. "FRIDAY please inform the team that Bucky is here and everything is fine."
A second later the sound dies and with a sigh you get up to pull on yesterday's discarded t-shirt and find a pair of pants. Right when you're done there is a knock on the door and Steve asks, "Everything okay in there?" You open the door enough to show yourself. "We're fine, he broke out during the night and came here." "Oh," Steve says and there is a hint of blush on his cheeks.
Then you feel a presence behind you and Bucky’s arm goes around your waist. "Mine," he says and you can't see him but he's probably glaring daggers at Steve who backs away. "We'll be okay, I'll alert FRIDAY if I need help," you tell Steve. When you close the door Bucky turns you before pushing you up against it and kissing you hard. "Mine," he mumbles against your lips. "Fucking caveman," you tell him. He grabs you around the waist and throws you over his shoulder. "I'll show you caveman," he says and carries you to the bed
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sugarcoated-lame · 3 months
Text
Sometimes A Bride | Jake Seresin x Reader
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18+ only, minors DNI
Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader
part two of Always A Bridesmaid
Synopsis: You’re having some pre-wedding jitters and there’s only one person you know can help calm you down.
or
You and Jake sneak off for a quickie before the two of you say ‘I do.’
WC: 11.5k (another long one oops)
warnings: a smidgen of angst?, anxiety, mentions of alcohol, smut, fingering, unprotected piv, slight overstimulation, i think jake calling reader a good girl deserves a warning, unspecified age gap (reader is in around mid-late 20s, jake is in early-mid 30s), once again jake being too damn charming for his own good, tonssss of disgustingly sweet tooth-rotting fluff, really sweet fluffy moments with big bro bradley, natasha being the best sister-in-law and maid of honor, jake still being an absolute menace, i'm literally the worst at coming up with titles for my fics, moodboard is not any indication of reader’s appearance
a/n: The very long-awaited (I’m sorry 🤍) sequel to Always a Bridesmaid. Thank you so much to everyone who’s stuck around and shown the first part so much love and support, and waited so patiently for this story! I love y’all 
beautiful dividers by @saradika-graphics 🤍
〰・♡・〰 reblogs, comments, and feedback are greatly appreciated! 〰・♡・〰
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You love weddings. 
It's a fact you try to remind yourself of as you take a deep breath, taking in your reflection in the vast vanity mirror.
Hair styled to pristine perfection, professionally done makeup better than anything you’d ever be capable of doing yourself, in a gorgeous white dress that fits just right and makes you feel more beautiful than ever.  
You love weddings. You love the fancy clothes, all the chatter and the sweet scent of champagne flowing through the air at the reception, the contagious laughter and dancing.
But, most of all, you love getting to watch two people profess their love for each other and promise themselves to one another for the rest of their lives through beaming smiles and tears of joy. 
It’s been a little over three years since Bradley and Natasha said ‘I do’, and after meeting the love of your life at your big brother’s wedding, how could you not love them? 
Three years since that fateful night that you met Jake and both of your lives were changed forever, and the two of you have been pretty much inseparable ever since. Well, nearly ever since.
Initially, both you and Jake were scared by just how much you liked one another. 
After spending the night together at your brother’s wedding — and the morning after — you had feared that it was just that rose-colored haze of love in the air that comes along with weddings, and you wondered if that magical pixie dust was going to wear off eventually — and take your feelings with it. 
But it never did. 
Even at the beginning, back when Jake had tried to push down his feelings for you and said he couldn’t offer much more than no strings attached fun, ‘because I’m going to be away on deployments and dangerous missions all the time, and because you’re Bradshaw’s little sister.’ 
Because he ‘didn’t have time for anything serious’ – but really, because he was afraid of just how strongly he felt for you – even then, you were so drawn to him and Jake couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed spending time with you.
How he thought about you and that amazing night you’d spent together nearly every second of every day. 
From the moment he’d wake up in his boring, lonely apartment, to the hours spent in briefings or flying dangerous maneuvers in his F18, to the moment he’d go to sleep alone every night in his bed that all of a sudden seemed too big. 
And, what scared Jake the most was that it wasn’t just the sex – though, that was definitely a great part of it – that he yearned for. It was just you. 
You, with your bright eyes and your radiant smile, your melodic laugh and effervescent personality. You had quickly wormed your way into his heart and lit him up from the inside out. 
He no longer found himself wanting the mundane and meaningless hook-ups or one night stands that places like the Hard Deck had to offer, which had become routine for him since his time as a young pilot at Top Gun. 
You brought Jake’s world from dull grayscale to vibrant technicolor and he found that he just always wanted you around. 
He’d never felt that way about anyone before, and it terrified him.
You’d never wanted anyone so bad, and you were fearful that it wasn’t going to last. 
But, try as you might, the two of you just couldn’t seem to stay away from each other for long. 
Once Jake got his head out of his ass and he took you out on a few proper dates – which, naturally, ended in you fucking each other’s brains out a few more times – you both agreed to try to take things slow, because your feelings for each other were real and neither one of you wanted to mess things up. 
However, you quickly learned that there was no such thing as slow when it comes to you and Jake. Before you knew it, things between the two of you had become pretty serious, and you realized – much to your brother Bradley’s dismay, that the two of you share a very real connection. 
Through all of the ups and downs — triumphs and hardships, happy times and tears, the silly fights and even sillier make-ups that these past three years have brought the two of you. 
From going mad missing each other when Jake is away on deployments, up until his recent request for a more permanent position at Top Gun so he can be closer to home – closer to you –  you and Jake have stuck together through it all like super glue.
Three years of unconditional love and support, of growing and becoming better together, loving and living life with your best friend.
You’ve never been quite sure if you believe in the concept of soulmates, but if they do exist, you’re positive that Jake is yours.
And, you love weddings… so why are you currently freaking the fuck out, today of all days? Oh, right… because it’s your wedding day. 
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You’re pretty sure that your vision is beginning to blur, your body growing a little dizzy as you watch the constant stream of people flitting all around you through the glass of the large vanity mirror.
Your bridesmaids chatter excitedly as they too work to finish getting ready, sipping from mimosas as they make their way into their dresses while Natasha – the best sister-in-law and best maid of honor you could ever ask for – helps to keep everyone focused and on schedule. 
She paces the room with her phone in hand, probably texting Bradley to make sure things are running smoothly in the groomsmens’ suite as well. 
There are at least three people at any given moment hovering around you like bees, fussing over your hair, doing last minute touch-ups on your makeup, and making sure there’s not a wrinkle in sight on the beautiful wedding gown of your dreams that you’re oh-so nervous for Jake to finally see. 
Not nervous because you’re worried he won’t like it – he’s told you plenty of times that he’d be more than happy to marry you if you were wearing a trash bag – but because this is your big day, the beginning of the rest of your lives together and you just want it to be perfect. 
After all the months of painstaking planning – from centerpieces to seating charts, the choosing the color of the napkins to the dinner menu and countless trials of cake flavors. From finding the perfect venue, to the best floral arrangements, and of course the dream wedding dress. 
After being so hyper-focused on this day for months, now that that day is actually here, you just need everything to be perfect.
Not even the two and a half mimosa’s you’ve had this morning have been enough to quell the stress currently coursing through your veins, and the buzz of the busy bridal suite is beginning to make your head spin. 
Between all of the running around you’ve done since waking up — way too early — this morning, the little bit of alcohol and all the commotion going on around you now, your face feels too hot, a tiny sheen of sweat beginning to shine through your makeup.
You can’t help but wonder if Jake is feeling this flustered right now too. Probably not, the man is cool and calm about just about everything; it’s one of the things you love about him.
As the makeup artist powders your nose for the fifth time in ten minutes in an attempt to tamper down the shine, you feel your resolve beginning to crack. You try to take in a deep breath to shake the nerves, but feel as though there’s not enough air in the room to fill your lungs and you find yourself feeling like you need to escape. 
As if she can sense your distress from all the way across the room, Natasha — ever the dutiful maid of honor — materializes behind you with a comforting hand on your shoulder, politely excusing the makeup artist and everyone else that’s currently milling around you, before meeting your gaze through the mirror with a gentle smile. 
Though, you know your sister-in-law too well and you can see the concern in her brown eyes.
“You okay?” When Natasha gives your shoulder a comforting squeeze, you close your eyes and heave out a deep sigh, grateful for a moment of calm. 
It’s in the same moment that you open your eyes and give her a nod and an unconvincing smile that there’s a knock on the bridal suite door just behind you, and you turn your head to find Bradley opening it a crack and peeking his head in. 
“Everyone decent?” Your older brother asks, meeting your eyes with a soft look and you swear you could cry.
Through all her running around to help make sure that your day is perfect, you’d seen Natasha on her phone and you figure that, always knowing just what you need, she must have texted Bradley – and that’s exactly what she did. 
Natasha had let her husband know that his sister was feeling some pre-wedding jitters and could use some reassurance that she knew you could only get from your big brother, and he immediately made his way from the groomsmens’ suite to come to your aid.
“Yeah, come on in!” Natasha calls out with one last squeeze to your shoulder before meeting Bradley at the door and greeting him with a quick kiss on his cheek.
She gently pushes him towards where you stand in front of the large mirror smoothing your hands over an invisible wrinkle on the flowy white skirt of your dress, before ushering the rest of your bridesmaids and everyone else to the other side of the large suite to put their finishing touches on their looks and give the two of you some privacy. 
You turn around to face Bradley, standing there in a classic black suit with a bow tie, and you could swear your brother gets a little misty-eyed as he takes in the sight of you in your lavish white dress, a soft smile pulling at the corner of his mustached lips when he asks, “You okay, sis?”
You think about lying for a second and telling him that you’re just fine, but this is Bradley -– your big brother and self-appointed protector for all your life, even when you don’t always want or need him to be, and you know that he’d be able to see right through you.
Blowing out a small sigh, you carefully take a seat on the plush couch that sits in the nearest corner, making sure to arrange all the layers of fabric that surround your lower half in a way that they won’t become too wrinkled.
“Honestly… I’m kind of freaking out.” You tell your brother as he joins you on the sofa. Your voice is barely above a whisper, just loud enough that he’s able to hear due to his close proximity.
You’re looking down at where you nervously wring your hands in your lap when Bradley speaks. 
“Why? You’ve got nothing to worry about.” His words are matter-of-fact, but his voice is soft in that comforting, brotherly tone that’s only reserved for you.
“I- I don’t know.” You tell him with a light shake of your head. “I guess I’m just nervous?” 
The words come out as a question and your gaze lifts to meet Bradley’s before you continue on.
“You know, it’s such a big, important day that I’ve spent so long dreaming of and planning for and– that I’m going to remember for the rest of my life and I just…” your voice trails off as you realize you’re rambling, stopping to take a breath before you continue. 
 “I just love Jake so much and I… I just want everything to be perfect.”
Bradley takes in your frazzled expression, nodding in understanding. “You’re right, it is a big deal, and it’s totally normal to have some nerves.” 
The pensive look on his face shifts to one of what looks like amusement as he glances across the room to where his wife is chatting away with the rest of your bridesmaids, before leaning closer to whisper conspiratorially. 
“I was scared shitless when I married Nat.” 
Your eyes widen at Bradley’s confession, a small puff of laughter escaping your lips as you question him, “What? Really?”
“Yeah,” Your brother’s smile grows at the sight of your own, a quiet chuckle leaving him. “But, then I remembered that I was marrying my best friend and all of those nerves just sort of melted away.”
“Which is why you should believe me when I tell you–” Bradley reaches over to take your hands in his, his brown gaze warm as he speaks earnestly.
“It’s going to be perfect no matter what happens, because you and Jake will be together.”
Your lips can’t help but quirk up a bit at your older brother’s reassurance. “You really think so?”
“Yeah,” Bradley gives your hands a gentle squeeze. “In fact, I know so.”
“Because, I have never seen you happier than you have been these past few years since you’ve been with Jake.” That small smile never leaves his lips as he continues talking and your heart nearly melts in your chest at the sincerity of your big brother’s words. 
“It’s clear that the two of you love each other very much.”
You have to admit it’s a bit of a shock to hear those words from Bradley of all people – sure, things have gotten a lot better between your brother and your fiance over the years, but you’d still consider them frenemies at the best of times. 
You realize that you haven’t said anything in response, being too stunned to speak, when Bradley continues on with a knowing smirk on his face as he takes in your dumbfounded expression.
“Trust me, I wasn’t the biggest fan of the idea of you dating Jake in the beginning, but I see how much he cares about you. Above anything else.” 
You nod your head in agreement, but not without a laugh and a playful roll of your eyes. With your brother’s reassurance that everything would be okay so long as you and Jake are together, and the reminder of just how much your husband-to-be loves you, now you couldn’t wipe the grin off your face if you tried. “Yeah, he does.” 
Bradley takes in the lovesick smile on your face and tilts his head, raising a brow in question. “We feeling better now?”
“Yeah,” Feeling much more calm now, it’s your turn to squeeze Bradley’s hands, nodding happily at him before releasing them. “A lot better. Thank you.”
“Good.” Bradley stands, offering his hands to pull you up off the sofa as well, before pulling you into a hug. 
