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#minutes to get the stink out of my nose
welcometohighwater · 2 months
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bradford pears are so fucking funny to me. you can tell that like 40-50 years ago they were probably considered Good Trees for generic american landscaping purposes, because they grow in a pleasing shape to a pleasing size for people to be satisfied by their treeness, and they make pretty blooms. but then we started to realize, oh these things fucking stink. and then we realized, oh even though we can’t eat the fruits the birds seem to enjoy carrying them around everywhere and making more of these stinky trees huh. and we also realized, damn if you don’t baby this thing like crazy when it’s coming up, it is so fucking brittle that a widdle baby thunderstorm will split the thing in half and crush your car. and now they’re illegal in ohio
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queeriboh · 4 months
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holy shit I did so much laundry today lol
#I get rly paranoid abt Smell#and lately everything has just seemed#idk#extra stinky no matter what I do#but I managed to wash a set of sheets all my towels every single one of them 50% of my wardrobe my shower curtain and my couch pillow cases#and I used hot water instead of cold for a change#and the heavy soil option (which costs 50 cents more)#and I used this downy rinse that's supposed to help get the built up residue off#bc I noticed last time a bunch of my stuff came out literally felt disgusting right out of the dryer#and I'm 90% sure it helped SO SO SO MUCH#everything at least FELT really clean while I was folding it#somebody was eating something in the laundromat tho and i smelled onions while I was folding and almost started crying#bc I got so scared that was my clothes lol#it's hard for me to tell bc I go nose blind rly super fast#but I THINK everything smelled really nice and fresh#except the 2 silk Blankies I sleep w under my head /:#I even soaked them in hot water oxiclean and baking soda for an hour and then just hot water water and baking soda for another 30 minutes#before I washed them#and they FEEL significantlyyyyyyyyyy cleaner and softer and nice#but they still stink /:#but I also can't sleep without them bc I can't stand the feeling or Sound of my pillow#they're my most embarrassing autistic quirk ever lol but I need them to sleep#I have 3 so I can cycle them during the night if I wake up and the one I have wrapped around my face is too warm lol#anyway I'm still not done yet tho!!! I gotta sort out the remaining laundry for my next big haul#(the other half of my closet my activewear and Whites and my other 3 sets of sheets)#and strip / change my bed#and vacuum my bedroom rly well#before I can put away the laundry I did today
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emmyrosee · 7 months
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You’re completely out of reality today.
Rintaro’s flight is delayed until who knows what time, the twins brewing in your uterus are obliterating your back and bladder, and the love of your life Kaiya is intent on making your life a project today. With Akito staying at a friends house for a project, it truly is just you at the mercy of 1.8 kids.
You’ve danced the pregnant dance for nine years by now, but this is the first time in a long time you’re just about ready to break down into tears. You don’t know if it’s because you’re exhausted, your hormones are off the chart, or if you’re just so done with being pregnant for the past 8 months that the baby bump you usually adore is just becoming too much to keep.
You feel so sore, so gross from the sweat and other bodily fluid changes that come with twins. Nothing that any pamphlet, and doctor, even the Miya twin’s poor mother taking the time to call you and talk to you about it wasn’t anything to hold a candle to the exhaustion you’re feeling.
Eventually, it must boil over. And you do so without even knowing it, brushing Kaiya’s hair after a bath.
“Why you cryin’, mumma?”
“Huh?” Your hand stills softly, just clutching the hairbrush in your hand.
She turns around to face you, her small hand slowly reaching up to touch your wet cheek, and when you feel the warmth of her hand against your cool tear tracks, you’re quick to sniffle and move to wipe them away. “I’m sorry baby, mommy’s just feeling yucky today.”
Okay. Not what you meant to confess to your little three year old, but immediately, her eyes widen and she moves to crawl on your lap. You pick her up and plop her on your thigh, cradling her and trying your damndest to not wail right there.
“Mumma bootiful, mumma.”
Again, you freeze. You pull away slightly, fat tears rolling down your cheeks with fervor this time. “What…?”
