#started on the ribbing earlier

[frayedcircus]

she swallowed a calliope and her bones look like a cartoon

[goldenhour-s]

ophelia aka new kindergarten teacher in town; feat. @rosymiel's pretty botanical tattoos 🌿

[brown-little-robin]

story time!

What Happened to Dimple

In late summer, Ritsu got very ill. He couldn't keep any food down and he was too weak to walk. Their limited food supplies were running out in the middle of nowhere, and Dimple was the only functional person in the group. Ritsu was out of it, and obviously Mob, a zombie with no goals except "eat whatever is in front of me" and "hang around with little brother", was little help on the finding-new-food front.

So Dimple had to find some way to keep Ritsu alive.

Before starvation set in, Dimple decided to intervene. It played out okay at first. He tied Ritsu to a tree (tied ropes around his torso, knotted them behind the tree trunk so Ritsu couldn't reach) and took Shigeo with him to go acquire some food from whoever passed by on the road they're traveling on first.

(he took Shigeo because he couldn't leave him with no able-bodied guardian—better to be safe than sorry, especially because. y'know. they're on the edge of starvation, and Shigeo is a zombie. but obviously Ritsu, dehydrated and dizzy, interpreted this as "Dimple Might Be Finally Stealing My Brother" despite Dimple trying to explain.)

(Ritsu didn't really protest, though. he was too weak to do much and also he didn't want to get eaten. he just let it happen. he hoped Dimple would come back. he hoped he was just being paranoid.)

the first food source they ran into, unfortunately, was a group of humans traveling with a cart. Dimple didn't really have qualms about stealing, but he tried asking peacefully first, using his "power over the zombie" (e.g. he convinced Shigeo to take a few steps back and Shigeo obliges him) to demonstrate that they could be a major threat. (he was bluffing, of course. Shigeo wasn't being "held back" by Dimple, he's just vibing.) and he was given food! food and water and even toilet paper and a blanket!

so then Dimple returned to their camp with Mob and the supplies, but the people they stole from were a trap—a convoy that deliberately draws people in so they can gauge parties' strength before stealing from them in return. Dimple and the Kageyama brothers got attacked by one (1) guy with a gun, because that's about all the firepower the convoy thought they needed to risk on this little group.

Dimple could've just given up the supplies and tried again. But the thing was, Ritsu didn't really have enough strength in him for that.

If Ritsu didn't get food and water and rest here, he really might have died. Also, they'd have to give up their ammo, which was what they were planning to trade for food in the next settlement they come to.

Dimple looked around. He looked at Shigeo, a half-baked plan to get Shigeo to Do Something forming, and saw him kneeling by Ritsu, eyes half-lidded, looking unresponsive. but Dimple knew Shigeo's body language by then, and he saw how his shoulders were subtly hunched over toward Ritsu, and instantly Dimple knew that the kid's patience had run out. going away from Ritsu with Dimple had been a big concession and now Shigeo was done.

So. Dimple took the supplies and lured the guy with the gun a little way away from the boys, and then he just straight-up attacked the guy. not with a gun, because he was forced to leave the guns in the camp with Ritsu.

Dimple dropped the supplies and made a move. He got shot, and it was Loud. but it just grazed his shoulder, so he managed to drag the guy away from the supplies. Dimple's goal was to prevent the boys from seeing any more death, and he succeeded.

Ritsu, meanwhile, heard that gunshot.

He'd been sleeping most of the time Dimple was away. He was a little more alert by the time Dimple got back, although still physically wiped. He heard that gunshot and froze. And then, doing rapid calculations and realizing that he was danger if Dimple was dead, he started fighting the ropes. He had to get away he had to get Shigeo away he had to RUN.

He fought the ropes silently at first, and then, slowly, his brain progressed from the logical "if Dimple is dead we're in trouble because that man knows our location" to "Dimple is dead, Dimple is dead". he started making a horrible cry as he tried to get free. He wasn't crying, exactly, didn't let himself relax that much, he was just making this kind of frustrated, despairing wail sound.

Shigeo had been watching Ritsu thrash and wriggle in increasing certainty that something was happening, but he didn't know if it was good or bad. The sound, though, the sound was bad. So he tried to help.

He helped by just pulling on the ropes, first, which broke Ritsu's ribs.

but he stopped when Ritsu made a pain sound and, for one of the first times Ritsu has seen him do this as a zombie, did something related to tool use. he went to the supplies and brought Ritsu a knife.

so the Kageyama brothers survived! yay!

[mosspapi]

I can't tell if I'm just having a massive costo flare or if I've actually dislocated and/or cracked my ribs somehow.

I know I need to ask my parents abt it but I had a massive argument with my mother about it earlier today because apparently the reason I have chronic pain is because I don't take Advil (absolute bullshit on many levels and she knows this but she refuses to admit when she doesn't know something), so I don't want to have to deal with her again but also I don't want to leave this if it IS a bigger issue ya feel.

Like it feels like just a really bad flare, but they don't normally last for 3+ days in a row, 24/7, at the "sharp, hard-to-breathe, plus aching, plus reduced mobility" level. That type of flare usually lasts at most a couple of hours. So I'm concerned it's a bigger issue than that, but I'm also paranoid about health things so idk if I'm overreacting ya feel?

[shoveitevil]

ok lock in time

[seattlesellie]

Jealous. 🎀

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

cw: mean dom!ellie sub!reader, jealous kinda toxic ellie, eating it through the panties, orgasm denial, spit play (literally spits down ur panties like), exhibitionism, some dude named michael.

an: pls be gentle, i haven’t written in a long time! 💗 credit to angel gbc for the mod used in the picture above <3

something we can all agree on is the importance of aftercare — right?

Ellie is big on that obviously, as she should. Caressing her slim fingers down your body, planting wanton kisses on your shoulders, running her palms across your shaky thighs, whispering words of encouragement in your ear;

“Did so good for me, babe”

“I love you, so much”

“Need anything? hm?” She’d murmur against your skin whilst cradling your body from behind.

And she always insists on cleaning you up. She consistently renders you nothing but an achy mess, dried up juices staining your wobbly jelly thighs, combined sweat on your breasts and ribs, back of your neck. The ritual of bringing a wet towel to bed, swiping it’s fabric across your inner thighs, your face, your behind — is a sacred one for her. Not solely because she loves hearing your sweet, exhausted sighs of relief as she cleans the soil away, but also not solely because she gets to see your naked body in all of its glory again.

It’s the act of taking care of what’s hers. In a way, when she wipes your cum away, she’s taking care of herself — too.

Here, lays a solid proof that she can break things apart and put them back together again. She’s not a total fucking fuckup.

The ability of making you scream and cry, then moments later have you whisper in that saccharine voice of yours an airy “love you s’much, Els…”

It’s fucking exhilarating.

She loves it every time, she does it every time.

But today… today you pissed her off. You poked the bear, for real this time.

There’s this new Michael guy in Jackson. He’s handsome, tall, has coal black curls that somehow stay soft and shiny even in this apocalyptic hellscape. He told Ellie and you where he was from, what he did, why he came. Ellie didn’t listen to a thing he was saying. It was like he turned into a fly and started loudly buzzing in her ear. He kept looking at you weird. Smiling at you, smirking, laughing at your jokes, even the ones that weren’t all that funny. She knows you have this affect on people, that damn charm, hell — you have this affect on her.

And she’s usually just playfully jealous, manages to keep it relatively tame and simple by tightening her grip on your waist.

But you just wouldn’t stop bringing him up. “Michael” this, and “Michael” that, “Michael invited us for dinner”, “Michael said this funny thing earlier”,

For all Ellie knows Michael could die in a ditch and she wouldn’t give a fuck.

You're on your way back home from the Tipsy Bison on a chilly Thursday night. Jesse was there, Dina, Maria... and Michael. She thinks of his name and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, tart, pungent.

"Meh, I'm more of a Tequila girl, Whiskey tastes like shit" you announced with a giggle. Michael rested his hand on your thigh, and agreed with a nod and a chuckle. For you, it meant nothing.

For Ellie, it meant everything.

Her blood pressure was usually low, steady, healthy as a bull. As of now, Ellie felt like she just ran a marathon. The blood rushed to her head and her brows furrowed without intention. She cracks her neck and moves it left and right, takes a long and burning sip out of her Whiskey and shuts her eyes. She repeats a mantra in her head; "I'm not angry, I'm not angry, It's fine."

But you're so damn intuitive.

"Els? y'tired?" you murmur towards your auburnette girlfriend. She suckles on her bottom lip and considers saying no, but she lies.

"Exhausted"

You leave the humble bar hand in hand, wrapped up in her big coat that smells of mint and wood and Ellie. She prays you won't mention his name, prays you could just go home and forget about this whole thing, but you do, innocently.

"Oh, Michael said one of the horses is sick, I'm thinking of helping out in the barn tomorrow an—"

She stops you mid sentence with a scoff and a tightening grip on your hand. "Oh, mhm, Michael said that?"

Her voice mocks your own a little.

You stop and shift your gaze towards Ellie who has her lips tucked in a tight line. Internally, she's cussing herself out. You don't deserve her anger, but she can't help herself. Your answer is an unsure hum. Her grip tightens even more, and it hurts your palm but you keep on walking side by side, quietly. Five minutes manage to pass with no words being muttered by no one. That's until she shakes her head and lets go of a husky chuckle.

"Did I do something?", you mutter doe eyed. Ellie stops in her tracks and inhales. She grabs you by your waist and walks towards you, making you have to clumsily pace backwards until your back meets a cold grey brick wall with a resounding thud. "Uhg!" You hiccup, breath catching down your throat. You even sweetly giggle, thinking in your head that this could possibly be just a sweet attack of PDA.

But her eyes are dark, gone from emerald to pine, pupils pitch black as big as a button. Her warm whiskey breath meets your nose and your top lip, you gulp. Why isn't she laughing? teasing?

"El?" your voice is still candied, always. Ellies mouth is agape, scarred eyebrows scrunched and furrowed as if she's confused, or pissed, or provoked. Her forehead meets yours so automatically, you attempt to connect your lips with a kiss but she backs away meanly. Albeit her taunting position, how intimidating and truly scary she looks whilst you're caged within her frame, your'e still smiling, you're still thinking she's just teasing.

You're not used to this, she knows, but god knows she yearns to teach you a lesson.

You don't fuck with what's hers.

She licks her bottom lip before she starts speaking.

"Take off your skirt"

Her voice nearly renders you drunk, It's huskiness, gruffness, it's depth, and really, you've only had one shot. Your cheeks heat up and your ears feel as if they're nearly burning. Her lips are so damn close to yours and she still won't let you kiss her.

"Wh... we're in public, we can't—" you stutter, eyes shifting downwards towards the knee she has shoved near your barely covered crotch. When she brings it upwards just to brush delicately on your inner thigh, you let go of a small gasp.

She responds to your gasp with a barely audible "Mhm?", her eyes sharpening with intent.

"Yes we can", she tsk's, and her voice taunts. Her eyes graze over your face, and you expect her next sentence to bite like the last one did, but her voice goes softer. "For me?", she cocks her head to the side.

And it simply pushes you over the edge.

You peel your skirt off of your body, asscheeks plastered over the brick wall as her body squeezes you further back, and you're left half naked with a piece of fabric scrunched below your knees, resting on your shoes. She eyes your body up and down, meeting your pleading and still confused eyes — and for a moment, thinks of just carrying you home and taking care of business once you get there. No jealousy, none of that.

But it's still bitter down her throat, and she can still picture his disgusting hand meeting your soft thigh, her soft thigh — as your body is hers, so that thought is ever so fleeting. It's either now or now.

Her cold as ice finger traces faint circles on your lower tummy, making the fine hairs of your body rise like soldiers. You whimper quietly as her finger snaps the elastic band of your panties and lets it smack down your pelvis. You rub your thighs together, but you're ever so pliant as she makes your legs spread wide with a boot covered foot opening up your calves like a gate.

She whispers in your ear. "Are you wet?", it makes you shiver.

"M'cold" you whine.

She scoffs.

She kneads your bra cup with her palm, squeezing an erect nipple with her thumb and middle finger. "Didn't ask that"

Her eyes meet your gaze and again she reconsiders this whole thing — because you truly look so needy, and your lips are so pouty and sweet and red with cold, you look as if you'd die if she didn't kiss you right now so how can she even be worried, let alone be jealous?

She knows how much you love her, how much you yearn for nobody but her, how her touch leaves you speechless time and time again.

But it's like something takes over, a dark figure, a figure that's thirsty and starving and wants to prove a thing it already knows.

It's an internal struggle, she doesn't want to be possessive,

She can't help it.

Your panties are striped with pink and white, and she looks at them as if they're the most expensive lace in the whole entire world. Her breathing gets heavier as she curls her fingers inside the cotton fabric, pupils darkening when she notices a sweet clear string of your arousal clinging from the entrance of your cunt to the bottom of your underwear.

She chuckles, followed by a sigh of relief that you notice. You are wet, right in the middle of the street where an innocent soul could catch you at any given moment. "Didn't answer cause you're shy?" She knows you so well. You bite your lip and nod, butterflies fighting in the pits of your stomach. A chaste kiss on the lips is all you get from her, and you deeply whine into the air. "At least kiss me!" you beg, — god, you're so cute when you're pissed.

Before landing on her knees, Ellie looks from side to side in order to check that there's truly nobody around, and no — not because she's scared to get caught, but because she'd die before she let someone see her girlfriend half naked with her skirt down her thighs.

Ellie is face to face with your quivering, pantie covered cunt. A wet patch greets her — a fuckin' pleasure, one she can't help but swipe her tongue across. Your choked up, terrified sound of a moan is a symphony to her hears, fuck Mozart. Her eager muscle of a tongue is so warm against your pussy you nearly forget it started snowing yesterday.

You buck your hips inwards, she groans. "No moving", she warns — simply to assert a dominance that has already been asserted. She kisses your little clit, coo's at the way it slightly pokes out of the fabric, erect and pumping on her tongue. "Ellie... Ellie... Ellie", you babble like a prayer, which she nods to. "S'my name, that's fuckin' right", she groans as her husky voice is muffled by your soaked panties.

"Ellie..." you repeat, thighs beginning to ache as you try and spread them further apart, almost sitting on her face.

Ellie, not Michael.

She smiles, greedy, triumphant.

She flicks her tongue on your clit, once, twice, three times before biting on your meaty pussy lips. You bite your knuckles in order to keep your voice down, but she glares up at you. "Do that again n'I swear to god I'm stopping" she growls.

You're not used to this side of her at all, but her voice makes your hole leak a small stream from deep inside. She feels it's wetness on her tongue, eyes closing in ecstasy as she audibly suckles your sweet, tangy, heavenly juices from the now sheer fabric. Her own spit runs down her chin, she doesn't even bother to wipe it off. All you can hear are your breathy, whiney moans, tiny begs of "take 'em off, please", regarding your panties, and Ellie's throaty groans. You're so wet from your own juices and her saliva it nearly gets uncomfortable, but then again you're so goddamn close to cumming.

You try taking matters to your own hands, attempting to peel off your panties from your waist with a shaky hand but she snarls and slaps your wrist away.

"Nuh uh, pussy's fuckin' mine, don't touch it"

With relentless sucking on your drenched clit, and soiled panties, she opens her eyes to merely glare at you again with a warning look. "When you're close, you let me know" she bites.

You don't respond.

A stinging slap meets your pussy, which makes your thighs shake, whole body jolt, and throat ache with a high pitched yelp.

"You're not listening" Ellie warns.

"You listen when I talk" she warns again. Her tongue meets your clit and it pushes it further and further up. You shake, eyesight gone blurry, you're close, you know it by the way the coil down your stomach threatens to snap, and by the way it tickles down there so damn bad.

"M'close" you brokenly wail.

She grunts deeply and stops completely. your heart nearly breaks, no no no no no. "Ellie, Ellie, Els, no!" You try and buck your hips forward but she holds you in place with an iron like grip. You buck them again and she peels off the fabric of your underwear, slightly rising up as she stares inside at the mess she made of you. There's a devilish smirk that creeps up from her lips, apple of one cheek rising. You let out a sigh of relief, thinking that perhaps she'll actually fucking eat you out properly instead of letting you suffer inside a warm, wet material of a mess that truly doesn't look like something wearable anymore. Instead, she audibly spits inside with a "Ptu'", letting the band snap shut. Her saliva mixes with your warm sleek. You're so confused she nearly feels bad, but she's such a cunt that she really doesn't.

