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#all of these images i already had saved on my phone
cordeliawhohung · 3 days
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Going off of him calling reader his wife, Ps! Gaz whose highest rated video with his favorite girl is a "Honeymoon" night concept where it's basically a really romantic lovemaking video.
Their natural chemistry is perfect and the romance feels real; they even joke around a little and take things slow.
And that vid is what confirms for the fans that there's something going on between them that goes beyond the cameras.
- 🦴
part 237423849 of kore writing a drabble/one shot when she probably shouldn't have. not edited because my brain is fried? idk save me, pornstar!gaz, save me
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It's late into the night when your phone screen illuminates your face.
A sleepless night quickly plagues you with a wandering mind that won't let go of the images that still haunt you from your last shoot with Kyle. The two of you have filmed countless times together, but there's something about this most recent one that refuses to let go of your mind. It overwhelms you so much that you've got your studio's porn site on your phone at nearly one in the morning. 
Usually, you hate watching the videos you perform in. It crosses an odd sort of boundary in your mind that makes you feel disgusted with yourself, but you can't help but watch the one you filmed with Kyle titled "Honeymoon Getaway." Before the video even starts, you notice the ratings. Tens of thousands of people have watched the video already, and it was only edited and published five days ago. The ratings are all positive, thousands of thumbs ups and bookmarks.
Your teeth sink into your lip once the video starts. Both you and Kyle are dressed in your "wedding" attire; a well fitted suit with the jacket removed for him, and a white slip that covers your bridal lingerie for you. It's... sensual. The way he kisses you. And really fucking weird watching it from a third person perspective. You vividly remember his breath against your face and the way his hand caressed your cheek, but it's not what you're looking for, so you skip ahead. 
When the video loads the next portion, Kyle's face is buried in your cunt. The angle they filmed it at is nothing compared to the view you had in real life. The way he kissed the side of your knee, keeping eye contact with you for as long as he could as he kissed all the way down your thigh until his tongue was on your clit… it’s a sensation that ghosts along the inside of your legs even as you lay there in bed. 
But the video? Fuck, it’s terrible. Focusing more on the side view, obscuring his pretty face with your thigh. At this point, you’re ready to take the camera and film everything from a first person point of view next time you film with Kyle. 
But that’s besides the point. You’re looking for something else. 
Once again, you skip ahead and the sound of your laughter emanates from the speakers on your phone. Kyle, who had been hovering over your body, had quickly rolled you on top of him, switching your spots. It was done so effortlessly, and you try your best not to gawk at the way his muscles flex as you straddle him.
"Kyle," your voice whines over the speakers.
"Better view this way," is all he responds.
You hate it. Hate the way he makes your stomach churn just from a video alone. It almost churns worse than it did when you were really filming with him, pretending to be love-struck newlyweds fucking one another in an expensive hotel room.
You skip forward again, a significant distance this time, and Kyle has you pinned to the bed on your back. With his hands underneath your knees, you're nearly kissing them as he ruts into you. You try not to pay too much attention as the camera pans to a view of your cunt sucking him in like the good little wife you pretended to be.
Luckily, you're not stuck watching it for too long before the film shoots over Kyle's shoulders, showcasing the way your tits bounce at his relentless pace. You grimace when they zoom in, but it's not much longer before you finally find what you were searching for.
"My sweet wife. I love you so fuckin' much."
You sit up straight the moment you find it, and your fingers are scrambling to rewind so you can hear him again. The breathlessness of his voice, the lilt in his tone. It feels like gold on your ears, yet it has your heart shredding into pieces in your chest. It feels real. Too real.
But it can't last forever.
You pause the video, ceasing the sound of your moans and Kyle's fake confession. Everything spins around you when you look up from the screen and at the darkness of your room. Lonely. So fucking lonely and cold. You shake your head as you look back at your phone, and you decide to make the terrible mistake of sleuthing through the comments.
The idea of it all, was finding something that would turn you off so that you could forget it all and go back to sleep. And there were plenty of disgusting comments:
>> need a submissive wife like this
>> great tits
>> too soft with her. you need to learn to put your bitch in place the first night.
It should have been enough. You should have stopped there, but you don't. You can't stop scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling. It's a vicious cycle that you can't stop, and you're stuck reading every single comment and speculation from anyone who still had living brain cells after jerking off to your video. Each and every one of them destroy you more than the last:
>> I feel like i'm ruining a special moment lmao
>> there's no way these two aren't together irl what the fuck
>> can't wait to see these two on OF together when they realize they don't want to fuck anyone else lol
>> nah, they really snuck in a whole crew on their actual honeymoon that's dedication
>> he sounds like he's about to cry when he says he loves her
You shut your phone off and fight the urge to toss it across the room as you slam yourself back against your mattress. All you want to do is sleep but your chest aches so furiously that it's all you can focus on. Everything feels so real with Kyle, and it's not fair that he's always out of your grasp. Always teasing you with the promise of fucking you off camera, of looking at you like you're the only woman in the world.
A tremble begins in your bottom lip as you shove your face into your pillow. Kyle Garrick is going to be the death of you, you're sure of it. Judging by the tears that soak your pillow that night, you know it's not going to be a kind death, either.
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dazeddoodles · 3 months
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Tips for drawing in The Owl House style?
I'm not very good at tutorials but I'll try to give some tips with this OLD drawing and the redraw I did of it two years later as examples
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The main thing to understand when drawing in the Owl House style is proportions (the main difference between these drawings)
You're gonna have to get used to drawing skinny bodies with long legs cause that's most TOH characters. A majority of the characters legs make up like half of their bodies. (Though it's more noticeable on the teens and women than the men)
You notice how their necks are too sort in the first picture? The length TOH characters necks vary depending on height, most likely for a more defined silhouette. Because the Hexide uniforms have hoods, most of the teenagers have long enough necks so their heads are visible not touching their hoods
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Although not all as shorter characters have shorter necks
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Meanwhile tall characters, like the adults, have longer necks. Eda (and Lilith) actually have long necks while Camila who's short has a shorter neck. Raine's is normal but still visible shorter than Eda's. Same with Luz.
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Should go without saying but the wider a character's body is the wider a character's neck should be (I see alot of people draw fat characters with skinny necks). More noticeable, most of the adult men have a broad build and therefore have much wider necks compared to the women and children
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Also, the witches ears are not completely pointed at the end, they're slightly rounded.
This could be easily missed, but some of the female characters (like Eda and Amity) have thicker outlines for their eyes, almost like their wearing mascara
If shading matters to you, most of the time the shading is limited to under the nose (unless they have a hooked nose), under the neck and SOMETIMES on the ears. Of course it depends on the scene and the setting.
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This last point doesn't matter at all but I've noticed alot of cartoons draw blush differently. Some do solid color horizontal ovals, some do a full gradient splotch across the nose, some just do lines.
In the Owl House when most characters blush its the gradient spots on each cheek, and sometimes they do the lines thing too. Or both.
The only exception (I think) is Amity (+Alador I guess) who blushes across her whole face sometimes and Raine who reapeatly blushes on their nose/across their nose. They both also do the line thing too.
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Okay I reached the photo limit
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mothladders · 7 months
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Realized I could use the autocrop feature on iPhones to copy/paste on Insta stories.
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elliemarchetti · 7 months
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PoC Angels Moodboard (inspired by this post)
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esyra · 6 months
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After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.
Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.
Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.
By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.
When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.
Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.
Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.
Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.
For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.
Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.
That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!
So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.
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People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.
Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."
They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.
Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.
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empty-movement · 5 months
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Chiho Saito’s 1999 Revolutionary Girl Utena Original Illustration Collection
IT’S HERE. IT’S DONE. IT’S FINISHED. NOW…IT’S YOURS. Happy Holidays, my friends.
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Vanna here! I have posted some already about this project, and the responses I got, public and otherwise, have been absolutely incredible. Y’all have been reblogging and hyping this before it even finished…I haven’t felt so encouraged about an Utena project since the musicals! (Yes, streams soon, I promise.) You can read the other post to get more details, and catch my post here with more details about the process if you’re interested. The long and short of it?
This is the first artbook I ever scanned. I did it in 2001. In Photoshop, using multiple scans per page that took hours to process. But it was 2001. A half megabyte file that was 1250px wide was considered extremely hardcore and impressive. That’s just always been the business I’m in when it comes to Utena art, you know? 
It’s now the latest artbook I’ve scanned, and so much of the process, and effort involved, is unchanged. What has changed, is the result. Welcome to your new desktop background. Your new phone background. Your new poster print. 
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What I’ve done here is attempt to create definitive digitized images of Chiho Saito’s work as offered by this book--I have removed the print moiré of the original scans, and used my literal decades of experience to try and tease out as much information from them as possible. Without being physically in front of the original artwork (which is a thing I’ve had the great fortune to get to do) this is The Most Chiho Saito you are ever going to get. I’ve tried my best to make sure there is a way to get it that works for everyone:
Do you just wanna scope 'em out? Look at some disaster gays? Grab your favorite one or two? This is the path for you! Check out the ‘compressed’ (not very) 10k ‘web friendly’ (not really) copy at the Bibliothèque, the media archiving wing of the Something Eternal forums at Empty Movement*. All the following links are also available from here. Do you want these copies? All of them? Don't just grab them individually, friend. This batch is 375MB and can be downloaded as a zip of the individual files here on our Google Drive.
Do you like digital archiving? Are you looking for a copy that preserves the archival quality of the effort but sits nice and comfy in a single file? This is for you. A minimally compressed 10k, 513MB version worked into a PDF is now up, shiny and chrome, on the Internet Archive. Do you like the idea of the minimal compression, but want the individual files in a zip? Yep I did that too, here's the drive link.
Are you looking to print these in a larger size? This is probably the only reason on Earth you’d ever want them, and yet a bunch of you are going to go straight for these. Here are the zero-compression JPG full size copies, most of them are 15k across, like simply a ridiculous size. Pick your fave and download it from our Google Drive! 
I am genuinely really proud of this work.** I was able to tease out so much new detail from these…her incredible layering techniques, the faintest brush of her highlights, and the full range of her delicate hand at whites and blacks… details commonly lost in digitization. I sincerely hope you find something here that you’re looking for, as an artist looking for inspiration, as a weeb looking for a desktop, as an archiver excited to see incredible 90s manga artwork saved forever in the digital realm. I feel like I have already said so much about them, and could keep going, but you know what? This work speaks for itself. Enjoy, use, explore, and definitely tell us what you think!
We love y’all. ~ Vanna & Yasha
* AHEM ASTERISK AHEM
You might be wondering what any of that is. Something Eternal? Biblewhatawhat??? EmptyMovement.com? You might even have done a double take at the word ‘forum.’ And you should!!!
I have a confession. This artbook was my ‘side project’ as I worked on this, *the main project.* For a couple years I’ve been banging around with a new domain, and originally I had other plans for it, but Elon Musk ruined my Twitter and Discord is well along on its way to enshittification, and well….we joke on the Discord a lot about ‘reject modernity, embrace forums’ and you know what? We’re right. So Yasha and I are putting our money where our mouths are once again, and doing something insane. We are launching, in 2023, a website forum. Obviously, this is not the official ‘launch’ per se, but I cannot announce the artbook without directing you to the forum, since it sits on the attached very cool gallery system. Oops! Told on myself. Another post more focused on the forum will be forthcoming, but if you are just that motivated to get in right away, you absolutely can! (This will help stagger new arrivals anyway, which is good for us!) If you would rather wait for the ‘official’ launch, by all means that’s coming, including a lengthy screed about how and why we’re doing this. In either case, remember: this is a couple weebs trying to make internet magic happen, we are not website developers by trade. Give us grace as we iron things out and grow into this cool new website thingie…hopefully along with some of you! :D
If you do join up, naturally, there is a thread about this project!
** If you like this kind of content, consider helping us pay for it! We do have a Patreon! If you’re wanting to use these in some public-facing distributive way, all we ask is for credit back to Empty Movement (ohtori.nu or emptymovement.com, either will work.) 
I would like to say ‘don’t just slap these files on RedBubble to get easy money’ but I know that saying this won’t effectively prevent it. Y’all that do that suck, but you’re not worth letting it rain on the rest of this parade. :)
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navybrat817 · 3 months
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Pencil You In
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you've been working too hard and need a break. Word Count: Over 1.3k Warnings: Fluff, crying, reader is tired, slight insecurities, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Partially inspired by an image the beautiful @bucksangel sent me and life stretching me a bit thin, here's a little ficlet. Lovelies, take breaks. You deserve them and you are more than enough! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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You slumped in your chair of your home office as you reread the sentence on the screen for what felt like the hundredth time. Weariness had already settled deep in your bones long before you looked over the document, the words blurring together the longer you stared. Blinking a few times didn’t help as you reached for your mug, only to remember that you had finished your extra helping of caffeine an hour ago. Begrudgingly, you set it down and huffed as if it was somehow the fault of the cup that it didn’t automatically fill itself.
“Almost done,” you whispered to yourself, straightening up so you could do one last readthrough.
It was a long week in what felt like a series of long weeks. Almost every minute of your schedule was accounted for lately and all you wanted to do was relax. People were depending on you though and you could relax over the weekend.
Hopefully.
“You should take a break.”
You didn’t turn around immediately at the sound of Bucky’s gentle voice, but you did manage a smile when you glanced over your shoulder a moment later. He didn’t return the smile, concern swirling in his blue irises. You were afraid to stare into the pool of his eyes for too long out of fear of drowning.
And, god, you were drowning. It would be so easy to reach out and take the lifeline that was his hand. To just admit that you need some time to rest because you were tired. Hadn’t you earned it? Didn’t you deserve a break after the hard work you put in?
But maybe you didn’t deserve it. What you did wasn’t as important as someone like Bucky. You firmly shut the door on that thought before the words could make their way out of your mouth. If he could’ve read your mind and known you thought that, it would’ve disappointed him. Not in you, but whoever made you decide that what you did wasn’t enough.
Because you were always expected to do and be more.
“I will in a few minutes,” you said.
He let out a heavy sigh as he crossed his arms, making you tear your gaze away. You didn’t comment on his disheveled hair, like he kept running a hand through it. Likely because he worried about you stretching yourself too thin. “That was what you said a few minutes ago,” he reminded you, his voice light instead of accusatory.
You shut your eyes in the hopes that the tears wouldn’t come and took a breath. “I really will this time,” you promised, giving the document one last readthrough once you got your emotions under control.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.
If you wouldn’t take a break for your own sake, you had to do it for Bucky.