“Mumma bootiful!”
“Mumma’s beautiful?”
“Yeah!”
Your lip wobbles and you tug her closer, “my baby… what did I do to deserve you? My cutie Kaiya.” You give her a flurry of kisses on her cheeks, and it has her giggling in joy.
“Mumma give kisses!”
“Mumma will always give you kisses,” you promise. You plant a few more to her temple, only stopping to take a few minutes to sniff her clean hair, rub her soft cheeks, and enjoy the silence of just you and your little girl.
A sudden kick to your side has you snapped from your daze, and Kaiya gasps excitedly.
“Which baby’s kickin, mumma?” She asks, and you ponder the thought for a minute. “Sachie or Sachiko?”
You think on it, then plant a kiss to her nose, “I think it’s Sachie; I think she’s got daddy’s sassiness, don’t you think?”
“Yeah,” agrees, and with one more kiss to her temple, you nudge her softly to get up.
“Come on, stink. Let’s watch a movie before daddy comes home to ruin the fun.” At your words, she giggles and gets up, bouncing down the halls and leaving you to quickly clean the bathroom.
With a small bowl of veggies and a Disney movie playing on the tv, you pull a blanket over you both and let the calmness of Encanto bring you to a state of being half asleep; You’re not entirely sure when Rintaro finally does come home, but there’s a new movie playing, and Kaiya leaps off the couch excitedly.
“Daddy!”
You hear bags drop and your eyes open exhaustedly in an attempt to greet him, but the heaviness in them lingers as you try to keep them open. You hear Rintaro shushing Kaiya softly, followed by a few plants of wet kisses on her cheek. There’s murmurs of conversation, and you hear Rintaro’s steps coming closer as you stretch. “Hey babydoll; stay comfy, I’ll come get you in a bit.”
“Gotta get the chicken for tomorrow…”
“Huh?”
Kaiya giggles, “mumma still sleeping.”
“Guess so,” he chuckles. He plants a kiss to your head, mumbles to Kaiya to do the same, and your mind is so buried in its exhaustion to process even getting up to greet your man. “Come on Kaiya. Let’s get you to bed.”
“Okay daddy!”
There’s no footsteps that you can process, but you do hear one final thing that has you curling into the warmth of your blanket in search of his embrace.
“Mommy really is beautiful, isn’t she stink?”
“Mumma’s bootiful!”
—-
If my life ain’t this ion want it
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thefunkfactory · 1 month
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Jake’s Butt Blasts
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You knew it was a bad idea going to his house for the project, the dumb jock you were partnered up with invited you to his place to work on your guys Economics project. As you walked up to his dorm you could hear him on the phone talking to someone about the “scrawny nerd he had to be paired up with”, you didn’t even care that he was complaining about you because you had been constantly complaining about being paired up with him to your friends. You knocked on the door and heard him say goodbye to the person on the phone and then the door swung open. “YO BRO WHATS UPPPPP?” he asked in a dull yet naturally loud voice. You wanted to roll your eyes knowing that you were probably going to have to do all the heavy lifting for the project, “Hey Jake uhhhh thanks for inviting me over I guess.”. You stepped into his dorm, he must’ve gotten lucky because it looks like he somehow scored a dorm all to himself! “Hey do you not have a roommate or anything?” you asked him, “Nah, I did but I guess they didn’t like staying with me. He said something about the smell being too strong, I guess he couldn’t handle the smell of a real man.” Jake shrugged. As he was saying that you began to notice the aforementioned “smell of a real man”, the room reeked of cum, unwashed clothes, and worst of all it was like a cloud of body odor constantly resided in the room. You didn’t wanna be too rude upfront so you bit your tongue and said nothing about it. Jake kicked some junk away on the floor to create a path for you to get to his desk without stepping into a sea of used clothes and beer cans. You set up shop on the desk trying to not touch anything given that half of the stuff in here is pretty much contaminated with Jake’s funk.