"Were going back inside," she murmurs so casually as if she didn't just fuck you up in the middle of the street, as if her chin isn't shiny with your precum. "N'if Michael puts his hand on you again, I'm eating it in front of him"

[impeakcharacterdesign]

Just the Tip

— Thomas Hewitt x Fem!Reader —

MDNI!!!

Summary: It’s the 1960s and Luda Mae frowns upon premarital sex like any good Christian woman. You and Tommy are young, hot, and in love but the only problem is that Tommy was raised to wait until marriage and never lets you two go any further than kissing and some groping.

But the devil lives in the hot Texan sun and even God takes a break from the summer heat.

Notes: this is super short, just pure smut, self indulgent I’m obsessed with big boy Tommy 😭😭😭 i swear I’m working on part 2 of my sister Sinclair fic but Tommy has me in a choke hold and I needed an outlet.

No TW that I can think of other than bad smut and maybe ??? Coercion??? Cause Tommy wants to be a good boy and stop before y’all go too far but you flash him and then he’s absolutely 100% in. A bit of religious stuff, period typical sexism but vaguely. Let me know if I should add anything else and I’ll get right on it. Reader isn’t ever referred to using “she/her” pronouns but is described as having breasts and does have female genitalia so I tagged it fem reader to be safe

Enjoy!!!

The early morning sun burned, chasing away what little cool air remained of the night before. While the barn shaded you from the unforgiving sun and hid you from disapproving eyes — or lecherous in the case of the older men of the family — it also trapped in the heat your two bodies gave off.

Thomas pressed his open mouth to your own, tongue swiping over your teeth eager to taste you. Your hands gripped his dark hair, ruining any half-effort attempt he had made earlier in the day to smooth down his unruly hair. He held you in his arms, body pressed tightly against him in an attempt to get as close as possible, his large frame hiding you even further from prying eyes than the shadowed corners of the old barn. The kiss was deep and hungry and served as a brief respite from Luda Maes ever watching eyes. While she had been fine with you living with the family before you and Tommy were married, she forbade you from sharing a room or being intimate, a rule she absolutely refused to budge on and one that Uncle Charlie took a strange glee in ribbing you about. But much like the Texan heat, the heated looks you gave each other were unavoidable and only grew hotter as the summer days went on. Luda Mae wanted to wait until the following spring to make your union official but at the rate the town was drying up, there wouldn't even be a priest to officiate the ceremony, much less any guest to attend. You highly doubted anyone outside of the family would want to witness your union anyway but still, Luda Mae didn't want the few who would to get wise and start counting months.

These stolen moments in the barn were as good as you could get — and by god were they good.

Tommy’s large hands groped at your breasts, pawing roughy at your nipples through the worn fabric of your old dress. It wasn’t long before you found yourself in the familiar position of being sprawled out on the barn floor, coarse hay a discomfort you had long learned to endure for the sake of pleasure.

You desperately thrust your sex up onto his growing bulge, whining when he groaned and pinned your hips with his own, preventing you from getting your desired stimulation. “Please Tommy,” you beg, lips separating, “We don’t have to do too much, I just wanna touch you.” You press open-mouthed kisses to his neck, pulling softly at the flesh with your teeth and tongue dragging across the bites to taste the salt on his skin. Your hands eagerly worked to untuck his faded green shirt and wrap around him, roaming the vast expanse of his back. His whole body shuddered in your arms, an attempt to hold back from eating you whole.

You know Thomas will put an end to your romp soon, the tense lines of his shoulders and the way he shuts his eyes a sign that he's reaching his limit, that if you two don't stop now you won't be able to stop — but that’s exactly what you want.

You're tired of holding back, of this constant edging you have to endure when you’re in his presence and it gets harder every day. Just yesterday afternoon, Uncle Charlie sprayed Tommy with the hose, telling him that he was filthy and needed to get out of those clothes before he went inside. Watching as he undressed by the back door so that you could put his clothes on the line to dry had nearly given you a heatstroke — and if Charlie’s leering grin was any clue, you swear he did it on purpose in an attempt to rile you up. You ran off before you sinned right there in the yard, the memory of Thomas's shirt clinging to his arms, his chest glistening with water had kept you company well into the night.

So before Tommy puts a stop to your roll in the hay you make your move. You lift your dress up past your breast and expose yourself to him, you can see his breath stutter in his chest, this was quickly becoming the farthest you two had ever gone.

“Just watch me, Tommy, watch me,” you say breathlessly.

And he does, he sits on his haunches like a predator, his engorged cock straining against his pants and imagining just a taste has your tongue darting out to wet your lips, his gaze fixated on the movement.

Sliding your panties off your legs, your fingers dip briefly into your wet hole, gathering slick to rub onto your clit. At the very first touch, you let out a shuddering breath and you watch as his shoulders heave.

You begin rubbing your clit at an intense pace already turned on from the earlier heavy petting, not once breaking eye contact with Thomas as you do. With each moan you muffle you see his eyes grow darker with desire breathing with his mouth open as though he could taste your scent in the air. When he finally lets his cock spring free you let out your loudest moan yet. It’s better than you ever thought. His cock is thick and heavy, drooping slightly under its own weight but still undeniably firm. It curves slightly and you imagine that if it was inside you it would scrape against your walls in a way you've never been able to do with just your fingers.

Thomas grips his cock firmly and gives it a few tugs, eyes alternating between hungrily drinking in the sight of your blissed-out expression and your dripping pussy. You buck your hips, desperate to press your clit against your fingers and Thomas jerks his length even faster, rubbing his tip and spreading his precum on his hand.

God, you wished it was you that was touching him.

Thomas settles onto his knees and after a brief hesitation begins to shuffle closer to you. The sight of him crawling to you on his knees with his dripping length in hand made your pussy clench around nothing and you let out a whimper. You remove your fingers from your clit, feeling the heat radiating from his cock as he settles on top of you, legs spreading around his waist, your hips slightly raised and resting on his thighs.

The tip hesitantly pressed against your clit and your moan fills the small space before you can suppress it. This was better than you were hoping and it felt as though you were pressing against the boundaries the lord had set for you. Tommy’s eyes find yours looking for reassurance, asking without words, “Do you think this is okay?”

You find enough comprehension in your lust-addled brain to come up with a coherent answer, “It should be fine, I think,” you stammer out, “I mean, it’s not like — not like you’re putting it in so, it should be fine.”

You’re not overly familiar with the word of God outside of Sunday services and Luda Mae’s lectures, both of which you were forced to attend and spent tuning out in favor of watching the sweat build on Tommy’s brow while he worked through the window.

You think that if God could feel the weight of Thomas like you did, feel the heat like you could, you think he’d forgive the sin of your act.

It seems like that was all the reassurance that Thomas needed because no sooner than the words fumbled their way out of your mouth that he begins to drag the length of his cock against your slit.

God, if this is what hell was supposed to be like, burning and full of decadence, then perhaps you didn’t mind being a sinner.

The way he ruts against you is euphoric. Heavy breaths escape you both and you can’t help the words that spill from your lips.

“God, Tommy, I wish you would put it inside me,” you whine out “‘wanna feel your fat cock in my pussy, wanna get filled,” you might as well be begging at this point, and Tommy's increases his pace to the point that you think he wants the same thing, that he’s desperate to thrust into you rather than against you and —

And then the tip of his cock catches on your entrance and you both stop breathing.

“Maybe — Maybe it doesn’t count.” You stammer out, “It didn’t go in and it’s just the tip, and I don’t think that the tip counts” With the slightest twitch of his hips the tip of his cock has slipped inside.

"It's - it's just the tip it's fine” Your words sound empty even to you but the reassurance is all Tommy needs to push forward and let the head of his cock slide into your welcoming heat

His soul nearly leaves his body when he feels your raw pussy on the head of his cock. He jerks his length furiously and your fingers begin to move against your clit again, eager to meet your high with Thomas.

But it’s not enough. He was right there, right there just one push of his hips he’d be right where you needed him

“Please Tommy” Canting your hips slightly so the tip begins to dig deeper into you, you begin to plead once more, “wanna feel you fill me up, wanna remember the shape of your cock please”

Thomas feels years of control break at your words and with one swing of his hips, he bottoms out instantly. You feel like you've been punched in the gut as the air rushes out of you and you let out a sound like a wounded animal. Tommy stays still deep inside you, shaking and heaving, absolutely drunk on the feeling of your soaked walls clenching vigorously around his length.

You feel full in a way you've never thought possible. His length throbs, its girth stretching you in a way that burns.

When he finally starts thrusting, you’re not ready. He’s like a man possessed, solely focused on the feel of you around him, your skin pressed against his, his blood pounding in his ears.

“Wait— Tommy, ah, slow — slow down, oh god!” You can’t hold back your moans and he can’t stop, both fully engrossed in the feel of each other with no control over your own lust. Thomas crashes his lips onto yours in a halfhearted attempt to keep down your moans, it’s sloppy, clashing teeth and drooling tongues, spit escaping your lips, unlike any you’ve shared before.

This is completely different from what you’ve imagined your first time together would be like. It’s not your wedding night, you're laying on the dirty barn floor and there’s absolutely nothing gentle about the way Tommy is ravaging you. Your pussy is sopping wet and with every thrust, it lets out an embarrassing squelch, your juices and Tommy’s pre-cum leak down your ass and make a sticky mess in his dark pubes.

He doesn’t stop even as your walls spasm around him, cumming on his cock and digging your nails into his strong back. He works you through your orgasm even as your mouth clumsily forms the words to beg for him to slow down or to give you a moment. It’s too much, the sensations completely overloading your brain and all you can do is hold on tightly to him, lost in the ecstasy of your release.

Thomas lets out a deep, guttural groan as he cums, hips stuttering as he bullies his fat cock into the deepest part of your sex, filling you to the brim and your vision goes white.

Boneless, neither one of you makes a move to separate from the other, so thoroughly satisfied and content to lie where you are holding each other, Thomas’s softening cocking slipping out of you and spilling his release onto the ground.

His weight on you is comforting, you gently press kisses to his face and bask in the way his heavy breaths caress your sweaty skin.

“I love you.” You whisper into the shell of his ear and he squeezes you against him, repeating the words in his garbled voice the best he could. Your love is just for the two of you, no one else had a place in your world, no one else had the right to peak in on your affection or gawk at your differences.

This moment in time was just for the two of you.

“Thomas! Where the hell are ya, boy!”

Well, until Uncle Charlie’s voice brought you back down to reality.

[astraystayyh]

Breathe

hyunjin x photographer!reader. friends to lovers with so so much tension and pining. hyunjin is too pretty (yet again). suggestive in the end and reader is wearing a dress. inspired by Bathtub hyunjin.

thank you hyunjin yet again for being my eternal muse and inspiring this brainrot. wrote this while listening to All mine by plaza so.. please enjoy <333 feedback is highly appreciated 🫶🏻

Is it possible to drown in the depths of your emotions, until breathing becomes a forgotten process, one that eludes each one of your senses?

Yes, you believe, if standing before a vision of ethereal beauty, as you are now, all encapsulated within Hwang Hyunjin’s being.

The camera slightly shakes in your grasp as you linger by the threshold of the bathroom, eyeing Hyunjin’s silhouette submerged in the waters. He’s sitting inside the bathtub, fingers running through his raven locks, awaiting your return.

He doesn’t seem to notice your presence, nor do you wish him to. Instead, you remain silent by the door, allowing yourself a few seconds to savor the intoxicating aura he exudes.

See, he isn’t doing anything particular, nor is he adorned in anything enticing— a simple white shirt and matching linen pants. And yet, his presence fills the air, compelling oxygen particles to flee from your being, leaving you transfixed, unable to do anything but gaze at him.

“I can feel you staring,” he remarks casually, his eyes still drawn before him as he leans back, tapping the edge of the tub with his ring-clad fingers.

Your heart pulses against your ribs, a dance that the organ knows intimately by now, one that Hyunjin alone can orchestrate. It isn’t the first time he’s had this effect on you, it is a familiar territory you first breached when Minho introduced you to him.

Hyunjin is a friend, but his hands find your waist more times than deemed platonic, and you like his touch much more than you’d like to admit.

“I'm assessing my subject, you know?” A faint grin dances upon your lips as you approach the bathtub. Hyunjin is doing you a favor— you just booked your first photography gig, and your client only has one condition: to shoot it in a bathtub. You wanted to translate your vision to life beforehand, and Hyunjin volunteered to help you.

“And how do I look?” he inquires, his smile a sugary dream that coaxes forth his left dimple. You place your camera gently on the countertop, bending down to inspect him up close.

His eyelids glisten with the golden glitter you delicately applied earlier. His skin is dewy, glistening underneath the warm lightning, and his lips drip crimson, courtesy of the cherry chapstick you carefully tapped into place.

There is always a myriad of visions that come to your mind when you think of Hyunjin— a blazing fire where each flame surges higher towards the heavens, a burning dance of passion and confidence; or a delicate red rose standing resilient in an empty field, vulnerable yet unwavering in its strength.

And now, you see a siren, beckoning mortals with a voice of beauty, ensnaring them with its hypnotic allure, much like he captivates you in this moment.

“You look nice,” you settle on saying, and he playfully pouts, his thumb grazing against your wrist lightly, akin to the delicate flutter of a butterfly's wing. “That's it? You never compliment me properly.”

“Someone’s gotta keep your ego in check,” you shrug, grabbing a dozen of roses and scattering them all around his body. You nod, satisfied with the outcome, finally retrieving your camera.

“Let's start with a simple shot, look at the camera, as you would when seducing someone.”

Instead of looking at the lens, Hyunjin's gaze finds yours first. With a deliberate slowness, his eyes trace the contours of your form, sending delicious shivers down your spine. His pupils dilate, his gaze darkens, before he reluctantly tears his eyes away, finally shifting his focus to the camera.

it takes you a few beats longer to find your voice once again.

“Hold still, one… two… three,” you murmur, capturing a few shots, pausing for a few seconds to admire the warmth of the light bouncing off his honeyed skin. “Perfect.”

“Me or the picture?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes, and you roll yours in response.

“The photographer.”

“You’re right, you're perfect,” he replies simply, and you're momentarily taken aback, your eyes widening slightly. He notices, a small smile playing on his lips as you grab his hand to adjust his pose.

“You aren't allowed to speak anymore,” you declare, guiding his index finger to his lips while his head rests on his other curled fist. He grins, before his expression morphs into a smoldering gaze, one that blankets your skin in hues of red from its sheer intensity.

“Look at me this time,” you instruct, and he nods obediently, directing his gaze towards you. Though your eyes remain fixed on the lens, you can sense the intensity of his gaze piercing through you—suddenly, the white dress you're wearing feels too sheer to contain the flames ignited by his stare.

“Mm,” you hum in approval as you look at the result. A sweet realization washes over you as you notice the subtle shift in his gaze— does he know his eyes unconsciously soften when they land on you?

With each click of the camera, your nerves dissipate, replaced by a growing confidence as each shot turns out exquisitely. They look worthy of gracing billboards worldwide, a privilege of working with a model as beautiful as him, one who portrays emotions as if they were crafted solely for him to feel.

“Good, let's try an overhead shot now,” you instruct, slinging the camera strap around your neck before climbing into the bathtub, legs on either side of his body. You’re hovering over him as he gazes up at you, his fluttering eyelashes echoing the erratic beat of your heart.

Your eyes briefly trace the contours of his now-translucent white shirt, a veil that delicately clings to his form, accentuating the sculpted lines of his physique—the arc of his v-line melding seamlessly into the fabric of his trousers. He possesses the body of a masterful dancer, a muse Michelangelo himself would have revered.

“Take off your shirt,” you suddenly request, and though your words are met with a quirked eyebrow, he obliges effortlessly. With a fluid motion, he peels the garment from his frame, sending it sailing across the bathroom's expanse.

“Good?” he questions but you remain silent because words have suddenly become beyond your grasp. Your client's request for a portrait suddenly feels inadequate and you almost itch to cancel it, because you know it won't exude the same beauty as Hyunjin’s. For each fiber of his being flusters you, makes you hyper aware of your every pulse point and how they all come together to chant Hyunjin’s name.