With a quiet instruction to ‘call me if you need me’, your brother releases you from his arms, venturing over to Natasha to place a small peck to his wife’s lips before making his way out the door and back to the groomsmens’ suite.
You really do feel a whole lot better, but all this talk about your fiancé and his love for you, and how truly, utterly happy he makes you, has you missing him. Yearning to be with him in this very moment, and you realize that the only thing that would really put your mind at ease is right now Jake himself. 
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Jake’s head perks up as the door to the groomsmen’s suite opens for the second time in about fifteen minutes to reveal Bradley, adorning a tux matching that of all the other groomsmen. 
It’s still crazy for him to think about the fact that your brother, who was so adamant about you not seeing Jake all those years ago, would be one of the groomsmen at his and your wedding. 
“Where’d you disappear to, Rooster?” A relaxed smirk lifts up the corner of Jake’s lips as he fixes his tie in the mirror.  
“Just went to check on the bride-to-be.” Jake’s smile softens just a bit at the mention of you.
“You know, I never thought the two of you would last this long, so I had to check and see if my sister was ready to back out yet.” 
Bradley drops down onto the sofa next to Bob and Coyote, who are quietly snickering at his teasing of the groom. 
“Oh, ha-ha.” Jake’s smirk grows devilish at the joke, turning his sights on the mustached man ready to tease him right back. “Face it, Bradshaw. We’re gonna be brothers real soon.” 
Bradley only rolls his eyes goodnaturedly at his soon to be brother-in-law, a fact that Jake has made a point to remind him of, all the time, since the two of you got engaged a little over a year ago. 
“How is she, though?” Jake asks, and Bradley can hear the sincerity creeping into the blonde’s tone. 
“She’s good. Was just dealing with the usual pre-wedding nerves, but it’s all good now.” Bradley tells him honestly. 
Jake only nods in response, already retreating into his head, into his worry for you, causing your brother to speak up again.
“Jake, I promise, everything’s good.” Bradley reassures him with a small smile.
“Yeah… good.” Jake nods once more, making an attempt to paint the best smile he possibly can on his lips.
He’s not worried because he thinks that you might not want this, or him – he knows without a shadow of doubt just how vast your love for him is – but, because he knows how you get when you put your heart into something and that you’ll drive yourself crazy trying to get everything perfect.
Jake’s seen firsthand just how painstakingly you’ve worked to plan this wedding, all the months spent making sure that every little detail is just right. 
He knows that all of that time and stress, culminating to this one day, is likely weighing on your mind now that the day has finally come. 
And in this moment, Jake wants nothing more than to just be able to see you – to hold you and comfort you and let you know that everything is going to be just fine.
He knows the old superstition that the groom isn’t supposed to see the bride before the ceremony, but…
“Fuck it.”
The two words escape under Jake’s breath just before he’s shrugging on the jacket to his tux and quickly making his way to the door. 
“Where are you going, man?” Javy questions his best friend, drawing the attention of the rest of the Daggers — sans Phoenix who’s with you getting ready in the bridal suite — toward where Jake stands in the now open doorway, one hand on the knob and one foot already out in the hall. 
“Just gotta check something with the wedding planner. Be right back.” 
It’s not a total lie. Sure, you had forgone hiring a wedding planner and chose to do everything yourself — with the help of Natasha and Penny of course -— but that technically made you the wedding planner. The guys don’t have to know that.
Jake traverses the winding halls of the venue, the anticipation of seeing you building up as he walks briskly in his dress shoes until he finds a door with a paper sign that reads, ‘Bridal Suite’ in loopy, cursive lettering.
Taking a breath, he knocks on the door, and he’s lucky to find that a moment later, it’s you who answers.
“What-” Your eyes widen in surprise and you’re hardly able to get a word out as one of Jake’s hands grasps yours, swiftly pulling you out of the door and into the hallway with him. 
You don’t get a chance to finish your question, because within seconds your fiancé is practically sprinting down the long hallway, pulling you along with him with his large hand wrapped around your smaller one. 
You can't help but giggle at Jake’s antics as the two of you run through the halls, watching his free hand reach for a few knobs along the way only to find them locked, finally stopping when he finds a door that seems to be open. 
He quickly peers into the room just to make sure that it’s empty before gently pulling you into the dark space, lit only by the natural light that shines in through the windows, and closing the door. 
You're still laughing breathlessly when you find your words again, Jake’s own breathy chuckle mixing with yours in the quiet of the room.
“Wha— Jake? What are you doing, you’re not supposed to see me in my dress before the ceremony!”
“Screw that, my girl needed me.” His warm hand is still in yours, his free hand moving to clasp your other one. That emerald gaze that you’ve come to know so well bores into you as he smiles down at you lovingly.
Your eyes lift to meet Jake’s and it’s like any and all nerves just melt away.
You always feel safe when Jake is near and just the sight of him now, being in his presence, has a toothy grin making its way onto your face.
Another giggle escapes you, trailing off into a content sigh as you look up at the gorgeous man in front of you.
The two of you just gaze into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and with a light shake of your head, your grin becomes coy. 
“Hi.” You find yourself whispering into the quiet of the room.
Jake lets out a chuckle, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling up in the way that you love when smiles at you. “Hi.”
Without letting go of your hands, Jake takes a step back to really take you in for the first time since breaking you out of the bridal suite just a few minutes ago. 
Finally getting a good look at you in your wedding dress that beautifully accentuates the shape of your body, your makeup done to perfection — though Jake doesn’t think you ever need it — and hair styled prettily but still flowing and free just the way he likes, renders your soon-to-be husband practically speechless. 
All he can say is, “Wow…”
You can hear the pure awe in that one word and can’t help but smile bashfully, heat rising in your cheeks. Jake’s compliments still manage to make you flustered, even after all this time. 
“Wow, yourself.” Your gaze sweeps up and down the length of his body, taking in the crisp black tuxedo and matching bow tie, and the white dress shirt underneath. Appreciating the way it fits him just right, how you’re still able to tell just how toned his body is even under the layers of clothing.
Jake’s hands tenderly squeeze your own, pulling you a little bit closer once again as his eyes search out your own. “You doing okay, honey?”
And though you were definitely feeling anxious before, you couldn’t be more content than you are now when it’s just the two of you, standing here holding hands with the love of your life.
“Yes,” You nod gently. “I’m just a little nervous.”
You look down at your joined hands before quietly continuing. “I just want this day to be perfect.”
“Hey,” Jake lightly swings your joined hands to get you to look up at him again, and when you do, you see that he’s still wearing that confident smile. “It’s going to be perfect because it’s all coming from you. And everything you do is perfect in my eyes.”
You have to bite back your giggle at his sentiment, in disbelief that this sweet man is soon going to be your husband.
“It’s going to be perfect because it’s us. Together.” You correct him with a playful grin. 
“Yeah, you’re right.” Jake’s hands leave yours, wrapping warmly around your shoulders to pull you in for a hug. Nestled in his embrace, your own arms wrap around his middle, your head moving to lean on his chest, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne as he leans his head on top of yours. “Together.”
The two of you stand like that for a few moments, wrapped snugly in each other’s warmth, Jake beginning to sway you just lightly as you breathe each other in.
It’s with your cheek pressed against his pec that you finally take a look around the room the two of you are standing in, realizing that it’s another suite similar to the one you had been getting ready in earlier.
“You know,” You lift your head from Jake’s chest to look up at him as you speak, a playful tone filling your words. “This feels oddly familiar to the night we met.”
“Sneaking off to a dark, empty room,” You continue with a growing smirk, arms unlatching from around Jake’s waist and pulling back just a touch, his own arms falling from around your shoulders. “Just the two of us.”
Your hands slide gently up Jake’s torso over the fabric of his suit jacket, up past his broad shoulders to rest at the back of his neck. 
Jake’s gaze leaves you for just a moment to glance at the space around you. An airy laugh leaving his lips as his hands reach for your hips over the soft fabric of your dress to pull you a little bit closer, his green eyes falling back onto you. 
Faces just inches away from one another, the two of you share matching silly grins as you think back to the night of your brother’s wedding. A look of pure love and adoration passing between your eyes and his as you both absorb the fact that you’re here, three years later, at your own wedding. 
“Yeah, we’re just missing the champagne.” 
Jake softly brushes his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering shut as he leans in to connect his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. 
Tasting the remnants of the sweet mimosa on your lips, he hums against them before pulling back just slightly. “But it seems like you’ve already got that covered, Sweets.” 
The familiar nickname paints his favorite smile on your lips that has Jake diving back in for another kiss, this one deeper as his tongue dips into your mouth to taste the lingering sweetness of champagne and orange juice on your tongue.
His large hands pull you in closer by the waist as your fingers find the short blonde hairs at the nape of his neck, a groan falling from Jake’s mouth and into yours as your fingernails gently scrape along his scalp.
It’s almost embarrassing how quickly your body still responds to his touch after all this time; your knees going weak, and you’re practically melting into him as you feel wetness begin to pool in the skimpy, lacy white panties of your bridal lingerie that you’ve been dying to show Jake since you picked it all out a few months earlier.
The kiss quickly becomes more heated, lips slotting feverishly together as though one can only find much-needed oxygen within the other’s mouth, tongues swirling in a well-known dance and relishing in the familiar taste of one another. 
Jake’s hands are all over you, pulling your body flush against his as he sucks your bottom lip between the both of his. Your skin feels hot from his touch even through the fabric of your dress, and the realization of his quickly hardening length pressing against your hip has you mewling against him.
Jake pulls back from the kiss, his gaze still hungry, but you also catch the mirth in his eyes as he chuckles at his bride-to-be.
“Always so needy for me.” He slowly shakes his head with that classic, cocky Jake Seresin smirk that still makes you weak in the knees. 
“Me?!” You scoff, eyes wide as you look up at him incredulously, though you’re fighting back a smile because you know he’s right. 
“Well, I’d say someone is also pretty needy.” 
Your hand leaves the back of his neck to travel between your bodies to prove your point, reaching down to palm at his hard length through the fabric of his dress pants. Your brows raise in a playfully vindicated look that screams ‘I told you so’, as Jake lets out a groan at your touch. 
“Yeah, o-okay.” Jake’s chuckle is breathless this time as you cup your hand around him a little more firmly, grinning up at him and batting your lashes. “Always needy for you too, Sweets.” 
His hand wraps around your own to remove it from his bulge, already missing the friction as he brings your knuckles up to his lips in a sweet kiss before letting it go.
Before you even know what’s happening, both of Jake’s hands are reaching down to grip your thighs through all the layers of lace and tulle, a squeak emitting from your throat as he sweeps you off your feet and carries you over the nearest wall. 
“Jake! What are you-” Your arms circle around his shoulders, legs parting of their own volition to make room for him between them. Bracketing his hips as your back lightly hits the wall, the fabric of your dress all bunched between the two of you exposing your calves as he holds you in his strong grasp.
Large palms wrapped around the underside of your thighs, his weight pressed against your front and the wall at your back keep you upright as you giggle in your soon-to-be husband’s arms. 
Jake is beaming back at you, the adoration in his green eyes clear as they crinkle up due to his grin. 
“I love you, so much.” He lifts a hand up to your face, the backs of his fingers caressing along the soft skin of your cheek and Jake shakes his head as if he can’t believe that this is real, that you’re real. 
He leans in to press a soft, but dizzying kiss to your lips before murmuring against them, “I wanna show you how much.”
A part of you feels like you could cry at the sincerity in his voice, at just how well Jake loves you and how he’s never shy to make it known. 
But mostly, you just feel the white-hot pooling of arousal growing in your belly, your eyes glazing over with a look of both love and lust as you gaze back at him.
“Yeah?” You nod up at him in a daze, biting back a grin as you take in the hunger in those pretty green eyes. 
“Yeah.” He places a feather-light kiss to the corner of your mouth that makes you whimper and you can feel his smile against your skin. “Let me show you.” 
You nod your head again, mind in a haze of want at the feel of his warm breath on your skin, your hands squeezing at Jake’s broad shoulders. 
Feeling the velvety-soft fabric of his black suit jacket beneath your fingers, it’s only then that you’re shaken out of your stupor and you remember where you are – what today is.  
“Wait-wait, Jake, we can’t!” Your fingers continue to absentmindedly play with the fabric covering his shoulder. We’re supposed to be getting married like… now.” 
You can’t help but giggle at the predicament you’ve found yourselves in, though it’s very unsurprising for you and Jake. 
Jake’s laugh mingles with your own as you begin to lightly shake your head, and you feel his strong shoulders shrug beneath your grasp as you watch his lips quirk up into a mischievous grin. 
“All our guests–” Jake interrupts your words with another quick peck on your lips, laughing at your stunned expression. 
“The guests…can wait.” He states matter-of-factly. “Can’t exactly have a wedding without the bride and groom, now can they, Sweets?” 
Jake’s smile is smug and you can’t fight the one materializing on your own lips as you continue to shake your head. 
“Besides, would we really be us if we didn’t sneak off to have sex at a wedding?” He finishes off the question with a kiss to your jaw before trailing his lips down the column of your throat, lightly nipping at the skin of your neck – careful not to leave a mark – before soothing it with his tongue.
Jake was right. It had happened the night you first met at Bradley and Natasha’s wedding, and had become a tradition of sorts for the two of you at every wedding you’d been to in the three years since – and there have been quite a few.