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As you begun to open up your laptop and get to work Jake jumps up onto his bed and lets out a loud fart PFFFFBBTTTTT, “Huhuhuh sorry bro had one too many Bud Lights I guess!”. You wave your hand in front of your face hoping to wave away Jake’s potent fart fumes that were filling the room, “Jake, can you maybe try and hold your stench in? At least while i'm here.”, “Oh yea totally man sorry about that! Its just so natural to spread my man stink ya know. Huhuhuh”. “Yea…whatever you say man. Do you mind if we break up the project and split up what each of us is doing?” You said hoping he would just go along with your idea and maybe do at least something. “Ehhhh I think it would just be easier for the both of us if you just do it. I'm probably just gonna keep making mistakes and ruin it bro.”, not wanting to put up a fight with a dude that could easily push you around, you just agreed and began silently working while he played CoD on his bed next to you.
After a few hours you were getting a bit restless and piped up to tell Jake, “Hey I’m gonna go take a quick walk outside and just relax for a bit, do you mind just finding the charts to put onto the slideshow?”. He guffawed and rolled his eyes, “Dude I think you should keep working and do that shit yourself.”. Not liking his attitude you retorted, “Jake I have been working for hours and I just need to get a break from what feels like the toxic stench hanging in this room! I'm going outside and getting some fresh air! I’ll be back in a bit.”, covering your nose with your shirt you stormed outside.
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While outside you paced around the outside of the building and felt a bit guilty for yelling at Jake. He is just a little bossy that's all, he probably didn’t deserve to get yelled at like that. You kept walking for a few more minutes and decided that it would probably be best if you apologized just a little for lashing out like that.
Walking back into the dorm room Jake was nowhere to be found, you told yourself he was probably just going to the bathroom or went on a walk too. As you walked back to the desk and sat down you could tell that Jake let out another fart while you were gone. You decided that since he wasn’t here you could put your headphones on and try to distract yourself from the lingering butt funk in the room. Working away for probably only about a few minutes you feel your headphones get ripped off of your head. Turning around you came almost face to face with Jake’s shirtless body, with his armpit on full display.
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“UGH JAKE! YOU REEK DUDE!” you shouted out, “Look man I'm sorry I snapped at you it wasn’t right, but you really shouldn’t make people smell your pits just because they ticked you off.”. “Dude you need a total reality check man. I’m gonna help you with that” Jake said completely ignoring what you just said. “What are you talking about man! Put your arm down! It really is starting to stinkkkk…” You said as your words began to drift off. “Huhuh! You’re gonna have a whole new viewpoint when I’m done with you!”
Jake jumps back up on the bed and commands you to come sniff his feet. “Fuck no Jake! This is getting weir-“, PFFFFFBBBBTTT, “Ahhhhhhh” Jake moans out, “Huhuhuh! That one really reeked! Now, come sniff my feet bro.” For whatever reason, as the fumes from Jake’s latest butt blast assault your nose, you realize you should do what Jake commands of you. Without saying a word you got up from the desk and got on your knees right in front of Jake's sockless rancid dogs. “Sniff” Jake ordered. As the foot funk shot up your nostrils and straight into your brain you could feel something shifting.
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You felt a light aching sensation spread across your body all at once, it felt as if you had a slight cramp in every part of your body, and all at once your entire body began to change. Your feet quickly turned from a size 9 into a size 14, and just like the feet in front of you, a strong fetid foot funk began to rise up from your massive behemoths. You felt Jake’s feet grow farther away from you as you began to grow taller. Your legs now grown into massive logs, muscular and hairy, propelled you to an admirable height at 6 '7. Topping off the tree trunk legs you now possess grew two massive stinking mounds of fat, perfect for releasing eye watering fumes into a nerd's face.