“Okay. I think that’s at a good stopping point,” you said, making you saved it before you closed it out. If you lost all of that after everything you put into it so far, you would’ve lost it. Before you could move to the next task on your list though, an alert popped up on your screen. Your heart dropped to your stomach because you didn’t remember scheduling anything else today. You didn’t have the mental or emotional capacity for more. “What is this?” You mumbled before you opened it.
Reading the subject line, you did a double take.
CUDDLE WITH BUCKY
You covered your mouth to smother your giggles. “I don’t remember scheduling this meeting.”
“It’s a good thing I remembered, baby,” he said as you spun around in your chair, sauntering over to you with a smirk as you tried not to laugh again. “It’s a mandatory meeting in our bed. No rescheduling. And I expect it to go the full hour. Maybe longer.”
“How did you manage to set up an alert on my computer?” You asked as he grasped your hands and helped you to your feet, having to steady yourself a bit when your head spun.
At least you remembered to eat. Well, that wasn’t technically true. Bucky brought you your meal earlier because he was the best boyfriend you could ask for.
“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he winked before he brought a palm to your cheek, his gaze shifting to something more serious. “But it seemed to get your attention.”
Your cheeks burned as you averted your gaze. “I wasn’t…” you trailed off, an apology on the tip of your tongue. Had you neglected him this past week? Or the ones before that?
Did he think you were a bad girlfriend?
Bucky slid his hand to your chin so you’d look at him again. “Hey,” he whispered when your lower lip trembled. “I didn’t mean anything by that and I’m not upset with you. I don’t think I could ever be upset with you. But, baby, you’ve been working your ass off even more than usual. I’m so fucking proud of you, but you need to take a real break.”
Your eyes burned, but no tears surfaced as he searched your gaze. “But-”
“What is it you always tell me about work?”
“That it’ll be there tomorrow, but we may not be” you answered, sighing. He was right. You couldn’t let work and expectations others set for you take control of your life. “I told you that the last time you ran yourself ragged with missions.”
He brought his mouth to your forehead to kiss it, his scruff tickling your skin. “And now I’m returning the favor,” he said against your skin. “So, come to bed. Lay with me. Just…”
“Be present,” you finished.
No phones. No work. No outside forces interfering. Just the pleasure of being with each other.
“Exactly,” he said, tugging you by the hand. “C’mon. We’re both late for our meeting.”
“Yes, Sir,” you teased, smiling when he groaned.
“This is a cuddle meeting, but it’ll turn into gently fucking you to sleep if you keep talking like that,” he warned you, pulling you to bed a bit faster.
“You say that like that’s a bad thing,” you smiled, gasping as he gently pushed you onto the mattress.
He braced a hand on each side of your head as he leaned down, his breath fanning your face when you whimpered. “Sex after we cuddle,” he breathed, sending a shiver down your spine. “Then we can cuddle again.”
You leaned up to brush your lips against his. “Deal,” you agreed.
Once he maneuvered you to the middle of the bed, his large body spooning yours, you couldn’t stop the tears that came. You bit your lip so he wouldn’t hear your soft sobs, but he must’ve sensed them as he grazed his nose along your neck affectionately and pulled you closer in his arms. You didn’t realize just how much you needed to be held until then.
It was as if all the stress faded away.
“I really am proud of you. Hardest working woman I know and always taking care of me,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your pulse as more tears hit the pillow.
“Because I love you, Bucky,” you whispered. Who wouldn’t want to take care of someone as amazing as James Buchanan Barnes?
“And I love you, too. So much,” he swore to you, turning you in his arms so he could kiss the tears away. The first kiss lingered on your cheek as he let out a shuddering breath. The sight of you crying likely broke his heart, but he didn’t say anything about it for your sake. “So let me be your personal hero today, okay? Let me take care of you and show that you’re more than enough.”
The words were so heartfelt and touching that you were surprised you didn’t melt on the spot. “You already are,” you promised before his lips met yours.
And he could pencil himself in for cuddles and more whenever he wanted.
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I'll say it again, lovelies, you deserve breaks and you are more than enough. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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0sbrain · 10 months
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here's a list of mozilla add-ons for all of you tumblrinas out there to have a better internet experience
also, if you like my post, please reblog it. Tumblr hates links but i had to put them so you adhd bitches actually download them <3 i know because i am also adhd bitches
BASIC STUFF:
AdGuard AdBlocker / uBlock Origin : adguard is a basic adblock and with origin you can also block any other element you want. for example i got rid of the shop menu on tumblr
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Privacy Badger : this add on will block trackers. if an element contains a tracker it will give you the option to use it or not
Shinigami Eyes: this will highlight transphobic and trans friendly users and sites using different colors by using a moderated database. perfect to avoid terfs on any social media. i will explain how to use this and other add-ons on android as well under the read more cut
THINGS YOU TUMBLINAS WANT:
Xkit: the best tumblr related add on. with many customizable options, xkit not only enhances your experience from a visual standpoint, but provides some much needed accessibility tools
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bonus: if you are into tf2 and wanna be a cool cat, you can also get the old version to add cool reblog icons
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AO3 enhancer: some basic enhancements including reading time and the ability to block authors and tags
YOUTUBE
Return of the YouTube Dislike : pretty self explanatory
Youtube non-stop: gets rid of the annoying "Video paused. Continue watching?" popup when you have a video in the background
SponsorBlock: gives you options to skip either automatically or manually sponsors, videoclip non music sectors and discloses other type of sponsorships/paid partnerships
Enhancer for YouTube: adds some useful options such as custom play speed, let's you play videos in a window and most important of all, it allows you to make the youtube interface as ugly as your heart desires. I can't show a full image of what it looks like because i've been told its eye strainy and i want this post to be accessible but look at this <3
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PocketTube: allows you to organize your subscriptions into groups
YouTube Comment Search: what it says
FINDING STUFF
WayBack Machine: you probably know about this site and definitely should get the add on. this allows you to save pages and access older versions with the click of a button. while you can search wayback using web archives, please get this one as well as it allows you to easily save pages and contribute to the archive.
Web Archives: it allows you to search through multiple archives and search engines including WayBack Machine, Google, Yandex and more.
Search by Image: allows you to reverse image search using multiple search engines (in my experience yandex tends to yield the best results)
Image Search Options: similar to the last one
this next section is pretty niche but... STEAM AND STEAM TRADING
SteamDB: adds some interesting and useful statistics
Augmented Steam: useful info specially for browsing and buying games
TF2 Trade Helper: an absolute godsend, lets you add items in bundles, keeps track of your keys and metal and your recent trades, displays links to the backpack tf page next to users profiles and more. look it tells me how much moneys i have and adds metal to trades without clicking one by one oh may god
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IN CONCLUSION: oooooh you want to change to firefox so badly, you want to delete chrome and all the chrome clones that are actually just spyware and use firefox
HOW TO USE MOZILLA ADD-ONS ON YOUR PHONE
if you already use firefox on android, you'll know there are certain add-ons compatible with the app, some of them even being made just for the mobile version such as Video Background Play FIx. while most of them are pretty useful, some more specific ones aren't available on this version of the browser, but there's a way of getting some of them to work
you need to download the firefox nightly app, which is basically the same as the regular firefox browser but with the ability of activating developer mode. you can find how to do that here. once you've enabled it, you need to create a collection with all the add ons you want. i wouldn't recommend adding extensions if the creators haven't talked about phone compatibility, but XKit and Shinigami Eyes should work
also, don't tell the government this secret skater move, but you can try using both the regular firefox browser and nightly so you can have youtube videos in a floating box while you browse social media.
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see? i can block this terf while Rick Rolling the people following this tutorial. isn't that tubular?
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roosterforme · 7 months
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How You Play the Game Part 2 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: When Bradley doesn't hear from you after the first game, he thinks that's it. But you got his heart pounding and made him smile, and he wants to see you again. The realization that maybe something that perfect should be left as a one night stand hits him hard, but he wants to know if there could be more.
Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst and smut (18+)
Length: 5600 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger
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Bradley was laying in bed on Saturday morning with the New York times app open on his phone, scrolling to find your article. When his eyes settled on your name below the title, he tapped on it. The app took him to your full biography and a picture of you in front of Wrigley Field. 
You even looked beautiful in your stock photo image. He was tempted to save it to his photo gallery, but instead he skimmed your bio. You'd lived all over the country and played every sport imaginable as a child. You had graduated first in your class from Syracuse University, and you were undefeated at sports trivia.
The smile on his lips grew as he read the article that you must have submitted before your deadline last night. Your writing style was fun and entertaining, and you had even mentioned the comment he made about the catcher for the Angels. Bradley groaned and tossed his phone aside. He wanted to see you again.
But as he got out of bed and headed for his bathroom, he reminded himself that last night had one night stand written all over it. You were in California for work. You both said that hooking up like that wasn't something you normally did. He was sure you just did it for a bit of fun. Bradley was an idiot for catching feelings after a few hours with you, but it felt like he already knew you. Talking to you in person felt like reading your articles, because your writing matched your personality so well. Witty, intelligent, funny and charming.
"Chill the fuck out," Bradley told himself in the bathroom mirror. "It's done."
Then he spent the day trying to think about anything that wasn't sports related. He even took a ten mile run up along the beach to kill some time. And when Nat asked him if he was going to the Hard Deck, he decided that would help. 
But everyone there was wearing Padres gear and talking about that game one victory. And Bradley swallowed hard when he saw that Shannon was working behind the bar. He hadn't thought about her much recently, and she definitely hadn't crossed his mind at all when he'd been with you. But nevertheless, Bradley smiled when she greeted him.
"Hey, Rooster," she said with that grin that he was so used to. And she poured him a beer before he even asked for one. "You think you'll stick around for last call?" 
He watched her hand as she slid the beer across the bartop. "I'll let you know?" he asked, barely able to meet her eyes. 
"Sounds good. I'll start a tab for you."
He just nodded and turned to find the other aviators. Sleeping with Shannon tonight might help Bradley get you off his mind. But did he want to? He kind of liked the way warm thoughts of your voice and your smile kept bubbling to the surface. He could hear you asking him if he'd write back to a text from you. Honestly, he had been low key hoping you'd contact him today, and then he could have proven that he'd write back immediately, just like he promised. 
But he'd heard nothing. No text. No call. You hadn't done anything with his phone number. 
"What's your problem?" Nat asked, pinching his arm until he snapped out of it. "I asked you three times if you wanted to play pool with me."
"I'm not in the mood," he groaned, rubbing his arm as the TV screen caught his attention. They were playing World Series highlights and talking about tomorrow night's game. 
"Why are you pouting?"
He rolled his eyes. "Nat, I'm not pouting."
"You are. Is this because Bagman is flirting with Shannon?"
Bradley glanced over his shoulder and saw that Nat was correct. Jake was leaning on the bar, trying his hardest to get Shannon to smile. "Nah. I told you, that's just casual. Doesn't mean anything." He sipped his beer.
"Well whatever is bothering you, either tell me about it or get over it, because I want to beat Javy and Reuben at pool for once."
Bradley closed his eyes and told her, "I met someone at the game last night."
"No!" she gasped. "Tell me everything."
After he hesitated for a beat, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on your name in the NYT app before handing it to her. He watched Nat as she skimmed the screen and examined your photo.
"Oh! You met her? Oh, shit....you hooked up with her!"
"Yeah," he grunted, glad that his best friend didn't need much help to figure out exactly what was going on with him. She never did. 
"You like her! Why can I so easily picture you happily married to a sports writer? You could have six kids, and each one would play a different sport. One would play softball, one would be a kickass hockey player, one would play soccer, you'd probably have a ballerina-"
"Nat," he said, cutting her off with a laugh. "I'm not going to see her again. I gave her my number, but I haven't heard from her." He turned back to the bar to find that Shannon was alone again. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if he stayed until last call.
"Bradley. She's probably covering game two! You could go back to Petco Park tomorrow."
"Yeah," he grunted. "She's definitely covering game two. She told me she was. Right after I gave her my number which she hasn't used. It was just a hookup, Nat."
"I'll buy you a ticket," she said, fishing out her own phone. "An early Christmas present."
"Don't you dare. The resale price is up to almost a thousand bucks for the nosebleed seats."
She sighed and said, "Fine. But you should still think about going."
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After you spent most of your weekend in your hotel room doing research and writing, you decided to take a few hours off on Sunday afternoon. And it was during this time, when you went for a walk through Balboa Park, that you let yourself accept the fact that you'd been working like a maniac all weekend to try to keep your mind off of Bradley.  
Your hotel room smelled like his cologne or aftershave or maybe his laundry detergent. It was nice. Kind of comforting. You wanted to lay in bed with him until you smelled like it, too. But on Saturday morning, when you had thrown away the rogue condom wrapper, you decided it was better to throw away his phone number, too. You tried to rip that sheet out of your notebook since you no longer needed those stats, but you couldn't do it. Instead it was tucked away with your other work items, and you hoped you wouldn't cave and contact him.
After you took a shower, you grabbed your bag and your media pass and headed out early so you would have time to get some food when you got there. You liked that the ballparks usually served up local treats, and you'd get there in time to actually enjoy some fish tacos or a poke bowl tonight. You even thought about grabbing a local beer and drinking it on the main concourse before heading up to the box. You decided to go up and set down your computer and then find the beer cart.
But when you approached the narrow stairs that would take you up to the press box, you froze.
"Ace."
He was standing there, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, an earnest look on his handsome face.
"Bradley," you gasped as your heart thudded with excitement. "What are you doing here? Did you win another contest?"
"No," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I bought a ticket."
You knew the tickets were reselling at a premium price, and as he pushed away from the wall and dropped his arms to his sides, you asked, "Really? You're that much of a Padres fan?"
He shrugged and kind of shook his head, but your breath caught in your throat when he said, "You never texted me, Ace. I haven't stopped thinking about you for a single second, but you didn't text or call me."
He was close enough now that you could smell him, and you almost whimpered as your eyes fluttered closed. "You really wanted me to use your number?" you asked, meeting his eyes once again.
"Of course. That's why I wrote it down," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Shit, I shouldn't have come here to see you." He was blushing profusely and looking at the floor. "You wanted that to be a one time thing, didn't you?" he asked, glancing up at your eyes with a slight grimace on his face. 
Well now you weren't so sure. You thought he had just written his number down as a tactic. It wouldn't have been the first time you had a guy see how far he could get you to go while making you feel like you had some sort of safety net. Making you think he was really into you. But maybe Bradley actually was?  
"Bradley, I-"
"I'm sorry," he muttered. "In an effort to not completely ruin the perfection of Friday night in my mind, I'm gonna go."