“Look up at me as you lean back,” you finally say, positioning the camera directly above his head. With each click, your heartbeat speeds up even more at the sight— collarbones and arms bathed in the play of light and shadow, his long, wet hair cascading over broad shoulders, and worse of all, a faint smirk that graces his placid face, as if he's aware of how breathtaking he looks in this moment.

“Should I do this?” he asks, picking up a rose and brushing its dewy petals against his lips. You swallow hard, nodding meekly before swiftly capturing a few more frames.

Emotions twist you into a peculiar being, yearning for your very soul to liquefy, transforming into the water droplets adorning the rose's petals, longing to caress Hyunjin’s lips too.

Hyunjin suddenly straightens his posture, hands coming to rest gently on your calves, fingers dancing along the hems of your dress with a delicate touch.

“How’d I do? Do I look good for you?” he asks and your knees weaken beneath you, his words rendering you a merciless leaf, swayed by the fiery winds he commands, with his words, with his touch, with his eyes, all solely on you.

“For me?” you echo, and he nods, his hand moving languidly up and down your leg, pausing delicately at your knee.

“Mm. You're the only one I want to impress.”

Your response escapes your being breathlessly. “And why is that?”

“Didn't you ask me not to speak?” he grins, running a hand through his hair. Swiftly, you place your camera on the counter before kneeling down, your thighs now brushing against his own.

“Speak,” you command, and in an instant, he seizes your waist, drawing your body close until you're straddling him, legs enveloping his middle.

“Say it again,” he whispers, and you thread your fingers through the strands of his hair, gently tugging at the edges until his head tilts back, exposing the expanse of his neck.

“I said…” you trail off, leaning in until your nose grazes the warmth of his skin.

Being this close to Hyunjin isn't unfamiliar to you; your interactions have always teetered on the brink of almost-kisses, your bodies drawn together like magnets, two halves of an orange yearning to reunite.

Yet, this moment feels different, much more fateful, as if the universe has granted you one final opportunity—to finally ignite in passion or perish into ash.

“Tell me. I want to know,” you urge, your voice a whisper against his skin, laden with unspoken desires.

“Because... I like you a lot. So much that you're the only one I think of all day. And I want you to like me too. I feel like I need it to breathe.”

His response catches you off guard with its vulnerability, the intimacy it drapes on this moment. The water envelops your intertwined bodies as your hands find solace atop his chest, his rapid heartbeat seeping into your palm.

“I always forget how to breathe around you,” you confess, a sheepish smile gracing your lips. The grin that blooms on his face is radiant, casting a glow on the room that cannot be replicated by artificial lighting.

“If you forget how to breathe, I'll give you all my oxygen,” he promises, his thumb tracing gently across your cheekbones. You see the sun in his smile, feel its warmth in his words that burn you. “I think it always belonged to you anyway,” he murmurs, his lips hovering tantalizingly close to yours. “I think... I wanna give you back what's yours. Would you let me, pretty?” he asks, his voice a tender plea.

And amidst all the planets you know and the countless universes that may exist, you cannot fathom a single one where your answer would be anything but yes.

“Please,” you whisper, and his lips crash against yours in a fervent dance.

Your lips part before swiftly meeting again, and you close your eyes, surrendering to a world where all your senses converge to breathe Hyunjin in—your hands exploring the contours of his chest, your mouth savoring the sweetness of his lips infused with your cherry chapstick, your nose inhaling his scent, a delicate blend of vanilla and tobacco pulling you into a dizzying dance, your ears catching the gentle rhythm of his breaths and the faint thud of his heartbeat, all resonating within you.

And you don't need your eyes to see Hyunjin; he's indelibly etched behind your eyelids from all the time you've spent admiring him before.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he draws back, “I should have kissed you much sooner.”

“Mm?” you grin, intertwining your hands behind his neck, “Was it that good?”

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

“Then show me,” you grin, a playful glint in your eyes.

His gaze sparkles with mischief, his lips curling into a self-assured smirk, his hands finding your waist once more. Breathing is not necessary if it gives you Hyunjin in the end.

“Oh, I will.”

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you get the impression there might be alot of things your boyfriend is holding back on exploring.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, cnc, predator x prey, outside / wood scenes, some rough play, he’s such a tease, minimal prep ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hiiii this idea literally hit me like a brick so i had to get it out my system before i died w it <3 honestly i cut this off a little earlier than originally planned because my brain couldn’t do a whole fic but i hope u guys enjoy regardless :3

you’d enjoyed your day out with gojo as you notice the way the sky around you both has began to darken pretty quickly, but you appreciate the change of scenery— grateful that he’d offered to take you out on a little day trip. he’d insisted he knew a place with a pretty view that was close to one of the school campuses, apparently it was used to host the kyoto sister-school good-will event a few months ago.

that was your destination now as you both walk down the street in that direction, your hand is in his but you still shiver despite the way his palm is warm around yours. his thumb strokes it’s way along your skin as you turn to look at him, it’s an innocent touch as you listen to him talk about his day but the air feels stuffy between you both— your hairs standing on edge before his hand squeezes.

your eyes meet gojo’s as you turn and you notice the way his strays to trail down the pretty line of your throat, sweeping along your figure in you’re pretty dress. his gaze is dark and expectant, but the smirk on his lips looks as pleased as ever as a tinge of anticipation makes you feel suddenly too hot for your skin. still, you smile when you feel his fingers skim from your hand up your arm then across to your lower back, an encouraging sort of touch that urges you to lean in closer.

“you cold?” he asks despite the way he can probably feel the heat running beneath you skin, his hands stroking slowly along your spine as his breathing fans along the shell of your ear. but a shiver still manages to pass through you when he squeezes at your waist.

you let him hold you for a few moments on the side of the street, you’re close to where you’re headed— you can see the tree line break when you turn to your left. you huff and gojo presses his lips to your cheek before he sighs into your ear, his words a low, drawl of a sound as he speaks to you only.

“one, two..”

the electricity that seems to rush through you is enough to make you quiver before you break away from his suddenly loose grip, something in your lower abdomen squeezing as your breathing becomes erratic.

the stride you take is quick as you rush quickly down the side walk, nobody seems to notice your sudden escape from the man’s arms that you looked so comfortable in a moment ago and even if they do— they don’t bother asking. the wind feels warm as it blows through you but you don’t dare look back, you can basically feel the hungry, crystalline gaze on your figure as the rush of adrenaline in your system seems to push you faster.

you can see the entrance to the trees as you make your way towards it, it’s dark but you feel the thrill ignite something in your nerves as you brush by the people still left on the street. your chest feels tight, it’s barely started but your heart is already pounding, beating at your ribs like it’s trying to climb up your throat as you near the outskirts of the campus.

you approach the opening before you allow yourself a quick glance over your shoulder, it’s a momentary look but it’s enough to make something warm shoot down your spine when you notice the looming figure in the crowd. his eyes are still locked in your direction despite the distance, like he can still see you— feel you from so far away as you finally decide to put your adrenaline to good use with your first step into a jog.

but you don’t notice that the figure seems to already have vanished from the crowd by the time you turn back around.

it’s quiet as the forest seems to swallow you whole, leaving you with only your breathing and the sound of your footsteps as you drink up the response that your body seems to have to this, to him. your heart is racing as you run but the air does wonders for your overheating skin, fanning over your features as you push yourself even deeper into the shadows.

you push yourself through a sprouting bush as your head twitches instinctively at a noise to your left and you swear you see it, him— the crystalline blue from his gaze as he stands a few feet away and you gasp, before suddenly it’s gone and you feel the sudden urge to go faster.

“what’s this, hm? aren’t you a cute lil thing.” it’s like an echo the way his low drawl travels through the trees around you, like something haunting as you almost lose your footing. it feels like he’s everywhere at once, deliberately letting himself flash into your peripheral vision— you can hear him in the trees above you, the bushes to your side, in the direction you’re heading towards.

“well, gotta be faster than that. come on, you can do it. don’t wanna make it too easy for me.”

your head twitches slightly before you duck into the heavier oak tree to your right for a breath, you can barely hear anything with the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears — there’s a throb between your thighs, fuelled by the lick of fear that follows before you hear the crunch of the grass behind you.

“oh? thats clever. but you can’t hide forever, don’t go shy on me now.” gojo drawls in the distance, dangerously as you try to suck in quick breathes, feeling your lungs quake with each exhale before you try to catch a glance behind you, eager to know his location— but you need to keep yourself moving.

“lookin’ for me?” you shriek when you snap your head back around to see him already in front of you, hands shoved in his pockets as he tilts his head down at you smugly. it’s like fight or flight the way you go to push past him to set off again but he’s already gone by the time you even blink, leaving you with your heart in your throat and the echo of his chuckle, left to only listen for his next location.

you feel like you’re caught in his web and every movement only tangles you further, but you can’t deny the flicker of lust at the base of your spine that comes with it.

it’s quiet for a few moments except from the rush of your own feet, like you’re being taunted with the taste of an escape, until you hear it— for the first time hear him, his footsteps as you try to steal a look into the darkness behind you that feels like it’s threatening to swallow you entirely.

then that’s when you actually see it, the way gojo’s tall form seems to rip its way from the shadows like he’s finally stopped playing with you — something unhinged and a little wild in his eyes as he gains on you alarmingly quick. he could’ve caught you already, all this time but that’s not fun— your heart is throbbing as you gasp at the sight of him, hearing the heavy footsteps as he sprints after you, the distance he’s closing quickly filling your mind as you make a break into the trees.

“so fast, sweet girl! but did you really think you could get away from me?” he teases from behind you, goading as you realise how close his voice actually sounds. you’ve never run as fast as you’re running right now, every thud from behind you feels like it kicks your legs out from under you but you can’t stop.

but fuck— gojo loves you like this, in your desperate, needy state, you’re like a bunny running from the jaws of a wolf as he watches you twist for an escape, such perfect prey.

you swear you feel his longer fingers reach for you, like the hairs on the back of your neck are standing to attention, atoms drawn into him like you’re above to be snared in a trap— but still so lured in by his touch as he gains on your figure. you almost fumble at the realisation, your feet slipping and giving you a few more seconds— a last ditch effort to escape as you skid on your feet and turn, making a break for the slight opening in the trees, just down by the river.

“hm? oh, well. guess i’ll be a little rough.” you hear gojo chuckle behind you as you keep moving and the sound tempts you into casting a last glance over your shoulder before you realise he’s already there, it only takes him a few strides of his long legs— it’s like he seen that move coming.

you can’t help but scream at the sudden contact of his hand on your skin, instinct telling you to push him away as you try but his grip is tight— pulling you into him before he’s taking you down hard onto the cool grass beneath you. the impact leaves you a little dizzy and disorientated as you both breathe deep, the breath feeling like it’s been knocked out of you as you try to drag yourself away from where he has you pinned between him and the earth, claiming and caging you.

“there we go, that’s better. right where you need t’ be, hm?” gojo’s voice shakes as he speaks to you, so driven by his lust as he watches you struggle beneath him, clawing at the dirt as he presses you down. his breathing comes quick as you feel his hand clamp around your waist — reaching up between your breasts to squeeze his hand around your throat and drag you back the few measly inches you’d escaped until you’re against his chest.

“oh, but you ran so well f’ me, princess. feel what you do to me, hm?” your eyes flutter at the way he presses his clothed cock into you, letting you feel the impressive strain of it through his slacks as he all but ruts you into the dirt beneath you like an animal. you stop struggling at that, collapsing under his weight and suddenly pliant with the hard press of him between your legs, already dripping with the adrenaline that courses through you as your cheek rests against the cool grass.

“p-please, please..” your voice is tight with need as you try to rock your hips back into his, feeling gojo curl his way over you before he’s pulling away entirely to twist you onto your back. that’s when you finally see him, mused and needy— hes flushed, something dark pooling in his usual bright gaze and it makes you gasp as he shoves your dress up your quivering legs, wrapping them around his waist before his huge body is pushing between your thighs to kiss you breathless.

“told you i’d catch you, didn’t i? knew i would, think i was gonna let you go? a sweet lil thing like you?” he’s gone completely as he speaks into the kiss, burying praise and filth between your lips as you squeeze your legs around his waist, grabbing at his snowy roots until he’s groaning against you.

he can’t wait any longer, gojo’s moan is wrecked as he pulls away to mouth at your throat, biting and suckling at the skin as you arch up into him. you’re panting out sweet little pleas, begging for him as he breathes through clenched teeth, tearing so mercilessly at your panties before his pants and belt follow afterwards and you need him so bad you feel tears bead at your lashes.

“aww, you cryin’ f’ me?” he tries to tease but it comes out as more of a breathless croon of a laugh, his cock twitching while your eyes look down to sweep over the thick curve of him. he pushes his chest closer to you, letting your hair tangle in the earth beneath you both as he takes you beneath him.

gojo would normally take his time prepping you, but you’re already a puddle of mewls and whines beneath him, basically begging for him already as he lets his cock tease it’s way through your folds, swiping the head at the slick gathered there as you feel the friction burn and sizzle into something that warms your body from the inside out.

“satoru, please!” you gasp and you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline, the chase or the anticipation that makes it so easy for him to press his way into you but you’re soaked, feeling the first real silky grind of his cock split through your folds before it’s catching on your clit, making you both gasp and moan at the wet tacky sound that follows.

“oh? so greedy f’ me.” the desperate hug of your pussy feels like it pulls him in as you rub your slick along his cock, forcing him closer before he’s finally sinking into your twitching cunt. gojo’s hand fists your hair before he’s shoving your head back so hard your back arches, lapping into your mouth as you tremble and squeeze around him— panting loud in your ears as he hunches over you. “mm, but you’ve got me so hungry f’ you, baby.”

you’re so tight and barely prepped as he drags you along the grass beneath you— feeling his teeth drag along your lower lip as he ruts himself into the warm hug of your walls. every wet withdrawal of his hips is loud but the slap back is even louder as it echoes around the shadows, he’s like a man possessed, completely unhinged as his hips smack so mercilessly into yours it burns, forcing your walls to stretch and mould to him.

you’re already so close gojo can feel it as he presses deep into your body, losing himself in the pleasure he’s earned, the pleasure he owns as he claims his little prize as you claw at his shoulders for any sort of release.

“my sweet girl, ran so hard and all f’ me. you said you could handle it, so ‘ts all mine to take now, right?”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[kenobers]

is this love? | jason todd x sionis!reader

but first free palestine !! You started hooking with Jason Todd, the second eldest Wayne child, so that both of you could royally piss off your father, Roman Sionis. Now that you've accomplished that, you're still hooking up. And spending the night. Frankly, you are quite sure what this is anymore. But you know you like it. tw: Post-sex setting, brief description of sexual activity, reader has a lot of anxiety and was maybe homeschooled as a child, mentions of poor father-daughter relationships, fem!afab!reader a/n: Surprise, I like Jason Todd too. This was inspired by this ask on gliverrwrites' blog! In hindsight, it might've been kinda weird of me, but i couldn't get the concept out of my head. thank you to gliverr and anon! please check out their blog!

There was no greater "Fuck You" you could give your father than the sigh of satisfaction that escaped your lips as your head hit the pillow.

However, Roman Sionis and all his misdeeds had been wiped from your mind in favor of the man panting above you.

You were certain that there was no work of art more beautiful than Jason Todd at this very moment. His green eyes flashed before fluttering shut, no doubt following suit with his head as it rolled back. The shock of white hair had been made curly by sweat and the comb of your fingers. His mouth hung open and uttered a string of praises for you - although the only coherent words you could make out were "good" and "beautiful". Still, they passed like poetry through his lips, which were puffy and delightfully red from contact with your own.

It was so polite of him to let you cum first so you could witness this masterpiece. Even if it was through your own post-Jason haze.

Jason's forehead came to rest on yours as his hips stuttered against yours and an all too familiar warmth coated your thigh. You took the opportunity to brush wet black and white strands of hair out of his handsome face. His eyes peered open again as he caught your hand in his own. For a moment, you expected him to smack it away, but instead he brought your palm to his lips and kissed it.

"My beautiful girl."

Even when he had melted the rest of your naked body into jelly, he still managed to turn your stomach into butterflies.

Now he pressed a kiss between your eyebrows.