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A gut wrenching pain overtakes you as your stomach begins to twist and turn into an impeccable 6 pack so hard that it is capable of sharpening knives. Next up is your shoulders and arm, you feel like you have been carrying pounds of stone atop your shoulders, they stretch out becoming something that a real man can be proud of. As your shoulders stretch into place your arms begin to inflate causing them to look akin to rolling hills when you flex them. Your armpits fill in with foul-smelling hair that hasn’t been touched by deodorant or soap since middle school. You’ve always wanted to let your pheromones exist as a natural aphrodisiac to all the horny gay guys who have always drooled all over you. As the stench from your pits begins to add to the preexisting amalgamation of pure unadulterated bro-stink in the dorm room your face begins to transform. Your nose cracks and shortens, yet not altering your ability to huff Jake’s foot funk. Your eyebrows grow messy and your eyes lose their sparkle and become dull orbs. Your lips shrink becoming less plump and your mouth becomes cramped as it needs to fit your now massive tongue. And the last part of you that is about to undergo the jockification is your gorgeous hair purposefully and painstakingly styled everyday to look like an effortless fluffy mane. It quickly turns into a simple jock haircut which perfectly matches the simple jock you are about to be when you have finished transforming.
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Seeing that you have finished the physical jockification Jake giddily and rhetorically asks you “Are you ready to be just as dumb as you look hot stuff ?”, knowing full well that the cloud of stink sitting in your skull prevents you from saying anything back. “Huhuhuh, it’s gonna be so nice to have a roomie who loves man stink just as much as me.” Jake announces as he commences your mental transformation. PPFFFFFBBBBBTTTT. Jake releases another round of funk filled flatulence and watches as his new best friend inhales his fart. As the fart quickly rushes through your brain it turns anything it encounters into a broified memory. The years of studying history and social science turns into years of working up a stink with your best friend Jake. The hours it took to apply to this college and apply for loans turn into a full ride scholarship for your soccer prowess. All of your memories with your gal pals in highschool turn into memories of goofing around with your bros. All of your intelligence and memories are wiped out or transformed in the blink of an eye, leaving behind a dumb, horny nineteen year old who can only pass his classes due to the tutoring he receives from the nerdy boys who want a piece of you.
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Getting up from your knees and slowly regaining your bearings, you look around the room seeing all of your things scattered about the floor and the posters of half naked men all over your wall. “Huhuhuh Jake did you hot box the room with your farts againnnnn” you dumbly inquired, “Uhhh yea bro of course I did! Who else can let out such a potent blast from the ass! Buhuh” Jake couldn’t help but chuckle at his own stupid joke. “Well we gotta open a window cuz I have a date coming over and I don't need them thinking that we always smell so rank.” you responded. “Ummmm but bro like…we do always smell rank.”, “Well I just don't want to knock him out with your fumes okay dudeeeee!”. “Wait…him?” Jake asked, “Yea Jake, HIM. You’ve known that I've been gay since like high school! Duuuuhhhhh!”. “Damnit! The stink didn’t change that!” Jake groaned out, “What are you talking about dude?” You said as Jake make a concentrated expression and turned his back to you. “What was supposed to chang-“ PPPPFFFFBBBTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!! Jake let out the longest fart you have ever heard him let out, and once again Jake’s gas went straight to your brain reaching deep enough to turn the last pre-jockified bit of you, your gayness, into pure heterosexuality. Physically recoiling from the stink you felt your desire to conquer a twink turn into a desire to impregnate a dumb blonde. As the mental transformation was finally totally complete you watched as right before your eyes the posters of hunky men turned into posters of big boobed bimbos.
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“Huhuhuhuh bro I can't wait to spread my seed into the dumb bitch I met at the Frat Party the other day!” You said pawing at your crotch. That perfect butt of yours will now never be used for anything other than hotboxing a room with your gas or shitting out the smelliest dumps ever.
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nvuy · 26 days
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so… about that drink you ordered — boothill
summary. boothill has a pity party at a bar and notices a familiar face that he wants to smash into two.
notes. sort of requested official unofficial sequel sort of to hijacked. you can read this stand alone. not saying you should, though. teehee. this is so uninspired. i just like this concept a lot. i also just like rivals to lovers. i’m also riding on the coattails of the “boothill is largely illiterate.” whether it’s actually canon or not who knows. let me be. he’s still not released LMAOOOO.
warnings. the usual banter, little bit of threatening, but nothing major.