You watched him turn, and he made it about ten steps before you ran to him, reaching for his bicep. "Bradley, wait." When he stopped, you bumped into him, but he steadied you. You swallowed hard. He was so attractive, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about him all weekend. Inviting him back to your hotel room again had been a fun fantasy you'd indulged in since late Friday night. "Do you want to sit with me again? In the box?"
He looked surprised now. "Yeah."
"Okay." You linked your fingers with his and led him back to the stairs. He still looked a little tentative as you added, "Let's go."
When you used your card to open the door, you made it halfway up the stairs before you paused and turned to look at him. He was one step below you, and your height just about matched up with his. He still looked a little surprised, but there was a soft smile on his lips now, and you wrapped your fingers a little tighter around his.
"To be clear, did you buy a one thousand dollar ticket so you could stand at the bottom of these stairs and try to see me again tonight?"
"Yes," he said clearly and without hesitation. You shook your fingers free from his and wrapped both of your hands around the back of his neck before leaning in to kiss him. Your nose brushed along the side of his as you felt the prickle of his mustache against your skin. And then his hands were on your waist as he welcomed you into his arms. He parted his lips for you as you dragged your fingers up into his hair. Then he broke the kiss long enough to rasp, "I like you, Ace."
You kissed his lips once more before running your lips along his mustache. He squeezed your waist a little tighter as the door opened behind him. When you saw that it was Raya, another sports writer, you took Bradley by the hand again and led him all the way into the box.
"Don't get into any trouble today," you whispered, pushing him down into the same stool he had occupied on Friday night. "I got you in with my pass."
"I'll be so good," he promised, looking up at you with eyes far too innocent for the rest of his smirking face. And somehow you doubted it.
-------------------------
Bradley couldn't keep his hands off you as you worked. He kept finding ways to trace little circles along your back. The pace of game two seemed to be a lot faster as the Angels got into a better groove against the Padres, and you were frantically keeping your stats as you typed away. 
"You want something else to eat?" he asked you between innings as you scribbled out some notes that he supposed must have made sense to you.
"Yes, please," you said, turning to smile at him. You watched Bradley stand, and he headed to the table lined with food. You seemed surprised that he had been sincere when he said he wanted you to text him. Yeah, he'd been joking around a little bit when he wrote his number down in your notebook, but he was kind of crushed when he hadn't heard from you. 
When Bradley turned to take the food back to that little spot you and he were sharing in the last row, he saw the reporter in front of you turn around and start giving you a hard time.
"You gonna bring your boyfriend to each game, New York?"
Bradley wanted to punch this asshole in the face, because who even made comments like that? But instead he watched you sigh dramatically and say, "At least I can get laid, Quincy. You're such a hater. Now turn around, I'm busy."
But Bradley did shoot Quincy a glare for good measure, and he didn't take his eyes off him until he had turned around. "More food," Bradley told you, setting the plate down where you could reach it without it being in your way. Then he settled onto his stool and draped his arm across the back of yours while you picked at the food. 
You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Thanks," just as the Padres hit a home run. Bradley desperately wanted to cheer, but nobody cheered in the press box, apparently. So he sat quietly while you updated your stat sheet and ate a taco. 
"Which team do you cheer for, Ace?" he asked, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. "You know, when you're not working and allowed to cheer."
Your lips parted in silence before you pressed them together, and then you said, "I never tell anyone my favorite teams."
Bradley examined your face for a beat. "You want to tell me, don't you?"
"Oh my god," you moaned, head tipped back. "Yeah, I actually do."
As Bradley shook from the laughter he was trying to hold in, you leaned in close to him. "You can tell me," he said, grinning. "I'll keep your secret."
You let your palm come to rest on his abs before sliding it along to his waist as you pressed your lips to his ear. "You can't tell anyone. Ever."
The feel of your lips on him, about to divulge something so important to your career had him pulling you closer. You laughed softly as your lips bumped his ear, and Bradley stifled a moan. 
"I won't say a word about it," he promised.
"My favorite team is the Toronto Blue Jays."
That was about to become Bradley's favorite team, too. Maybe he could go to a game with you when you were allowed to cheer. 
"Do you know what their mascot is named?" you asked as you eased yourself back into your seat. When he shook his head, you picked up your pencil and wrote in the margin of your stat sheet.
Ace.
Bradley laughed again. You had him smiling or laughing nonstop right now, and he couldn't believe it was already the eighth inning. It was getting late in the game now, but you were still writing. 
Do you want to come back to my hotel with me again?
And then he realized that this was the first time he'd thought about fucking you all day. 
Bradley leaned in close and kissed your neck a few times before he said, "Only if you save my number in your phone." Because as much as he'd been thinking yesterday about how good it felt to have sex with you, he wanted to hear from you when it wasn't a game day. He wanted to keep talking to you.
During the break at the end of the inning, you pulled your phone out and made a show of flipping to the previous page in your notebook and entering his phone number into your contacts list. Then you turned your phone screen away from him and typed something out, and he just waited to feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. When he did, he looked at his messages and saw that you had sent him a photo of you with the Toronto Blue Jays mascot. And you captioned it with: Be honest, which Ace do you think is cuter?
He typed out to you, I'm not sure if you knew this, but I'm wildly attracted to blue feathers.
When you looked at your phone again, your laughter was loud enough to have Quincy turning around and earning another glare from Bradley. And just as the ninth inning started, you texted Bradley one more time. I hope you replaced your wallet condom, Boy Scout Bradley. 
Truthfully, he had not. Getting lucky hadn't been his primary thought when he was just wanting to see you again. He muttered, "We're gonna need more than one, Ace."
And as your hand came to rest on his thigh, you tapped your lips with your pencil eraser. "I saw them for sale in the hotel lobby."
---------------------------
You couldn't remember feeling this way ever before. At least not with someone you barely knew. Bradley had your bag on his shoulder and he was practically carrying you across the parking lot as you laughed. You liked him a lot. He came back to see you again today. He was so funny and sweet, and you should have texted him on Saturday. 
"You seem very eager," you whispered against his cheek as you kissed him at the crosswalk. You were running your hands all over his shoulders and dipping your hands inside his Padres jersey. 
He picked you up to carry you across the street with the crowd of other pedestrians. "I'm hoping you'll show me your blue feathers tonight," he rasped, making you laugh even more. 
"I knew you liked the other Ace better!"
He kissed your neck, and once he had you inside the hotel lobby, he said, "No, you're my favorite."
"Condoms," you whispered, pointing toward the small convenience shop next to the front desk. Bradley set you down and grabbed up all ten double packs of condoms and dumped them in front of the young guy who was working at the front desk.
"Is that all you needed, sir?"
Bradley pulled out his credit card and handed it to him, looking at you while he said, "Well no, that's not all I need." His gaze was openly needy as he looked at your face, lingering on your lips. You felt warm all over, and when Bradley had all twenty condoms in his hands again, you hooked your fingers though the belt loop of his jeans and pulled him toward the elevators. 
"Let's go, Boy Scout."
Bradley groaned as the elevator door opened and you pulled him inside. He stood before you with your computer bag, so many packs of condoms and an erection that you could plainly see behind his zipper. You giggled and ran your thumbnail up and down his zipper as you said, "You're adorable."
He swallowed hard as you led him out on the top floor and down the corridor toward your room. "Ace? Baby?"
"Yeah?" you asked, unlocking the door as he stood behind you and let you feel him pressed to your lower back.
"Maybe you should finish writing your article first? I don't want you to get too close to your deadline again."
You opened the door and backed into the room, pulling him in with you. "No," you whispered before you kissed him hard. "I want you right now."
You grabbed one of the double packs of condoms from his hands, and he let the rest of them fall to the floor. The smile that you and he shared had your tummy doing somersaults as he gently set down your computer bag. You continued to back up slowly to the bed as he followed you. When you toed off your shoes, you watched him pause to pull his off as well. And then you were holding up the condoms and walking backwards across the bed on your knees until you reached the middle. 
Bradley was frozen, just staring at you with a crooked smile on his face and his hands on his zipper. "I'm waiting," you whispered. And then you weren't waiting anymore at all, because Bradley was on top of you, wrapping his arms around you as his weight pushed you down into the bedding.
You moaned into his kisses as you ran your fingers through his hair. He already felt, smelled and sounded familiar to you. He tugged on your shirt until he was kissing you through your bra.
"You don't taste like beer today," he murmured against your skin, teasing you with his mustache. 
"No, you managed not to spill," you replied, pulling your own shirt off as he unhooked your bra. His mouth was all over your breasts once he tossed your bra on the floor, and you were arching your back up against him. "You feel good."
He groaned into your skin while you felt him grind against your core through way too much fabric. "Ace." His hands were cupping your breasts as he let his lips drift down your belly until he was kissing along the top of your jeans. You unbuttoned and unzipped your pants and let him pull them down your legs. And then he was still fully clothed, giving you head just like two nights ago.
He was good at it, too. But when you started to touch your own breasts, he got distracted, lips grazing your clit as he watched you. When he lazily brought the pad of his thumb up along your slit and started teasing you, the sounds you made were so needy. You thought he could probably get you off like this if you wanted him to. 
But you sat up and made quick work of his jersey buttons while he slipped his index finger inside you. "Bradley," you moaned softly as he kissed your neck and finger fucked you. He just seemed to want to make you feel good, and your hands stalled as you pushed his jersey down off both of his shoulders. Your palms came to rest on his warm biceps, and you could feel his arm muscles working as he fingered you. 
"Tell me what you want, Ace," he grunted, stroking your clit with his thumb. He'd said that on Friday as well. 
"I want you naked and inside me."
He let you undress him then, and you took his cock in both of your hands. You watched him roll onto his back as you teased him with your fingers, running your nails down along his thighs. The veins in his neck were strained, and his cheeks were flushed as his eyes darted from your face down to your hands and back up. He was glorious. Huge everywhere. Tan and muscular and perfect. So hard and eager to please. 
When you straddled his hips and planted your hands on his shoulders, he pulled you to him, kissing your lips until you were laying flat on him. His length was gliding through your soaked pussy, and you moaned at the feel of him rubbing slowly against your clit. You mumbled his name, but he just kissed your lips harder, wrapping those big hands around your hips. 
With each little movement of your hips grinding against him, you were closer to fucking him, so you gasped, "Condom." 
"Mmhmm," he hummed, one big hand at the middle of your back while he reached blindly around the bedding in search of the small package. His lips were still soft and perfect on yours, unhurried as he handed you the condoms. You pressed your forehead to his as you fumbled trying to open one of them, and then you were sitting up between his legs, rolling it down his length, ready to go.
You guided yourself down around his cock, and he felt incredible, just like before. "Oh god," you whined softly, taking every inch of him while he grasped your thighs hard. 
"So pretty," he whispered, watching you fucking him. Soon you were riding him fast and rough, bracing your hands on his abs. You couldn't even talk or formulate words as you whimpered, because he was hitting that sweet spot inside you. With every movement you were getting closer, and Bradley looked like he was struggling to keep it together. 
You took his right hand, and brought it up to your mouth, sucking on his index and middle fingers to get them wet. "Baby, it feels too good," he groaned, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. Then you guided his hand down to your clit, and you started cumming almost instantly. You held onto his wrist, rubbing your clit against his fingers with each stroke of your pussy along his cock.
Loud, incoherent noises filled the room as you came, riding him without finesse, head tipped back. And then Bradley was sitting up, right arm wrapped around your waist while he braced himself with his left palm on the bed. He whispered praise against your skin, pausing to kiss you as he thrust his hips up to fuck you as you came down from your high. "You're so hot. So good."
He sucked on your neck before his movements became jerky, and then he was chanting Ace! as he came too. He collapsed back against the bed with you held tightly to his chest, and you ran your fingers along his sweaty neck and up to stroke his jaw.
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Bradley had nearly fallen asleep with your warm body draped over his and his soft cock still buried inside you. And then your phone alarm went off, and you were instantly scrambling to find your jeans amongst the pile of clothing on the floor.
"Shit," you muttered, glancing at him as you silenced your phone and checked the time. "I need to finish writing and submit my piece."
Bradley nodded and rolled onto his side and reached for a tissue to take care of the used condom. The last thing he wanted to do was go home now, but you had work to do, and he needed to be on base in the morning. He stood as you scooped his jersey up off the floor, but instead of handing it to him, you slipped it on. It fit you like a cute, little dress. 
"My article is almost done," you murmured, retrieving your bag from near the door where he had set it down earlier. He smiled as you stepped around all the other packs of condoms. "I just need to add in my stats and proofread everything."
"Okay," he whispered, unwilling to break the spell that he felt like he was under when he was in your presence. "I can head out." He started to reach for his undershirt and boxer briefs, figuring you could just keep his jersey if you wanted to wear it. 
But Bradley found himself wanting to ask if he could see you again. You saved his phone number this time, and while you were going up to Los Angeles for game three, he was hoping you'd be back in San Diego again. He was almost pissed now that the Padres were up two games to none in the World Series, because the more games that these two teams played, the longer you'd be in California. And LA was a hell of a lot closer to San Diego than New York City was.
As he held his clothes in his hand, you bit your lip and looked at him while your computer booted up. "You can stay. If you want?"
He froze, trying to process what you meant. "Stay?"
"Yeah," you whispered, taking him by the hand. "While I write."
He instantly dropped everything back to the floor as you pulled him to the desk chair. He sat down and then you sat on his naked thigh, entering your impressively long password and pulling up your mostly completed article. You flipped through your notebook to your stats sheet, and Bradley let his hand come to rest on your leg. 
"You wanna help me?" you asked, typing away. "Tell me when Soto was on third."
Bradley skimmed the sheet and found the information. "Bottom of the sixth inning. Right before Grisham hit a double." He leaned in and kissed your neck as you murmured thanks. 
"And when did Hill replace Darvish?"
Bradley read your sloppy notes and smiled. "Halfway through the seventh inning."
"Perfect," you whispered, and Bradley held you quietly as you scrolled to the top of your article and read it out loud. Your voice was captivating, and you somehow made the game he had seen in person even more interesting. He chuckled at the part where you mentioned how the Angels' coach had tripped coming out of the bullpen, and you smiled at him over your shoulder before you finished reading. 
"Damn, Ace," he muttered as you saved it one last time and logged in to submit the article. "That was brilliant." Bradley was getting hard again. Some sort of combination of what you said and how you said it turned him on. 
You closed your computer and laughed softly, nudging his erection with your knee as you turned in his arms. You glanced down at his cock, standing at attention for you, and Bradley could feel himself blushing. "Oh," you gasped, running your fingernails along his length as you grinned. "Eager again."
Bradley groaned and let his head tip back as you kissed his neck. "I think I'm always going to be eager for you. Talking about sports and wearing my Padres jersey are certainly helping."