"Gimme just one second, baby," he panted before rolling off of you. You sighed again as cool air hit your sticky skin, however, an anxious knot began to form in your stomach as your lover disappeared into the bathroom.

What if he left out the window? What if you never saw him again? What if this was just a one time thing to get back at your father for the countless number of things he'd done to Jason's family?

But it would be incredibly silly if he did all this just to leave you in his apartment, especially considering this was far from the first time you'd slept together. Besides, wasn't the should-be-enemies-with-benefits what you had wanted this whole time?

You turned on your side to watch him in the bathroom, subconsciously rubbing the slick between your thighs together. Jason swore as his toe collided with something. You giggled as you realized it was his Red Hood mask, the gleaming metal winking at you in the yellow light.

Jason glanced over his broad shoulder and grinned at the sound of your giggles. He brushed his sticky hair back, giving you a prime view of his sharp canine. You shivered thinking about the mark it had left on your neck earlier. He turned the faucet on and ran something under it, then turned back to you, flicking the bathroom light off.

He really was an imposing man, you noted. 6'2 and built like an ox. To you, he looked like a statue with the way the moonlight streaming though the window illuminated his bare hip and ribs, painting them a comforting shade of blue. If he hadn't just fucked you silly, you would've imagined how scary he must be to a criminal in a dark alley.

The bed dipped as your statue sat beside you. He gently rolled you back onto your back, then began rubbing your thighs down with a warm washcloth.

"You feeling alright, doll?"

He must've asked that a handful of times while he had your legs hooked over his shoulder. You couldn't recall a time when anyone else had checked in with you during or after sex.

You nodded, only to have your words replaced with a sharp hiss as the washcloth brushed over your still sensitive pussy. The administrations stopped abruptly.

"Sorry, baby," Jason apologized, although he couldn't hide the amusement on his face. "I'll be gentler next time."

You snorted, "don't go making threats now."

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss you. Heat rose to your face as you tasted yourself on his soft lips. You let out a whine when he parted and rose again.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm comin' back. Hold your horses, lady," he teased, waving his hand dismissively. You rolled your eyes playfully. Like he had any room to judge someone for their dramatics.

He wiped himself down with the washcloth before dropping it in his hamper, where your torn panties hung over the side. He'd promised to buy you a much more expensive pair to make up for it. He pulled on a fresh pair of boxes and tossed you a pair.

You sat up and just as you had wriggled them over your hips, Jason was ready with one of his t-shirts. You put your arms up and let him slid the worn fabric over your torso - not missing the way his eyes stopped to admire the way Black Canary's logo looked over your bare chest.

"You sure you're alright? You're so quiet," Jason asked, sliding in next to you. You laid back, resting your head against his chest as you breathed in the lingering scent of sex, leather and aftershave. His skin was soft beneath your finger tips, their smooth path only interrupted by a patch of hair or a scar.

You remembered the first time you'd hooked up with him, before you had accidentally caught him with the Red Hood mask. You assumed the autopsy scars were some sort of dark humor tattoo. You told yourself you couldn't catch feelings for a guy with a weird ass tattoo like that.

And now you were still in his bed. Wearing his shirt. And his underwear. Knowing his secret identity. With plans to get breakfast in the morning.

At what point had this gone beyond simply pissing off Roman Sionis? Both you and Jason had just wanted to get back at your father by fucking in his warehouses. But now you had your own space on his bathroom counter. You were staying the night after sex. You whined when he pulled away from you.

Above all else, he was so kind to you. But beneath the sarcasm and snark, he had been kind from the get-go. It was you that had acted like a rotten, spoiled brat. The more time you spent with him, the softer you got.

Jason squeezed your shoulder lightly, murmuring your name. You looked up at him dumbly. His brows were furrowed in concern as he ran the tip of his finger over your cheekbone.

"What's the matter, bub?"

You shook your head.

"'m just tired. And lost in thought, I guess."

"Oh?" He hummed, brushing your jawline. "Whatcha thinkin' about, pretty girl."

You pretended to think for a moment.

"Hmm, just about how tired I am. Ya really know how to wear a woman out, Todd."

"Well, if I recall correctly, you said-"

"I know what I said!" you cut him off with a mock defensiveness, pretending to smack his chest as he snickered. Once more, he covered your hand with his own large one, this time pressing it to his heart.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other's touch. You started to wonder if this is what love felt like; safe and warm and blissed out. You tried to push the thought out of your mind.

"Seriously though," Jason said, his voice low. "Did I go too far tonight? Are you actually okay?"

If you had been anyone else's daughter, you were certain that you would've started crying.

"I'm...I was just thinking..." you took a breath. In your defense, this kind of tender-love-and-care wasn't in your DNA. "I'm just...I'm lucky to have you, Jaybird."

"This isn't about to be a 'but comma' statement, is it?"

"A 'butt comma'?"

"Yeah, you know, 'you're great and all, but..."

You shot straight up, now hovering over him anxiously.

"Oh God, no!" You said, your eyes the size of saucers as you shook your head. Oh Lord, if he couldn't already tell you were emotionally unstable. You fell back on your heels, ringing your hands nervously. "Unless you want it to be..."

Now Jason sat up, taking both of your hands in his, running his thumbs over your knuckles.

"No, no, pretty girl. I don't want that."

There was no malice behind his green eyes. No mocking tweak in his slit eyebrow. No violence in his grip.

You sighed in relief and allowed Jason to lay you back down. He wrapped his thick arms around your waist and pulled you into him. You were thankful for the way he tucked your head into the crook of his neck, hiding your embarrassment at the emotional outburst.

Jason kissed the top of your head, "actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to come to the Manor with me on Sunday. Family dinner stuff."

You peered up at him, "Would I be, y'know, welcomed there?"

"Of course," he promised. "Look, if there's any group of fuckers that can empathize with daddy issues, it's these fuckers. Damian'll probably give you shit, but you could've been birthed by the Pope and he would give you shit. But he knows you're cool."

"And Mr. Wayne?"

Jason chuckled, sending a soft vibration through you as his dark chest hair tickled your cheek.

"Believe it or not, it was B's idea to invite you. I think he's curious."

"Probably want to vet me," you grumbled, half joking, half painfully serious.

He laughed again, "baby, if Bruce had reason to be suspicious of you, he would've launched and concluded an investigation by now. He knows you're not your dad. I know I talk my shit about him, but trust me, he gets it."

You were about to ask if Batman had been keeping tabs on you when Jason continued.

"Plus, you know," he shrugged. "He knows you make me happy."

Oh, your heart stopped for a second.

Oh, that wasn't a bad thing.

Jason wanted to take you to dinner with his family. Not because he was a Wayne and you were a Sionis and the situation was inherently funny (and bound to set your old man off). But because you made him happy.

And fuck it, he made you happy too.

That might be love, actually.

"Well, if you insist," you nestled closer to him. "Then it's a date."

[pucksandpower]

Use Your Words

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lando Norris

Summary: in which your boyfriends show you that there’s no shame in using your safeword

Warnings: 18+ content and use of a safeword

Based on @uramakimochi’s request

Note: the fact that I literally manifested the Charlando podium while writing this? I wish team orders didn’t play such a big role during the race but I will take the results and not look a gift horse in the mouth 🫶

Charles and Lando are both rummaging through their suitcases, looking for neckties as you wait on the bed. After their double podium finish earlier today, the three of you decided to have a little private celebration back at the hotel.

“Found one!” Charles holds up a red silk tie with a mischievous grin.

Lando chuckles, pulling out a striped tie in shades of blue. “This’ll do the trick.”

You bite your lip in anticipation as they approach you with the neckties. Charles slips behind you, gently gathering your wrists and using the tie to secure them together. You shiver at his warm breath on your neck as he works.

“Too tight?” He whispers. You shake your head slightly, unable to hide your smile.

Lando kneels in front of you, looping his tie into a makeshift blindfold and carefully covering your eyes. “Can you see anything?”

“No,” you murmur, plunged into comforting darkness. Your senses sharpen, focused on the sounds of their movements and the occasional brush of fingers against your skin.

“Perfect,” Lando’s voice is low. You feel the bed shift as he rises. “We’re going to take such good care of you tonight, princess.”

A thrill runs through you. The three of you agreed on a safeword when you first started seeing each other, a sure fire way to get any driver’s attention and slow things down. But tonight you have zero intention of using it.

Charles’ lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear. “You looked so gorgeous standing below the podium, vibrating with pride. I could hardly keep my hands off you.”

You let out a shaky breath as his mouth blazes a trail down the side of your neck. “Ch-Charles ...”

“Shhh,” he soothes, nipping at your pulse point. “No need for words yet.”

Lando’s hands glide over your thighs, pushing them gently apart. You automatically part your lips in a soft gasp. Fingertips tease along your inner thighs, drawing maddeningly close before retreating.

“So responsive,” Lando marvels. You can’t see him but you know he’s grinning. “I haven’t even properly touched you yet and you’re already squirming.”

Your cheeks flush hot. You want to retort but all that comes out is a quiet whine as Lando’s fingers finally make contact. He chuckles darkly at your reaction.

Charles slips one hand beneath the loose hem of your top, palm skating over your ribs and up to cup your breast. You arch into his touch with a small moan. His thumb brushes over your nipple, adding delicious friction through the thin fabric of your bra.

“So beautiful,” he rumbles in approval. “The way your body sings for us ...”

His mouth finds yours, tongue instantly seeking entrance that you grant with a whimper. The kiss is deep and hungry, leaving you dizzy and panting when he finally releases your lips.

Lando’s long fingers have been steadily working between your thighs, stroking and teasing your increasingly slick folds. You buck your hips without meaning to, desperate for more substantial contact.

“Please,” you finally manage to beg. Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Patience, darling,” Lando tuts, though his own breathing is growing ragged. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder for better access, leaning in to lick a broad stripe right through your heated center.

You cry out sharply, tugging instinctively at the tie binding your wrists. The heat of Lando’s mouth and the soft lap of his tongue are glorious torment. Charles smothers your keening noises with another searing kiss.

Lando groans his appreciation against your tender flesh, lapping and sucking insistently. “You taste so fucking good,” he growls. “Been dreaming about this all day ...”

Arousal is throbbing through you like a second heartbeat. Charles’ lips abandon yours to trail down your throat, his other hand cupping your breast and rolling the nipple between his fingertips. Every nerve is exquisitely alive, buzzing beneath their skilled touches.

Lando’s tongue flicks over your throbbing clit and your back arches off the bed. Your loud mewl is half pleasure, half plea. He grants you no reprieve, mouth working enthusiastically to take you apart piece by piece. Charles captures your lips again, stealing the cries from your throat.

You’re quickly soaring higher, spiraling toward that glorious precipice. Their murmured praises and scorching caresses urge you ever onward. But just when you think you’re about to tumble over the edge, Lando’s mouth abandons you entirely.

You nearly sob at the loss, hips frantically chasing that delicious friction. Charles soothes you with gentler kisses, murmuring praise against your swollen lips. “So good for us, mon ange. You’re doing beautifully.”

You dimly feel the bed shift again, and then there’s a warm mouth trailing kisses up your inner thigh. Charles, blessing you with more delicious stimulation. But just when you think he’s going to grant you relief, Lando’s seeking lips find your other thigh.

“No, no please,” you beg between panting breaths. If they keep denying you for much longer, you’ll go mad. There’s a soft tsking noise and you feel Lando’s fingers combing through your hair. Charles continues lavishing attention on your shuddering flesh.

“Use your words,” Lando murmurs huskily. “What do you need, love?”

You swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry. “Please just … I need ...”

“Tell us, mon amour,” Charles prompts, lips brushing your hipbone.

There’s really only one way to circumvent this maddening tease. You suck in a breath, steadying yourself.

“Box,” you force out. “Box box box.”

All movement instantly stills. Your heart is thundering a rapid staccato, waiting with bated breath for them to respond to the agreed safeword. You bite your lip, instantly second guessing your decision.

Fingers stroke along your cheeks, Lando’s touch infinitely gentle. “Sweetheart,” his normally playful voice is low and soothing, all traces of teasing vanished. “Are you hurting? Do you need to stop?”

You shake your head minutely, abruptly blinking back unexpected tears of frustration behind the blindfold. “No no, I just … please can I just ...”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Lando hushes you. His lips lightly brush your forehead. “Take a deep breath, pretty girl.”

You obey, inhaling shakily through your nose. Charles presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek.

“Talk to us,” he urges softly. “Don’t be afraid to voice your needs.”

“I w-want ...” you stammer, toes curling. “I need you both so badly, please. No more teasing. I just want you to make me come.”

There’s a pause, and for a heart-stopping moment you fear you’ve ruined the mood entirely. But then Lando lets out a low groan of relief.

“Look at you using your words so prettily,” he praises. Charles chuckles softly beside you, nuzzling against your jaw. You feel the bed shift again as Lando moves into position.

“We would never deny you, love,” he murmurs. “Not when you ask so sweetly.”

His long fingers slide home, curling and plunging into your dripping heat. You cry out at the sudden stretch and glorious pressure. Charles lays claim to your mouth again, greedily swallowing your moans.

Lando’s palm fits perfectly against your bundle of nerves, grinding in time with the thrust of his fingers. The spark of pleasure races through you, building and spiraling rapidly higher. Distantly you hear your own broken whimpers bleeding into Charles’ mouth.

“That’s it, ma belle,” he growls, lips trailing over your cheeks and throat. “Let us hear how good we make you feel.”

Lando curls his fingers, nailing that sublime spot inside you over and over until you begin to shake apart. Your cries rise to a sobbing keen, back arched taut as a bowstring.

“Come for us, darling.” Lando’s command is heated, fingers sinking deep. “Let go.”

You shatter with a high wail, rapture cascading through you in scorching waves. Lando strokes you through it, coaxing every last spasm of bliss with his touch until you finally slump boneless against the mattress.

Strong arms envelop you, tucking you securely against dual heartbeats. Gentle fingers trace your features, brushing away the dampness beneath your blindfold. You’re surrounded with warmth and adoration, coddled by their praise.

“Belle fille,” Charles murmurs, lips finding your temple.

“So perfect,” Lando echoes, stroking back sweat-dampened strands of hair. “Our good girl ...”

You sigh in utter contentment, letting their cherished words soak into your very bones. No matter what heights you reach, they’ll always be there to catch you in their arms.

[crimsntwlip]

"i said i love the smiths" | pt. 2

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

warnings: slow burn, readers status not mentioned, reader is a slytherin

summary: after that little interaction that happened between you and mattheo, he starts to notice you more.

a/n: ¿i think i might turn this into a chapter fic? if this does well.. please Imk your thoughts !!

masterlist I posted: 11/22/23 | part 1

a few days had passed since the little gathering in slytherin. mattheo was currently sitting in potions class next to theodore, quietly dozing off into his own little world while snape’s monotonous words bore him to death.

his mind drifted to her, thinking back to the little interaction they had during the party and how quickly he wanted to get to know more of her. during those few days that had passed, mattheo was consumed by thoughts of (y/n). he had become more aware of you; previously, he had not even known your name or acknowledged your presence in the classes you both shared, something he had not realized until recently.

he had his eyes fixed on the back of your head without realizing it. snape on the other hand, clearly noticed the distracted gaze mattheo had, quickly calling him out for it.

“mister riddle!” he exclaimed loudly, making him jump slightly in embarrassment as everyone turned their heads towards him, including yours as he immediately looked up at snape as he noticed that you had turned around to face the boy while he was being scolded.

snape deadpanned, "i see you're paying much attention." he scowled, "what negative effects could peppermint potion have?" he gave the instruction, causing mattheo to cast a sidelong glance in theodore’s direction, who appeared amused by the scenario.

he turned his gaze back towards the professor, “uh.. well..” he dragged, clearing his throat before continuing, “that would be uh steam coming from the ears?” he answered which sounded more of a question.

(y/n) noticed the confused tone in his voice, making her snicker quietly but quickly dying down when snape snapped his head towards her, making her feel small as she sunk into her seat. mattheo grinned at her but quickly wiped it off as snape turned back towards him. “correct.” he revealed sternly.

“now if you care to pay attention this time.” he requested, giving mattheo a determined look. theodore nudged him in his rib, smirking as mattheo simply narrowed his eyes at him before turning back towards the lesson, glancing at (y/n) here and there.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

(y/n) felt a small shove, she furrowed her brows as her two bestfriends filled the empty seats next to her at the dining table. "i heard what happened in potions," elenoise commented as she began to load her plate with goods. she glanced at a puzzled (y/n). “what do you mean?” (y/n) asked, recalling back to earlier, you thought nothing particular happened.