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Boothill was at a loss. The mission was a bust, there was no response from La Mancha, and the dreamscape was beginning to grind his gears. So many loud noises, the poster signs were following him around, and this so-called SoulGlad was not as good as it was advertised to be.
This bar sucked, too. The bartender had been giving him the stink eye for the better half of an hour now. It probably wasn’t appropriate to sick him right in the face for it, break his nose, and give him a beating.
The bartender wasn’t scrawny, though. Some big bulk of meat with tired eyes, scruff and mousy brown hair. His chest looked like it was about to pop the buttons of his vest. Dude looks absolutely repressed. Probably works minimum wage.
The bartender abandons a blue inky pen and his notebook that Boothill snoops in. Nothing interesting. Just pages of tabs and tabs of people he doesn’t know, nor care about.
There’s music from the stereos in the corners, though surprisingly, considering it’s not a club—that one is next door. It’s a conjoined building. The only thing seperating the bar and the VIP private rooms of the club is a wall and a locked door. Comforting—and Boothill would have lost his mind already.
It’s also dark. Granted, it’s two in the morning, but the low lights can’t be good for normal people. Not to mention the group of women in the corner that have been hoarding the few slot machines for about thirty minutes now.
Every so often, a chime will go off, and one of them will start busting into tears.
He’s here alone. Not for any particular reason. He’s waiting for a response from somebody, and what better way to pass the time than people watch and pretend he’s not nosy.
Also he feels super important sitting at the counter of the bar.
He almost jumps at a whisper in his ear.
A reddish drink in a ribbed coupe glass is gently dropped onto the counter space beside him. There’s a cucumber slice on the rim, and it also looks like it’s been dusted with sugar.
Boothill turns his nose up. Gross.
The bartender glances at the figure who slots into the seat next to the ranger. “Can I get you something else?”
“Hard whiskey.”
Huh. His eyes snapped to the right. Very familiar. Almost unnervingly so. Just in case, he scoots himself away by an inch, sitting closer to the edge of the barstool.
The bartender blinks, unsure as he pulls a tumbler from the rack. “For you?”
A finger prods the Ranger’s cheek. “For him.”
There’s a zap from the finger, like a small electric shock. Like static charged from the friction of the weird material of the barstools.
“Thanks, Gal.”
“No amount of flirting is gonna make me clear your tab,” Gallagher warned before sliding the whiskey over to the Ranger. Boothill had barely moved, now acutely aware of his own face plastered on a wanted poster behind the bartender’s head. “Try not showin’ up here frequently. Bad for my image if I keep serving crooks.” He points to the Ranger, and then to you. “Both of you.”
The bartender then is called over by a group of women who are giggling at a booth in the corner.
Boothill was sure he was going to lean forward and scrap with you over the counter. He could already feel the terse skin of your neck in his hands.
“You followin’ me?”
“You followed me first,” you say harshly.
The ranger let out a laugh before picking up his drink. “It was only a job. If you got offended, that’s your problem.” He then holds the glass close. “You g’nna do that thing again?”
“‘Thing?’” you repeated.
There was a smug grin on your face. You rested the chin in the palm of your hand.
Oh. He was so going to throw you over the counter and smash a bottle over your head. “Y’know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Don’t play stupid.”
You took a sip of your drink.
“Boop.”
Your finger pressed to his chest. You snickered when he stared down at the brief flashing of yellow beneath his joints.
Then, you flit your finger upwards and flick his nose.
He grabs your hand with the intent of pulling it from its socket.
“Now, that’s a dangerous game to play,” you remind him. “I’ve got you in my hands, remember?” Your free hand lets go of your glass, and there’s a small flash of yellow light on the pads of the gloves on your hands. A flicker is all it takes to showcase his entire makeup in your palm. You spin it slowly for good measure.