Your laughter was his undoing as your lips met his warm cheek, and then Bradley watched your face as your pussy cradled his cock so that he was gently throbbing against your clit. "How many more condoms do we have?" you asked, fingers in his chest hair. 
"Nineteen," he replied, voice deep and raspy with need. 
"I'll be right back," you promised, kissing his lips before you stood and grabbed the unused condom from the bed. His jersey was open, offering him a peek here and there of your tits and belly as you moved. Then you were rolling this condom into place and straddling his hips on the chair.
Bradley pulled the jersey open wider so he could watch you sink around his cock. You felt like perfection, and the way your body looked as you took him was making him dizzy.
"You know," you sighed as he bottomed out inside you, "if the Angels start a different pitcher for game three, it could really throw off the Padres plans."
"Yeah?" he asked, stroking the soft skin of your waist as you rolled your hips. "Tell me more."
"Mmm, well, they've been following the same plan the whole season, right?" you asked, your lips grazing his as you spoke. 
"Yeah, they have," Bradley agreed, already ridiculously close as you fed him this brand of dirty talk.
"I think they should try something new and start Hermans instead," you whined, kissing him hard as you rode him.
"Are you trying to turn me on right now, Ace?"
"Yeah," you gasped as you fucked him harder. "Is it working?"
"You know it is, Baby," he groaned, grinding his hips up to meet yours. "Fuck, you already know how to make me wild."
Then you were gasping out pitching stats, your voice breaking as you rode him so well. Bradley was barely keeping it together, and then your fingers were in his hair, tugging at the roots. He knew what to do now; he licked his fingers and brought them to your tight clit, and your eyes went wide. 
"Yes!" you gasped, seemingly surprised that he had you cumming almost instantly. And the sight of your tits bouncing in his face was the last thing he saw before he sucked on your nipples and came hard.
His face was buried in the crook of your neck as his breathing evened out. He was trying to focus on your words, because they sounded very important. "If the Padres sweep the Angels, then I won't be back in San Diego. But if they go to a game six scenario, maybe we can see each other again?"
Yes, your words were very, very important. He wanted you to come back to San Diego, but he was determined to see you even if you didn't. "I could come up to LA. Get a ticket for game three. If you want."
You pulled away from him, and then Bradley was looking up into your surprised eyes. "Yeah?" you asked softly. 
"Sure, Ace," he mumbled, running his knuckles along the soft valley between your breasts. "I'd love to. But it's up to you."
Your voice was soft. "Okay."
Then Bradley kissed your lips and said what was on his mind. "We should keep doing this. Me and you. Until the World Series ends. Until you have to leave California."
He could feel your pussy squeeze his soft cock as you started kissing him and running your fingers through his hair. And a few minutes later, he had you in your hotel room bed, snuggling up with your back pressed to the front of his body as you both fell asleep. 
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Bradley is out there dropping a cool grand just to try to verify if that was actually a one night stand or not. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32
PART 3
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663 notes · View notes
kaeddehara · 1 year
Text
DIRTY PICTURES AT WORK — NSFW
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[ tighnari + cyno + al haitham ]
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♱ warnings — cursing + mild nsfw + bondage
♱ notes — minus kaveh :(( ; lowkey rushed because school is kicking my ass right now
| TIGHNARI |
tighnari is almost even on his phone even after working hours. he doesn’t see a need for it but nevertheless still keeps it on him. sometimes he’ll receive messages or emails and chooses to ignore them when he doesn’t even know who they’re from yet. but there are occasions when he does have a break and he’ll look to see if anything is urgent or needs his attention. but when he sees messages from you or specifically pictures, he can’t help but wonder what that could mean. he hastily opens up your messages only a reveal a couple pictures of you on his bed only covered with some very thin fabric he could only assume was a new set of lingerie you’d gotten to wear.
“i know you don’t check your phone much at work so we can have an even better time when you get home <3”
he’s more than happy he’s alone not only so he wouldn’t get caught, but also to cover the obvious blush lining his face. his long, pointed ears are probably flushed at the point too. his eyes scan the images you sent again and he can’t ignore the way his cock is hardening at the sight of your pretty body. he made sure to send you a message quickly complimenting you, already so anxious for your response. he made sure to save those pictures to his phone so he could go get rid of the problem you gave him in the restroom. trying to hard to keep his embarrassing, pathetic sounds to himself while stroking his pretty cock to the sight of you. all the while, he’s mumbling to himself about how he’s gonna treat you when he gets home <3.
| CYNO |
cyno actually doesn’t even use his phone. he won’t look at it unless you or someone else tells him to. chances are, he can’t even work it that well because of how often he’s not on it. so you when decide to send him some pictures of your cute tits only being cupped by a thin piece of fabric with a sweet message about how you miss him, he has no idea about it until you mention it. you’re all excited when he gets home and ask cyno how his day was and all those little questions you always do. it’s only until you ask if he saw the pictures you sent earlier that he gets confused and shakes his head no. you huff in annoyance but the second he goes to check right in front of you, you can’t help but smile at the shock on his face. he scans those pictures and message so hard you’d think he brain had stopped working for a minute or something. it isn’t too long before he throws his phone to the side and pushed you down against the nearest piece of furniture to have his way with you. making sure to cup your pretty tits while humming apologies and also some questions about why you’d send him that during work unless you’re just asking for it.
“you can’t even wait till i’m home is that it? you want me to get hard at work just so i can punish you?”
and you want nothing more than to being just a smile in that moment with cyno pressing his lips right against yours to keep you from responding so he can have you right now and make up for what he missed.
| AL-HAITHAM |
al haitham is always pretty tedious about how he goes about most things. work or just mundane acts he always does with precision and focus. when he does have some downtime however, most of it is actually spent messaging you or responding to emails that he may have gotten while on the job. hes very good about keeping his business personal and too himself and that makes no difference when you send him certain messages. at first, al haitham doesn’t know how to react whatsoever. he’s practically in awe of the dirty messages you sent along with those pictures of you freshly out of the shower in whatever sort of sensual position you want him to see you in.
“keep working hard and you’ll have a reward when you get home <3”
he deeply exhaled and tried to cover the blushing mess that was his face. it wasn’t long before his break was soon over and he had to get back to work. all the while, his mind would not stop thinking and imagining all the things he would do to you when he got home. maybe some punishment was due just because you thought sending him pictures like that when you knew he was working. he decided to respond to your message as to not leave you hanging, waiting for his answer.
“you’d look better with some rope wrapped around those wrists and thighs”
he knew he sounded so serious but also considered how much you enjoyed his serious tone he’d use when he meant something.
“why not show me when you get home kay?”
he had to turn his phone over at all the perverted thoughts filling his mind every second. all because you wanted to send him those pictures in the middle of his working ours WHILE there were others around. you were in for such a harsh punishment when he got home.
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mapileonxputellas · 6 months
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Beckham II: 1 New Beginning
Please find instagram aesthetic here.
Post here explains how I've wrote it, I think it's quite simple.
This is the first part of my new series and I hope you enjoy xx (3k words)
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“Do you ever think about how crazy it is that you’re an icon in Barcelona and yet your dad played for Real Madrid?”
“I try not to think about that. I think that bothers him more than me.”
“Does he have any Barcelona shirts?”
“Of course he does.”
…..
“David, how does it feel watching your daughter play for Barcelona?”
“It’s the best feeling in the world. I’m guessing you were expecting some kind of rivalry but I’ll always support my daughter.”
…..
Barcelona, February 2023.
One down, nine to go.
It was like clockwork in your brain. Training would finish, everyone else would rush to get back into the training room and get back to their everyday life. Yet here you were, on your own, just how you like it. You and the ball. Free kick after free kick after free kick. Ten in total, all from different areas, all with different aims but each one just as equally important in your brain.
Barcelona was a dream. You were here with the best players in the world but you hated letting anyone down. Every little mistake was over-analysed, picked at all because of who you were. At the weekend it was a wonder save which stopped one nestling in the top corner but that didn’t matter. It hadn’t gone in and therefore didn’t meet your expectations.
The expectations you put on yourself, multiplied by that moment four years ago.
You loved your father but many people probably didn’t understand that there wasn’t a gene for taking good free kicks.
Unbeknownst to you, all of this was about to change. “You’ve got a visitor.”
“If it’s another journalist, tell them I’m not interested.”
You couldn’t be bothered with whatever reply the press officer would tell you. It was the same every day. Someone wanted to speak to you, you said no. They came back the next day.
You’d think they’d get bored after four years of consistent turn aways but that was never the case. You did the press conferences, the interviews after games but a sit-down full-length interview was not something you felt like you could ever handle.
So you carried on, resetting the ball in the correct spot. Back to just you and the ball.
For February it was a sunny afternoon in Barcelona, the sun was still shining for the mid-afternoon with minimal wind. Perfect conditions to practice and as your teammates had pointed out you hadn’t needed any more persuasion to get that training vest on, your tattoos on full show. Along with football they were your biggest passion, your phone was full of tattoo inspiration and little doodles you did when you were bored, they were a big part of you and maybe the image you wanted to create for yourself.
You took inspiration from everything, football, the environment, your father. Growing up many would say you were already a carbon copy of him but the tattoos were the icing on the cake. Your mother may not have been as happy about them but they promised to accept all your passions and that included turning up every few months with a new collection of tattoos to show off.
…..
“Maria, is she copying you?”
“You’ll have to ask her. No of course not, I would say we take great inspiration from each other. We’ve got a few matching ones, I’ve done a few on her and she’s done the same to me. That’s kind of what started our friendship.”
“You both have ‘looks can be deceiving’ on your necks, is that true for her?”
“Depends on what you think of her. Maybe some find her scary but you have to find out if that’s true yourself.”
…..
You could hear someone approaching you, watching as you took the next kick nestling it into the bottom corner underneath the imaginary wall.
“Y/N, have you got five minutes?” The unmistakable voice of Sarina. Many people would love Serena Weigman to turn up at their training session, not you. Not now.
Shit. You almost didn’t want to turn around. Maybe if you stayed facing the other way she would leave. Leave you be in the bubble you’d created for yourself, nothing good could come out of this conversation.
But of course the Dutch woman wasn’t going to leave that easily, edging closer to you. “I only want to talk.”
“I gave you my answer a year ago.”
“Lots can change in a year. Five minutes. If you still want me to leave after, I’ll leave.”
Maybe it was worth hearing what she had to say. Nothing could change your mind anyway, you’d hear whatever she had to say and then she could leave.
You knew what she was here for and it didn’t surprise you what came out of her mouth next. “I want you back, I name my squad next week and I want you ready to play for us at the World Cup.”
“And I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“The fans are not that accepting, the players don’t deserve to be drawn into that drama because of me.”
“There’s always drama in football.” Maybe she had a point but off the back of the Euro’s success the lionesses have had nothing but positivity from the media and public. “We’ve lost Beth, we’ve lost Fran and I think the players would welcome your experience in that position. It’s your decision but I know deep down you want to prove people wrong and I want to give you that opportunity.”
“Some would say I don’t deserve that.”
“It will be different this time.”
“How?”
“It’s been four years, everything’s changed. We protect you guys, you have support systems in place, we have support systems. It’s not individuals anymore, it’s a team.”
“I made that decision to protect myself.” Almost four years ago you’d sent that letter, asking not to be selected for international duty again. They had no choice but to accept it and when Serena came into the role she approached you but you told her a tournament on home soil was not something you could mentally cope with. Not yet. “Why would now be different?”
“I’ve watched every game you’ve played in the last 18 months. I know you may not see a difference in yourself but I do, the interview after you lost to Lyon showed your spirit, your drive. I need players like you, it won’t be easy but I don’t want something that happened four years ago to stop you showing the world how talented you are.”
You were conflicted. Of course you’d love nothing more than to prove all those who bashed you before wrong, to make a difference on the world stage after winning every trophy you could with Barcelona. On the other hand it was just opening a can of worms you’d hidden all those years ago. Although you were only in Spain it felt like a different world, you turned your comments off on social media and they never came back on. Interviews were a no-go and your former friends were now distant acquaintances.
“Can I think about?”
“Of course you can. Like I said, the squad goes out on Tuesday so I need an answer by Monday. Any questions, I’m coming to the match on Sunday, maybe I can speak to you after?”
“Thank you.” With a soft squeeze to your shoulder she was off, except now you couldn’t focus knowing you were about to make a decision which would change everything.
…..
“You seem distracted.”
In hindsight it probably wasn’t the best idea to accept the dinner invite from Maria and Ingrid but you knew your best friends wouldn’t take no for an answer. The three of you along with Frido were sat at their dinner table, tucking into the tapas you’d ordered from your favourite restaurant and it wasn’t lost on any of them how your mind was elsewhere. Casually picking through your food was a total opposite to the way you usually devoured this.
“Y/N?”
You’d been debating on the way whether to speak to someone about it.
Maybe your dad? He’d gone through something similar but he was in Miami and would only just be getting up.
Your mum? She was the most rational option but she would never understand that pride of pulling on your national shirt.
Your therapist seemed the best option but the earliest session she had for non-emergencies was tomorrow.
“Y/N!” In your own little world you’d even forgot to answer their questions. “Are you alright?”
It could help speaking to them, couldn’t it? “I had a visitor after training. Sarina Weigman.”
“Shit man, I thought you said no.” Maria Leon was your best friend from the moment you stepped foot in that training room, you bonded over everything from tattoos to food. You’d been her wingman in getting with Ingrid and had a mutual understanding of each other’s situations with your respective national teams even if the circumstances were very different.
“She wants me back but I don’t know, this feels different from last year.” If Bonnie, your 5-year-old beagle, adopted 3 years ago to signify a new chapter in your life, wasn’t by your feet they would definitely be anxiously tapping the floor right now.
“They probably feel your absence more because they’ve lost other players.” Frido added some context. “Not that you wouldn’t have always walked into that team but now you definitely would. You’d be their main player.”
“I can see you’re considering it.” Ingrid pointed out. “When she came last year I could see you were like, definitely no, now you haven’t turned it down immediately.”
“There’s no right or way wrong to feel,” Maria tried to comfort me. “Only you can decide if you want to go back there.”
“I miss it.”
“Of course you do.” Ingrid agreed. “You wouldn’t watch all their games if you didn’t.”
“It’s just the fact that I’m comfortable here, I have been for so long and now I’m going to throw myself back into four years ago.” Four years ago when you’d been forced to move away from your club at the time in Chelsea and accept the fact that one mistake had changed everything. “Plus the media attention, no-one wants that in the lead up to the world cup.”