You can feel your resolve quickly beginning to crumble as Jake presses his hips more firmly against yours, his hard length pressing up against where you need him most, the friction not nearly enough through all the layers of fancy clothing. You’re already soaking through your panties for him and you know you’re a goner.
You drop your head onto Jake’s shoulder with a sigh, before looking back up at him through your lashes. 
“Fine, but we have to be quick.” Narrowing your eyes at him, you give in, but with the most stern tone you can muster and it only makes Jake laugh. 
“Ain’t nothing slow about me, sweetheart.” You can’t stop the snort that escapes you, or the playful roll of your eyes at his words, leaning up to kiss that stupid grin off of Jake’s face. 
“Please, just– just shut up and fuck me already, Seresin.” you manage to get out through your giggles.
“With pleasure.” Jake’s lips claim yours in a hungry kiss and you feel one of his big hands venture underneath the skirt of your dress, traveling up your thigh and past the frilly fabric of your white garter in search of your core.
When his fingers brush against the damp lace of your panties, you choke out a gasp against his lips and Jake pulls back to take in your expression — your brows furrowed in pleasure and eyes heavily hooded with need. His kiss-swollen lips lift up into a smug smirk as he feels how wet you are for him. 
Jake’s deft fingers press more firmly against that wet spot, rubbing along your seam through the damp fabric. You can’t hold back your whine, already writhing against him as his thumb finds your clit, expertly circling it through the lace. 
“So wet and I’ve barely even touched you.” He breathes out a laugh and there’s a hint of smugness to his words — because of course there, it’s Jake — but you can also hear the awe present in his voice, see it in his emerald gaze that burns into you lovingly and it makes heat creep up your cheeks.
His hand dips beneath the waistband of your panties and you and Jake groan in unison as his fingers make a few quick circles around your wet, swollen clit. 
Your head falls back against the wall behind you and Jake takes the opportunity to kiss at your neck again as his hand dips down further to collect more of your wetness. 
“Already all ready for me, Sweets?” Jake’s words are whispered next to your ear as his fingers graze your entrance, your hips bucking toward them of their own volition.
“For you, ahh–” Your words are cut off by a shaky moan as Jake slides two long fingers inside of you, up to the knuckle in one swift motion. Your breath hitches and you’re practically melting against him, your voice already sounding wrecked as you whimper for him, “Always.”
Jake groans at how easily your slick walls envelop his fingers, gushing with new arousal as he fucks them in and out of your tight hole to get you ready for his cock -– not that you really need much prep with the way you’re already soaking his hand.  
“Such a good girl for me.”
Your walls clench tight around his digits, from both the praise and the way he curls them inside of you, that coil in your belly quickly winding up. 
“Fuck- Jake!” He can hear the desperation in your plea of his name, can feel it in the way your hips chase his fingers each time he pulls them almost all the way out. You’re already feeling so close, but you’re needy for more. Need to be full of him. 
Your perfectly manicured nails dig into Jake’s bicep, the heel of your foot pressing into his backside in an attempt to pull him closer as you gaze up at him through your lashes. “Please, baby– need you.”
“I got you, honey.” 
Your chin falls against your chest and you cry out as Jake scissors his fingers inside of you a few more times before they retreat completely, leaving you clenching around nothing and keening at the sudden feeling of emptiness.
The hand that was in your panties begins to trail slowly back down your thigh, and though you can’t see it through all the fabric of your skirt, you can feel the trail of slick it leaves along your skin in its wake. 
As Jake clutches your thigh in his firm grasp to hold you more securely against the wall, his other hand moves to the tent in his tight trousers where his throbbing length has been neglected.
How he’s able to hold you up with one arm while the other hand unfastens his dress pants is beyond you, but it’s moments like this that you’re grateful to have a big, strong naval aviator for a husband-to-be. 
Jake pushes his suit pants and underwear down just far enough to finally release his cock and you can’t help but moan at the sight of it. Long and looking almost painfully hard, the tip red and angry and weeping with precum. 
Jake lets out a groan as he wraps a fist around his length, relishing in the friction as his hand moves along the shaft and works to spread the pearls of his arousal from his tip down to the base. 
His hand then leaves his cock to push up the skirt of your dress as far as it can go. 
Deft fingers pry the seat of your panties from where they stick to your slick-soaked core, and gingerly move the fabric to the side so he can access your dripping cunt before he grabs ahold of himself again.
Jake lines his tip up to your entrance and pushes in slowly, his lips claiming yours in a kiss that pushes the air out of your lungs, stealing your breath and leaving you dizzy with it as his tongue tangles with yours. 
Your hands glide up the soft, expensive fabric on Jake’s arms, fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders as you gasp and writhe against him. Relishing in the feeling of him all over you. 
His lips covering your own, short breaths mixing with yours as you both pant and moan into the frantic kiss. His strong body, solid as the wall behind you as his front presses taut against you to hold you up, his long cock pushing deep inside of you with every single thrust and leaving you feeling so unbelievably full of him.
Jake pulls back from the kiss and looks down to where the two of you are connected. His length glistening with your arousal as it moves in and out of your tight walls, your beautiful, intricate wedding gown all bunched around your hips as he fucks you, and he can’t help the chuckle that escapes him when he thinks about how crazy this is.
“Wha-what’s so funny?” You ask breathlessly through kiss-swollen lips, your eyes that had previously been shut tight in bliss now opening to search out his green ones. 
“Just— this,” Jake’s gaze lifts to meet your eye as he continues to laugh, unsure if his brain is going fuzzy with pleasure, or if that’s just the intoxication of being with you. 
“My beautiful, perfect bride,” his hips slow just a touch, pressing forward in a particularly hard thrust that has you gasping and clutching onto his shoulders tighter, you and Jake moaning in unison before he continues, panting through his words.
“All a mess for me — fuck– right before we’re supposed to say ‘I do’ in front of all our family and friends– and pretty much everyone we know.”
Your eyes widen, lips tugging up into a bashful smile and you can’t help but giggle along with him, burying your head in his shoulder and speaking into the soft fabric of his jacket as he continues to fuck you.
“Oh god… well, I’m sure there’ll be some time to steam the dress again before I have to walk down the aisle.” 
You can feel Jake’s laughter reverberate against your cheek just before he cups your chin, lifting your face back up to be level with his and beaming at you with that megawatt smile. “There's my wife!” 
You’re both still grinning when he pulls you in for another kiss. Teeth gnashing against one another’s, mingled laughter and moans coming out in breathy puffs against each other’s lips as his cock works inside of you, his hips still moving against yours at an even pace.
“This is crazy.” You can barely get the words out, still giggling between messy kisses. 
“Yeah,” Jake punctuates with another press of his lips on yours, teeth nipping at your bottom lip and drawing out a quiet whimper as he pulls it back towards him and releases it before continuing. 
“It is crazy,” – Another kiss – “You make crazy, Sweets.”
With one more firm peck to your lips, you feel both of Jake’s hands wrap tighter under your thighs, rough fingers squeezing your ass as he hikes you up a bit higher against the wall, pressing impossibly closer to keep you firmly in place. 
The change of the angle combined with his thrusts accelerating in speed has you crying out loud as he ruts up into you, Jake’s lips moving to cover yours once again and muffle the sounds of your moans. 
You shudder against him as his tip prods against that spongy spot inside you that makes stars appear behind your closed lids with each and every thrust, and you feel that coil beginning to tighten again, the familiar heat rapidly licking at the base of your spine.
Jake knows you’re close when your nails begin to dig into his shoulders through the jacket of his tux as you gasp for air, your lips parting from his with a string of saliva still connecting them for a moment that makes him growl as your head lulls back to lean against the wall. Eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you quietly, breathlessly, cry out his name like a mantra.
Your body is sandwiched tightly between Jake’s and the wall as his length fills you, hips pinned to yours and barely able to pull out on each thrust for how tightly your walls are clamping around him, the coarse but neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his cock deliciously grazing your clit and setting your whole body alight.
He's the only thing keeping you upright when your orgasm hits you. His mouth swallows your cries as your whole body goes taut, holding Jake in a vice grip as you fall apart on his cock. 
Jake can feel it as all of the tension leaves your body. He continues in slow, shallow thrusts, the quiet of the room only accentuating the salacious sounds of your release flooding around him as he works you through your high. 
He pulls back from the kiss as your moans begin to subside to get a look at your fucked out, blissful expression. 
Your eyes are still closed, lips parted and now devoid of any of the nude-pink lipstick shade you’d been wearing before, and your skin glistens with a thin sheen of sweat. 
Your chest rapidly rises and falls beneath the fitted white bodice of your wedding gown, accentuating your cleavage with each little pant as you try to catch your breath.
“So fucking pretty, honey,” Jake begins a light trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to your warm cheek, and up to your hairline where he whispers against the slightly damp skin. “My beautiful bride.”
Your hands scramble for purchase on his back, whimpering as you attempt to pull him in closer. 
“Jake- '' Your legs tighten around his hips, heels pressing against his backside where they’re crossed at the ankles, your desperate mewl mixing with Jake’s deeper grunt as the movement pushes him even deeper inside of you.  
“‘M so lucky to- to get to call you my husband,” Jake swears that his cocks swells just that little bit more at your loving words. “Cum for me. Wanna feel you.”
“Fuck.” The sweet praise whispered from your pretty lips sends him into a tailspin. 
You’ve barely come down from your high when Jake’s hips quicken their pace as he begins to chase his own release, the beginnings of overstimulation making you cry out a string of broken moans, incoherent whimpers of curses and his name. 
The fullness and the delightful drag of his cock through your tight walls making you clench around him harder, and the assault of his tip against your g-spot leaving you feeling boneless, your grip on his shoulders tightens like you’ll float away at any moment.
The way your velvety walls are squeezing him, your release soaking his length and the obscene sound it creates as he continues to fuck into you, have Jake right on the edge of his own high. 
His head falls to your shoulder where he grunts deeply into the crook of your neck. 
“So good, baby. So good for me.” He praises, peppering sweet kisses to your hot skin, a stark contrast to the harsh force of his hips pounding against yours as they begin to lose their rhythm. 
After a few more sloppy thrusts, Jake finishes inside you with a strangled groan. The familiar sensation of his cum filling your still-spasming walls pulls a contented sigh from your lips. 
Jake’s lips dot a trail of soft kisses along the heated skin of your shoulder and neck, then under your jaw before he lifts his face to be level with yours. Pressing his forehead against your own, the two of you stay there just breathing each other in as you catch your breath.
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When the groomsmen realize just how much time has passed with still no sign of Jake, and with only minutes until the supposed start of the ceremony, Bradley is seeing red. 
For a moment, jumping to the worst conclusion — that Jake may be standing his little sister up on her wedding day — and he’s just about ready to murder the groom.
It’s only when Natasha knocks on the door to the groomsmens’ suite, looking frazzled as she asks him and the other Daggers if any of them have seen the bride, letting them know that you’ve gone missing as well, that Bradley and his wife both quickly come to the realization that the two of you must be together. 
So, Natasha and Bradley begin the hunt to find the soon-to-be newlyweds, the latter rolling his eyes before grumbling, “They’d better not be off somewhere fucking.”
Natasha only responds with a snicker because she knows that’s probably exactly what the two of you were doing. She offers her grumpy husband a sympathetic look and gives his shoulder a comforting squeeze before they split up to search through the maze that is the halls of your wedding venue. 
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In no rush to move just yet, you and Jake just rest for a moment, foreheads pressed together, your body still sandwiched between his broad frame and the wall. His softening cock still inside of you, puffs of air warming each other’s lips as shallow pants become more steady breaths.
You know that you and Jake’s little er —detour— has almost definitely put things behind schedule for your big day, but in this moment you honestly couldn’t care less. 
When it’s just you and the love of your life, bodies intertwined and relishing in each other’s warmth, shared breaths becoming one, you can’t help but think that this day already couldn’t be more perfect.
You feel a flurry of excitement, your heart bursting at the thought that it’s always going to be like this. Solace in the fact that you’re Jake’s and he’s yours, that this is only the beginning of the rest of your lives together. 
He seems to share in the sentiment, pulling back to admire you for a moment before you feel his smile against your skin when he lightly presses his lips to your forehead. 
One of his hands reaches up to cradle your cheek, those green eyes are boring down into your own with that look of pure adoration once again as Jake moves to speak.
“God, I can’t wait to marry you,” His voice is breathy and full of awe–almost a laugh, eyes crinkling up at the corners in that way that you love as his smile begins to take up more of his face. “I’m so happy that you’re gonna be my wife.”
“Jake…” If you thought your heart was bursting before, you think it’s about ready to break free from your chest now, your eyes glistening with emotion as you lovingly look up at him through your lashes.
“You’re gonna make me cry and I don’t want to mess up my makeup any more than I probably already have,”
The two of you share a quiet laugh, smitten as ever as your hand makes its way up to cover his where it still rests on the side of your face. “But, to have you as my husband… I couldn’t be happier.”
Jake leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips before whispering against them. “Love you, Sweets.”
It’s only after you return his kiss and those three little words that have become as easy to you as breathing, that Jake finally pulls out of you and the two of you let out a simultaneous sigh. 