Then, the image disappears and you snatch your wrist from his hand.
“What do you want?” Boothill mutters. He’s absentmindedly staring into his drink while swishing it around. The ice cubes softly tap against the glass.
“Insight. You’re a Galaxy Ranger, right?” He can’t lie to you anyway. You pretty much know everything about him. Your main profession is definitely stalking and being a thorn in his side. Your fingers held his chin up softly. “Tell me about it.”
He blinks, dazed. “That’s it?”
“No.”
He removes your hand from his chin. He holds his glass protectively. “Then quit pullin’ my leg. Cut to the good bit.”
You sigh. “You’re no fun. Do you come to bars just to mope?” You pull a dramatic frown for good measure.
“Do you come to bars to piss everyone off?” he shoots back. Despite his tone, his fingers are gentle around the glass. Any more firm a hold, and the drink would shatter and spill all over the counter.
You grin.
You tap his nose again. “Just you.” Then, you shake your head. “I’m here ‘cause I got a bar crush.” You then point to a table behind Boothill’s head in the corner. “Blondie with the nice eyes and the rings.”
After a moment's hesitation, the ranger turns and follows your finger.
Sure enough, you’re not convincing him to spin around so you can shove your hand into his sockets. There is a blond man at a table dressed in green, winking at an opponent over a game of… poker? Is that poker? The game with the chips and stuff. And dice, too. They’re thrown over a board, and there’s a couple of people who have tuned in to watch the entire thing unfold.
“His name is Aventurine. Or, that’s a code name, I think. He’s Sigonian. Works for the IPC, incredibly insecure, has a gambling addiction, needs to eat lead…” You stopped short, counting on your fingers as Boothill turns back to you. “Isn’t he dreamy?”
Boothill narrows his eyes at you. “Do you know everything about everyone?”
You shrug. “Pretty much, yeah.” Then, you make a noise. “Eh, I’m lying. Lots of people are boring. I only know the basics ‘bout most of ‘em. It’s the higher ups I’m interested in. Case in point–” You gestured to the blond man again, now scanning over his cards. “–Mister Big Shot. And all his loser coworkers. I don’t like the IPC.”
Boothill quietly sips his drink.
At least you can both agree on something.
He wants to yawn. He doesn’t have the function to do that anymore.
You talk too much.
He cuts you off, and fiddles with a few buttons on his arm. “What can you tell me–” A small image of a woman projects into view from a small lens near his wrist. “–About her?”
You lean closer to the image. Pretty.
She has lovely purple hair and eyes to match. It’s an unassuming photo. She’s not even looking at the camera, not even close to it. She’s standing next to a little boy with sparkling eyes and a uniform that starkly resembles the hotel staff in the waking world of Penacony—oh, the bellboy. You forgot his name.
You hum. “What’s her name?”
“Acheron.” He spits it nastily, as if tasting vitriol on his tongue.
You lean back against the counter. “I’d have to dig deeper. Can’t say I’ve seen her around before.”
“Well, that’s disappointin’,” he huffs before the image shrinks and disappears back into the lens. “Thought you were better than that.”
Your brows knit together.
“Are you trying to rile me up?” It was working. Curse you and your hot-head. It would get you killed one day.
Boothill grins.
Then, he raises his glass to you. “Yep.”
You wanted to pull him apart right there, like a doll.
Instead, you whisper, “tell me about La Mancha.”
Boothill casually sips the whiskey. “What’s in it for me?”
“I’ll dig up whatever I can find about that Acheron girl.”
Boothill then lets out a small giggle. “I already know who she is.” He wasn’t lying either. You could tell by how he grinned. “I was testin’ ya.”
Oh, great. He’s figured you out again. Not that there’s much to decode beneath the layer of self-doubt and hostility.
You could feel your face burning.
He grabs your cheeks before you can turn away.
“You ain’t here ‘cause you got some ‘puppy crush,’” he accused playfully, squishing your skin like it’s clay. “You already told me ya know everything about blondie. Who’re you really here for?”