“They were your friends, I’m sure they’d understand.” Frido tried to make you see that side of things. “Shit happens in football but what happened to you when completely over the top of that.”
“I isolated them.” Of course you had friends in the squad at the time, in fact best friends. But as soon as you made the move to America you slowly distanced yourself from them as they did to you. You hated letting them down and completely understood that being associated to you meant unnecessary exposure where perhaps they would not want it.
“So you’ll make friends again.”
You’d changed as well, grown into a completely different person in that time. Your appearance and attitude on the pitch were a distinct opposite to the crippling shyness you had yet to shake off. “Maybe.”
“You will,” Maria assured you. “Plus I think Bonnie told me she wanted a sleepover with me.”
“Oh did she?”
“I’m not swaying you either way but if that’s what you want, I’ll support you all the way.”
“We all will.” Frido added wrapping her arms around you to bring you into her side. “We love you.”
“Thank you, I love you all too.”
“Speak to your dad, maybe even your mum. I’m sure they’d want to help.”
One of the funniest moments in your life had to be watching your teammates introduce themselves to your parents when they came out to watch your first match in the Blaugrana. Watching their nerves dissipate when they realised how down to earth, especially your mother was, when it came to their children. Of course their name brought so much extra attention to you but you couldn’t have asked for a better upbringing.
Maybe it was their words that made you do it but subconsciously you knew the best thing to do was to ring them. So as you got into bed that night, once you got back, Bonnie at your feet watching, you rang the number you’d had memorised for years.
“Hi baby.” His voice almost brought tears to your eyes. Although you tried to be as independent as possible, wanting to be your own person, you sometimes wished you could just go back to spending every night in his arms.
“Hi dad.”
“What’s wrong?” You hated how easily he could read you, how those two words were enough for him to know something was wrong.
“It’s nothing.”
“You know you can tell me anything.”
“I know dad.” Out with it. “Sarina Weigman came to visit me today, she wants me to go and join them in the next international break.”
“And what do you want?”
“I think I want to.”
“You think?”
“I just know that if I do I’m just going to be brought back to that moment.”
“Then you’ll go back to a moment where the referees made a terrible decision. Football fans are fickle you know that as much as I do but you’ve watched it back enough to know that nine times out of ten nothing happens. The commentator did you no favours, Phil didn’t stand by you as he should have and the media hung you out to dry.”
“I know.”
“But as awful as it was it made you the person you are today and your stronger now then you’ve ever been before. If you want to go back then you’ll make it work. I know you will.”
“Thanks dad, now how is…”
,,,,,
“How many times have you watched that tackle back?”
“Over a thousand times.”
“Do you think you should have been sent off?”
“Of course not.”
……
You loved Barcelona, from the moment you stepped through those doors 3 years ago you’d been welcomed in and never looked back. In 2019 you moved to America but your year out there was plagued with depression and homesickness resulting in a lack of game time, when Barcelona came calling it was a difficult decision with your family ties but they had a project, they had a good set up and you knew the onus wouldn’t just be on you. The first six months were still tough, working out Spanish football to both play with your teammates and counter the opposition but by the end of the season you felt at home for the first time in 2 years.
Your role this year had been heightened by the loss of one of your midfield partners in Alexia, but you were adaptable and that’s probably how you found yourself 4-0 up, having just scored a second goal in the second half.
“It’s almost like you’re trying to impress someone.” Mapi whispered giving you a half hug as you walked back into your own half.
“Shut up.”
“I bet she’s panicking that you might turn it down now.”
“She’s got other players Maria.”
“But none of them are you.”
The match stayed at 4-0, some of the youngsters coming on to see the game out.
You’d never been in a team like this, of course you had little arguments and there were small groups within the team, but everyone worked so hard for each other. And with that came the protectiveness, when you joined you were only 21, now 24 and the older ones took you under their wings. You’d been daunted a lot at the fact of playing fellow English players in the Champions League but they’d been your shield for those moments.
It blew your mind when the younger age groups joined you and they speak about that moment. Most of them staying up late to watch it making you feel old. But that meant they came to you for advice a lot of the time. Maybe this time though it was time to get advice from them.
“Hey little one.” Maria Perez was the first one you spotted in the changing room. “You played really well today.”
“Thank you.”
“How are you feeling about being called up?” It was only yesterday that the Spanish squad had been leaked and she was once again in it.
“Excited, another opportunity to prove myself.”
“I like that you see it that way.”
“Everyone should, it’s no different to playing here, as long as you be yourself you can never be disappointed.”
…….
@jillsmithjournalist: Serena Weigman is present at the Barcelona match. No current England players are playing however star player Y/N Beckham scored twice. Beckham has not played for England since she withdrew from selection in August 2019 amid public backlash and a rumoured feud with England manager Phil Neville. Could a return be on the cards?
@newlionesses_x: Surely she can’t just pick and choose when to come back.
@wslfan: Fine without her last year
@england123: Liability for England
@barcelonafan: All you hating on Beckham are crazy, one of the best players in the world and you don’t want her back because of something that happened 4 years ago, grow up. Could tell she struggled when she joined us but this past year she’s been exceptional, people change, mistakes happen (even though she should never have been sent off in the first place)
…..
You’ve known your decision for a long time but you still delayed giving it as long as possible before you could wait no longer. You could see she was the only one left in the hospitality area as you entered, the table she had chose overlooking the pitch you’d just performed on.
This was what you wanted and now it felt only right to give yourself that opportunity again.
“I’ll do it.”
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jacevelaryonswife · 6 months
Text
Bad idea right?
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Going out with your friends was great, really great, but it’s been a long time since you had fun with a guy. A considerable time that you thought was affecting lower parts of your body in relation to your roommate.
pairing: Michael Gavey x roommate fem!reader
warnings: p in v sex, fingering, loss of virginity, praising, english is not my first language. 3,455 words.
ewanverse characters masterlist
The idea of having a place only yours has always been something that cheered you up. Independence, silence and calm were very tempting qualities that always ended up being put in the background when the accounts were put on the table. In addition to the rent there was energy, internet, water, food and God knows if something breaks. You postponed the project for a long time while saving more money in the expectation of finding something more affordable, until the perfect option appeared on one of the announcement panels of the central building of the Campus. It was a beautiful coincidence actually, since you didn't used to go to such a place on a daily basis, but apparently the small white poster listed all the features you wanted in your small apartment for a price that fit in your pocket.
There was only one catch, a big catch.
The place already had an owner who was looking for a roommate.
In days past that would be enough for you to ignore the ad and follow your search, but the price and location seemed too tempting to ignore. You would give it a chance and call the number.
And then an even bigger but appeared: the voice on the other side of the line was masculine.
The idea of sharing an apartment with an unknown man was terrifying at all levels and almost made you hang up the phone. For some reason you arranged to visit the place the next day, obviously taking a friend and a knife in case the idiot wanted to play the smart.
And that's how you met Michael. Introverted, nerdy and brutally honest Michael Gavey. Obviously there was a lot of tension during the whole moment that led you to get to know the rooms and talk to him. About the place: it was quite comfortable and bigger than you expected, really organized and warm in the cold season of the beginning of winter. It was ridiculously pleasant. And as for Michael, well, you hadn't decided if he was a harmless nerd or a serial killer. Still, he seemed to interpret the female fear when he offered himself by saying:
"I understand that it's difficult for a woman to live with a lad she doesn't know."
But the point was: you had really liked the apartment, and when he started saying the rules of coexistence the distance between nerd and possible killer became bigger, much bigger. That was not a one-sided conversation, especially when you started questioning him in a not very subtle way about his life. What did he do? Where did he come from? Did he hide bodies in his room? (The latter was in your imagination, but you managed to spy on his room without being noticed).
Michael said that some people showed interest in the ad but that they did not fit the standard of roomies he wanted. Disorganized, drugged and very noisy, as soon as he classified them.
His methodical personality did his best to try to build a positive (or less negative) image you could have of the arrangement. And honestly, he seemed to be a quiet man, who appreciated a certain silence and calm that you wanted in your home most of the time. Obviously you checked the criminal record of the guy with caramel hair and beautiful blue eyes as soon as you left the building, relieving yourself by not finding anything. But hey, he was a student like you, it couldn't be so hard to find something about the guy!
By another incredible chance of fate a friend of a friend had some classes with Gavey and was very efficient in giving some information about the subject:
"Really smart, a little pretentious and clumsy, but he's a nice guy, doesn't have many friends and is definitely harmless."
Obviously it took much more than that to make you invest in the property, but what really mattered was that that weekend Michael Gavey had received a call and agreed with the idea.
So officially you were moving to the place you wanted, well located and cozy, but with a roommate who owns the place. And for the next few weeks after the move you slept with a knife under the pillow.
════════════════════
Living with Michael proved to be something very calm. Your classes took place at the same time, which culminated in sharing the rest of the day together. Initially things were strange, especially when you tried to talk to each other in the first days without any subject that caught the attention of the other, which defined the following days with dialogues only about the needs of coexistence. It was much easier that way and ensured that the dynamics between you happened in a more organic way than thought, since both were easy to deal with in your own ways. The apartment wasn’t complete yet, with few kitchen utensils and cleaning that you didn't mind buying. Michael was very hygienic and almost never left anything for you to clean (if it happened he would leave a note in the sink or bathroom indicating that he would take care of it later).
He wasn’t so good in the kitchen, but that wasn’t a problem when cooking was an almost relaxing activity for you, and it was very gratifying to receive compliments about your food. In addition, at the end of dinner he would make a point of washing the dishes to help.
Everything seemed to go very well over the weeks, the first month, the first month and a half until things started to change in the way you saw it.
Going out with your friends was great, really great, but it's been a while since you had fun with a man. A considerable time that you thought was affecting lower parts of your body. You see, Michael wasn’t bad looking, not with his caramel blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes and a formidable face; not with his terribly long fingers and delicious hands, not with his height much higher than your usually covered your body when he approached. No, the point was that you never had a relationship with someone like him. A little introverted, methodical, with a particular sense of humor and a little grumpy. On the other hand, he knew how to be pleasant and malleable when he wanted, he was almost shrewd and a little lonely.
Adding this to a nice body, a perfectly sculpted face and the looks he sent you when your clothes were tighter or more tidy, the sum was that you wanted to fuck that damn nerd in every room of your shared apartment.
Initially the feeling was repressed. Maybe it was just your fertile period and the sad reality of being for a long time without a male comfort — not the fact that he looks like a delicious prey easily edible. However, as the days went by the realization of being really invested in your roommate was more explicit and palpable, really palpable. Something needed to be done on the subject and some ideas were already around your mind about how to convince Michael to have sex madly in the next few days.
You looked good as an advantage, although you weren’t the most beautiful woman in the world, you were beautiful enough to take off a good looking partner. It couldn't be so difficult (or he could reject it). Therefore, acting with subtlety was your first option, although there was the uncertainty of him not realizing even if his mind was too sharp to do so. But in your state of urgency by instant action the games that would make him gradually succumb would be extremely stressful for you, so you would grab him at once.
But how would you proceed?
It was Friday night and your friends were dismissed for your onslaught to happen. Should you arrive as a hungry lun or a sneaky fox?
Fuck it, you'd jump on it with everything you had.
Wearing only a lacy white lingerie and an unbuttoned silk social t-shirt you left for the attack, opening the bedroom door and floating like a feather to the living room where your sweet roommate was distracted by the laptop. He didn't seem as focused as the times he studied, in fact he was almost relaxed in his gray sweatpants and thick pumpkin-colored sweater and a rare soft look on the screen. It was the ideal moment.
With a sensual feature and melodious voice you announced your presence with a simple "Hey," calling his attention.
And as you called it.
The poor lad could barely blink when he saw your half-naked and inviting figure approaching with a false innocent smile.
His reaction was a real treat. With his blue eyes wide from under his glasses and half-open mouth. He was terribly shocked, that was a fact, and it only encouraged you to go ahead. "I was thinking, if... you wouldn't have some time available for me." In a bold action, you gently pushed the laptop away and sat on his lap with one leg on each side of his waist, leaning your hands against the breastplate and leaning close to his flushed face to whisper on his perfect lips. "I'm thinking of something we can do together."
Blinking a few times for your dubious suggestion, Michael's hands landed uncertainly on the side of your thighs as he tried to formulate some audible answer in his now unstructured mind. “D-do you?” He asked tense, panting.
“Yes, but only if you want too,” you purred against his mouth, rubbing your noses and moving your dressed pussy against the newly hardened bulge, making him both moan low in anticipation.
Interesting fact about Michael: he's never had any girl rubbing against his body like that before. In fact, he never had a girl in any way.
It was something that didn't bother him full time, very worried about books, classes and science, but it would be a lie to say that he didn't think what it would be like to fuck a girl whose attraction to him was genuine. But that, well, that was better than any fantasy he's ever had throughout his life, that's why it was so costly to believe and answer your question with a blown and whispered "Yes", quickly amended by a more assertive confirmation: "I want to."
“Good," you smirk satisfied and collided your lips on his in a demanding and intense kiss, giving no chance to any doubt that he will feel. Your hands grabbed the back of his neck and his soft caramelized hair, avoiding any body separation.
Michael moaned when your fingers pulled some sensitive threads from the back of his neck, holding your waist and ass in a firm grip. That could only be a big wet dream. Yes, he really stole glances at you many times, more than he was proud of, but to think that this would happen? That way? Not even fucking.
He pressed his hardened cock against your pussy again and broke a kiss with a grunt when you started grinding on it. It was a delight to feel the impressive hardness below your body and see it all red and anxious, capturing another panting, long and tongue-filled kiss. Not even when you ripped off his sweater and discarded your social shirt, your lips separated. Although he was a skinny nerd, he had a really nice body. You wanted to fuck right there, but it was exciting to see him follow your trail like a hungry puppy. And he was fucking hungry, although equally nervous about being his first time.
Michael wasn’t stupid to think it would last long, he heard the stories, he knew how the male body worked to hump for the first time, he knew it would be disastrous, so when you leaned against him again his words were quick to reveal his secret.
“Wait… I need to say something,” his eyes faced the ground, posture hardening as he quickly lowered his head. At that moment you were sure of your implications on your roomie's sexual history, but wanted to respect his process in stating clearly. "I've never done thid."
With a gentle hand groping the left side of his face, you tried to calm him down: "it's ok, really. We can stop if you don't feel comfortable."
"No, no, I want that, really-," he was quick to contest, "I just didn't want to disappoint you."
“Hey, it's okay, I'm not going to make fun of you for that. Besides, I can teach you how to use these fingers to make women cum," you bit your lower lip, looking at it sensually. "Let me take care of you, babe."