He reaches down to where the mix of his and your release begins to dribble out of your spent hole, a shattered moan falling from your parted lips as your head lulls back against the wall once more. 
Your legs begin to shake from the overstimulation as two of Jake’s long fingers push his cum back into you, expertly thrusting them in and out a few times before pulling them out again, and you find yourself grateful for the sturdy wall behind you when he purposefully brushes them against your oversensitive clit, leaving you breathless as he shifts your panties back into place to keep his cum inside. 
Your mind is cloudy of all things but Jake — his scent and his warmth and the feeling of his hands all over your skin, his pretty green eyes and his voice and his gorgeously cocky smirk — each one of your senses being invaded by him and you couldn’t be more content. 
And, you love knowing that underneath all the layers of fancy lace and tulle, right before the biggest moments of your lives, that you have his cum inside you.
Just as you part from one another, a knock on the door causes you to jump. 
You can hear Natasha out in the hall calling out your names and you and Jake share a look, wearing matching guilty smiles. 
However, it’s not long before his smile shifts into a more of a smirk, and you have to bite back a giggle as he rolls his green eyes playfully before leaning in to peck your cheek, pulling back to mouth the words ‘you good?’. 
With your grin and nod of confirmation, Jake leaves you with one more kiss, fastening the button on his pants and straightening out his dress shirt as he makes his way over to the door.
He pulls it open, still wearing that signature smirk on his face and Natasha glances up at him before she cautiously peeks her head in to see you too, hair smoothed out as much as you could manage on such short notice, the skirt of your wedding dress now back in place and hiding the fact that Jake’s cum is soaking through your underwear and beginning to drip down your thighs. 
“Thank god you’re clothed. I wasn’t looking to get scarred for life today.” Natasha breathes a sigh of relief and steps fully into the room. 
“You’re lucky you didn’t find us five minutes earlier.” Jake chuckles as you lightly smack his chest, that ever-cocky smile on his handsome face that you’ve come to love so very much over these last three years. 
You can’t help but snicker along with him when you catch sight of Natasha’s nose wrinkling in disgust. 
“Ok, ew… And you’re lucky I found you and not Bradley.” Natasha gives Jake a glare before clapping her hands in front of both of your faces. “Now come on, hurry the fuck up. The ceremony — your wedding ceremony — is about to start soon.”
You nod your head frantically, as if only just remembering where, and when, you are.
“Right, yeah! I just gotta go… clean up a bit.” you squeak out to your sister-in-law with a bashful grin before scurrying off the bathroom of the suite you’d snuck into. 
Natasha just gives Jake a deadpan look that conveys her slight disgust before leaving the room, making her way out into the hall to call Bradley and let the him know that she’s located the happy couple. 
After taking care of the mess between your legs and wiping off the smudged remnants of your lipstick in the bathroom mirror, you return to find Jake, who’s leaning up against the wall opposite the door, looking cool and calm and handsome as ever in his tux. 
Making your way over to him, you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, letting out a little snort as your hands reach up to delicately fix his hair where it sticks out in a few places—no doubt from your tugging on it during your recent activities. 
Once Jake’s golden locks are back in a more presentable state, you smooth a hand down the nape of his neck, leaning up to attach your lips firmly to his. 
Jake groans into it as his mouth moves against yours with just as much fervor, his hands reaching blindly for your waist to pull you in closer, and the two of you share one last passionate kiss that you hope conveys both your love for him and your excitement to be marrying him — though Jake already knows. 
“Alright, Natasha’s going to kill me if I don’t get back in the next two minutes.” You pull away from his lush lips, reluctantly and breathlessly, wanting to live in this moment with him forever. 
Your arms unwrap themselves from behind Jake’s neck, but you don’t get very far when he reaches out to take one of your hands in his own, and you can tell he’s just as reluctant to end the moment too when he brings it up to his lips to kiss a trail from your knuckles to the tips of your fingers.
“Yeah, I’m not really looking forward to dealing with your brother either.” 
His words make you laugh in that sweet, boisterous way that he’s so ready to hear for the rest of his life and with that, Jake chuckles and lets you go, his hand still holding onto yours until you’re too far out of reach. 
Jake calls out your name just as you reach the door and you stop short, turning around to face him just as you pull it open. You stand in the threshold, brows raised, and look at him expectantly. 
“See ya out there, my beautiful bride.”
You’re surprised your cheeks don’t perpetually hurt from how much this man makes you smile.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, my dashing groom.” You leave him with a playful wink and that intoxicating smile, in a flash of flowing white fabric as you quickly retreat into the hallway. 
Jake chuckles to himself, moving over to the mirror to make sure he looks presentable, smoothing a hand over his hair and giving himself one last once-over before he makes his way back to his groomsmen. 
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Trailing behind Natasha, you quickly make your way through the halls back to the bridal suite, giving her your most innocent smile when she peers back at you over her shoulder with a pointed look.
Your sister-in-law sends you a half-hearted scoff and a playful roll of her brown eyes, but you can see the smirk just beginning to grow at the corner of her lips before she turns and reaches out to open the door. 
“Come on.” Natasha half laughs, half groans, ushering you into the room.
Before you know it, you’ve got a plethora of people surrounding you once again — one giving your dress a very last minute steam to get rid of any wrinkles your activities with Jake a few minutes earlier had caused, others rushing around to touch up your hair and makeup and to finally pin up your veil. Although, this time around, you find that you’re unbothered. Feeling a lot more at ease, and you’re back in tip-top shape in record time. 
You’re practically vibrating in excitement and anticipation as Natasha and the rest of your bridal party shower you with hugs and their own squeals of excitement and encouragement before they make their way outside to the beautifully set up venue to get into their places for the ceremony. 
You give yourself one final once-over in the mirror, unable to curb the smile that grows at how beautiful you feel. 
It's only a few moments later when Bradley pokes his head in the door once more to ask if you’re ready. He takes in the giddy — and much more self-assured than earlier  —  smile on your face when you turn to him and nod your head excitedly. 
“Ya know, you can still back out of this if you wanted.” Your brother jokes, his tone teasing as his mustached lips form into a sly grin.
With a punch to your older brother’s shoulder, you pin Bradley with a pointed look and a sarcastic ‘ha ha’.
“Come on, I’m sure the Bronco would make a great getaway car!” He chuckles as your eyes widen in surprise.
“Bradley!” You move to punch his arm again, but he quickly ducks out of the way this time, and though your eyes are now narrowed at him in a feigned scowl, Bradley can tell that you’re not really angry with him by the way your lips are fighting back pulling up into a smile. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to hold my peace when that part comes up.” He raises his hands up in surrender and you can’t help but laugh along with Bradley’s joke, though not without a playful shake of your head and roll of your eyes. 
“You better!” Your big brother flinches as you lurch at him again, but this time, instead of hitting him, your fingers reach up to pinch his ear and it’s like the two of you are kids again; you giggling maniacally while Bradley — now a big, tough 6’1 fighter pilot — yelps in pain, arms flailing as he tries to get out of your grip.
He’d probably pull your hair like he did when you were kids too, if it wasn’t all styled to perfection with your beautiful sheer veil pinned to the crown of it, all ready for your big day. 
“I will, I will!” Bradley hisses through his teeth, chuckling as you release your hold on him to grab your bouquet that’s a beautiful mix of both yours and Jake’s favorite flowers, and then move to link your arm with his to begin the path down the hall. The path to the rest of your life and you couldn’t be more excited. 
As your brother guides you through the venue’s winding halls towards the doors to where the outdoor ceremony is being held, a gentle grin befalls your lips as you think about how you got here — and your big brother’s part in all of it. 
“You know… I know you told all the guys at your wedding to steer clear of me.” 
Bradley stops in his tracks at your divulgence, pulling you to a quick stop as well and nearly tripping you over your heels and the fabric of your long wedding gown.
“You wha- huh? You know?!” 
Admittedly, Bradley thought he was taking that secret to his grave.
“Yeah, I know.” You can’t help but giggle at your brother’s flustered expression. “Jake told me, a few months after we started dating.”
You’ve known for almost three years and you never said anything. Huh. 
Bradley stands there with his lips parted, but no words are coming out. He’s still in shock at the fact that you’re laughing about this. 
“So… you’re not mad?” He asks the question apprehensively, a grimace on his face as he awaits your answer. 
“No, I’m not mad.” You shake your head, still smiling as an airy laugh escapes you. 
“Well, maybe I was for like a second back then. But, I appreciate how much you want to protect me, Bradley. Even if it does make you an idiot sometimes.” 
You playfully roll your eyes and Bradley finally relaxes, shoulders dropping as he laughs along with you. 
“For what it’s worth, you and Jake actually aren’t a half-bad couple.” You playfully smack his chest in response to the — albeit sweet — jest. 
“Thank you.” You beam up at your brother, content knowing that that’s his way of letting you know he truly is happy for you and Jake. 
Bradley links his arm with yours again and continues leading you towards the doors. “I wish Mom and Dad could see how beautiful you look today. They’d be so proud.” 
“Oh, come on, Bradley! You’re gonna make me cry off my makeup!” You whisper-yell at him half jokingly as you finally reach the doors that will lead you out to the ceremony — to where you’ll very soon be married to the love of your life. 
“Me too.” Giving Bradley’s arm a gentle squeeze, the two of you share a smile, knowing that your parents will be there in spirit. And grateful for the fact that your uncle Mav who’s always been like a third parent to you will be there too. “Now, come on. Let’s go get me married!”
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The wedding ceremony goes off without a hitch — albeit a little bit later than planned. 
When the music starts and Bradley walks you down the aisle, you’re surrounded by the smiling faces of friends and family. 
Although, your eyes are only on Jake — looking so unbelievably handsome in his tux and his wide smile and you can’t believe just how lucky you got — and his mossy green eyes are focused on only you. 
Both of your eyes shine with tears and it’s as if only the two of you exist in that moment when you meet him at the altar, the two of you happily joining hands with matching lovesick grins adorning your faces.
Though he’ll never admit it — and Natasha will never let him live it down — Bradley definitely shed a few tears himself as he listened to you and Jake exchange your vows. 
It’s been a long day of running around getting ready for the ceremony — and sneaking off for a quickie, of course — before marrying your soulmate in front of practically everyone you know, then taking countless family photos and enjoying a cocktail hour with your friends and family showering you and Jake in congratulations and well wishes. 
But, it’s all worth it because you’re finally able to call Jake your husband and you couldn’t be happier.
You’re both more than ready for the reception, ready to let loose and enjoy your time together as a newlyweded couple. 
After a nice dinner comes the best man and maid of honor speeches from Javy and Natasha, and a speech from Uncle Mav that includes a few embarrassing anecdotes about your childhood that have you giggling as you hide your face in Jake’s shoulder. 
Then it’s time for the newlyweds to make a toast before sharing your first dance to Fleetwood Mac’s Everywhere, the first song you and Jake danced to on the night when you met three years ago at your brother’s wedding. 
The two of you hold each other close and sway along to the music without a care in the world, Jake dipping you towards the end of the song and claiming your lips in a long kiss that has the entire room cheering — although again, it’s as if you and Jake are the only two who exist in that moment.
When Jake pulls back from the kiss, one of his large palms is still cupping your cheek, fingers gently grazing your skin as his green eyes gaze down at you in adoration. 
“I can’t believe you’re my wife.” He lightly shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m never gonna stop saying that — my wife.”
You’re smiling against one another’s lips as you pull Jake down for another kiss, giggling when you mouth parts from his. 
“I love you so much, my husband.”
You can see that familiar look of both adoration and hunger beginning to overtake Jake’s features in response to your words as your first dance comes to an end.
After sharing what would traditionally be a father-daughter dance with Mav, he returns you into your husband’s loving arms as others begin to join in on the fun, the dance floor now filling up with your guests. 
Jake sees his opportunity to whisk you away from the dancefloor, using the commotion to make a sneaky getaway — again. 
You should be used to it by now — his large hand warmly encompassing yours and pulling you along with him — but you still can’t help the giggles that break free as you quicken your pace to match his as best as you can in your heels, sprinting until the two of you have disappeared from dancefloor, and soon from your wedding reception entirely.   
Out of the ballroom doors and into the empty hallway, the loud music and sounds of your guests having fun now a muffled to barely-there background noise, you find yourself alone with Jake. Your husband.
You pull on Jake’s hand to bring him to a stop in front of you, turning him around and pulling him in closer to you as you lean your back against the closed door, gazing up at him with a lip-bitten smile. 
“What are we doing?” You question through a breathless laugh, although you’re pretty sure you already know the answer. 
Jake’s broad frame crowds you in closer to the door and you find your breaths coming in quicker as he presses the front of his body up against yours.
Your eyes flutter shut as he leans down even closer, his nose gently brushing yours, lips just shy of touching your own. His breath fans against them and it sends a shiver down your spine, a jolt going straight to your core when he speaks.
“Well, we’ve gotta consummate our marriage, Sweets.” Jake whispers against you, his mouth just barely grazing your own. “And I’d like to consummate it as soon as possible.”
The evident hunger in his voice has you frantically nodding against him, eyes still squeezed shut when you feel his front press impossibly closer to you — and the growing bulge there. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, honey. Gonna consummate the shit out of you.” 