He’s not stupid.
He’s also twirling a lock of his hair around his finger.
God damnit.
Your fingers curled tightly around the rim of your glass. The cucumber slice has since fallen into the cosmopolitan, and it’s giving the entire drink a strange watery taste.
The bar carries on. There’s a hoot from the table with blondie, who’s now, since the last time you stared daggers into the side of his head, collected some more of his poor opponent’s chips.
You pull your face from his grip. “Nobody.”
“Not even me?” Boothill presses. “You seem to love followin’ me around. In and out the dreamscape.”
You grit your teeth.
“The bartender,” you mutter finally. “I’m here for the bartender.” Currently, Gallagher is half asleep on the other side of the counter, trying to negotiate with some drunkard over the pricing of a scotch.
You eye him warily for a moment.
“There it is.” He pats your head like a dog. “Knew you’d come ‘round, pumpkin.”
You’re trembling with rage. “Kiss my ass, you cyborg scum.” You were considering throwing a punch at his perfect face.
“Rude.” Boothill flicks your nose back and you grunt. “I’m tryin’ to be nice wit’ you. You followed me here.”
You wanted to leave now. He sucks when he knows he has the upper hand, even if he’s well aware you can make his arms tear his own head off.
But you’re not going to do that. You need him. You made that clear.
The sound of a slot machine goes off somewhere to the right. There's cheering from a bunch of women.
You turn back and stare at the wall of liquor behind the bar. Maybe you should just knock yourself out. Whether by downing an entire bottle of bourbon or smashing it over your head. It was a hard choice to make.
You watch him through your peripherals, noticing he’s pinched a napkin from the pile on the counter.
“Lookin’ very pretty tonight, by the way. Hard to keep my eyes off ya.” He was writing something down with the pen from before. “If you were anyone else, I woulda had to take ya home. ‘Specially after ya bought me a drink.”
“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Then, you pause. “Excuse me?”
Boothill folds the napkin into a square and holds it to your lips. “Open.”
“You are not–”
Too late. He’s pushed it to your teeth, and you instinctively clamp down on it.
Oh, this sucks. This sucks bad.
He knows it, too, from the way he’s grinning at you like a shark and snickering.
He presses his warm lips to your cheek. The scent of whiskey faintly wafts in the air.
You stupidly freeze, hands curled around his wrists when his cold hands tilt your head so the tip of his tongue can press to the corner of your lips. You could stop him. You could.
You didn’t.
You smell like strawberry, the same as that other night. You look just as good, too. Shame you haven’t put anything on your lips. He would’ve loved to be stained a nice pink again.
He slides his whiskey next to you.
Then, he finishes what’s left of your drink. Dickhead. “I’ll be ‘round if ya need me.” He taps your nose and stands up. “You know where to find me.”
With a tilt of his hat, he leaves.
You pull the napkin from your teeth. Are you serious?
Face burning with humiliation, you hastily unfold the tissue, fingers shaking around the glass of whiskey. It’s heavy on your tongue; disgusting, bitter, everything you’d use to describe that stupid cowboy and his abomination of a body.
Scrawled in blue ink is a line of numbers. It looked suspiciously like a phone number.
Below it in blocky letters are the words: Keep In touc H. ♡
There’s a crudely drawn horse with a hat in the corner.
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hairyjocktf · 2 months
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First Workout of the Year
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Aidan was just starting his second semester at university, and after a long winter break of being a bum he was ready to get back to his goal of finally getting in some semblance of shape.Despite his efforts during the fall he was still practically a twig, something the studs on grindr were keen to let him know. This was finally going to be when he packed on some size, he told himself as he headed into the campus gym. It was packed with people his size, trying for those new year's resolutions, with the regular jocks standing out amongst the crowd. He squeezed in between the hoards of people, getting in a basic circuit on the resistance machines. After about 40 measly minutes he was sweaty, out of breath, and decided to call it a day for his first workout back.