And he became meek like a lamb, letting you take off his sweatpants before he himself hurriedly took off his shoes and socks and was only in his underwear, being guided to lie on the bed while your body climbed on his hips and groped his arms, breastplate and milky abs. "You have such a great body," you purred and leaned to kiss him, savoring his hands kneading and squeezing your arse, climbing up your back and daring to open the clasp of your bra, to which you were rewarded by your satisfied tinnitus. “Good boy,” and then your tits were exposed to his delight, being touched and exploited by two large, warm and inexperienced hands. God, he never thought that tis could be so amazing.
His thumbs rotated your halos experimentally, with a little more force than necessary but without being uncomfortable. Your hands covered Michael's and guided them to your waist, squeezing, landing them on your hips.
"Women like caresses and kisses to get in the mood. Kisses on the neck, jaw, clavicle, boobs..." you started, "I don't need these things at the moment, but next time this will be welcome."
Although excited about the idea of a next time suggested in advance, Michael didn’t want to spend his luck betting that your thought would be kept after sex, as a result, he sat in bed with you on his lap and attacked your neck with kisses, bites and hickeys. His work against the encounter between neck and shoulder made you purr with pleasure and close your eyes, really enjoying how he gently pulled some strands of hair from the back of your neck. The boy had potential.
“Keep going, babe”
The wet and anxious trail followed your lap, top and valley of the tits until capturing a nipple in the hot mouth, sucking and nibbling greedily. He couldn't believe that you were on his lap letting him suck your tits, that he was the reason for your moans and soft whining. Damn, he was already in the clouds and hadn't even actually laid you — or the opposite.
And although the feeling was terribly pleasant, the heat in your pussy was too aggressive to ignore, you needed a quick and urgent relief.
"Michael" you called him. "I need to get the condom," with that, you walked away against his will to pick up the package from your nightstand. "Now, take a deep breath when I start and try to distract yourself with something else to last longer, I'll go slowly but it's very intense and better than your hand, so hold tight," you warned him before pulling his boxer down to reveal his beautiful dick shining with pre-cum. Holy shit, Michael Gavey was fucking nice. “Damn, you’re fucking handsome. I should have seen this before."
And he was already out of breath before you stretched around him, his glasses crooked and a little blurry, half-open mouth and body hurting in anxiety, cock writhing with every touch received on his skin.
“Put it.”
And he put on the condom while you removed your panties and crawled into his lap again, making him lie down again. “Hold on, big guy.”
And then, picking up his cock and guiding him to your entrance, you sank slowly, giving him time to squeeze your hips with each centrimeter swallowed, caressing and smelling his soft hair when his head fell against your neck. Nothing had prepared him for that, no handful of lubricant came close to the tightness, heat and moisture of your pussy. If he was in the clouds before, now he was sure he was in the sky. “Wait! Wait! Don't move yet." And for that he needed to make sure it lasted.
"Okay... just breath babe, relax, think of something else." you instructed him panting, savoring the feeling of his cock inside your silky walls. Everything about his member was perfect, from the size to the thickness, filling you perfectly. A whining fell from your lips and you hugged him. “So good, mm.”
"Fuck," he grunted in despair, squeezing your body against his.
“Don't worry about it, it's okay, just enjoy it while it lasts,” you whispered against his temple.
That was the damn point. “I won't last long,” he said.
“So just enjoy, Mike,” biting his earlobe, you started jumping constantly, moaning uninhibitely at how good that nerd felt. He pushed his face even more on your neck and held your waist to the dear life, moaning and grunting and pulling you to lie above him. He was a panting mess with blurry glasses and a half-open mouth, a damn sight that made you more aroused than usual, very proud to be the reason for his snatched state.
“Oh fuck, fuck- I'm gonna-“
“Come for me, babe,” you rubbed your groin against his one, two, three times when he fell apart intensely with a long, hoarse moan, heavy breathing and a blushing face.
Withdrawing from him, your body fell on the bed still hot and longing to be satisfied, watching him gradually recompose in a brief comfortable silence.
"So... did you like it?" You asked, fingering his breastplate.
Did he like it? Damn, that shit blew his mind. “So fucking good.” Although part of his mind was eager to reward you, he had to. He had to make you cum. Turning to face you, Michael stood at your top before while asking: "what should I do now?"
Smirking maliciously, you leaned your feet on the bed and spread your legs more to him. “Fuck me with your fingers,” you purred, taking his right hand and guiding him to your wet center. "I like it when guys don't forget that I have a clit, I don't understand why, even why it makes your work easier," you circled your hill with his fingers, showing him the place before going down to your entrance. "Heat me up with one, then put on another."
And he followed your rules like a good boy, sticking a long finger pumping slowly.
"Mhm, just like that," you bit your lower lip, but very very very impatient to wait for the development of a slow orgasm, you needed to cum as soon as possible. Taking his hand, you held your index finger and made him join the middle one. “Go faster.”
And although sloppy and a little strong a few times, his fingers felt so fucking good on your velvet walls, reaching the sweet point that made your toes curl. “Fuck! Keep going Michael!”
He was hypnotized by the wet sounds that your pussy was making, by your body writhing and his fingers disappearing inside you, squeezing, wetting...
That set of things went straight to his cock.
"Roll your fingers slowly," you ordered, arching your back when he pressed against your spot, intensifying the tingling at the base of your stomach and making you moan louder. “Don't stop, I-I'm close!”
His glasses were on the tip of his nose, almost plummeting from his face, but it didn't matter at the moment. Deciding to use your previous tip on the clit, Michael used his other hand to circle your pearl with pressure, making his eyes close.
“Oh fuck! I'm gonna-" your whole body trembled when the coil burst and a warm pleasure flooded your senses, holding the bed for the darling life and closing your legs with the strong spasms.
That was better than any porn he watched. And with that he encompassed the last minutes from your approach until now. Michael was still very stunned by everything that happened, that’s why when he lay on your bed it was as if he was recovering from an electric discharge, his mind and body ridiculously overloaded and active. As for you, after a while restoring from a delicious orgasm, you rested your head on his chest and traced patterns on the milky to soft skin, playing with some fine and lost hair. "So, do you want a second round?"
═════════════════════
a/n: I know we don’t have much about Michael, but I was so anxious about this hot nerd that I couldn’t wait for the movie.
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hitomisuzuya · 8 months
Text
Scummy Scaramouche. Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Tit job. Consensual recording. Pure filth. Pet name used. Degradation.
I couldn't get this one out of my head. I have been wanting to write this for awhile.
Scaramouche loves your breasts. They were soft, warm, and squishy in his hands. Heavenly. The heavenly increased tenfold when his cock was pressed between them.
"Fuck, you are so good to me, kitten," He moaned, tightening his hand around his phone to ground himself. He couldn't wait for his phone to capture the moment when he cummed all over your face and in between your breasts. When you sucked some cum off the tip the tip of his cock, licking some from the corner of your mouth.
If your hands weren't busy holding your breasts against his cock, he would demand that you touch yourself while you sucked him off.
There were points where he thought his knees would buckle, making his thrusts slightly sloppy as he pumped his cock between your breasts, the tip of his cock pushing against your lips. He groaned, his cock absolutely throbbing as he watched your tongue flick out to lick his leaking tip.
You were a vision, looking up at him with flushed cheeks, sucking on the tip of his cock. His thighs trembled when you vibrated a moan on it. "You are so fucking good to me."
Of course you were. You always were. You are his precious darling, after all.
The lewd, wet sucking noises your mouth was making was going to sound just as divine through the speakers of his headphones while he jacked himself off to the video later. He didn't think he would be able to hold himself back from watching it while you sucked him off.
However, he would only do that after he recorded you desperately stuffing your fingers inside your wet hole while he stuffed your mouth full of his cock, making you choke while he filled your throat with cum.
"You look like such a slut..my slut.." Scaramouche groaned, his eyes rolling closed as his cock throbbed between your breasts.
Your cheeks flushed darker from his degradation, your panties soaking and clinging to your cunt. Reaching down, he brushed some hair out of your face, stroking his hand through your hair. "My good girl is taking care of me so well," He babbled, his head fuzzy as his orgasm approached.
Drool dropped from your mouth and down your chin, creating extra lubrication for his cock to slid easily between your breasts. He hissed in pleasure when you curled your tongue around the head of his cock. Your mouth always felt so worshipping.
"Stick out your tongue, whore," Scaramouche hissed, warm cum releasing onto your tongue, chest, and face a few moments after you offered your waiting tongue for him.
You nursed him through his high, clasped your breasts tighter around his cock as you sucked on the head. His phone screen captured the image of you sucking cum off the head of cock.
Scaramouche practically had to peel his cock out from between your breasts. He saved the video to his phone, looking down at you with a smug smirk. Grasping your hair, he brought your mouth close to his cock. "Panties off," He growled, pressing record again. "Suck, and fuck yourself on your fingers."
You were already opening your mouth for his cock.
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nickfurysrighteye · 3 months
Text
college au!chase davenport x fem!reader PART 2
summary: after your kiss in the library things between you and chase get a lot more..intense
cw: NSFW!! male masturbation, oral + fingering (f! receiving), unprotected sex (p in v), moaning kink (idk if there's a proper name for it or if it's even a thing but oh well), use of pet names (ex. baby, love), dirty talk, cumming inside.
words: 5.2k
a/n: this is my first time writing something this smutty so i hope you like it :) if you missed the first part, clik here
MDNI!!!
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after your "study session" at the library you were left wondering if chase felt what you felt, if that kiss is haunting him like it does with you. it's the only thing you can think about. during lectures, while you study, while you're talking with your friends, the only thing going through your head is that kiss. the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands all over your body giving you that tingling sensation.
the fact is, that kiss is not only haunting chase like it's haunting you, but it has become an obsession. he can't stop replaying that moment in his head and his imagination is taking over, making up fantasies about fucking you at any time in any place. he can't no longer study because his mind is filled up with images of you naked laying on his bed moaning out his name as you cum on his face while he's eating you out. he likes to imagine your tits bouncing as you ride his dick, your wet cunt spilling cum all over him.
it's perverted but he can't help it, he gets so hard at the thought of cumming inside of you his dick aches. he lays on his bed every night with his eyes closed imagining fucking you over and over and over again while he pumps his dick with his hand. "fuuuck..y/n please..oh my god..holy shit" he whimpers and moans while thick loads of cum cover his hand. he never had sex but he also never thought about it like this until that kiss with you in the library.
your number saved on his phone stays untouched, he's too scared to text you or call you. if he has these kind of thoughts while you're not around he doesn't want to know what his mind will come up with once he's with you.
chase's torn though, he's scared but doesn't want you to think he doesn't like you. one afternoon he decides to text you.
"hey y/n it's Chase, i'm so sorry about not texting you sooner. i'd really love to see you." once the text is sent he throws his phone on the bed, he's so scared you'll be too mad at him to even respond to his text.
his phone chimes. it's you.
"hey chase, I'd love to see you too. mind if I come over tonight?" oh my fucking god she wants to see me he thinks, he really didn't expect you to be this calm.
"sure, why don't you come over around nine thirty?"
"perfect i'll see you later :)"
-
at nine o'clock the doorbell rings and Chase opens the door to find you standing there.
"hi" you smile.
"hi, come on in."
"i'm having deja vu" you laugh trying to shake off the tension. you hope he doesn't sense how nervous you are, and if he does you hope he's as nervous as you.
"would you like some tea?" chase ask kindly as he walks to the kitchen.
"sure, thanks." you follow him. "where's your brother?"
"oh adam went out with his friends, honestly i have no idea where he is but he won't be back soon." his back's facing you as he prepares the tea, boiling hot water already in the kettle. you lean against the counter.
"so... we're alone?"
"yeah, i thought it wouldn't be a problem considering what we did when we were alone last time." he looks at you with a smirk while handing you a mug. you try to hide your smile. you go sit down on the couch and chase follows you, sitting down next to you. he places his mug onto the coffee table.
"look i don't wanna ruin this already but there's something i wanna talk to you about. about the library thing..i- i liked..kissing you.. and i would have continued what we were doing but i panicked and just ran out and i was too scared to call-"
"chase." you stop his spiral "I really liked kissing you too." a soft smile appears on his lips as he look down embarrassed.
"sorry, I'm nervous. i just like you. a lot."
you put down your mug and get a bit closer to him. "i like you too, a lot. since we kissed i couldn't stop thinking about you. actually i've never stopped thinking about you since i first talked to you." you stop for a moment, gazing at his features once again. it all comes back again: the warmth, the ecstacy, feeling his touch all over you, how his lips felt so familiar onto yours, like they had always belonged there.
it's not easy, explaining the longing desire not only your body but also your mind has for him. any experience, any connection you had with anyone else before compared to him becomes dull, vain, shallow. you only shared a kiss and it's eating you alive.
your hand finds it's way onto his neck and pull him closer. this time he kisses you more roughly, with more passion. his hands are quick to travel all over your body again pulling you even closer. all of chase's thought are about having you as close as possible to him, he has been longing your warmth for days. he takes your leg and brings it over to his other side so that you're sitting on top of him. his kisses get sloppier, messier, his tongue savors yours like he's been starved for weeks. he grabs your ass, making you whimper a little.
"god you're so cute when you do that."
his lips quickly crash back onto yours and he holds you even closer making you giggle into the kiss. your heart is palpitating and your body gets hotter and hotter as your tongues swirl together. slowly, you start moving your hips, grinding against his groin, making chase moan. you can feel his pants getting tighter as his dick gets harder with your every move, you can feel his hard tip pushing against your clit through your pants. your lips gradually move from his lips to his jaw to his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses behind as you pick up the pace with your hips. the fair scent of his cologne inebriate you as you suck and bite at his skin, leaving little red and purpleish spot on his neck.
chase pushes back his head, soft moans come out of his mouth as his breath becomes shorter. this is better than any scenario he imagined for this night, it would be even better if he gets to act out the fantasies that had been taunting him since the last time you met.
"you don't know how much i wanted this." his whisper's followed by a soft grunt.
"there's so much more i can do to you if you want me to"
your hands slide down his torso, getting closer to the waistband of his pants. clarity hits chase for a brief moment and all of a sudden he feels hesitant. he fantasized about doing certain things to you but he had never done it in real life. a wave of anxiety takes over him. what if he can't make you feel as good as he wants you to? what if he can't do it at all? you move your head away from his neck and go to kiss him on the lips again but you see the doubtful look in his eyes.
"chase, did i say something wrong? are you ok?" the last thing you wanted to do is make him uncomfortable.
"i..uh.."