Jake’s whispered words, and their mirthy tone, have you bursting into a fit of giggles, your head falling back against the door behind you. His own laugh joins in with yours as you shake your head at his silliness. You love this man so much.
Your hands reach up to the sides of his neck to pull your husband down for a kiss, lips and teeth clashing as neither of you can break the smiles from your faces. 
“You’re such a dork, Seresin.” You whisper sweetly against Jake’s lips.
“Yeah, but you love it… Mrs. Seresin.” His large hands squeeze your hips, both the heat you feel on your skin through the lacy fabric of your dress and the name making you giddy.
“Well… lead the way, Mr. Seresin!” 
You’re unable to contain the massive smile that breaks out on your face as Jake presses one last kiss to your lips, before grabbing your hand and beginning to pull you along with him once more, and you don’t care where takes you as long as your hand gets to be intertwined with his for the rest of your lives. 
Thank you for reading! x
taglist: @sebsxphia @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87 @mavrellover91 @memoriesat30 @that-bitch-bri @classyunknownlover @hisredheadedgoddess28 @foreverrandomwritings @lt-spork @princess76179 @gigisimsonmars @kidd3ath @averyhotchner @sammyrenae68 @tv-fanatic18 @one-sweet-gubler @kmc1989 @onethirstyunicorn @avengersfan25 @fictionalmenloversblog @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby @praline357 @girlsclub2004 @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @marvelogic @djs8891 @diorrfairy (pls let me know if you'd like to be removed 🤍)
tagging some others who might be interested: @hangmanssunnies @blue-aconite @sunlightmurdock @rhettabbotts @doreenwnsng @watchtowerindistress @dingochef @floydsglasses @lynnestra44 @ryebecca (i'm going to reblog and also tag all the rest of the people who reblogged part one! 🤍)
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fayes-fics · 1 year
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Second Son
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Summary: The second son is, for once, the first choice...
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Warnings: none really... mild angst, family dynamics, love at first sight.
Word Count: 2.9k
Authors Note: Request fill for anon here, about Benedict being the second choice for everything.... until his love turns up. Thanks for this request; I hope this is angsty enough for you anon. Im not sure about it tbh. Sorry that it's taken more than three months to get to it on my WIP list. Unbetaed. Enjoy <3
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Benedict Bridgerton was born into privilege and can have few complaints. Except perhaps that he is always second. The spare. The just-in-case option. Being a familial insurance policy lends one more freedom than the burden of being the titled first son, perhaps, but it also feels like your whole existence, in some respects, can seem like a contingency plan.
____
His stomach swoops with excitement as the arrow pierces the target dead on the bullseye. And on his first ever archery lesson, just after his twelfth birthday.
He turns around to see if anyone is there to witness his triumph, but it goes unmarked. All his young siblings gathered around Anthony, patting him on the back for his achievements in doing the same moments before. Being a good shot is an essential skill for the next Viscount indeed. The fact that he has been receiving instruction for months already and this is Benedict’s first lesson hurts a little.
But he doesn't bother to bring attention to his arguably more impressive feat. It seems pointless now. Wordlessly he shrugs and walks towards the target, plucking out his arrow and starting again. Perhaps next time, they will notice.
____
“Is that the new Viscount Bridgerton?” Benedict hears a young girl murmur as he sweeps into the first societal event of the season, the spring following his father's death. 
“Oh no, my dear, sadly not; I believe that is one of the brothers,” her mother replies, acting as if he has no sense of hearing, even trying to ignore it as he is, surveying the crowd.
“Such a shame,” the young girl huffs, “he is so very handsome.”
“Yes, dear, but sadly not titled. We can do better,” her mother chides, moving them along out of earshot.
He will never get over how cutthroat the Ton can be, a part of his tender seventeen-year-old heart sinking. Not that he had a potential interest in that girl, more the principle that he will somehow be rendered as an also-ran, at best a consolation prize, for the rest of his life.
What is most galling, perhaps, is that, when his mother needs their presence the most on a night like tonight, the new VIscount is nowhere to be seen. Has not even bothered to show his face, running off to some spurious gambling den and brothel, spending the night indulging himself rather than facing society. 
So here Benedict is, stepping up to play the dutiful son that his elder brother should be. Being the support their mother so desperately needs at her first event as a widow, her arm looped heavily through his, her whole bodyweight seeming to use him as her literal pillar of support. As he escorts her around the room, he is filled with admiration at her brave face. He can see the overwhelming sadness in her eyes every time the word dowager is invoked, and his heart cracks a little at the loneliness he can feel emanating from his mother’s very soul. 
“Tis a shame the Viscount did not deign the first event of the season worthy of his patronage,” she states pointedly as she sips champagne.
“I am sure he has very good reasons for his absence,” Benedict replies soothingly, covering for his errant brother, attempting to shield their mother from the truth of his philandering ways. Benedict knows it is Anthony’s way of dealing with the responsibility of the title of Viscount being thrust upon him so young. But sometimes, just sometimes, Benedict wishes he could escape his grief in such a manner, Anthony taking his turn attending a stuffy ball and playing guardian to a grieving woman. Their burdens may be different, but the wish to escape them is often not, Benedict realises.
____
She catches his eye at a garden party at Aubrey Hall. She is a pretty young lady, maybe eighteen to his twenty-three, with bright eyes and a sweet, happy face. She makes his palms slightly sweaty. He watches her from a distance, uncertain how to approach or what to say, feeling a little tongue-tied, even. 
Just then, Anthony materialises at his shoulder.
“Who is that pretty young thing?” Anthony asks, tracing Benedict’s line of sight.
“Miss Bradstreet,” he replies, watching as she turns to face the sun, closing her eyes, basking in its warmth. The light captures her cheekbones perfectly, and he itches to have his sketchbook and capture her likeness. He would very much like to get to know her better.
“Let's go provide a warm welcome,” Anthony smirks, clapping a hand on Benedict’s shoulder and practically dragging him across the lawn.
Benedict reluctantly follows, a flutter of excitement as her eyes land upon them as they approach. 
“Miss Bradstreet,” Anthony swaggers. “Viscount Bridgerton at your service; I am so very pleased to be your host today,” he bows.
Benedict's stomach plunges as he watches her practically melt into the lawn right there, virtually swooning at Anthony’s feet.
“Oh, and this is my brother, Benedict,” Anthony adds, almost as an afterthought. 
She flicks her head to the side briefly to politely acknowledge Benedict before returning to Anthony. All of her undivided adoring attention on him as he regales the story of his latest hunting triumphs upon her insistence. Benedict heaves a sigh and watches as yet another young lady he likes chooses his brother over him. He is almost used to it now, but it doesn't stop the sting every time.
____
Your world grinds to a halt as you see him. He is descending the stairs with what you assume is the rest of his family. He is very much in the middle of a tight circle, walking behind what appears to be his mother and perhaps older brother. Quite the most beautiful man you have ever seen, your heart pounding in your ears, your throat suddenly dry despite the lemonade in your hand. You assume they must be the hosts, seeing as they are the very last to enter the ballroom here at Bridgerton House, and there is no announcement of their name.
“Who is that?” you whisper, leaning towards your elder sister. She has been out among society for a year and knows the Ton better than you.
“That is the Bridgerton family, of course,” she replies. “Illustrious in the extreme. Our hosts for this evening. The Viscount there is the most eligible bachelor of every season… and every season, he has resisted a match. So I wouldn't bother if I were you,” she sniffs.
“Which is the Viscount?” you check, your eyes unable to leave the beautiful man with a cravat tied in the most unconventional fashion.
“The one with his arm looped with their mother, the dowager Viscountess, naturally,” your sister rolls her eyes as if patently obvious.
“And what of the others?” you inquire keenly, realising the man you admire cannot be the one your sister is referring to. “Do you know their names?”
“I do not,” she admits, “such things are not really important when one is looking for a titled husband,” she points out airily. 
You nod, knowing the responsibility your sister must carry as firstborn to find a suitable match that can provide for your widowed mother and, indeed, perhaps yourself and your younger sister should neither of you be able to find a husband. You don’t envy her position one little bit. 
You are, however, desperate to get closer to the most beautiful man you have ever seen. And so you spend your evening working towards them, in as polite of a fashion as you can, your stomach in knots of excitement to know him.
“Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, it is an honour and a pleasure to meet you,” you curtsy, heart pounding as he now stands a few feet away, unable to look at him so close by.
“Hello, my dear and you are?” she asks politely.
“Miss y/n y/l/n, it is my very first season; I am so honoured to be here,” you explain. “I must provide the apologies of my mother, Mrs y/l/n, who could not attend tonight due to a cold, but she is so very thankful for the invitation.”
“Oh, of course,” the viscountess smiles. “I am so sorry to hear of her illness; please pass on my best regards… Anthony!” she turns to her side to grab the attention of a man. The viscount’s head whips around from where he is in discussion with another. “Come meet Miss y/l/n,” she needles pointedly. “Miss y/l/n, this is the Viscount Anthony Brdgerton, and he is so pleased not only to make your acquaintance but also for your presence here tonight,” she welcomes on his behalf, and you do not miss the subtle nudge in the ribs she gives him.
Then his regard is drawn to you. He is handsome certainly, and you appreciate his polite but absent-minded greeting. His attentions are obviously elsewhere, but then you cannot fault him as yours are the same. Your gaze strays over his shoulder to the man who first captures your attention. And your breath is stolen by how his hazy blue eyes stare intently at you.
____
Benedict is twenty-six years old when he is struck by lightning. Not literally. But that is the sensation that runs through his body when he first lays eyes on you—politely introducing yourself to his mother and thanking her for your invitation to this ball. 
He thought he knew what attraction was until this point. He thought he knew the depths to which one could fall in love in an instant. He was an utter fool. He looks at you, and at once, everything is so quiet and loud all at once. He is desperate to know you in a way he has never felt. To grab your hand, take you somewhere, and ask you a million questions to get to know your soul. He also wants to kiss you so much that his lips tingle. And inside, his lungs want to scream as his mother does the natural thing and introduces the beautiful, polite young lady to her most eligible son… Anthony. 
Then his heart jolts as your eyes stray from Anthony and meets his, your pupils dilating in a way that makes his lungs too small to inhale air. It is the first and only time a young woman has had Anthony’s full attention and has looked away from it. And to him, no less. The tidal flood of chemicals in his system makes it feel like he is vibrating in his very shoes.
____
You try your best to be polite and look at Anthony as he speaks, but your sight is drawn to this other man like a moth to a flame. From appearance, the second son, as you are the second daughter. A flare of understanding and sympathy in your chest as to how that is. You want to grab his hand and run away with him.
“My lord,” you find your voice and snap your eyes back to the Viscount, “would you do me the honour of introducing me to the rest of your wonderful family?” your ask, almost timid.
He looks temporarily taken aback, as if mystified why anyone in the Ton would care about the status of anyone beyond his mother and himself. You smile at him expectantly and do not miss, from the corner of your eye, how the beautiful man’s face is awash with surprise at your request.
“Oh, most certainly,” Anthony seems to snap out of his temporary stupor and turns to introduce his siblings in attendance. A tall, baby-faced young man stands to attention as Anthony moves from left to right. “This is Colin; he has just returned from his travels in Greece,” you nod and smile politely, knowing nothing of the subject. “And this is my sister, Eloise; it is her first season, and she is not in the slightest bit happy about that,” he adds dryly, and you can't help but giggle and feel a kinship with the spirited young lady who returns your wry smile. “My eldest sister, the Duchess of Hastings, who is visiting us,”
You curtsy and bow your head. “It is an honour, your Grace,” you add, and she smiles sweetly at you, her arm looped in her mother's.
“Obviously, you have met my mother,” he continues, and suddenly he is the last in the line. You feel your palms clench, sweaty in anticipation of learning his name “... and this is my brother, Benedict; he hopes to be an artist.”
You are finally brave enough to meet his eyes again. He is so achingly beautiful that the rest of his family, indeed the whole ballroom, melt away from your view—he is all you can see.
“Oh, I adore art,” you stutter, mesmerised, offering your hand to him, the first and only person in the family you do so to. Unseen by you, your gaze only on one man, Anthony’s mouth drops open in surprise.
Nothing can prepare you for when Benedict’s gloved hand gently touches yours, him bowing to kiss the back of your hand. You catch a woody citrus scent that makes your mouth water as he does so. And then you feel the warmth of his lips through your glove, and you are utterly undone.
“Miss y/l/n,” he rumbles quietly, the sound making your insides melt even more; it's deep and resonant and makes every inch of your body tingle.
“Please call me y/n,” you murmur, moving closer, knowing how scandalous that might be, but seemingly unable to stop yourself. He has a hypnotic hold over you that you don't want to fight.
“Only if you shall call me Benedict,” he breathes, and it takes Anthony clearing his throat to make you spring apart, suddenly remembering where you are.
____
His lips touch the silk of your glove, and he is gone. 
Already planning a future, his mind supplying images of you at his cottage out in the country, the lady of the house. Tending to the herb garden, reading happily curled up in front of the fire in the drawing room, fearlessly plucking a bow as you stand in front of joint archery targets gently teasing him for losing to a girl, and finally, the image that truly knocks the wind out of him, you naked under him, desperately moaning his name as you move together, entwined in ecstasy.