“you really don’t know?” elenoise asked as she began stuffing her mouth, (y/n) shook her head at the girl, as she began to grow curious. “a certain slytherin was scolded for staring at you the entire lesson!” augusta chimed in, wiggling her eyebrows at you with a grin. “me?” you asked, you felt a slight blush creep up, the two girls nod at you.

“actually,” augusta muttered, she moved her gaze away and looked across the table, not that far away from you guys was mattheo who sitting with his friends as his attention was fixated towards you. “he’s looking at you right now!” augusta smirked, you follow her gaze, immediately making eye contact with mattheo.

as you made eye contact with him, almost immediately did he look away. his ears turning red from embarrassment of being caught as he tried avoiding your stare, turning his attention back to his friends. your friends start laughing, holding onto your shoulders for support as they held their stomach. you though, stayed quiet as you continue blushing, looking down at your food as your friends continued to tease you about this.

“okay.. thats enough..” you whined, feeling flustered as your friends teased you. you glanced back up at him, revealing once again his gaze on you. you gave him a gentle smile back before turning your attention back to your friends.

thoughts of befriending riddle came across your mind, his small gestures lingering on your mind. maybe, you thought, he isn’t like the others.

mattheo noticed the smile you returned, maybe, just maybe did he have a chance.

taglist: @hisparentsgallerryy

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was certain Maverick didn't intend to stress him out when he said you and he were the spitting image of Goose and Carole. But suddenly, for better or for worse, it was all he could think about. There is so much to look forward to with you in his life, but now he has to break the worst kind of news to you.

Warnings: Fluff, oral sex, smut, angst, adult banter, Bradley in love, 18+

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley couldn't seem to stop grinning. Playing the part of tour guide for your class was a pleasure. The kids made fun of Jake, which was honestly lovely, and everyone got to experience different aspects of aviation, not just flying. You even made Cyclone smile, so you'd done the impossible there. Bradley had a grin on his face for the rest of the afternoon, and Nat kept ribbing him about it.

"Are the two of you going to get married and have eighteen kids?" she asked, feigning innocence like nobody else could.

"I know you're joking," he replied as he cleaned up and organized all of the noise canceling headphones. "You know how I know? Because you know how much money I make. I could never afford eighteen kids. It's gotta be like fifteen, tops."

"You never ever even joked about having a child before!" she said, tone accusatory.

Talking about you and thinking about you made him feel calm where no relationship he'd had in the past ever really did. "Come on, Nat. You know I'm serious about this one." 

She laughed in response. "Being in love for once instead of just settling for someone to keep you company looks good on you. It's about time you stopped fucking up." He planted his hand on top of her head, scrunched his fingers, and messed up her hair. "Stop it!" she screeched as he ran away across the tarmac as fast as he could and into the hangar where he found Marty.

Bradley peeked around to make sure she hadn't followed him as he made a beeline toward the mechanic. "Hey, I can't thank you enough for today," he told Marty, shaking his calloused hand.

"It was fun," he replied. "Some of those kids are future aviators, I'm telling you."

"Violet," they both said at the same time and started laughing.

"And Oliver is a bit of a daredevil," Bradley added as he helped Marty pack up his work station. "They've been learning about aviation for months, and I know today meant a lot to them."

Marty looked a little pensive before he nodded at Bradley. "You know what," he said in response as he locked his toolbox, "go ahead and tell your girlfriend that I'll be there for her career day as long as I'm not deployed."

Bradley cocked his head. "Career day. Right. I'll let her know." 

He had no idea what Marty was talking about, but it was just about time for him to head out for the day. By the time he got home from work, you'd probably be on your way back down from Mira Mesa. His thoughts were circling around Maverick's words from earlier. If he was reminded of Goose and Carole when he looked at Bradley with you, then no wonder this felt like the real deal. It must be just that.

But he was in his head now. He was desperate to keep you, because he knew all too well what loneliness felt like, but he couldn't stand the thought of you worrying about him. And the idea of anything happening to him while he was away from you was too much to handle. He rubbed his eyes as he walked to his Bronco. Being compared to his parents felt like a blessing and a curse.

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

The evenings were getting chilly this time of year, but you changed into the dress you wore on your first date with Bradley as soon as you got home. Then you quickly packed an overnight bag. Driving to work from his house tomorrow would be a true test. Nothing was going to be a complete deal breaker for you at this point, but you hoped it didn't leave you in tears of frustration. Or have Bradley trying to scramble to find a way to try to make you happy when you already were.

Your plan for the evening was to pick up some Thai food from the place he loved on your way to his house. When you texted Bradley to let him know you were leaving your place soon and that you hoped he was hungry, he wrote back one sentence.

All I want is you.

Every time you thought it would be impossible for him to continue to set off the butterflies in your tummy, he did it again. Your face felt warm, and you ran your palm along your cheek as you thought about every little detail of the field trip while you drove. He didn't just love you, he appreciated your job and your students. Your ex didn't even let you talk about them. Bradley let them rank the cafeteria foods at the Naval base. He got Marty to give a demonstration. He got permission for them to sit in his jet and assist with air traffic control!

You moaned as you wove through traffic to get there. All I want is you. Well fuck, all you wanted was him. Your feelings outweighed the amount of time you'd known him, but you couldn't seem to make yourself pump the brakes now. When you stopped to pick up dinner, you thought back to your first date with Bradley. It wasn't very long ago, but it felt like so much had happened since then. It felt like even more had happened since he responded to your first letter. In such a short amount of time, you had fallen in love.

Your skin was tingling with anticipation as you parked in front of his house. Hadn't you been with him just a few hours ago? Why did you feel the need to run for the front door with the Thai food? Why did your heart skip a beat when Bradley opened the door in his sweatshirt and gray sweatpants and met you on the front porch before you even had a chance to knock?

"Gorgeous," he breathed against your cheek, holding you close as you tried not to squish the bag containing dinner. Then he pulled his shirt off, leaving him in a tee, and tugged it over your head. His mustache tickled your skin as he leaned in and whispered, "You look too good in my sweatshirt. You look like you're mine."

Your belly swooped as you promised, "I absolutely am."

"Fuck."

You laughed as you handed the bag to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. "Give me a minute to kiss you the way I wanted to earlier, and then we're having a picnic dinner."

Bradley started to respond with one eyebrow raised, but you didn't let him get a word out as your lips met his. He deepened the kiss immediately, and you sighed; this was how you always wanted him. You appreciated that he held back earlier, but right now, you wanted him all to yourself.

"Thank you for today," you murmured between kisses as his hand slid lower along your back. "You're the hero of Mira Mesa Elementary, and I wanted to treat you to dinner on behalf of my class."

His cheeks were a little rosy as he pulled away a bit more. "You don't have to thank me for anything. You know that. I'm happy to do anything you want."

"Stop," you whispered, burying your face against his neck. "A girl can only handle so much. Let's go eat dinner down on the beach, and maybe there will be an additional little something special for you."

You were tugging on his arm, fingers gripping his thick bicep, but he didn't budge an inch. "I'm in sweats and a tee shirt. Should I change?"

"Why?" you asked, still tugging. "You look hot."

His blush deepened. "But you're wearing your dress and my sweatshirt. And I was kind of interested in snuggling on the couch."

"Let's go," you repeated, and he took a few steps toward your car with the bag of food in his hand. "We can come back and snuggle on the couch later."

While he agreed, he didn't seem to want to let you go. His hand was on yours while you drove the few blocks to the beach, and he wrapped his arm around you as you pulled an oversized beach towel out of your trunk along with a blanket. 

"Baby, it'll get chilly as soon as the sun sets."

"I'll keep you warm," you promised, running your fingers along his bare arm before taking his hand. He was quiet as the two of you walked down from the parking lot to the sand, and when you looked up at him as the warm, orange light illuminated his face as the sun sank low in the sky, he seemed contemplative. "What's wrong?" you asked, heart skipping a beat as you stopped in front of him so he was looking at you.

Bradley's gaze was soft as he met your eyes. "Nothing's wrong. I'm with you." 

But even as the two of you ate dinner together, he pulled you snug next to his side like he was afraid you were going to go somewhere. You took a bite of the Pad Thai and then said, "I wish I thought to bring some Prosecco," but you only got a little grunt in response. "Bradley," you snapped, reaching for his chin and turning his head gently so he was facing you. "You weren't like this earlier during the field trip. You're acting strange. Do you want me to go home?"

"No," he replied with wide eyes, wrapping one big hand around your thigh and kissing your forehead. "I don't want you to go anywhere without me." With a sigh, he added, "I'm sorry. I just... got in my own head about us."

"Us?" you asked immediately, scrambling to try to figure out what you could have possibly done wrong. The whole day was perfect, and now you felt yourself trying to pull away from his grasp.

"No," he insisted once more as the air grew cooler. The sky was more dark blue than orange now, and Bradley was silent for a beat before he said, "Maverick... Captain Mitchell... you met him earlier..." When you nodded, he kissed your forehead and said, "He was my dad's friend. They flew together. Maverick knew him well."

Your boyfriend's parents had been gone for a long time. "Oh," you gasped. If you'd known that earlier, you'd have taken more time to get to know Captain Mitchell.

Before you could dwell on it too much, Bradley whispered, "I think about you all the time, Gorgeous. I think about fucking you on my couch and feeding you breakfast. I think about taking you back to Salvatore's for every special occasion. I think about your letters and your pretty face and diamond rings. And the future."

His words were warm and intentional, and you shivered even as he pulled you closer. "Bradley," you said so softly, you could barely hear yourself. "I think about all of that, too."

Some of the tension seemed to melt away from his body as you ran your fingers through his hair. His lips skimmed along yours as he said, "Maverick told me I reminded him of my dad today. And that you reminded him of my mom. This is all because he can tell how head over heels I am for you. Just like my parents were for each other."

Everything he said was too dreamy. When you tried to take a deep breath, it hitched in your throat. "I don't understand what the problem is, Bradley. I feel the same way about you."

His gaze was fixed on the water as he held you and said, "My dad left my mom and I alone. The last thing I ever want to do is leave you."

A smile found your lips as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Is this why you're being weird and clingy at the same time?"

When he looked at you he laughed. "I guess. I'm sorry."

"Bradley," you whispered, kissing his mustache and reaching for the blanket to cover both of you. "I've spent months falling in love with you in spite of your job. Or maybe because of it. Or maybe just because there was no holding back. I've thought about the risks, and you are worth it. I'm sure your mom felt the same way about your dad."

He pulled you down on top of him, dinner forgotten, and kissed you with one heavy hand still on the back of your thigh. "As long as you've accepted the risks, Gorgeous." His fingers slid up a few inches as he added, "Today was incredibly fun for me, and I'm happy your kids had a good time. I'm already looking forward to visiting your school again if you want me there."

"Oh," you whispered, placing a soft kiss to his scars. "That reminds me. Career day is coming up in a few months. You'll definitely need to be there for that."

Bradley grunted and gave you a little smack on your rear end that made you gasp in delight. "See, you're telling me about this now, but I already heard about career day from Marty."

Your fingers on his bicep tightened as you tried not to moan. "I just got excited earlier," you whispered. "I promise I was going to tell you."

"Hmm... so Marty and the other aviators are more interesting than I am. I understand, Gorgeous."

His voice was teasing, and he seemed a lot more at ease now as that big hand gripped and grabbed at you under the blanket. When you shifted slightly, you could feel him through his gray sweatpants. He was a little eager, but so were you now. His occasional need to hear you reaffirm your feelings for him was something you'd always be happy to indulge.

"Will you let me prove to you that you're the most interesting? My very favorite Naval officer?"

"What do you have in mind?"

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

The first few stars were glittering to life in the sky as the horizon continued to darken from orange to purple to blue. Bradley lounged back on the oversized beach towel with one arm tucked behind his head and enjoyed the sight. It was beautiful. So was the sound of you softly gagging on his cock.

"God damn," he muttered, fingers stroking the back of your neck as he squeezed his eyes closed and focused on the feel of your mouth slowly gliding along his shaft until he was deep once again. The air was cool on his overheated skin, and the breeze was probably enough to keep anyone else from visiting this secluded stretch of beach while you treated him to your lips and tongue.

When you gagged again, he saw stars prettier than the ones in the sky, and he could feel your saliva drip down to his balls before you lapped at them as well. He half expected to see the front of his sweatpants all damp by the time you were done. He was really looking forward to it. And it wouldn't be much longer now as you sucked on his balls and pumped your fist around him nice and slow.

Your voice was light as air when you released him and playfully asked, "Do you believe you're my favorite?"

Bradley glanced down where he could see the outline of your body and his hard cock hanging out of his pants. "Baby, I would believe anything you told me right now," he muttered, delighting in your laughter.

"You're my favorite," you said before kissing his tip and sinking those pretty lips around him once again. Your grip was firm as you sucked, and it wasn't long before Bradley was grunting and trying not to grab you too tight with his fingers. 

You were giving him head on the beach, and it was so damn hot, but you were still his sweet girlfriend. He just wanted to make you happy, and when he came, you moaned in delight until he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. Then your lips were on his, and he could taste both of you there. "You're my favorite," you repeated, reaching down to carefully pull his sweatpants up while he head spun.

He groaned and wrapped his arm around your waist. "If this was your ploy to get me to agree to career day, it definitely worked. But you know I would have said yes no matter what."

Your lips were on his ear as you laughed. "Can we go home and get warmed up in the shower?"

Home. You belonged there with him. He knew it. You knew it too, even if only subconsciously. "Yeah, let's go home."

On Friday, he woke up earlier than usual to make sure you were awake in time to get to work. He packed you a lunch, grimaced when he checked the traffic on his phone and said, "I'll pay for your gas."

"I don't need you to pay for my gas, Bradley!" you insisted.

One look at your pretty face had him shaking his head. "Traffic is a nightmare. What's it going to take to get you to come back here again tonight?" he asked, handing you a mug of coffee. "Because I honestly don't mind paying a little extra in gas money to make up for the fact that I bought a house in Coronado."

You bit your lip and then asked, "How do you not understand that being with you is going to be worth the drive?"

"Save your verdict for after you've actually driven through rush hour."

He was delighted when you returned right after work for the weekend. And Saturday morning, you slept in while Bradley went for a run with Nat. He kissed you goodbye and watched you roll over onto his pillow with a soft smile on your lips. Six miles in and he was getting antsy to get back to make you breakfast.

"Are you two coming to the bar tonight?" Nat asked, huffing as she tried to speak and run at the same time.

He grunted in response. You hadn't been to the Hard Deck yet, and he wasn't sure he felt like sharing you with everyone else this evening. "Maybe."

Nat rolled her eyes. "Just bring her. You've been MIA for weeks and weeks since you got back. You can stare longingly at her while other people are around for a few hours."

"I'll ask how she feels about it."

But he should have known you'd want to go as soon as he mentioned it to you in the shower after breakfast. "I didn't bring anything cute to wear," you complained with a little pout.

"Baby, you could wear one of my ratty old shirts with your jeans, and you'd be the cutest thing in the place."

A smile curved along your lips, and that's exactly what you ended up wearing. Your snug jeans only looked sexier on you when paired with one of his soft tee shirts from his college days, which you tied in a little knot at the hem. He could see a peek of your skin here and there as you finished getting ready that evening, and he couldn't keep his hands off you. When the two of you arrived at the Hard Deck, he knew he was going to have to keep you close by.

"What do you want to drink?" he asked, tucking his fingers around your waist as Jake Seresin himself eyed you up. "The only thing I can promise is that the wine here sucks compared to Salvatore's."

But you were oblivious as you looked around the interior of the bar as you caught a few more gazes. He didn't love these horny guys all checking you out like the piece of fresh meat you really were. "How about a beer then?" you asked, scanning everything that Penny had on tap and pointing to your favorite.

"Solid choice," he replied, ordering two from Jimmy. And then all too soon, you were the one pulling him toward the pool table and Natasha.

"Well, well, well," Jake drawled, setting down his empty bottle and tossing a dart repeatedly up into the air with his gaze glued on you. "What do we have here, Bradshaw?"