"we can stop if you want." you start lifting your leg to get off of him but chase stops you.
"no i don't wanna stop. it's just that i..uh..i've never done it before. i actually never done any of this before."
you laugh softly "does that mean i get to be your first?"
-
you're laying on his bed, chase's on top of you, you feel the warmth of his body heating you up, he's leaving faint kisses all over your neck and collarbone. your fingers intertwine and you get lost in the feeling of his soft lips against your skin.
chase lowers one of his hands to undo the button of your pants, he slide them off your legs. he stops for a moment to admire your body, feeling your curves with his fingertips, causing you to have chills running down your spine.
he hooks his fingers to the sides of your panties, his eyes glued to the wet spot in the middle.
"may i?" he looks up at you for approval. you nod your head so he gently slides them down your legs, tossing them aside. then, he spreads your legs a bit more to fully marvel at your wet folds, touching them lightly with two fingers.
"can i eat you out? please?" you never had a guy staring at you with those lustfull eyes begging you to eat you out. "yes, yes please."
chase then quickly presses his lips onto your soaked cunt, brushing his tongue against your wet lips. he whirls it around until he finds your clit, your heart racing as soon as he hits the spot.
"is this ok?" does this feel good?" he stops to look at you when he hears a faint whimper coming out of you.
"it feels really good please keep going." your fingers find their way through his soft brown hair, messing it up and tugging lightly at his scalp. chase keeps pressing onto your sensitive clit, kissing it, licking it, sucking it.
"oh my god chase" your moans awake something in him, making him go faster and harder. he can't help but groan into your cunt, you just taste too good. he gets so much pleasure from just tasting you, he would have never imagined your cunt being so addictive.
you moan and whine, feeling your orgasm grow in your lower belly, but you don't want to cum just yet. while his tongue is focused on your clit, chase's fingers feel the wetness of your folds, then he carefully slides two fingers in. slowly he starts pumping his fingers in and out, curling them inside you. your cunt feels so tight around his fingers, the only thing he thinks about is how good it would feel to have it wrapped around his dick.
each curl of his fingers sends chills down your entire body, like electricity running through your veins. clear, slick fluids covering them more and more with each thrust as his tongue brushes against your bud. the silence of the room is filled with your desperate moans, at this point you're not even trying to hide how good it feels having him between your legs.
the sweet sounds escaping your mouth fill him pleasure. his pants have become so tight around him he's just craving some release. he can feel precum leaking from his tip, soaking his underwear, as he grinds against the bed while his face's buried in your cunt, lapping up all your juices like he has been dying of thrist.
you can't take it anymore, you just want to have him. you need him. you need to feel him inside of you. you want to fuck him until he begs because he can't take it anymore.
"chase please i need you..please chase fuck me" you moan louder and louder, your cunt pulsating as you get closer and closer. suddenly he stops, taking out his fingers, licking them clean. the absence of his touch is making you ache, your body needs more of him. it needs to feel more of him. he takes off his shirt, showing off his toned body, his pants hang lower from all the grinding so the v line of his hips is showing. your eyes scan his body, going lower and lower, admiring all of his features. the faint line of light brown hairs guides your eyes from his belly down to the waistband of his underwear showing from his jeans.
chase notices you're staring; he chuckles "what?"
"nothing.. it's not every day i get to see a guy with a body like that between my legs, so i wanna enjoy the view." you lightly bite your lower lip, your words make chase laugh a little more as his cheeks become a fair red color.
chase leans back down to kiss you ardently, hands traveling up your shirt, cupping your breasts. he takes the shirt off of you, having you now fully naked on his bed. he couldn't ask for a more beautiful view. his eyes land on your round tits, they're even better than he imagined, so soft and full.
"you're so fucking beautiful." he dives into your neck, leaving a trace of harsh kisses, licking and nibbling the soft skin. your hands find their way to his bulge, applying enough pressure to make him groan.
"ugh fuck – i want to fuck you so badly" he moans into your neck as he holds you closer.
you unbutton his jeans and pull down the zipper "then take your pants off."
-
now chase's lying on the bed, completely stripped, his long, thick dick in your hand throbbing and soaked with precum. you tease him by rubbing it against your folds, wetting his tip.
"please y/n, please"
"you want me to ride you? you want me to make you feel good chase?"
"yes please y/n, i want you to make me feel good please ugh –" his words turn into moans as you slide your cunt against his length and slowly grind the tip against your clit, getting him all nice and wet.
you decide it was enough with the teasing so you take his dick and slowly insert it inside you, taking it all inch by inch.
"oohh fuck —" he hisses, you take your time starting to pump his dick inside you, fully adjusting to his length. you start to find your rhythm, slowly going up and down, moving your hips, savoring every movement, every sensation having him inside you makes you feel. chase's hands travel up and down your thighs and caress your warm skin. he moves them upwards and grabs firmly at the soft skin of your ass, making your hips move at a quicker pace. although he loves how you're making him feel so good, making him feel a type of plesure he never experienced before and could have never experienced it without you, he needs more.
"ugh — your pussy feels so fucking good" he lets out, his eyes close for a moment and he lets his head go even more further into the pillows. this still isn't enough though. his body yearns for more. he plants his feet firmly on the bed so he can prop his hips up and push you even harder down his dick, now he's fully guiding you up and down while gripping your ass so hard you're sure it's gonna leave a red mark afterwards. he hits your sweet spot so hard you can't help but moan and whimper, completely melting as he thrusts deeper into you. those harmonious sounds that leave your pretty lips make him spiral; his ears have never been blessed with such lovely sound before this very moment, he wants to give you even more pleasure just so he can keep hearing the sweet noises you make for him. he frees one of his hands from your hips and wonders down to where the two of you are connected. he place his thumb onto your sentive clit, rubbing small circles.
the moans become even louder and he can't help but listen, completely in awe. the fact he can give you this much pleasure feeds his ego in a way he could have never expected. you sink into him and suddenly he wraps an arm around your body, keeping a tight grip onto your side. a thick white ring forming at the base of his dick, now the whimpers and the moans mixed with wet sounds.
"—shit i'm gonna fucking cum - fuck chase oh fuck – oh my god "
"yeah baby just like that — cum on my cock just like that ~"
a wave of electricity passes through your body as you reach your climax, as chase still pushes your hips up and down to fuck you through your high you let your body relax onto him. his grip turns into an embrace, protecting your body from the cold air of the room. chase moves his hand to your cheek to move away some strands of hair that covered your pretty fucked out face, placing a gentle kiss onto your lips while the two of you are still connected at your core.
"let's..slow down for a minute..ok?" words escape your lips between breaths while a soft smile curved your lips.
"we can take all the time you want baby" chase caresses your pink, warm, cheeks and kisses you gently, moving his lips delicately. it's different from before; this time it's not passion what you can perceive into the kiss, but rather love. it's a kiss to make you feel taken care of, to show to you you're not just a piece of meat to him. no guy who only wanted you for your body would kiss you the way chase does and he wants to be sure you feel that with each and every movement of his lips.
he gracefully turns you around so that you're laying on the bed below him, still caressing your skin and leaving soft pecks onto your lips, cheeks, neck and collarbone.
"you wanna keep going?" you look up at him with big shiny eyes. he nods and places himself at your entrance, your cunt's still wet and puffy. he pushes back in and starts to thrust with his hips gradually finding a steadier rhythm. as he slides back and forth he kisses you tenderly but the more his pleasure grows the messier the kisses become. an arm swiftly moves beneath you, his palm open against your back, drawing you closer to his body and elevating your hip to thrust even deeper. he touches your sweet spots again and low, soft moans come out of you.
the rush your moans give him feel is unbelievable. they turn him on so much. he picks up the pace, panting and groaning as he feels your tight walls wrap around him, clenching each time he hits your favorite spot.
"please chase don't stop – ugh how can you be this fucking good —" your words feed his ego so much his lips curl into a smirk.
"if you don't want me to stop, let me hear those sweet sounds you make f'me –"
chase lifts his body up and spreads your legs to bring your cores closer and thrust harder. "spread your legs f'me baby ~ like that, wider." chase's hand travels from behind your back down to your clit and begins to rub it in circle motions once again, giving you that heavenly sensation.
"fuck! – chase –"
all of a sudden, you hear a muffled sound of keys rattling in the distance, followed by the sound of the front door being shut closed. a dulled voice starts echoing through the hallway.
"shit your brother's home" you're quite surprised by his early return home, it can't be later than eleven.
adam enters the apartment, throwing his keys on the little table next to the front door.
" – what did you want me to do man? i wouldn't have left if your friend wasn't a piece of shit! –" he spits his words angrily at the person he was talking to on the phone "– what does that have to do with anything? dude if you don't want someone flirting with your girl don't fucking bring her to the party! whatever man i gotta go, i'll see you tomorrow." a deep annoyed groan leaves his mouth as he falls back on the charcoal colored couch, letting his head fall against the cushion and rubbing his tired eyes with his fingertips. his eyelids fall heavy, his head hurts a little bit from the couple of drinks he had at his friend's place so to calm the throbbing adam stays there lying against the cushion.
despite your concern, chase doesn't stop thrusting into you for a single second, with the same force, trying to savour the pleasure. his finger's still rubbing small circles around your clit, waves of pleasure come crashing into you with every move, your cunt getting more and more wet and making his dick slide in and out of your needy hole with more and more ease. it was aphrodisiacal for him, seeing you like this, almost as if you were a drug: legs spread, tits bouncing back and forth with every thrust..although his favorite thing is seeing your cunt all stretched out by his cock, wrapping it all and making it so so wet, milky fluid spilling out of the sides every time his thick cock makes his way into you. on top of all of this, he's the one getting you this wet, making you feel so good you moan his name. except that now instead of the sweet sounds he likes so much, all he hears are soft whines muffled by a pillow you keep close to your mouth with your hand.
"why so quiet now huh?"
"your brother's gonna hear us."
"you think i care? it's not like he worries about noise when he brings girls over while I'm home" he leans closer to your ear "also there's nothing that turn me on more that hearing your sweet voice moaning my name" his lips leave hot kisses on your neck as he whispers "so please love let me hear how good i make you feel" he grabs both of your wrists with his left hand, pinning them above your head so that you can't cover your face and he picks up the pace of his thrusts.
"ugh — chase -"
"yeah like that keep going – louder" the thrusts get harder and quicker.
"ugh chase – oh fuck ugh–" you raise your voice even more, the pleasure is becoming so much you feel another orgasm approaching.
"fuck y/n – you're gonna make me fucking come–" he frees your wrists and instead wraps one arm around you, crushing you with his body and placing the other hand on your puffy clit again.
"oh please don't stop don't stop don't stop ~"
"ugh 'm gonna fill you up – you're so fucking tight you feel so good baby ~"
the loud sounds the both of you make are muffled by the locked bedroom door, but it's not enough to make them unable to hear.
adam's eyes open again, he fell asleep briefly and somehow wakes up with an even bigger headache, so big his ears must have started hearing weird things... like the sounds coming from his brother's bedroom? no it can't be, he thinks, chase never has girls over, is he watching porn? adam waits a few moments sitting still on the couch, then his gaze falls on the two full but cold cups of tea sitting on the coffee table. confused, adam starts scanning the room with his eyes for other unusual signs: a leather jacket hanged on the coat rack, along with a scarf and a small bag, both of which are neither his or his brother's.
more muffled sounds come from behind the closed door "chase please –"
a disgusted expression falls onto adam's face when he realizes what's happening "oh my god! are you kidding me!? ugh so gross!" he brings his hands to his ears and walks away to his room, the more he tries to not hear the more disgusted he gets. adam shuts the door of his room loudly, making his presence clear as if you didn't already know he was home.
chase’s face is buried into your neck, kissing it and breathing in your scent as he gets closer to climax. at this point, his thrusts have become so quick and messy he's barely pulling out before he pushes hard back into you. he's inebriated. your legs, wrapped around his waist keeping him close, tremble each time he pushes into you and graze your sweet spot with the tip of his dick. moans come out of your mouth one after the other against his ear. your hands are placed against his back and you're unconsciously digging your nails into his skin, slowly dragging them down and leaving red marks that are emphasized even more by his fair complexion. he's definitely going to brag about them later. your mouth's wide open when you feel your walls clench against him, breath hitching with his every thrust, and suddenly the pleasure overwhelms you, hitting you hard as you cum for a second time. moans becoming cries of plesure filling the room when your orgasm drowns you and draw chase even closer to the edge. he can't no longer contain himself and with loud groans he spills thick long ropes of cum into you. he's moaning, swearing, spilling out incoherent half sentences while still thrusting into you fucking the both of you through your high.
when it wears off, chase gradually slows down until he finally stops and catch his breath. your heart's beating so fast you can feel almost jumping out of your chest, you feel your tired legs ache the moment you let go of chase's waist and relax them onto the bed. still all inside you, chase rests his body onto you, buring his face into the crook of your neck once again.
"holy shit –" his voice is soft and quiet since he's still catching his breath. his words make you chuckle and he can't help but smile against your skin. he could listen to your laugh forever.
chase lifts his body up and pulls out of you, letting the white fluid spill out of your puffy hole. "i'm gonna go get something to clean you up with ok? i'll be right back." he smiles softly with his rosy lips, then leans down to place a gentle kiss yours while caressing your warm cheek with his thumb.
"okay." you smile back at him.
-
a beam of light shines through the drawn curtain and touches the bare skin of your face and shoulders, the warmth is comforting. you can feel arms wrapped around you, keeping you close, a gentle kiss is placed on your forehead as you wake up and your eyes adjust slowly to the light. you and chase lie skin to skin, both of you only wearing your underwear. being this close to him, you can feel his sweet-smelling scent with each breath you take.
"good morning" chase's voice is lower and a little raspy "did you sleep well?" he delicately moves little strands of hair out of your face with his fingers, then places them onto your satiny cheek.
"yeah. i really like your voice in the morning." he laughs softly at your compliment, his smile is so contagious you can't help but giggle with him.
"thank you" he says with his low voice, "are you hungry? i can make you something to eat if you want."
"sure"
"alright, i'll go to the kitchen real quick, I'll be right back." he places three pecks on your face: on your cheek, then the corner of your lips and then finally your lips. then, chase gets out of the bed and throws on a grey short-sleeved tshirt that was lying around, just to wear something more than only his briefs. he heads for the kitchen, closing the bedroom door behind him.
he finds adam already up and dressed, standing at the front door about to leave.
"what are you doing up so early?" adam asks him with a slight surprise in his tone, despite being him who usually wakes up late.
"i could ask you the same question. where are you going?"
"i was gonna go have breakfast at the café down the street, didn't wanna disturb you and your...friend. 'm not really used to being the odd man out."