He hears your sharp inhale, and his heart skips at the idea you feel it too. That you are the first woman ever that sees him and not Anthony. Really sees him. Not as the second son. Not as a consolation prize. 
And when your body seems to sway towards him, he is already mentally asking his mother for a betrothal ring from her grandmother, which she said she is keeping just for him.
____
“Benedict,” his name feels wonderful in your mouth, like a gift from the heavens. “Please, may we take a turn around the gardens?” you implore, the boldest you have ever been in your whole life. 
“It would be my very greatest pleasure,” he responds.
And you know with absolute certainty you have met your husband, the father of your children, your very future. 
____
“It is not as if this is my show….” he sighs.
“You should not do that, darling,” you say affectionately, ruffling his hair as you move to fix his cravat; it definitely needs to be more jaunty, in your opinion.
“Do what?” he breathes, his wedding ring catching the light as he places his hands gently over yours and stills your motions.
“Think of yourself as second,” you argue, running your hand over his cheek. “This gallery opening may feature others' work too, but you are the star of the exhibit,” you reassure, tilting his forehead down so it rests upon yours.
There it is again. That look that always floors you. Even now, a year later. Like you are the most wondrous creature, and he can scarcely believe you are his.
“Never forget, you will always be first to me,” you utter fiercely, watching his eyes soften with devotion. “And not just me….” you guide his sizeable warm hand onto the swell of your belly, “to us. We love you so much, Benedict,” your tone is ardent, wanting him to believe he deserves this recognition, that he should believe in himself the way that you do.
“I love you, too,” he responds quietly, reverentially. “So very much. Both of you are my whole world,” his voice choked with emotion, and you throw your arms around him and squeeze hard, wanting to telegraph just how much he is the very centre of your universe.
An hour later, you clutch your hands over your chest as you watch him being brought onto the raised stage and introduced to the crowd as they applaud him and his work rapturously, awaiting to hear him talk of his art. As he does so, you stroke your belly unseen under your cloak, beaming with pride for your wonderful husband.
____
He sees your face in the crowd, and as ever, it calms him, especially at this landmark moment. So as he finishes the speech that he has rehearsed for days now, he decides to do something perhaps unconventional but something he seems unable to resist.
“Lastly, before I allow you back to your champagne,” he jests, finally at ease with the attention and recognition. “I want to thank my life’s inspiration, the very reason I stand before you today. My wonderful wife. Thank you, my love, for being the light of my life; for always making this second son your first choice. You will always, always be my first choice. I love you.” 
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Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep
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eskumii · 7 months
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soft yandere!genin!sasuke uchiha x reader hcs
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TITLE: " BAD ROMANCE " — navi. — read part two.
A/N: i'm clearing out my drafts ,, was in a huge naruto phase when i started this blog!
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☆ genin sasuke is pretty mean. he doesn't notice you for your looks, personality, or even your prowess as a young kunoichi. you're just... you. in which, you don't cling to him like sakura does, and you aren't delusional like ino is. you're just okay at first, and there's not much he can go off of when he never really interacts with you. it's nothing personal, really.
☆ although sasuke is typically not a stranger to the prospect of romance, the reason why he doesn't indulge is simply because he fails to understand what romance is. if sasuke is anything, he's aware; of his surroundings, the people in it, and the turmoil that churns inside of him. the more he loves, the more he'll eventually hate, so he gathers that there's no room for it in his life. it's his curse to bear.
☆ genin sasuke would eventually notice you after being placed on team seven together, of course. you're pretty hard to ignore from thereon. in between the bouts of sakura clobbering him and naruto screaming in his face, his eyes are on you. both naruto and sakura wear the extent of their capabilities on their sleeves, but you're hard to read and that intrigues sasuke.
☆ it's not until much later that sasuke notices his feelings for you are much different than before. after all the trouble you've been through together (near death experiences & the dreadful antics of naruto), he feels like he's finally got a foothold on what it is that makes you so interesting. he's not a moron—yes, it would appear that he does like you beyond the "like" that he holds for the rest of team seven. however, it's such a foreign feeling that he's not even sure how to handle it, being that he's never had to deal with it before. does he tell you? does he not? would you even feel the same?
☆ in the end, sasuke shows his fondness for you in more subtle ways. it's not really his style to outright confess. sometimes he'll ask you to spar with him (alone, which he stresses), or he'll happen to have a "spare" tomato (or onigiri, if you don't like tomatoes) on him when you complain about being hungry during missions. if you get ambushed by rogue ninja on a mission, he'll instinctively step in front of you, or if you're out of kunai he'll lend you a couple of his—things like that. he's quite thoughtful when he wants to be.
☆ even under sasuke's merciful tolerance of you, you're not off-limits when it comes to his biting insults and sarcastic comments. normally he doesn't speak much but with you he becomes rather talkative, if you can even call it that. when someone else tries to butt in, sasuke's brooding and murderous glares scare them away. they should really know better than to talk to you when he's around.
☆ sakura obviously hates that you've suddenly become the apple of sasuke's eye when she's been vying after him since their early days at the academy. you're not even that pretty, honestly. but any attempt to sabotage you or make you look like a fool in front of sasuke is thwarted... by sasuke. he always thought of sakura like a whining gnat in his ear so it's amusing to see her cry when he blatantly ignores her for messing with you.
☆ when sasuke leaves the village, you're the first person he visits beforehand. you're asleep but that's just fine; actually, it's perfect because you don't see how he gently caresses your hair and how he gives you a kiss on your forehead. you don't hear him when he finally admits that he likes you. loves you, even. you don't hear him when he says he wishes he could take you with him.
☆ but don't worry, he'll be back for you...
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oh-katsuki · 8 months
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it's been a really long time since i wrote porn for porn's sake. here u go. it's alpha nanami :)) i don't have a title for it oops
cw: alpha!nanami, omega!reader, a/b/o, breeding, knotting, heat and rut cycles, dubcon on both sides, fingering, cohabitation, taboo, protective nanami, i feel like there is a slight primal kink in here, light dacryphilia,
wc: 3.1k
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nanami didn't mean to take in a stray, but that's sort of how it happened. you're staying with him until a particularly careless friend helps to find a suitable living arrangement for you. nanami really isn't sure how it became his problem, but he'd feel awful if he'd told satoru no and left you without somewhere to go, no matter how against living with an omega he is.
frankly, nanami doesn't support the idea of alphas and omegas living together. he thinks it's a bit perverse. there's far too much at risk and the situation can become dangerous if it's the wrong pairing. sure, sometimes it works out. the better of his kind (of which he considers himself to be) give the necessary space and resist the temptation, but the others... take it too far. it'd be easier for you to live with a beta, and nanami wonders why satoru didn't first go to one of them. maybe your pheromones are weak and satoru isn't worried. that's probably why he hadn't noticed them when satoru first brought you by to ask if it'd be okay.
he knows that second gender is a spectrum. some alphas and omegas hardly emit any pheromones at all, even during heat and rut cycles. nanami thinks he likely falls into this category, seeing as he's never been particularly tempted by an omega and very few have ever been all too tempted by him, but it's a gamble. it's—frankly—unethical to ask this of him and though nanami knows that he should have said no, something in his good nature compelled him to say yes.
you've weak pheromones too, he thinks. he, of course, can feel them to a degree, but seeing as you mostly keep to yourself, it's hardly a problem in the first few weeks. frankly, the most tempting thing about you is that you're beautiful. you seem to have an almost standoffish air about you, proud and dignified, with a preference towards a more solitary and observant lifestyle. most of the day, the two of you hardly even see each other, going about your lives entirely separately only to settle into the same house for bed at night.
you don't say much when you're home. in fact, nanami would wonder if you could speak at all if it weren't for the conversations he hears you having on your phone and the little laughs or eyerolls you give in response to his comments. there's understanding there, but it's silent and you hardly ever dignify nanami's words or invitations with a response. maybe you're airing on the side of caution. he wouldn't blame you if you are. so, for the next two weeks the two of you coexist without so much as a hello between you both, silently sharing a space. you stay out of the way and nanami pretends that he isn't slightly unsettled by your constant proximity and the creeping feeling that you don't really like him all too much.
"they're a little difficult," says gojo over the phone. "kinda standoffish and really smart."
"so i've noticed," nanami responds. "i can't say i blame them though. you've put us in a weird spot."
"oh, nanamin, i know you well enough to know that you wouldn't lay a hand on them even if they begged," satoru laughs. "and they really might."
nanami grimaces at satoru's statement.
"i still don't understand why it had to be me," nanami says flatly. "you could have called ijichi. it'd probably be safer."
"how noble," satoru snickers, "but i trust you. hang in there a few more weeks. we've been working on securing an apartment for them and once we do, they'll be out of your hair. you're an angel for letting them stay." he sing-songs into the receiver. nanami holds it away from his ear.
"sure," he says. "it's not really much trouble... it's just.."
"that they're an omega. i get it. stay strong or whatever lol," satoru laughs. "unless of course, you really like them."
nanami huffs and hangs up the phone. satoru's got a good head on his shoulders, but he knew where that conversation was going. satoru was likely to say something about your heat cycle and nanami, being an optimist in cases like these, hopes silently that it won't come for another two weeks. he knows he could ask, but he worries about coming across as something of a creep. nanami is a little orthodox in the sense that he believes alphas and omegas should be separate for this reason exactly. suppressants exist but they don't always work and though nanami has sense about him, he's always had an insecurity about the kind of monster his second gender could make him. it sets him at ease a little that your pheromones appear as weak as they are.
you round the corner into the living room, standing just on the far end of the room. you're wearing pajamas, but you seem to feel no need to cover yourself or hide any perceived indecency. nanami glances at you, making a point to avoid looking at the shape of your body. it's inviting and you look at him for a moment with a small smile before raising one single eyebrow and letting out a low huff of air. nanami decides that you'd heard his conversation and he watches you shake your head as you move to the kitchen to peruse what he has. your hips, swaying slightly with each step, draw his attention to the curve of your ass and he feels ashamed for even having looked.
you're beautiful, that's certain. even the way you move is beautiful. nanami has eyes enough to see that. something stirs inside of you when he speaks, wordless recognition, maybe amusement or irritation, and vice versa. regardless, it's beautiful and nanami finds that the longer you're here the more he has to swallow it down.
you seem to get a little uncomfortable if nanami has people over, even for a moment. not that you've ever said anything about it, but you appear set on edge when he does so in the following weeks, it leads him to not bring anyone over at all. he can't bear the idea of making you uncomfortable. for as little as you've spoken to him since you've been here, nanami finds that he's grown rather fond of you. if things continue this way, he should hate it when you leave. admittedly though, he's looking forward to it a little. nanami feels that you're... a temptation. one he can't really seem to overcome.
one evening, you sit down in the living room with him. it draws his attention to look at you.
"i'm not mean, you know," you say flatly.
nanami is astounded to hear the cadence of your voice so clearly and without prompt. he can only offer a nod in return.
"i'm just picky," you continue, shifting in your seat as if you're made uncomfortable by the way you're sitting. "i have to be, being the way i am and all."
"i understand. i'm not offended," nanami says. "but some people would probably call that rude."
you smile at him, coy and delicate. "would you?"
"maybe," he offers. "if the circumstances were different."
nanami clears his throat, furrowing his eyebrows at your body language. something's off and he wonders if maybe your cycle has begun. he shifts on the couch and turns his full attention to you.
you move over to him and sit just adjacent to his leg. something in him stirs, primal and unrecognizable. you've never been this close and he only now notices that you smell nice, like something light and fresh.
nanami feels his chest stir. "this is the most you've ever said to me, i think."
"sorry," you say.
"don't be," he responds.
this conversation is awkward. it's loaded. it's like a conversation between two people who can't exchange more than a few words without experiencing intense sexual tension. he clears his throat.
"i need your help," you mumble, shifting closer. he knows what you're implying.
"i can't help you," nanami responds through gritted teeth.
"please," you say, standing slowly. you linger in front of him for a moment before reaching out and slowly straddling his legs. nanami flinches as you settle on him, pausing for a moment to breathe. "touch me."
you place your head against his shoulder, fingers grabbing his shirt as if you're agitated. the skin of your cheek is warm against his collarbone and he can feel your hair against his jaw. you twitch lightly when you touch him. carefully, he places a large hand on your head. your whole body flinches, unbelievable warmth soaking into his skin.
you feel like you have a fever and the next time you raise your head, your eyes have gone glassy, face darker. your lips are wet and lightly parted and a layer of sweat covers your forehead.
"not like that," you say, something needy creeping into your voice.
nanami, against his better judgement, rests his hands on your waist. you shudder under his touch and he slowly strokes the exposed skin of your sides with his fingers. trailing the pads of them against raised goosebumps on your skin. between your legs, he can feel heat. he knows you're wet and he knows what you want. nanami isn't sure he can give it to you, he's unsure that he should. it's not illegal, but he feels that it's wrong. something about it is fundamentally wrong and the situation goes against all of his morals. his mind still wanders.
you rest your forehead against his chest, and he feels your pheromones as they hit his nose and soak in through his skin. his body responds, tensing. your breath picks up, little heaves and pants, and you squirm down against him almost involuntarily. nanami feels himself grow hard. it surprises him and shames him. he feels heat rise to his cheeks at the realization that he's pressing up against the inside of your leg, something that makes you stir and settle directly over him. every exhale from you is a borderline whine and the syrupy smell of you grows more intense by the moment. nanami still runs his fingers along your sides, venturing over your tummy and back occasionally.