"This is my girlfriend," he replied immediately. "Don't get any ideas."

You cleared your throat, stuck out your hand, and told Jake your name. He reached for you with a smile and didn't let go. "You must be the teacher from the field trip the other day. I'm Jake. But if you'd prefer to use my call sign, it's Hungman. I mean Hangman. Looks like Baby on Board was right."

"Right about what?" Bradley asked, eyes darting to where Bob was blushing profusely with a pool cue in his hand.

Jake chuckled. "Nothing I can say in front of mixed company."

"Oh!" you said, pulling your hand free and pointing at Jake while you took a sip of your beer. Bradley felt the need to protect you, but you didn't really need him to at all as you smirked and said, "Hangman. Right. You're the guy with the dumb call sign. My students were still talking about it yesterday."

Bradley started laughing at the sour look on Jake's face. After that, you had some very pleasant conversations with Javy, Mickey and Reuben, even though he could see their eyes dip down to your chest on occasion. It wasn't really their fault that you were beautiful, so he let it slide while he played pool with Nat. Eventually you joined in with him, and you insisted on buying the next two beers plus another drink for his best friend.

"I'll be right back," you told him, playfully backing away toward the bar with a smile, and Bradley watched you the entire time you were gone.

"You are a mess," Nat informed him as if he didn't already know that.

He shook his head. "I just know the day is going to come when I'm not around to physically be with her. And you'll be the one inviting her out to the bar while I'm eating soggy cabbage rolls on an aircraft carrier. So I need to set the precedent now. She's with me, and all of these assholes we work with can keep their hands to themselves where she is concerned."

"You were never this up tight when you brought Vanessa here."

His ex's name always sounded startling now when it rattled around in his head. "She was mean," he said easily. "Nobody wanted to talk to her even though she was pretty." But Bradley honestly never did feel this way about her or anyone else before you. Watching you pay Jimmy with a smile on your face before turning and meeting his eyes was enough to send him walking halfway to meet you.

Bradley took one of the drinks from your hands and leaned down to give you a nice, long kiss with tongue. Was he marking his territory? Sure. Was he also letting you know he was ready to get you alone again whenever you wanted to leave? Absolutely. Was he also just such a mess he couldn't help but touch you? A hundred percent.

It wasn't long before you suggested calling it a night.

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

Bradley was deep inside you, one big hand pinning your wrists above your head on his pillow. His fingers were trailing down your skin as he fucked you a little harder, and you let him talk and ramble to his heart's content while he brought you closer to where you wanted to be.

"You're perfect," he crooned, hazy gaze focused on your face. "Tell me, Baby, please. I need to know." He kissed along your neck, tongue darting out to taste the sheen of sweat. "Please."

"What?" you gasped, barely able to talk at all as his fingers settled on your clit.

You thought maybe he gave up trying to communicate right now, but then he licked his lips and said, "Give me a date. Please. Give me a date when you're going to move in." But he was stroking you just right, and your only response was a gasp before you were chanting his name.

His lips settled on yours as you came for him, clenching around his cock until he spilled himself inside you. His kisses were rough before turning sweet, and soon he was softly teasing your lips as he muttered, "You gonna tell me?"

It took you a second to push through the fog as your orgasm tapered off, and you smiled. "I thought you weren't in a hurry. Just in love." His cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink as he ducked his head, but you'd already been giving it a lot of thought. When he started to shift, you whispered, "January twentieth."

He froze again and met your eyes. "Yeah? Seriously?"

"Seriously."

His hands were cupping your face while he stayed buried inside you. "Gorgeous, you just made my whole fucking day."

Within the hour, he had the date saved in his phone calendar, and you were on his lap on the couch eating popcorn. "We've got time, but I'll help you pack beforehand and move everything. Javy has a truck, so I'll make sure we can use that. You could always start moving some things before that if you wanted to."

You popped a kernel between his lips and asked, "You just really wanted a date to look forward to?"

"So bad," he replied with a grin. "I can't wait to have my professional spider hunter around all the time."

"You're ridiculous," you told him with a grin of your own. You yawned, exhausted in the early hours of Sunday morning. "I need some sleep or else I'll be dead on my feet at work this week. You need to show me that you can be well behaved and let me rest even after I've moved in with you."

"On it," he replied, dumping the remainder of the popcorn into his mouth before scooping you up and heading for the bathroom to get ready for bed.

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

Bradley smiled as he ate some macaroni and cheese in the cafeteria later that week. He had two new dates saved in his phone calendar. The day you would be moving in with him and the date for career day at your school. He couldn't wait. He was admiring the calendar entries when his phone alerted him to a new email. It was oddly enough from your school account.

Dear Lieutenant Bradshaw,

We just wanted to reach out and thank you again for taking us on a tour of North Island. Our lessons about aviation were brought to life. It was the educational opportunity of a lifetime, and we also had so much fun on the field trip. Our classroom door is always open anytime you want to visit.

Sincerely,

Your nineteen pen pals

Immediately after he finished reading, he noticed he had another email. From your personal account this time.

Did you know there are just thirty-five days until I move to Coronado?

Attached was a photo of you holding up three fingers and five fingers in front of your naked tits, and Bradley almost dropped his phone. He could see everything, just like you probably intended, but he had to close out of the image as Maverick approached him with a frown.

"We need to talk."

Bradley's brow furrowed. "What's going on?"

The older man sighed and rubbed his forehead. "A call came in from Norfolk. Atlantic Fleet needs one more F/A-18 pilot for an assignment. Your name was mentioned."

"No," Bradley replied immediately as his stomach lurched. "Atlantic Fleet? Mav, please tell me you're joking."

"I'm not."

Bradley's head was swimming with concern. He'd only been in the Pacific Fleet for a few years, and he wasn't looking to go back to Virginia. Not even temporarily, but certainly not permanently. You were only with him because he was based out of San Diego. You told him yourself how scared you had been when you thought you were falling for a man who lived on the other side of the country.

"My name was mentioned?" he muttered. "Who else was mentioned?"

Maverick shook his head. "Nobody. They want you. I'd start thinking about getting your duffle out of the closet this weekend. I'll get your more information as soon as I can."

Bradley had more questions than answers, but he let the other man walk away without another word. When he unlocked his phone and saw the perfect photo of you, his heart clenched. Having answers to his questions would only make it harder to tell you what was about to happen.

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

But they love each other! Reverting back to full-time pen pals mode? Will that even work? Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 18

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[wandasaura]

SONG IN THE CAR

summary — wanda just wants to check that you’re not lying, but you can only keep yourself together for so long before you beg natasha to fuck you in the car

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, mommy kink, daddy kink, subspace, public play, inspection kink, butt plugs, packing, strap-on usage, mentions of edging, mentions of spanking, doggy style, car sex, semi-public sex, degradation, praise, dumbification, mentions of free use, finger sucking, oral fixation, men/minors dni

authors note — i’m not even going to apologize for what this turned into because once i started i just kept adding the most unhinged things. as always, this doesn’t need to be read with the yail series but it might make more sense if it is. the ending is a wee bit rushed but i wanted to get this out for you, so i hope you enjoy!

you are in love

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

A strangled whine falls off the tip of your tongue when Wanda trails her fingers across the small of your back. The interior of the store is cold, the electric hum of an air conditioning unit almost as loud as the music that plays through speakers hidden within different vents around the clothing store. You can’t even fathom what business Wanda and Natasha have being in a shop that’s blasting brain melting pop tracks, but they dragged you inside at the first sight of the large LED letters out front. 

You’ve lost sight of Natasha, the Russian made a dramatic show of escaping toward the back wall merely seconds after Wanda dragged you over to look at a rack of denim shorts. The store was geared more toward a generation around your age, the elements of both boho aesthetic and minimalism felt almost too trendy to be authentic, but if you weren’t so… overwhelmed, to put it sweetly, you would’ve vocalized just how much you liked the style of clothes that sat folded precisely on the shelves surrounding you. 

Wanda’s hand lingered on the small of your back for longer than an appropriate second. Despite the cold store that threatened to erase all memories of the sweltering heat outside, the Sokovian’s hands were the perfect cross between just barely warm and unacceptably frigid. The longer they sat on the exposed skin of your back – the baby tee Natasha had picked out for you to wear hugging your ribs tightly and subsequently allowing both her and Wanda access to your sensitive spine – the harder it became to not envision them falling lower and lower until they found a place between your thighs for the second time that day. 

You weren’t looking at Wanda, intentionally avoiding her strong stare and focusing intensely on the white shelves that adorned the walls. You didn’t need to glance at her to feel the devilish smirk that rested across the very lips that had wrapped around your clit and left you needy only a handful of hours earlier to know that it was there and obnoxious. Natasha had kissed her in the car and claimed smugly that Wanda’s tongue still tasted of you, but neither had offered any assistance in relieving the sticky situation between your thighs. 

 When Wanda’s question went unanswered a second time, the question being if you liked anything in particular around the store, a perfectly sculpted brow rose in your direction and the attention you’d been putting on the racks of clothing became a fascination of the past. A slender finger cradled your jaw, cold against your flushed skin but not icy enough to flinch away from instinctively. The subtle gesture had forced your eyes away from the t-shirts and baby-tees you’d been meticulously staring at, and rather onto a set of twinkling green eyes. Wanda’s lips were still curved upward into a smirk, but they twinged with something dangerous as she set her gaze on your dilated pupils and permanently pink cheeks. 

“Mommy asked you a question, milaya. What’s got you so distracted?” Wanda pouts, her lips teasing and thin as they purse in an attempt to ward off a sickening grin of mischief that she wore mere seconds beforehand. She knows exactly what’s distracting you, she’d been the one to suggest this little game when Natasha decided she wanted to go shopping, but still she feigns innocence as you come undone in a disgusting public mall. 

Despite having an answer on the tip of your tongue, you can’t find the courage to share it with Wanda. There shouldn’t be any reason for you to vocalize your feelings when she’s already aware, despite her trying to break you down time and time again. Instead, you settle for something simple, and certain enough to wind her up a good deal. “Nothing.” The word doesn’t roll off your tongue as easily as you would’ve liked. It’s choppy and cuts like a dagger, but it sits lightly in the air between both of your warm bodies as Wanda takes the time to process what you’ve just said. Or rather, how you’ve just blatantly lied to her. 

“Oh, nothing’s distracting you, baby?” Wanda coos, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side as her eyes threaten to unravel the web of lies you're spinning. You don’t even have a chance to answer before she’s gripping your jaw, the pad of her thumb pressing into the hollow of your cheek while her pointer fingers sentence the other side of your face to the same fate. Her grip is tight, controlling, but not harsh enough to actually hurt. She’s mastered the art of grabbing you in a way that stuns you into submissive silence, and though you’re in public where anyone can see, she doesn’t seem to mind holding all the cards in her one-handed grip.  “So if Mommy put her hand in those pretty panties you’ve got on, she wouldn’t find a sticky mess?” 

There are two choices here, you can either deny the accusation and save a sliver of your dignity that’s waning fast as the day progresses, or you can agree with her accusation and hope that your honesty satisfies her need to be right in this moment; either choice will lead to her hand in your panties, you’re not dumb enough to believe that she’ll drop the act when you’re already this far in, but there’s still defiance burning in your belly that deceives you enough to believe you’ll walk away with the upperhand. Hastily, not thinking much of the consequences, your head shakes from side to side in the negative. You’ve decided to save yourself the embarrassment of admitting that your panties are absolutely drenched by no fault of your own, it’s entirely her fault and she knows that. The movement is little, restrained to small jerks due to the hand on your jaw, but Wanda feels it, and she quirks an eyebrow. “I need words.” She tightens her grip, forces your lips to pucker and your cheeks to ache from how her fingers sit flush against your teeth. 

“N-No.” It takes all of your strength to answer her, and even still all of your mustered up courage leaves a fierce blush sinking into the apples of your cheeks and across the tips of your ears, but a fire lights in Wanda’s eyes at your prolonged battle to remain coherent. You’ve been fighting her on decisions all day, trying to keep your head above the surface and your thoughts clear, but there’s only so much clarity in a moment like this. Nobody can blame you for falling beneath the thumb of the hottest lawyer in the world when you’re quite literally putty in her hands. 

“Oh, well then I guess you won’t mind if I check for myself, will you, detka?” You’d discussed this new kink a week ago. You’d agreed to what she called inspections with no hesitancy, though a healthy bit of embarrassment at the prospect of her being able to feel your sopping cunt whenever she pleased, but you’d agreed and even anticipated the moment she decided to put your agreement to good use. You hadn’t expected her to be so bold as to cash in on your agreement in one of the most densely populated shopping malls in the state of New Jersey, but there was no getting around it now. Still, your eyes fluttered away from hers, anxiously scrounging the small boutique style store for other customers or cameras.

Your eyes only found two figures, and one was distinctly Natasha who had styled her red hair in dutch braids before you left the house. For a second, you wondered if this had been the plan all along; to get you into a store where nobody else dared to shop because of the steep prices and violate you into submission, though you wouldn’t technically call Wanda’s premistion a violation, but… still. The only employee that stood on the floor was a smaller woman with silky chestnut hair, and she occupied a space next to Natasha against the far back wall as the two engaged in a conversation that looked to be revolving around a red bikini top your girlfriend held up to her chest. It complemented her hair nicely, would do absolute wonders for her boobs, but she had no real interest in the article if the pinch between her brows was evidence enough. 

Despite the reassurances you found, you met Wanda’s gaze again and choked out a strangled whisper, “Somebody’s going to see.” The blush on your cheeks was sheerly a factor of your mortification, but Wanda seemed to crave to deepen the sharp color on your face as the hand not gripping your face began its ascent toward your core. The flowy white skirt Natasha had picked out for you allowed her access without a fuss, and when her fingers tickled the sensitive interior of your thighs, you couldn’t help but instinctively part your legs for Wanda’s quest. 

“Shh,” The Sokovian shushed you sweetly, her hand loosening its grip on your jaw but never falling away fully. Her eyes searched yours, practically looking through you as she assured that you were okay to continue, anticipating the moment the safeword fell off your lips and all of her movements stopped. You’d never stop adoring her caution in moments like these. “Let Mommy do the thinking, sweetheart. Little girls don’t need to be worrying about anything other than their Mommy.” Her words fell onto you thickly, and a pout pulled at your lips as they sunk in. That submissive headspace all three of you adored was creeping up on you slowly, and her infantilizing words merely accelerated the process as you blinked at her slowly. 

The hand on your thigh brushed across your mound tauntingly slow, and for a second, you’d forgotten that you weren’t going to receive anything from her touch when it finally came. There would be no pleasure to spiral through your core when her fingers found a home beneath the drenched material of your panties. All that would come from her touch was embarrassment and more frustration. You gasped when Wanda’s ring trailed down the warm skin of your cunt, tracing a path downward until it fell onto your clit almost perfectly. Your hips startled at the cold sensation, but Wanda merely shushed you as the tips of her fingers sought out the source of your arousal. She hummed inquisitively, the pad of her finger pressing against your sopping entrance for merely a moment before it was gone and she was trailing strings of your wetness back up to your clit. 

“You’re so wet, utenok. No wonder you’re having such a hard time listening to Mommy. I bet it’s so hard to think when your pretty little pussy is just crying for attention.” Wanda mused mockingly, the pads of her fingers circling your clit that throbbed and ached for actual relief, but the pleasure never came. As quickly as her hand had dipped into your underwear and sought out your intimacy, they’d fallen away and resettled on your hips. The sticky thinness of your arousal smeared against your exposed skin kissed beautifully from the summer sun, and you knew she had every intention of making you walk through the mall with a patch of glimmering dampness adorning your body that you’d never have the courage to explain if someone questioned it. A deep blush settled across your cheeks, but Wanda wasn’t finished yet. Before you could reach out to her and tangle your fingers into the softness of her t-shirt, she was spinning you around and forcing your back against her chest. “Mommy’s not finished yet. Be a good girl and stay quiet while she checks something.” 