"yeah, I guess that doesn't happen a lot." chase finds the role reversal pretty ironic and kinda hard to believe, he didn't think there was ever going to be a situation like this.
"what about you? what are you doing?"
"oh i was gonna make y/n something to eat. she's still in bed."
adam starts to chuckle at his brother words "chase, really? you're making her breakfast?" the innocent smile that was once plastered across chase's face fades away "you're so naive it's adorable."
"what? i wanted to do something nice for her."
"those kind of things are boyfriend things, you don't do that with a one night stand. you never give a girl boyfriend treatment when you're not the boyfriend. the way this works is: she comes over, you hook up then leave her out the front door when you're done."
"well..what if i don't wanna do that? what if i wanna give her the "boyfriend treatment" because i would actually like to be her boyfriend?"
adam laughs loudly like chase just asked him the dumbest question in the world, which to him sounds like it. "like you would ever date y/n. she's waaaay out of your league. it would be a miracle if you even got close to go out with her once, let alone date her. trust me, be happy you two fucked and give up."
as soon as adam is finished with his sentence he opens the front door and leaves, his laughs still lingering in the room as chase stands still in front of the dor. suddenly, the sound of another door opening catches his attention. you come outside of chase's room, wearing only the shirt he had on the previous night and your underwear. he turns around to see you getting closer to him, wrapping your arms around his torso.
"hey, what's with that face? everything's ok?" you look up at him worried, you didn't hear much of their conversation besides their muffled voices and adam's laugh. chase smiles softly trying to hide doubt his brother's words have raised in him.
"it's nothing, don't worry about it." you don't respond, you just furrow your eyebrows and look at him with those shiny eyes.
chase shakes his head slightly, pondering whether or not tell you. "it's dumb, really...it's just that – mhm – no, no, just – just forget it. forget i said anything."
"what is it chase?"
he takes a deep breath then exhales "i don't want...this to be a one time thing, nor a "friends with benefits" thing. i'm really, really, attracted to you and i'd love to take you out on a date, do things the way you're supposed to." at first, you don't say anything, your gaze is glued on him.
"i knew it was dumb, i'm so-"
"I'd love to go on a date with you."
his smile grows wide again "are you serious?" you simply nod, which is enough to make his smile even bigger. he cups your cheeks with both of his hands and cloeses the distance between you two, crashing your lips together with a big smile still plastered onto his face.
"i'm sorry you must be hungry, i'll go make some breakfast."
"oh don't worry there's no need to rush."
"then what do you wanna do?"
you look up at him, lips curled in a sly smile.
"i'm up for morning sex if you are."
the same sly smile appears on his face instantly.
"let's go to the bedroom."
-
a/n: thank you for reading and most importantly thank you so much for the patience!!! i really hope y'all enjoyed this fic <3
tag: @maggiecc @kenshomin @thechalkprincessemma @vildetry06 @sexiestmfdeadoralive
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vax-merstappen · 2 months
Text
press delete (cl16)
summary: after your breakup with charles, you can't stop thinking back on your memories together as you go through your photos. you try to get over him as you realize he has moved on.
warnings: angst, drunkenness, breakup
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After everything, you didn't know how he could have moved on so fast. It had been years of love, or so you had thought. But maybe with someone so rich and famous as Charles, he would always be looking for something better. Or in this case, someone better.
The pictures of him with some supermodel had spread like wildfire. They were on his yacht in Monaco, the same one you had sailed together on only four months earlier. Of course he would dump you for a model. He was always striving for a level of perfection in his life that you didn't even think was possible. And clearly you didn't fit within that lifestyle.
Instead, you sat on the couch in your apartment, scrolling through your camera roll and debating whether to delete all the pictures of him with you. And as each one went by, you couldn't help but remember all the times you had, all the moments you spent in his arms, and all the memories you made together.
Your eyes settled on a picture of you dancing in the rain and you let your mind wander.
---
As you were walking back from eating dinner at the local cafe down the street from your shared apartment, the sky had opened up and rain started pouring down onto the two of you. Neither you or Charles had thought to bring an umbrella.
The rain continued to pour down and you ran down the street towards home, laughing and trying not to step in any puddles. You saw one particularly big large puddle and an idea came to mind. As Charles went to step around it, you gave him a light push and of course he stepped right in it.
"Mon amour!" he exclaimed, giving you a look of exaggerated disappointment.
You gave a playful shrug and continued running back towards your apartment.
"Oh it's on now!" he said, chasing after you. He was slightly faster than you and caught up quickly, picking you up as you giggled trying to free yourself from his grasp.
"Put me down Charles!"
"Not until you're as wet as me."
"Oh? You want to make me wet?"
"Not like that!" he laughed.
You couldn't help but laugh back, giving in as he set you down in a puddle. You pulled him into the puddle with you and you found yourselves holding each other.
"Let's dance in the rain!" you exclaimed. "We're soaked already."
And so you did, guiding him through the steps of a dance you made up as you went. You didn't see the camera at the time, but when you saw the photo on social media the next day you saved it to your phone. It was a stunning picture after all even if it was taken by a fan.
You wondered if his new girlfriend would be willing to dance in the rain with him.
It didn't matter now and so you pressed delete.
---
Countless images later, you found yourself staring at a picture of the two of you on your apartment balcony late at night. You had spent countless nights there just the two of you, reminiscing about life until the early hours of the morning. As you looked closer at the image, you saw a bottle of wine in the background and you remembered that night.
"What if I told you I loved you?" Charles asked, slurring his words a little.
"You're my boyfriend, I would hope you love me," you laughed back, hiccupping a little.
Both of you were clearly drunk and your words were starting to show it. You had lost track of how long you had sat on the balcony, drinking wine and enjoying each others presence. You had no intentions of stopping because of a little drunkenness.
"No, mon amour, I love you sooooo much. More than I love aaaanybody else."
"Me too, Charles. I love you more than anyone. More than the tifosi."
"Noooobody loves me more than the tifosi."
You felt a surge of anger. "No! I love you most! I'll fight every Italian man who thinks they love you more!"
You tried to stand up as if to physically go find every Italian man and ended up tripping over your own chair.
"Are you ok?" Charles asked, reaching to help you up.
"It will take a lot more to stop me than a damn chair," you hiccupped, grabbing his hand and settling back into said chair.
"Tu es veeeery strong, ma cherie. Les italiens vont be sooooo afraid."
You started laughing uncontrollably. For some reason you always found it funny when he would get really drunk and speak in a mix of French and English.
"Can I tell you something funny?" you asked between laughs. "It might sound insane."
"Oui."
"I think you're the prettiest man in the whooooole world."
"Well can I tell you something even crazier?"
"Yeah."
"I think you're the prettiest girl. I've never seen anyone so belle."
You only vaguely remember the moments that happened after that. The both of you laughing, finishing the bottle of wine, and at some point in the night heading to bed.
As you looked at the drunken selfie that you had taken sometime during the night, you wondered how the man who had once gushed over you like so had moved on so fast. Did he tell every girl he saw that he loved her more than anyone else? Or was that reserved for you?
You knew now that all those words that had meant so much then were empty now. Another picture deleted from your phone, another memory you'd rather forget.
And fuck him for leading you on for so long. For making you think you were more than enough just to leave you behind like a toy he'd grown bored of.
---
After an hour, all the pictures were gone except one. It was the only one that you had decided to keep. The one that would be your souvenir to remind you of it all. The good and the bad but most especially the ugly.
It was the last night you had seen Charles in person. You had been out for a day on his yacht. The past few weeks had been rocky with the two of you getting in more and more arguments. It had started with petty things, like his refusal to do the dishes and your unwillingness to pick where to eat dinner out. But then it escalated to him being away too often and your desire to "control his life."
It had all boiled over when the two of you had been cooped up together on the sea.
"Charles!" you exclaimed, completely exasperated with his childish behavior. He had pushed you towards the water, hoping you would fall in. Past you would have taken it as a joke, but not after he refused to take you seriously for months, always pushing aside everything you said.
"Mon amour, it was just a joke. Don't take it all so serious. We are here to have a good time, no?"
"Not if you are going to throw me in the ocean."
"You are so dramatic sometimes."
"Says the king of drama himself. You always blow things out of proportion, always acting like you're better than I am."
He scoffed. "You know I don't do that."
"You're literally doing it right now."
You couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but you knew he had just rolled them at you. When had it become like this? How had you gone from loving each other more than anyone else in the world to actively hating his presence?
You had walked over to him. "Is it always going to be like this? You thinking you're always right? That I don't deserve to be with someone like you?"
The silence was telling. He paused for a few moments before responding. "Of course I don't think that way. It's just you keep starting arguments with me. Can't you just appreciate being on a yacht in the sea? Not always turn it into a problem?"
You bit back an angry response. How dare he go back and pin everything on you? Like he always did?
You pulled his sunglasses onto his head, making him look you in the eye. "I don't think this is going to work anymore."
"Mon amour..."
"No, don't call me that now. Not when you've made everything about you. Not when I can't do anything that makes you happy."
He sighed, running his hands through his hair. He looked back at you with his stunning blue eyes. The ones you still hadn't been able to get out of your head ever since.
"Okay. We can take a break. But let me get one last picture of you to remember you by. And when we get back together, I will delete it off my phone so we don't have to remember this day? Ok, ma cherie?"
You had nodded. The picture stared back at you now. You were dressed in one of his oversized shirts over your swimsuit. Your skin was sun-kissed from summer days outside. And your eyes looked anything but happy, your smile only going as far as your face.
You wondered if he had kept the picture, still waiting for when you got back together. He had promised after all. But even though you had broken up with him, he was the one who moved on. To someone better, to someone who might love him like you once did.
Even if he did keep the picture, you doubted the day would come when he would delete it for the reason he described.
So with one last bit of motivation, you pressed delete. Deleted the last of your memories, the last of your time with him, the last of your hope for the future.
And just like that, he was gone.
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lillaluna · 2 months
Text
in this world and that world
Pairing: Diluc, Childe, Ayato, Wriothesley x f!Reader
Summary: You're absolutely in love with your beautiful character from the game Genshin Impact and at one point, you meet him in your reality.
DILUC
You've had an absolutely lousy day, preceded by the same morning and preceded by the same evening. It's been like this for a month now.
Going home after work, you decided that it would not be a bad idea to buy yourself a bottle of wine, especially today was Friday. Going to the shop, you went to your favourite rack and took that bottle of wine, which you had taken almost every Friday until today.
"I'd better not take it, it's not the best vintage and…"
"I'll probably sort out my own drinking, mister!" - you were just starting to wind up, like a flame that had been inadvertently splashed with fuel. Turning round to the guy who'd made the remark you were preparing to unleash all your anger on him, but when you met his scarlet eyes you froze. Then somewhere in the back of your mind you heard the sound of breaking glass. "Diluс," you squeaked.
The guy ignoring your daze fussed around you, holding out his hand for you to safely step over the shards from the broken bottle. He kept saying that one of the staff would come and clean it up, when you automatically put your hand into Diluс's open palm, and as soon as your fingers touched you passed out.
AYATO
After waiting at the bus stop for almost an hour, you decided there was nothing more to catch there and headed home on foot. It wasn't a long walk, but you were hampered by a downpour, the first of the rainy season. Scolding yourself for forgetting your umbrella at home and pressing your head into your shoulders as if it could save you from the large drops of rain, you waited for the traffic light to turn green, standing in front of the pedestrian crossing.
And at some point, the rain stopped. No, not everywhere. The drops stopped falling on the top of your head, pouring under your clothes. Without taking your eyes off the ground you turned your head a little and saw a man's light-coloured shoes, followed by white trousers. As you looked up, you noticed a blue shirt. And a white jacket that was thrown over the man's broad shoulders.
This image already reminded you vaguely of someone, and looking up, you met the blue eyes of the guy across from you.
You must have looked like a madwoman, standing like that, under the umbrella the man held over you, while you stared at him and literally forced yourself to breathe.
"Ayato…", you whispered quietly, afraid that the magic was about to dissipate or that you'd wake up in bed sweating, but the guy across from you just smiled sweetly.
"I thought we knew each other. I can't figure out where I've seen you before".
CHILDE
Evening. Your room in the student dormitory, where you've been trying to memorise the answers to the tests for one of the most important exams of your life for the past hour. On the one hand you're let down by your absent-mindedness and lack of concentration, and on the other… On the other hand by the loud music that's blaring, as it seems to you, to the whole neighbourhood.
Unable to stand these beautiful tunes, you decide to go and deal with the troublemaker. Of course, you hope to just ask him/her to turn it down, but you don't completely dismiss the idea that you might have to fight.
You had to knock long and hard, pulling the doorknob a few times before the music stopped and you finally heard footsteps outside the door. Preparing to utter an angry tirade, you took more air into your lungs, and as soon as the door opened you let the air out like a balloon.
Your first thought was that you'd fallen asleep. Yeah you must have fallen asleep playing on your phone, and that's why in your dream you now have Childe standing in front of you and smiling cheekily, awkwardly scratching himself on the back of his head.
"I guess I did it too loud," the guy says, but you just let it pass and looking at him full in your mind's eye, you unceremoniously reach out and poke your finger right into his chest to make sure he's real.
WRIOTHESLEY
Kicking the crap out of the punching bag at the gym became your favourite method of stress relief. Channelling all the negative emotions, you excitedly sent powerful, by your standards, punches into the sports equipment hanging in front of you.
You were not a super athletic girl, but rather the opposite, more of a slim and too thin. And very uncoordinated…
The "head with ears", as you called the hairstyle of your favourite character from your favourite game, captured your attention immediately, and you completely forgot about the fact that you were about to be attacked by a freshly beaten pear.
A moment later it did, and you collapsed to the floor with a loud "oh, fuck". Dropping your gloves and rolling over onto all fours, you crawled away from the still swinging punching bag. Your head felt a little dizzy as you shook it out of your eyes. Your gaze was immediately drawn to the red sneakers, which, judging by their size, were worn on a man's feet.
"Fuck," you exhaled, and lowered your head, recognising that in a moment, you'd have to burn with shame.
Resting one hand on the floor, you pushed yourself up to squat. Slowly glancing down at your legs, your black shorts, and then your white sports shirt, you tilted your head questioningly to the side as you noticed the scars on the guy's neck in front of you.
"I can't help you if you're going to sit in that pose and stare."
You could have sworn you were ready to faint when you heard that painfully familiar voice. As you looked up sharply to the guy's face, you realised that surely the pear had hit you on the head too hard, because in front of you stood Wriothesley, the same damn Duke Meropide.
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