"just a little bit," you command, rubbing your cheek against him and then placing your mouth on the side of his neck and biting. "i'm sorry. just a little bit."
nanami winces and you drag your hips over him. his hands fly to yours, gripping hard enough as you make you whine.
"i can't," he grits out, speaking directly against the way his cock throbs against your core. he can feel it's dampness, a humidity that soaks through his pants.
"it hurts," you mutter and nanami feels an unpleasant stirring in his stomach. he hates the thought of you being uncomfortable.
"maybe we can find help-" you twitch over him, making him wince, "for you."
you shake your head, "you."
nanami exhales and tips his head back, his fingers still on your waist. he weighs the outcomes of this in his mind. he could push you off and fix you a blanket and a safe space, give you some tools to help yourself and then plug his ears and pretend he doesn't want to do it himself. he imagines the buzzing sound, the way you'd whimper from the other room over, still unfulfilled despite the aid. he thinks about your fingers between your legs, unsatisfying and only serving to worsen the itch. it makes him strangely jealous, nauseous almost, that you should be so uncomfortable in his presence.
you exhales against him and it's a near defeated sound. nanami's fingers buzz with adrenaline, his cock swelling and throbbing every time you so much as shift over him. there's a lack of control in this situation and his fingers move to comfort you almost against his will.
something natural and easy takes over as he slides a big hand down to the front of you and cups your cunt. it feels almost like an out of body experience, but both yours and nanami's humanity drips away slowly to make room for these primal actions. you shudder and nanami's chest swells with relief as he sees your expression. there's a need within him to care for you. it's protective, the same way he'd feel if you were in physical danger.
nanami moves his four fingers over you slowly, his breathing hitching as you push your body against him. he can feel your dampness soaking through your thin shorts and it isn't long before your relief gives way to more need.
"just this once, nanami," you breath against his neck. "please."
nanami's head is filled with something syrupy. probably you. it's probably a chemical reaction caused by you and he knows that any pheromones you're releasing are probably being released in equal amounts by him. they take up space in the room, crowding him so that all he can focus on is you, is the need between your legs that calls to him like song.
"okay," he gives in, pulling your panties to the side and dipping his fingers into you.
you shudder and let out a short cry, thighs trembling. he knows he won't be able to satisfy you like this, but he wants to try. nanami knows though that there is no such thing as nipping it in the bud with these sorts of things and as he begins to move his fingers inside of you with a beckoning motion, he feels himself slip farther away.
you're so wet, dripping down his fingers. your pussy clenches around them, begging for a knot, sucking the two digits up into you and then threatening to push them out. nanami has been with omegas before, but he's never felt himself slip away like this. his humanity leaves him in favor of something animal.
nanami shushes you quietly as he pulls his fingers from your body. you whine and squirm against him, pressing down and grinding against the bulge in his pants. he sucks in a sharp breath and quickly discard your bottoms, leaving you bare and exposed in his lap.
your cunt is sticky and shining, glistening with your wetness. he can smell it, the way you're probably fertile, and the perverse thought crosses his mind that maybe you deliberately avoided your suppressants so that he could do this to you. how out of character for him to think that.
for someone so proper, he makes quick work of pressing the head of his cock against your entrance. you push your body forward to try to take him in and nanami very quickly slides into you. you're tight and with the way your cunt makes him feel, he knows that the stretch must hurt you, but he can't seem to stop. he's so focused on quelling the ache within you, buried deep in that spot where his knot will inevitably catch.
you are barely capable of forming words now, dumb and deaf with your heat. any words of comfort nanami offers to you seem to go in one ear and out the other, but he offers them anyway. they're automatic and they come without his even needing to think about them. things about taking care of you, about knotting you the way you're begging him to, about making sure you're never alone when you have to do this. if he were in a better state of mind, he'd be mortified.
instead, he fucks his hips up into you, holding you by the waist against his throbbing cock. then, when that isn't enough, he lays you on your back on the couch and presses your knees to your chest so that he can go deeper. he needs to get deep enough to where his knot will catch, to be able to stay there to ensure it catches properly. he feels the way air leaves you with every fuck of his hips.
you raise your hand to touch his face, eyes glassed over and watering as gentle tears slip down your cheeks. a silent encouragement that pulls him from his thoughts back to you. nanami turns his head instinctively and kisses the palm of your hand. then, he takes your thumb into his mouth and bites down on the fleshly part at the base of it. he could draw blood if he wanted, but he doesn't. instead he takes your hand as it falls from his lips and kisses you plainly again on the palm before pinning it above your head.
"i'll take care of you," he grunts out and you nod deliriously.
nanami makes quick work of knotting you. he bullies his cock as far in as it will go, swelling and swelling until he sticks. you squirm as he does, gasps growing higher in pitch until you're silenced by the pressure deep in your abdomen. you cum around him, he thinks, pussy fluttering as it throbs around his knot. then, you exhale as the heat recedes into the background with this momentary relief.
nanami winces as he holds himself up over you, slowly returning to his head as the swell of pheromones recedes and leaves only the feeling of the space he takes up in your cunt.
you search his face for something, benevolence maybe, and nanami places a wide palm to your cheek.
"i'm sorry," he breathes as words find him again. "i didn't intend to-"
you shake your head, returning to yourself as well. "don't be, i wanted to."
nanami isn't really sure what to say and you wince under him as he settles his weight a little further, throbbing lightly at the mention.
"hold me," you ask and nanami obliges. he settles fully over you before lifting you so that you're straddling his lap again. you wince and nanami soothes you by gently stroking your face. it's automatic again, the urge to comfort you is well beyond his control.
something in you triggers something in him and it is two full days before either of you are lucid and well enough to separate. satoru calls him multiple times, but nanami ignores him, too preoccupied with his unexpected rut and keeping you comfortable. at present, he's well past the initial guilt and frankly, entirely hellbent on deciding that you should stay. so much for his practicality, nature won out in the end.
nanami doesn't really think he'll ever hear the end of this, especially not from satoru who, when he inevitably gets a hold of them, will tease so relentlessly that it might shock nanami and you back into your senses. he decides to hide out here with you for a little longer, filling the room with the scent of you both until it crowds out everything else. he likes the way you feel nestled up beside him, messy and breathing deeply as you sleep.
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a tag for my friends @antizenin and @kentocidal bc they asked!!!
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brainrotfm · 6 months
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draft title: fat cock slow sex, sukuna x f!reader
divider credits to @cafekitsune
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sukuna liked you best when you were thrashing.
he had no interest in restraints, binding your hands or feet in silly straps or cuffs to keep you still, having had several lifetimes worth of entrapment and no reason to ensnare you the same, not when he was twice your size and exponentially stronger than you could ever perceive.
no, he wanted you like this, at all times - splayed out unashamedly, blubbering nonsensically, hips wriggling for friction, small fists beating at his chest, trying to spurn a moment of reprieve or relief, whatever came quicker for the little darling trapped beneath your chosen predator.
why were you in such distress?
well, because sukuna loved taking your sopping, plushy little cunt and splitting her in half, bullying the fat girth of his cock as deep as possible before… just... stopping.
every. fucking. time. you should know better by now, always getting yourself into this mess, your fault for loving the most sadistic creature known to history —
a creature indeed, as sukuna rumbles above you, able to feel the timbre against the backs of your legs where they sat flush against his broad chest. his growling earned him a pitiful whimper in return, body twitching back and forth beneath his sheer mass, as if there was any hope for escape.
“so fucking wet for me, woman.”
“love sinking my cock into you and feeling this sweet pussy spasm around me.”
“should i sit here forever, just feeling your little cunt flex for me?”
of course, he won't move unless you beg for it. why should he? this is his favorite way to take you, after all - cunt clenching endlessly, clinging to his cock, weeping to be stuffed full of his cum whenever he pleased. he has no reason to indulge you unless you really put up a fight, and even then, he'll taunt you all the same. but beg you do, as you always do, happily the loser of this battle when this was a neverending game of his maintaining his attention.
“you sure, brat? i can always get you off just like this,” and he punctuated his point with a rough slide of his thumb over your slit, catching at your clit and pressing, “let you cum all over my cock without even moving, be my selfish little whore tonight. yeah?”
it's not enough though, never truly satisfying to finish like that, your hips twitching toward the sensation of being filled completely, satiated fully, the way that only sukuna could. only he knew how to cure the ache throbbing in your naval.
“okay little one, but you asked for it. we don’t stop til I say we stop.”
finally, finally he sat back on his heels, but there would be no mercy for you.
sukuna picked up your hips from where they rested against his impossibly large thighs, his eyes losing their focus on you. now, his gaze was trained on that delicious, glimmering cunt of yours, still pulsating around his cock, your anticipation drooling out of you. slowly, so slowly it would drive you insane, sukuna began to drag his cock back out of your perfect little heat, spit pooling in his mouth as he salivated at the sight. no point in wasting it - he spits down at the place your bodies connect, easing the pull, eliciting a twin shudder from both of you at the noise.
the problem with his misdirected focus was that it took forever for either of you to cum like this, which was the point, but you detested him sometimes for it, you really did. even if he let out the breathiest sighs of enjoyment, having you like this, that made your spine curl inside you.
when he has you right where he wants you, whimpering like a little bitch in heat, wide eyed simmering with want and unshed tears as he simply enjoys himself. inching himself out, and there's so much of him, dragging through you until the fat mushroom tip of his cock bulged the sensitive ring of your entrance - before plunging his hips forward, fucking you full in an instant, kicking the breath right out of your lungs.
your impatience was beginning to show as your hips wriggled, your breaths slipping an octave higher as a whine passed your lips right as sukuna began the slow drag out of you once again. he sighed dreamily above you, practically purring as he grinned at the trails of tears actively staining your cheeks,
“that's it, little one, cry for me. make me cum with those pretty tears."
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louloulemons-posts · 2 months
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heyyy. i saw your taking logan fics. do you think you can write a fic of logan and reader but she’s very girly and bimbo like? thank you 🩷
Claws and Frills
wolverine x fem!reader
(x-men wolverine, he’s a big boy)
summary : At first Logan didn’t know how to take you, but now your the first person he finds when he returns to the mansion.
word count : 0.8k
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warnings : not proofread, fluffy, petnames (reader calls logan kitty and the famous bub), readers a necromancer, mentions of violence, blood and killing, readers not really described - only her outfit , hanks a bit of a dick, very very sweet, no established relationship.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
At first Logan didn’t know how to take you, you were unlike anyone he’d ever met. Cooing that Charles had adopted a pet ‘Kitty-cat’ when you first met one another.
It had taken him a few months to realise, you weren’t being condescending, you were truly that sweet and slightly ditzy. Saying that you had the gift of necromancy, controlling those who had passed, along with their powers if they were mutant.
Logan strolled outside of the mansion finding you, lay on your stomach reading a book, a soft lilac blanket beneath you.
A pink dress and short white cardigan hug your figure, as your pink converse lay discarded beside you, showing your white frilly socks.
“Hey Bub,” the man called out, walking over to you. With a grin you turned to him, “Kitty, come sit,” Scooting over to make room for his larger figure, the smile never left your lips.
With a soft groan he sat down next to you, laying back, hands behind his head. “How was your mission?” you asked, placing your book to the side to have your full focus on the man beside you.
With a shrug he spoke, “Went well, stopped the guys.”
“Any blood spilled?” You questioned, head cocked. “Less than last time.”
“And you?”
“Me?” Logan pulled his sunglasses down to rest on his nose, so he could meet your eyes with his own dark ones. “Did any of your blood get spilt?”
“Nothing I couldn’t heal from Bub.”
“Logan you promised-“
“Sometimes it can be helped,” he cut you off, “I did everything I could to be safe and come back to you in one piece, and look here I am.”
He motioned to his long body, dressed in a flannel, unsurprising, a pair of jeans a boots. “Well even if they killed you, you couldn’t be rid of me.”
He laughed, “You’re awful.” With a pout, you sat up on your knees, “What? I have to use my freaky-deaky powers at some point!”
“Freaky-deaky? Is that the technical term?” He smirked. With a groan you spoke, “Don’t, you sound like Hank.”
Logan’s face went serious, “What’s he said to you?” He was ready to shred that blue asshole to pieces for making you feel insecure.
“Nothing, he actually apologised. Charles told him he’d upset me. I mean I know I’m not the smartest sometimes,” Logan tried to cut you off, but you didn’t let him.
“But, I’m not stupid, we actually spent a lot of time talking about, neuroscience. Just because I’m not a total badass like Storm or Jean doesn’t mean I’m an awful hero, I just …” You sighed.
“What Bub?” Logan pushed himself up so you sat face to face. “I just don’t want to stop being myself, and my… gift already makes me feel like I have too.
“Maybe I was given the wrong one, would have been better if I could control plants or I don’t know, talk to animals.”
Logan smiled, pulling a cigar out of his pocket, which you snatched away without a second thought. If it was anyone else, his claws would be out, but it was you.