You’d almost had the chance to question her intentions before the words were stolen from between your bitten lips and the softest gasp of pleasure fell from you instead. Wanda’s fingers, still glistening with your arousal, had found a home beneath your skirt and against the base of the plug nestled deep within your ass. You’d only started trying the plugs out a couple weeks ago, but in that span of less than fourteen days they’d become something you adored and hated equally. The deep pleasure that came from constantly feeling full was insatiable and you craved it whenever Natasha pulled it out too soon, but you’ve grown to hate how every soft step shifted it against you perfectly, and especially how no matter which position you attempted to sit in it presses deeper and deeper into you without remorse. Wanda’s fingers circle the crimson red jewel framed between the globes of your ass, cheeks still pink from a spanking you’d received yesterday. The touch is soft, gentle, caring even, but when you think she’s about to pull away and end her little experiment, she taps harshly on the center plug twice, sending sparks of pleasure through your body and into your already fuzzy head. 

“So full for Mommy. Those panties are absolutely ruied, moya lyubov’.” Wanda pulls her hand out of your panties, spinning you back around in her arms and cradling you close to her chest as you shake and try to comprehend the fact that for right now, that simple touch was all you’d be getting. You’d think she almost felt an ounce of sympathy for your desperate form if she wasn’t wearing such a cocky smirk. “You’re being such a good girl, detka. Maybe we should keep you like this, huh? All full and eager to be fucked. Daddy could just bend you over anywhere and you’d take it, wouldn’t you?” Wanda preened into your ear, her words thick with lust and traces of an accent you’ve begun to memorize. You’re not sure whether to nod your head and agree, because it’s true, you’d let Natasha fuck you anywhere she wanted to right now, you’re not oblivious to the fact that she’s packing your favorite strap beneath those denim shorts adorning her toned legs, or to shake your head and beg for her to not let that happen. You’re not sure you’ll be able to survive in this state for another couple hours, let alone for however long they deem acceptable. “Huh, answer Mommy, baby. Do you want Mommy to keep you like this forever? Want to be ready to use whenever Mommy and Daddy feel the need to take you?” 

“I-I want you, Mommy.” You pleaded, shaking your head frantically at the suggestion that rolls off of Wanda’s lips like its been imprinted onto the tip of her tongue for decades. The Sokovian smirks, drawing you in closer to her chest and letting her forehead rest against yours, her deep sage eyes peering into your soul with how intensely she stares down at you. 

“You have me, baby.” She soothed your downturned lips with a gentle kiss, her touch soft and smooth yet harboring a lingerance of artificial strawberry chapstick if you thought about her taste long enough. The embrace was fleeting, entirely too short, but it had your head spinning when she pulled away and greeted Natasha who you hadn’t even noticed had come up beside you. “Come on,” Wanda patted your ass deliberately, jostling the plug just softly enough to have you hyper aware of its presence but not earning pleasure. “we still have a couple of stores to hit.” 

“I was thinking we stop by that store you like, ducky. We can see if they have any of those little pins you were talking about?” Natasha places a firm hand on your back, her eyes kind but tinted with lust that has settled deep within her stare permanently since Wanda wiggled the plug between your cheeks. There’s a hint of knowingness in her smile, an indication that she knows perfectly well what had just happened between you and her wife. 

The proposition of spending another handful of hours surrounded by incompetent strangers with no regard for others and continuous sounds that blended into static chatter didn’t sound appealing, but unless you called red, they weren’t taking you home. Reluctantly, you took Natasha’s hand, allowing the lawyer to lead you out of the boutique and toward a store much more your style. Wanda’s hand stayed firm on the small of your back as Natasha took the lead, but your focus had fallen beneath the waves as you surrendered to them entirely. 

-

A desperate whine slipped past your lips as Wanda pulled you into her chest, toned arms still warm from the sun wrapping tightly around your torso and keeping you still. The dressing room was saturated in gold plated decor and embellishments, illuminated by a chandelier framed with dazzling crystals worth more than your entire college education. Natasha had dragged the both of you into the high-end designer store with the hopes of them having their new summer collection, and much to your annoyance, they did. The bold colored suits were a powerful statement, she’d look absolutely delectable in them, but that was exactly what you were worried about. The thought of her in a suit so expensive and sleek sent tingles through your belly that couldn’t just be ignored, especially not with your already existing desperation. Wanda wasn’t blind to your frustration, and she smirked wickedly down at you the second Natasha had slipped behind the heavy fitting room door. 

“Shh, Mommy just wants to check.” She whispered against the shell of your ear, a cold hand trailing up the inside of your thigh that is absolutely drenched with arousal. Your eyes burn into hers as you both become controlled by lust, already blown pupils somehow finding additional blackness to manipulate until the color in Wanda’s eyes is entirely vacant. Your bottom lip is bitten and quivering as you feel her fingers start to massage your slick coated folds, a shaky breath at the back of your throat desperate to be unleashed. “Oh, you’re so wet sweetheart. Did Mommy do this to you?” 

You nod shortly at her question, aware of how close the tips of her cold fingers are coming to your clit every time she strokes the length of your folds, but each time they never brush against your stiff and throbbing nerve, merely coming close enough to tease before they’re gone. She circles your entrance repetitively, pressing against it only to pull away seconds later and trail her fingers back down toward the plug, but she never fully grazes that either. She’s content to keep playing with your body like a toy in the middle of the fitting room, her lewd actions have entirely drowned out the sounds of Natasha throwing different articles of clothes around in the dressing room just a few feet behind you, your focus entirely on her and the sensations she’s provoking cautiously. 

“Oh she did? Mommy did this? What a little slut, getting so worked up and Mommy’s not even touching you fully. You’re so easy, dorogaya” Wanda continues to tease condescendingly, giving you not a single second of relief as she digs her fingers harder into your cunt on the last swipe across your panties before she’s hooking her fingers into the waistband and tugging them down. 

Your eyes go wide as you look up at her fully, your shoulders tensing as she keeps tugging the soiled garment down your thighs. “W-What are you doing?” Your skirt is short, it’s flowy and it’s thin but that was Natasha’s entire goal when she dressed you that morning. You know that despite the length every intimate part of your body is covered, but you weren’t prepared to challenge the wind once you stepped outside again. 

“Color?” Wanda stops her movements, her voice soft and kind as she keeps her eyes on you. Everything before this point had been a discussion that you’d had time to prepare yourself for, but this was unplanned and admittedly terrifying, and yet your belly clenched at the prospect of her undressing you in a public space and forcing you to walk around with no barrier to catch your arousal. 

“G-Green.” You mumbled back at her once you’d taken a second to collect your thoughts and swallow your shock. Wanda nodded curtly before she slipped right back into her role, eyes hard and jaw clenched as she continued pulling your panties down before tapping your thigh in a silent demand for you to step out of them. 

“Then stop talking and let Mommy do what she wants.”  Her voice was hard, leaving no space for you to argue, but you weren’t going to. You stepped out of your panties with a gentle wince, feeling their dampness against your shins before the sensation was gone entirely and Wanda was holding them up to the light to inspect. Your cheeks flushed in humiliation, watching her fingers swipe across the soaked material before she hummed and folded them up, shoving them into her back pocket like they were just a piece of paper she’d found on the ground. “Good girl.” 

You bristled beneath her praise, but your attention drifted away from her when you heard the door unlock and Natasha’s soft footsteps came stepping out slowly. There was no question about whether she had heard the entire exchange, but you had no time to pay attention to her cheeks flush with need as you drank in the sight of her in a hundred thousand dollar suit. If your eyes weren’t already blown wide with lust, they certainly were now as you gawked at her defined biceps and breasts, the suit drowning some of her more prominent features but highly accentuating others. A rippled whine fell off your tongue as your eyes memorized the sight, but so badly you wanted to rip it off her body and drag her home to appreciate her fully. 

“P-Please.” You just barely got the plea off of your lips as Wanda sparked up a conversation with her wife, commenting on the fit of the suit before she began her shower of compliments and praise. You’d gone ignored, or maybe they just hadn’t heard you, whatever the reason for their silence toward you, it only frustrated you further. “Daddy please!” You tried again, eyes wet and pleading as you held onto the little attention Natasha was providing you as her eyes danced away from Wanda’s and found yours beneath the bright LED lights. 

“Shh.” Wanda scolded, a finger coming up to sit on your lips as she turned her head to glare at you. It wasn’t intentional, but your lips had done it anyway. The second her finger, still soft from your arousal, brushed against your lips, you’d let your tongue poke out and lick at her finger, able to identify the traces of you that clung to her skin despite how she’d wiped her fingers clean on your outer thigh. Your lips wrapped around the digit, suckling and biting sweetly as the blanket over your mind became thicker and warmer. Wanda didn’t stop you, merely returned her attention to Natasha before the Russian nodded and disappeared back into the fitting room, hopefully changing back into her own clothes. “Mommy needs that back, little one.” Wanda said softly, gently easing her finger from between your lips when it became apparent that you weren’t going to relinquish it yourself. A pitiful whine came falling off the tip of your tongue when she pulled it away, but she merely smiled sweetly and kissed the top of your head. “Come on, Daddy’s gonna check out and then we’re going to go home.” 

You shook your head, absolutely appalled at the suggestion that you’d have to wait until you arrived home to get what you wanted. The mall wasn’t far, but an hour was a long time for someone who had been teased and dragged along relentlessly since the sun had first kissed the gravel paths that weaved and winded through Westview. 

“No?” Wanda furrowed her brows, looking down at you with nothing but softness in her still black and lust filled stare. She’d dropped the condescending tone, abandoned the fleeting touches and teasing, but the only thing that would fully cure the arousal in her eyes was getting a taste of your sweet pussy. 

The words felt heavy on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t last another hour without release, and so they found their way off of your lips before you could panic about the implications of your request, “Fuck me now.” 

Wanda’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but that look of shock that claimed her strong features had quickly become something sinister as she stepped closer to you, invading your personal space and allowed you the slightest tinge of her perfume as her chest came flush with yours and she let a single finger tilt your head upward to meet her heavy stare. “Yeah? You want your Daddy to put that strap to use and treat you like a filthy little slut where anyone can hear you crying out in pleasure? You want an audience, moya utenok?” 

A whimper filled the dressing room as your thighs pressed together, your lack of panties leaving the rush of arousal to drip nowhere by your thighs as you writhed beneath Wanda. A soft nod came next, and Wanda smirked proudly, mimicking your gesture before she stepped away entirely and turned her attention back to Natasha who had only just left the dressing room with the suit thrown over her forearm. 

“Hurry up, moya lyubov’. The little slut wants her Daddy to fuck her and who am I to say no to that?” Wanda taunted, grabbing your hand and leading you back out into the store, letting Natasha check out in peace as she occupied you with whispered promises of how the Russian was going to absolutely ruin you where anyone was around to watch. 

-

The only saving grace about Natasha’s car were the tinted windows that blocked out the eyes of anyone who dared to even get close to the Stingray. The seat was drenched in your arousal, thighs spread wide as you occupied almost the entire strip of leather. She’d need to clean the seats thoroughly when you got home, but for right now, neither of you cared. Your hands sunk into the cushioned row of seats as you pressed your ass out further, back arched and muscles strained as you dropped your forehead onto the window and watched with slitted eyes as your breath fogged up the glass. Wanda watched from the passenger seat, green eyes trained on your desperate form that reflected off the rearview mirror pointed downward. Natasha was pressed up against the door, shorts unzipped and hanging loosely over her hip bones as the strap stood at full attention, no longer confined beneath the stiff denim. 

Your skirt was bunched up around your hips, ass and thighs already red from various hits and spanks that the Russian had laid upon your ivory skin. She’d yet to touch you, but each hit that rocked the plug in your ass sent you reeling closer and closer to ultimate pleasure. All you could make out was white spots as they danced along your vision and intercepted the view of strangers and cars wrecking havoc in the parking lot around you. Even when a middle aged man and his wife had gotten close to the car, shopping bags in each of their hands that you could only assume was a pending return, you hadn’t focused much on what they could see from the outside. Your focus was entirely on Natasha, and yet the lawyer hadn’t done anything since bending you over. 

“D-Daddy please! I need you so bad! Please!” You cried out in desperation, back arching further as your nipples grazed the seats, your ass grinding against the strap that she refused to shove into you just yet. What she was waiting for, you didn’t know, but every agonizing second that passed was becoming longer and longer as you waited for relief to wash over you fully. Only she could get you to that point, and yet no matter how much you pleaded with her she didn’t cave. “P-Please!” A strangled cry slipped past your lips when her hand found your ass and her thumb pressed firmly on the jeweled plug nestled between your cheeks. 

“Shh.” The Russian coos. It’s the first sound that’s come to fill the car that wasn’t your own since she had aggressively shoved you into the backseat, and you greedily drink in the unspoken promise that what you want is coming soon. You have no time to prepare yourself for the intrusion of her strap as it slips between your folds and finds a home within your cunt in seconds, but you gasp so sweetly that Natasha doesn’t stop to give you a moment to adjust to the wide girth that’s splitting you open. You’ve wanted this for hours, she’s in no mood to drag your pleasure out any further, having already tested her own patience as she waited for Wanda’s silent permission to begin. You’d been oblivious to the curt nod that was given by the Sokovian, but as much as the game was in Natasha’s hands now, Wanda still held all the cards. “Do you feel that, malyshka? Feel Daddy’s cock splitting you open? Filling this slutty little pussy where anyone can see if they come close enough. I bet you’re so full. This pretty little plug has been driving you crazy all day, hasn’t it? Mommy picked out such a pretty color for you.” As the words drive you farther and farther into pleasure and submission, Natasha’s thumb presses against the plug and sends your mind spiraling downward into a sea of static energy. There’s a thick ringing in your ears that forces your mind to go blank, your hips that had been stuttering against her quick thrusts stilling as you surrendered your body to her control, willing to take whatever she gave you in this very moment. 

Natasha’s thrusts only grow faster as your moans and whines become softer and sweeter, desperation not only evident in the way your arousal soaks your thighs and the seats, but in the pitch of your moans as they fill the car and ricochet off the windows. You don’t have it in you to feel embarrassed by how loud you’re being, your only focus is taking the pleasure and not letting it slip away again. A broken cry leaves your lips as Natasha’s hand finds your clit, thumb rubbing circles on the sensitive nub as she winds you tighter and tighter. Her own thrusts are becoming choppy and quick, groans of pleasure harmonizing with yours until the entire car is just an explicit symphony of intimacy. Wanda’s eyes haven’t left you once, but you can’t see her with the way you’re bent and arched over. Natasha can, and she curses beautiful in Russian as she gives you the green light to let go. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Cum for me. Cum on Daddy’s strap.” She encourages gently, her thrusts growing harsher as she chases her own pleasure and orgasms with a delicate moan, though it's quickly drowned out by your own sobs and cries of bliss as you writhe beneath her heavy hands and let the coil snap in your belly. Your body shakes in the aftermath, arms giving out on you as you crash against the leather seats and subsequently pull your cunt off of her strap, the glistening material catching rays of sunlight before she quickly tucks it back into her shorts and zips them up. “You did so good for us, malyshka. So so good.” Natasha kisses the bottom of your spine, her fingers working on the plug in your ass simultaneously. Wanda maneuvered herself in the passenger seat, her hand reaching out to just barely brush against your upper back as well. “Relax for me, angel. Let Daddy take this plug out and then we’ll go home.” She talks you through the process, but nothing prepares you for how empty you feel when the metal is no longer flush against your walls keeping you full. A strangled whimper falls off your lips before it’s gently drowned out by shushing and shuffling. Natasha, unwilling to let you go through aftercare in a crowded parking lot all twisted up, opens the door and steps out of the car, nodding for Wanda to occupy a seat in the back beside you. “Mommy’s gonna sit back here with you, and Daddy’s gonna take us home. Just let go, honey. It’s all okay.” 

It doesn’t take longer than five minutes for Wanda to be sat beside you, your body curled up into her chest and void of a seatbelt. Typically she’d scold you for such a behavior, but all she does now is hold you tighter and kiss your head, promising that you’ll be home soon and there will be plenty of cuddles and kisses all wrapped up beneath the heavy blankets on the bed.

[lnlightning81]

The Broken Rib [OP81 + LN4]

Summary : Oscar broke his rib but he won't tell you or Lando how, too ashamed by how he did it, however you and Lando are there to look after him and love him.

Pairing/s: Oscar Piastri x Reader x Lando Norris

Warning/s: Poly Relationship

Word Count: 2.1K

Masterlist Lando Norris Masterlist Oscar Piastri Masterlist Tag List

A/N: This is my first poly fic. I tried to make it so that all three of them were in the relationship not that just the reader was dating both drivers while they aren't dating. I hope you like it.

A/N 2: My tags aren't working at the moment but I'll fix them soon

Oscar had stupidly broken a rib. How? He wouldn’t share with you or Lando, but you knew that he was in pain. You were pretty sure he’d just done something stupid and was too ashamed to share how he did it with you both. 

Standing in the fan zone of the Hungarian Grand Prix, you could tell Oscar was in pain. As Lando took a drink from his can before handing it to you before starting to compete with a small child trying to get the best score. Lando pushed the small child out the way, jokingly trying to gain a head start as Oscar signed some things. 

You could see the pain he was in as he crouched down to the height of the child but you knew that he was enjoying himself too much to stop and think about how much pain it was causing him. 

Oscar soon stood up, turning to the camera with a chuckle 

“Highly matched so far” Oscar hummed, looking at the scores 

“Lando’s got a height advantage here, which you don’t often say about Lando Norris” He laughed as you shook your head 

“But you do in this case” He finished, and you smiled, knowing it would cause some extra friendly rivalry between the two of them. You smiled as Oscar walked over to you, pressing a kiss against your head 

“Are you okay?” You asked, softly tilting your head up to look at him 

“Yeah I’m doing okay” You nodded as he was called up to compete against a child. Lando smiled, taking his can from you as you walked over to him 

“He okay?” He whispered, causing you to shrug a little 

“Says he is, but I can see he’s in pain” You sighed, and he nodded, handing the can back before helping Oscar to try and win. It was just them being funny to the outside world, but to you, you knew it was because Lando didn’t want Oscar hurting himself even more. 

Although your relationship was hidden to the outside world for the most part, they knew of it in some aspects but not about how deep the relationship actually went. Many just assumed the three of you were being overly friendly with Lando and Oscar fighting for your love and hand. 

Both boys went through their time taking pictures individually with the young fans before a group photo. Lando stood on his toes, and Oscar decided to copy him. You laughed a little knowing about the fact Oscar loves to bully Lando lovingly about his height. 

“No Oscar” Lando muttered, and Oscar dropped back to his normal height. You left them there wandering back to the hospitality walking into Lando’s downstairs drivers room, knowing for a fact that he’d had a nap earlier and left his bed up. 

So that’s where you sat waiting for them to finish up. Both boys walked in with smiles on their faces. Lando moved you onto his lap so he and Oscar could sit down. 

“Hey there” Lando smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips as Oscar kicked his legs up 

“Hey there to you both” You smiled as Oscar rested his head on Lando’s shoulder. 

“You okay, love?” Lando asked him as you turned your head to look at him 

“Yeah, just in a little pain” Oscar mumbled, and you frowned, turning fully on Lando’s lap to face Oscar

“Have you taken any painkillers today? You’re not in the car today you’re allowed to take some the doctor prescribed” You worried, pushing a stand of hair out his face 

“She’s right, love. The FIA allowed you to” Lando whispered, pressing a kiss to Oscar’s hair

“They’re in my drivers room” Oscar mumbled, closing his eyes as you pressed a kiss to his lips 

“I’ll go get them for you darling” You smiled softly, getting up and wandering to his driver's room to retrieve them and his water bottle. Handing them to him after a few steps between the room, you sat back down in Lando’s lap, not wanting to hurt Oscar even more. 

Oscar turned to look at you, and you smiled at him, holding his hand with one of your own and Lando’s with your other. Lando’s other hand wrapped around your waist to hold you in place. You couldn’t help but smile a little, although it wasn’t the perfect conditions to be in because Oscar was in pain. It was a moment where it was just the three of you. 

Alone and in the quiet of the drivers room before, they were called away for more media duties, leaving you alone again unless you decided to join them however, that was a little bit more boring.

There was a knock at the door, and Lando groaned, dropping his head onto your shoulder as Jon popped his head into the room

“Mate media’s looking for you both. You better go see what they want” Jon shrugged, turning on his heel and walking back out of the room. Both of your boys groaning Oscar getting up to comply, but Lando holding his hand to keep him in place on the couch/bed thing 

“Lan we’ve got to go” Oscar mumbled, and you nodded in agreement 

“You do, baby. You know I’d love for you both to stay here and cuddle with me however I told Alex and Kika that I’d meet them once you two got stolen from me” You smiled pushing strands of hair out both of their faces. Oscar standing up again as you got up from Lando’s lap, holding a hand out to him. 

Lando gave you his hand, and you pulled him up onto his feet, not putting up much fight knowing how much time you liked spending with the other girls in the paddock. Lando leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips before turning you around to face Oscar. You stood up on your toes, pressing a kiss to Oscar’s lips, not wanting him to bend down and hurt himself. 

As the boys walked out of the drivers room, you could see their hands subtly touch, and you couldn’t help but smile. While Oscar wasn’t one for PDA, Lando made sure that there were subtle touches so Oscar knew that he was still loved as much as you were. 

You didn’t travel far from Mclaren’s hospitality with Kika and Alex, although you were kinda close to the media pen where all of your boys were there working. You had suggested the tables next to the media pen because you wanted to keep an eye on Oscar. 

You could see Oscar’s hair every so often and the way that when he laughed at one of Lando’s jokes, he had to grab his side in pain. Alex and Kika joking about how much you were keeping an eye on the boys however, what you both missed was Lando also keeping an eye on him. 

Back in the hotel room, you were sitting on the stool at the vanity doing your makeup because Lando and Oscar wanted to go on a date night. Lying on the bed, Oscar had his head on Lando’s chest as Lando’s hand played with Oscar’s hair. 

They had told you to start getting ready earlier than them because apparently you take longer to get ready than them, and now they were just enjoying cuddling. You turned around on the stool 

“Are you sure you want to go out?” You asked as both boys nodded however, their bodies and faces said differently 

“You know that I don’t mind staying in the hotel room with room service, cuddling up to my favourite men in the world maybe with a movie on” You hummed crawling on the bed next to them. 

“You know we like taking you out though” Lando sighed as Oscar nodded on Lando’s chest 

“I know you both do, but you look so comfortable there, and Oscar really needs to be resting” You smiled softly, resting a hand on each of their legs, caressing both of them. Oscar looked up at Lando, having a silent conversation between them. 

“Okay fine. Go get yourself ready for a cuddle night” Lando smiled as Oscar reached towards the bedside table for the menu. You smiled, getting back up and removing the make-up from your face. You looked into the suitcases on the floor that were overspilling from all three of you. 

The three of you were messy. Cisca, Nicole, and your mum all telling each of you off for how messy you were almost constantly. The time when Lando’s family was visiting and all of your clothes are all over the place after a trip. To you three, it was an organised chaos, but to his family, it was just chaos.

Oscar when he was staying with the prince in Bahrain before the three of you had told Mclaren about the relationship and before you could travel to a Grand Prix with your work his clothes all over the floor of the palace while he leaned against some tapestry. 

Your parents had just never shut up about how messy you were. From the age of five, they complained about your mess, and now, at your grown-up age, they were still doing it. 

You climbed onto the bed behind Oscar, looking at the menu over his shoulder after pulling one of Lando’s hoodies over your head so it covered your body. You smiled, knowing that tonight was going to end up good. 

Lando and Oscar both looked at each other before shaking their heads, and Oscar got up as Lando pulled you into the middle of the bed. Your head resting on Lando’s head before Oscar lays his head on your chest. Your hand instantly comes up to play with your hair. Oscar showed you the menu, letting both you and Lando read what you wanted. 

Lando called in the room service as you let Oscar pick the movie out for the night. 

The race was the worst thing you had to watch. Both of your boys deserved the win, but unfortunately, that wasn’t possible only one of them could win. You knew they weren’t going to hate each other behind closed doors for a long time. 

You didn’t want to pick a boyfriend at this point, so you just sat in the main hospitality area waiting for them. Both of them gave each other the cold shoulder as they kissed your head and passed you. 

You sighed, looking over at the strategy team. It was their fault this was happening. While everyone was so happy for Oscar’s first win and a one two for the team, it didn’t feel right. You walked into Oscar’s driving room. 

“I’m not mad” He whispered, and you smiled, glancing at the media team before shutting the door. 

“I know you’re not darling, but remember we’re all in this together. All three of us. I’m gonna go into Lando’s room while the media team have their way with you” You pressed a kiss to his lips before walking out and into Lando’s driver’s room. 

The sight broke you. Lando with his head in his hands, his body shaking a little. You sat next to him, wrapping your arms around him, just holding him for the moment. You knew that he was hard on himself, and this was just how he was dealing. 

“I’m sorry. I was being a dick. I know that” You shook your head 

“Maybe you were, but you wanted the win. I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to remember it’s not just the two of you here. I’m here. It also wasn’t his choice, you know that. So what I need from you is you need to go kiss and make up with him. Literally. Because I don’t want any of us fighting” Lando nodded, getting up and wiping his eyes. You watched him walk out, knowing that they would kiss and make up. 

By the time the three of you were back at your own home, everything was back to normal between the two of them, which you couldn’t have been more, happy about. You knew that they would be okay eventually, and you just being there helped them out. 

Laying on the bed with the two of them, both of them holding one of your hands as well as each other's hands. It was the perfect night. Playing monopoly, eating takeaways, and the flight with other drivers. 

Coming Soon

Tag List

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[highvern]

Soft

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem! reader

Genre: fluffy smut, 18+

Warnings: sleepy soft domestic sex, oral (m. receiving), praise, cum swallowing, face fucking, soft cheol, mentions of butt stuff (this is becoming too frequent), mentions of thigh riding, begging, dom-ish cheol, sub-reader

Length: 1.5k

Note: inspired by this soft thought. like i literally haven't stopped thinking about domestic cheol the past few days and just loving that man up so here is a short fic to get it out of my system. not proof read!!!! also @bbychocolat thank u for ruining my night with domestic cheol thots

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

The winter chill seeping through the window bites against your nose as your boyfriend traces the cool tip of his own against your cheek. Pinned under the weight of his body and the blankets, you float into bliss; his slightly chapped lips repaying all the kisses you loaned him minutes earlier.

Beyond your entangled bodies the bed feels infinite. There's nothing in the world beyond you and Seungcheol. The world is quietly holding its breath as you comb your fingers through his hair.

You urge him to stay on the next pass of his mouth against yours. A gentle suck of his lower lip is all it takes to convince him he's right where he needs to be. His hand caresses your face, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. Your eyes open and meet his when he manages to pull away. Something more than words could ever convey passes between you.

A gentle prod against his shoulder rolls him into the sheets next to your body; the hood of his sweater falling back to reveal the mess of his hair. Longing aches in your heart from his soft face and pouting lips. You’d sit in his lap and kiss him for the rest of time if he asked. If he wanted the moon, you’d find a way to give it to him. Anything for him to keep looking at you the way he is now.

Dipping down, you reconnect your mouths. The wash of his tongue across your bottom lip is soothing as a stream.

His hand doesn’t stop stroking the back of your neck, thumb massinging against the knob of bone at the base of your skull. The juxtaposition of your boyfriend’s strength and how he always treats you as something fragile makes you dizzy.

It’s too cold to undress so you settle for pulling Seungcheol’s hoodie up his stomach. Each inch of skin revealed drives you further down into the pit of desperation blooming in your stomach. 

Your lips trace the bottom of his ribs, across the softness of his belly and the slightly raised jut of his hips. The urge to cover him in dark bruises and bite marks sings through your blood but you’ll save it for another time. Right now, you want to worship every piece of your man with the softness he usually bestows on you.

His ticklish laughter curls against your ears when you lick the raised vein below his belly button. The smile against his skin only makes him curl up further. 

“Cheollie,” you snicker, fingers soft against his sides.

“Don’t start.”

It’s a warning. He hates being tickled. The first time you found his weak spots, Seungcheol had to pin you against the bed and distract you with something else for you to stop.

And as tempting as that is; it’s still not what you want. 

You mouth against the bulge hiding under the fabric of his pants, hot breaths puffing through to his cock. Following the lean, you suck around the tip until his gray sweats are soaked in your spit on one side and his pre-cum on the other. Every twitch of your lips has him swelling until his hands rush to shimmy down his sweats and underwear. 

Seungcheol slowly feeds you each inch of his cock, eyes never leaving your own even as you drool into his lap the way he likes. The slick of his cum satisfies you the way nothing else can; the cure for a part of your brain always desperate for your boyfriend to use you.

“So good,” he croaks.

Each lap of your tongue against his length takes him higher, but your desperate whimpers whispering up to his ears are the best part of this. You lick gently at the head, sucking up your reward until Seungcheol’s brain melts out of his ears.

He knows how much you like his hands, his fingers, and never shies away from reminding you of that fact. Especially in a position like this were your eagerness to please possess every cell in your body.

One hand lands on the side of your face, thumb hooking in the split of your lips to stretch your mouth wider around his cock before he forces you to take it. The other finds the back of your head, a silent possessiveness sneaking into the hold.

You test the waters by lifting as far up as you can, almost to the point his cock slips from your mouth, only to find your boyfriend’s firm hand guiding you back down. The please hum budding in your throat makes both his hands squeeze gently in acknowledgment.

A tight fist helps him along, your thumb working along the thick vein webbed on the side of Seungcheol’s cock. Each smoky rasp of his voice lulls you further down. Every praise and sigh whispering across your spine, heating your core. 

He bucks when your hand disappears and you try to force the last inches across your tongue. Your face is a wet mess of spit, cum, and tears. Eyes round as you watch Seungcheol’s mouth twist in pleasure when you suck him deep, nose dusting against his pelvis. 

The blood in your brain thickens to syrup as he holds you there, throat tight while you choke. 

“You’re perfect,” Seungcheol groans through a lazy smile, eyes glazed. 

You come up for a quick breath before falling back down. The heat of his palms control your pace, gentle but firm. Not as deep as you can go but far enough you gag if you don’t focus. 

The next stroke leaves you scrambling when his cock pops out of your mouth to land on his stomach. A hand manages to catch him but Seungcheol’s own on your cheek keeps his cock just out of reach. 

"Stop," you keen, aching in your bones to get lost in the rhythm and taste again.

A thumb silences your protest, curling down on your tongue until you suck on it instead.

Seungcheol knows you’d do just about anything he asks right now. If he said he wanted to fuck your ass, you’d bend over and present yourself without reservation. If he told you to ride his thigh until you came you’d leave his pants soaked. If he wanted to paint your face with his spend... well, you'd probably beg him to before he gets the chance to say the words. It’s thrilling.

His hand not fucking your mouth moves to grabs his cock. Streaks of shine trail across your lips as he traces it around your mouth, his thumb still dug into your tongue to keep you from sucking him back in. Gurgled pleas fall apart as he slaps your cheek with his cock and leaves you covered in more traces of him.

“Gonna let me cum here?” Your boyfriend asks, prying your mouth open to give you another taste before pulling back again.

A tear washes down your cheek as you respond, hands wrapping around his wrists as if you can outmatch his strength and keep him in place.

“Please.” 

He can’t say no with the way you present your tongue. Flat and waiting.

You meet him halfway as he thrusts back home. Sloppy claps echo across the room as he fucks your throat until the end rushes him like a riptide.

His hips lift off the bed and into your mouth as he cums, the taste pulling desperate moan after moan out of your lungs. There's so much. Every hot rope flooding your mouth, excess pushed out the corners of your lips for you to collect later.

You keep going, even though your boyfriend is spent and twitches from each lap against his softening length. A pathetic whimper vibrates against his tip when you rub it against your swollen lips, glossing them in his cum, before you swallow him back down.

He loves you like this. Mesmerized by his cock, so desperate for his cum you can’t help yourself. Seuncheol knows if he pushes you off there's a very real chance you’ll cry so he happily lets you continue despite the discomfort. The thickness of his cum spreading across his spent cock used to be uncomfortable as you held it in your mouth. But a late night with you bent over his lap made him privy to your perversions. How you came that much harder when he fucked you with his cum as lube before spilling another load inside you. If he can get hard again, he'll make good on it like he always does.

But he can tell by the way your eyes slip shut and your breathing slows that you’re far too tired to take him a second time. 

When you’re satisfied, content that you’ve taken all he’s got to give, Seungcheol hauls you back up to his chest. More adorning kisses tickle your face, each slow and pointed. You know how he feels just by the way he touches you, even if he hasn’t said it yet.

--

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