“Your power doesn’t define you, you know that right? You’re you. You’re sweet and kind, and anyone or anything you’ve controlled with your powers has been as respectful as you can make it.”
“But I’ve killed.”
“And you’ve saved.”
“But-“
“Bub, you’re good, and Hank isn’t a people person, he just talks sometimes. Nobody is a special or as badass as you, I promise.”
“Not even you?”
He titled his head, thinking for a moment, “I might be a close second.”
“Third, Erik’s more scary than you … and Jean oh and Scott-“ he put a hand over your mouth.
You couldn’t help but smile against it, causing his lips to twitch upwards. He pulled his palm away, “Thank you Kitty.”
“Never have to thank me, you know that.” Leaning forward you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You really are my favourite person, you know that?”
“You’re crazy,” he said making you laugh, arms coming round your waist, “But you’re my favourite too.”
Pulling away you stroked his face gently, “You’re a good man, you know that right?”
“You tell me most days. Now read to me,” he said, falling onto his back, hands going back behind his head.
Crossing your knees, you sat beside Logans figure, his eyes falling closed. One of his hands moving to stroke your leg softly. “What are we reading?”
With a smirk you spoke, “Pride and Prejudice.”
Logan groaned, “Again?!”
“Hush Kitty.”
And hush he did, listening to your soft voice hand never leaving your leg. Remaining on that soft blanket with you, until the sun began to set and the stars rise.
~ / / / * \ \ \ ~
Thank you so much for reading!
i honestly can’t believe i’ve never done a logan fic but deadpool 3 brought back my obsession big time.
I hope you enjoyed.
Please leave any requests 🫶🏻
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slut4thebroken · 7 months
Text
Sweet Dreams
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Tommy Shelby x daughter!reader
Summary | Tommy let’s you try some of his whiskey.
Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, actual incest, technically non con, large age gap (unspecified), breeding/housewife kink, somno, underaged drinking (pretend the legal age is 21 over there lol), kissing, praise, innocence & corruption kink, daddy but not the kink, I want him to take advantage of me so bad😭
Words | 2.4 k
Notes | I shouldn’t even have to say this but this is a work of fiction. Please remember that lmao. Also it’s unspecified but reader is at least 18 so don’t come for me 💀 It’s also unspecified on whether reader is his bio daughter or step daughter so feel free to choose lol.
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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(You can only read this fic if you pinky promise to help me come up with a different title)
You were lying on his chest as he read a story to you, trying to get you to finally fall asleep. But your brain was too awake. When he grabbed his glass from the side table and paused reading to take another sip, you decided to ask him. 
“What’s that, daddy?” You angled your head up to look at his face. 
“It’s whiskey, love.” Your eyes moved between his face and the glass. 
“Can I try some?” You finally asked, making his brows shoot up. 
“This drink isn't for little girls. You’ll have to wait until you’re older.” He chuckled, making you frown. 
“Why can’t I try some now?” You pouted. 
“Because you’re too young, love. Give it a couple years, then I’ll let you have some.” You turned onto your stomach and leaned up to face him better. 
“Please, daddy?” You gave him puppy dog eyes and he stared at you for a moment, then let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. 
“Alright, fine. But just one sip.” You beamed at that and grabbed the glass when he handed it to you. Before tasting it, you decided to sniff it first, noting that it smells like how he sometimes smells. Not able to wait any longer, you took a small sip, then immediately scrunched your face up in disgust. He laughed quietly and you swallowed it, but that only made it worse. 
“It burns!” You whined, coughing lightly. 
“You get used to it, little one.” He said with an amused smile. “Try some more, it should be better this time.” You hesitated, but took another sip. It wasn’t better, it still burned a lot and you could barely take it. “Good girl. Have a little more.” 
“Daddy, it hurts.” 
“I know, love, but if you drink more it’ll stop hurting. Don’t you trust me?” You averted your gaze and bit your lip. After a moment, you brought the glass up to your lips again. “That’s my girl.” He said proudly, making you blush. You coughed again, but he wasn’t wrong, the burn was just barely starting to improve. 
“You’re such a good girl. Drink a little more for me, eh?” You pouted, but nodded and took another sip, this one slightly larger. “There you go… How do you feel, princess?”
“Warm.. n’fuzzy.” That made him laugh quietly. 
“Yeah?” You nodded. “That’s good. Can you do one last thing for daddy?” 
“Mhm.” You could feel yourself getting a little drowsier and you weren’t sure why. 
“Can you finish the rest for me?” You looked at how much was left and whined quietly, but agreed. Figuring it’d be better to get it over with quickly, you chugged the rest, ignoring how much your throat was hurting. “Good girl. You are such a good girl for me, baby.” He took the cup and set it on the side table, along with the book he was reading to you. “Tell me how you feel now.” 
“Mm… sleepy.” You mumbled, making him smile. 
“Don’t try to fight it, love, just go to sleep. It’s past your bedtime anyway.” You let out an incoherent agreement, then laid your head on his chest again, letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders. You weren't so tired that you fell asleep instantly, but you were tired enough where you could barely keep your eyes open. 
Tommy stared down at you as he stroked your hair, soothing you to sleep. You turned more on your stomach and lifted your leg so it was bent and resting over his legs. One of his hands moved down to your bare thigh and rubbed slowly, staying below the hem of your night dress. 
“My sweet girl.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head. You hugged him tighter and he was suddenly very aware of your breasts against his side. “Getting so grown up…” He sighed solemnly. “Thought I told you not to do that? I oughta punish you for disobeying your father.” He suddenly squeezed your thigh and you let out a quiet noise, but didn’t react any other way besides that. 
He kept dragging his hand up and down your thigh, pushing your dress up a little higher each time. For a while, he continued that, waiting until your breathing slowed and you started to fall asleep. He smiled at the sound of your soft snores and brushed your hair away from your face as he looked down at you. Cupping your cheek, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip— so soft… so kissable. He had to shake his head to get rid of the thought as soon as it appeared. You’re too innocent and pure. He’d never be able to forgive himself if he took that from you. But fuck… 
You smiled a little in your sleep and hugged him tighter, pushing your cunt against his hip as your leg rested on his crotch. He stiffened and bit his lip, trying to control his thoughts and his body. But he couldn’t help it when his hand drifted from your cheek to the strap of your dress. He teased it a little, silently debating if he should… It didn’t take much convincing though. 
Slowly pushing the strap down your arm, he just barely brushed his fingertips on your skin. He continued dragging it down until the nightie was being pulled as well, slowly exposing more of you. He only stopped once it was resting on your waist. 
“Fuck.” He hissed, staring at your young, perky breast and hardened nipple. He lowered his hand so it was holding your hip, then raised the one on your thigh to lightly trace over the soft skin. You just looked so young— so little. Especially when he cupped your breast, completely engulfing it in his hand. He knew that your pussy would be just as little. The thought had him biting his lip to stifle a groan, feeling his cock twitch in his pants under your leg. 
He squeezed and groped you slowly, being extra gentle while he still had the self control to do so. When he moved his attention to your nipple and started rolling it between his fingers, you let out a quiet little sound, just barely audible. 
He placed his palm flat on your chest and slowly snaked it down your body, to the bottom of your dress. Without any hesitation, he snaked his hand back up, taking the fabric with it. He cursed under his breath as more and more of your body was becoming visible.
You were perfect. You looked like innocence personified. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he gently pushed your shoulder to get you to lay on your back, making you whine quietly. 
“I know, sweet girl. It’s okay.” He whispered, kissing your head as he turned on his side to face you. He ran his hand over the soft skin of your tummy and down to your hips, where the plain cotton panties rested. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmured, almost dreamily. As his hand continued to explore your body, he tugged down the other side of your dress, then moved his head closer and gently kissed your nipple. He took it into his mouth, suckling on the hard bud and moaning quietly against you. The only reaction you gave was a soft sound and a small shift of your body. 
“Are you gonna let daddy see your pretty pussy?” His voice was quiet, but thick with arousal. “Shake your head if you don’t want me to.” He chuckled quietly, as he kissed over your breast, just enjoying having his lips on you. When you didn’t respond, he got up and moved between your legs, settling on his stomach between them. Rough hands were placed on your thighs, prying them apart to give himself more room. 
He leaned down and inhaled deeply, savoring your scent. With a low groan, he started mouthing at your cunt, licking and sucking through the panties just to tease himself. Your hips squirmed a little and a quiet moan left you, making his eyes snap up to your face, but you were still fast asleep. After only a few more seconds, he pulled back so he could move your underwear to the side, exposing your glistening cunt. 
“Do you like when daddy touches you like this? Is that why you’re so wet already?” He asked teasingly, not expecting a response. Using his thumbs, he pulled your folds apart, giving him a better view of your untouched pussy. “My perfect little girl…” He sighed, unable to tear his eyes away. 
He moved his thumbs closer and pulled your hole open a little, imagining how it’d look stretched open on his cock. The thought had him grinding against the bed like a fucking teenager. He desperately wanted to force his fat cock inside, split you open and push it in deep. He wanted you to cry and beg him to stop, to tell him how much he was hurting you. 
He wanted to bury his cock in your torn up, used little pussy, press the tip right up against your cervix and fuck you full of his come. He wanted to give you load after load, not stopping until he fucked a baby into you. Even though, realistically, that could never be allowed to happen, he enjoyed picturing you with a round belly, your breasts swollen with milk. He wanted to keep you at home, safe from the world, to raise all of the babies he fucks into you, cook him dinner every night, drain his balls whenever he needs it. 
“Fuck—” He choked out, suddenly getting on his knees between your legs, opening his pants to free his cock. He stroked himself slowly a few times, gaze dragging all over your body. “See what you fucking to do me?” He hissed, slapping his cock on your clit a few times. Practically holding his breath, he dragged the tip through your folds, covering himself in your slick. He held his cock right up against your entrance, breathing heavily and closing his eyes, shaking his head to convince himself not to do it. 
He’d hate himself for the rest of his life… But would that be worth it to feel you stretched past your limit around his cock? 
“No.” He decided, clearing his throat and opening his eyes again. “No. Not— not yet…” He leaned over your body, keeping his length firmly between your cunt and his stomach, then started grinding slowly. He watched your brows scrunch together a little when you felt the constant rubbing on your clit. 
Dragging his gaze over the rest of your face, he finally settled on your lips. He leaned closer, trying to steady his breathing as his eyes grew heavier until they finally shut, only a second before he pressed his lips to yours. You didn’t kiss back— obviously— but he enjoyed feeling your soft lips against his. Growing needier, his hips sped up as he deepened the kiss, licking into your mouth, practically devouring you. 
You let out a muffled sound and started squirming a little, making him pull back. As he panted, he watched your heavy eyes trying to flutter open. 
“Daddy?” You mumbled, voice laced with sleepiness. “What…” You trailed off, unable to get out any other words, and he shushed you softly. 
“Don’t worry, little one. I’m here.. you’re okay.” He murmured, kissing your forehead and cupping your cheek, the movement of his hips never faltering. “Just go back to sleep. You’re safe with daddy.” And you believed him. You stopped trying to open your eyes and relaxed into the bed again. He resumed the kiss, keeping the intensity from before as he pushed his tongue in your mouth and moved his hand from your cheek to your jaw to tilt your head up a little more. 
“Daddy…” You tried to say, voice coming out in a pathetic, muffled whine. He hummed in response, not pulling back to bother with verbally replying. His free hand moved to cup your breast, groping and kneading until you were letting out quiet little sounds into the kiss. You whimpered when he started pinching and pulling on your nipple. 
“Shh… It’s okay, love.” He said softly, only pulling away to speak before immediately diving back into the kiss. His hand strayed from your breast, dragging all over your body, feeling every inch of skin possible. 
He broke away from your lips so he could trail kisses along your jaw, then down your neck. His cock throbbed at the idea of covering you in marks— claiming you so everyone knew who you belonged to. But he knew he couldn’t if he wanted this to happen again. So he continued kissing your skin, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. Everything about you was absolutely perfect. 
“I can’t wait to feel your cunt.” He whispered into the crook of your neck, his breathing growing more labored. “You’re such a good little girl, aren’t you? And all mine.” He was rambling as he neared his release, far quicker than he would’ve liked. “All fucking mine. You belong to daddy, eh? These perfect tits,” he suckled on your nipples, quickly and eagerly, “belong to daddy. Your pretty little cunt belongs to daddy.” He growled, cock twitching at the thought. “You’re mine.”
He cursed under his breath when he felt his balls tighten up. Lifting himself so he was sitting on his knees, he rapidly fisted his cock, keeping your panties pulled to the side. As soon as the first ropes of come shot out onto your cunt, he let out a low groan at the sight. He grunted and moaned, breathing heavily as he watched all of his come land on your folds. He waited until the last drop beaded on the tip, then dragged his cock through your slit, spreading his arousal. He moved it down toward your hole and just barely pushed his cock forward to get some of it inside.
“Good girl.” He said through a heavy breath, admiring you for another moment before fixing your underwear and night dress, then tucking his cock back in his pants. He stopped again and just stared at you for a few seconds. Your cheeks were a little flushed from the alcohol and probably also the stimulation on your clit, and your lips were just barely parted as you breathed quietly. “Made daddy feel so good.” He whispered as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. You let out an incoherent sound, making him smile. “Sweet dreams, little one.” 
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