He headed to the locker room to rinse off before getting on his way. Letting the warm water pour over him for a few minutes, he let his thoughts drift to the hunks he saw in the free weight area. Damn they looked good, he thought, I hope I can pull off a tank top like that eventually. Eventually he came back to reality, turned off the water and reached for his towel. Or at least, where his towel was supposed to be. Shit! I must’ve forgotten it and not even noticed, he lamented. Soaking wet and low on options, he peeked out from the stall to see if anyone was around. Shockingly, the place was empty. On a nearby bench he spotted a leftover towel. Not that he wanted to use a dirty towel, but there weren’t many alternatives. Embarrassed about his actions, he darted over and snagged the towel before hiding back in the shower. 
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Eager to put this whole situation behind him, he used the towel to dry off his body, followed by his face. But while wiping his face he noticed a stench that had been missed earlier. The towel absolutely reeked of sweat and body odor. Upon opening his eyes at the eye watering smell he saw an even more disgusting problem: the towel was coated in thick dark hairs! How did I not see that? He cursed at himself. He spit one out of his mouth. Disgusted, he threw the towel down to the floor and quickly changed back into his clothes before storming out of the gym.
On his walk back to his dorm he was pissed, Who would leave a filthy towel like that? He angrily thought, and why did I not pay closer attention? The afternoon was warm, and he felt himself sweating. Guess I’ll have to shower again, he thought to himself. As he kept walking he felt increasingly sore in his muscles, maybe that workout was better than he had thought. He caught himself scratching at his pit, which was odd behavior for him, but he brushed it off as just being sweaty and sore. He brought his finger back up to his nose and sniffed them. Phew I stink! He said to himself. A moment later that action registered in his brain, Why the hell did I just scratch and sniff my pit? He began to worry. His shirt began to feel a little tighter than normal, restricting his arm movements as he walked. His shoes also felt smaller than usual. He continued making his way home, nearly there, as worry truly set in.
By the time he reached his dorm his back was drenched with sweat, he was feeling sore and itchy and all around uncomfortable. As he reached his hand to the door to put his key in his eyes widened. His hand was much larger than normal, as was his forearm, and they were both coated in thick dark hairs. As he stared, the hairs seemed to grow denser as they spread up his forearm to his bicep, which was also inflating to ridiculous size. Aidan quickly threw open the door and ran inside straight to his bathroom mirror. 
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What he saw made his jaw drop. His frame had grown substantially since leaving the gym just a while before, pushing against his now tight clothing. He could see his biceps and shoulders bulging under the fabric, stretching his t-shirt to its limit. As he stared agape in the mirror his pecs also began to grow, inflating his shirt even more. He groaned in discomfort as everything felt so sore as his muscles packed on years worth of mass in seconds. With a final grunt, his shirt split open, unable to contain his hulking body in a size small any longer.
His shirt in tatters, Aidan’s bulked up body was now clearly visible. Muscle mass was not the only thing growing on him. As he stared at his mountainous pecs, tiny dark spots began to appear across them. Dark pinpricks spread across his chest before erupting into dark brown hairs. Thin at first, they quickly darkened and thickened into respectable chest fur as his skin disappeared beneath the growing coat. It spread out from the center, swirling across his pecs and thickening around his nipples as thicker, longer hairs sprouted around them. The hairs crawled up to his collarbone, making sure that plenty of dark hairs would be visible above any shirt. He moaned from the feeling of the hair spreading, filling his new body with ecstasy.
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Aidan felt his previously flat stomach contort, with pronounced abs growing in and giving him that sought after V shape he admired in other jocks. That definition was quickly buried under his spreading body hair, however, as it raced down from his chest. Thick, dark hairs grew down in waves across his stomach, burying his abs under a coat of dense fur just like his chest. But that was just the beginning of it. He felt a strong itch below the waist of his paints as pressure increased substantially there. Pulling out his waistband he watched in horror as thick hairs erupted across his groin, engulfing the wisps that had been there before. The hairs were thick, dark, and grew curlier by the second as they spread. They grew up above his waistband, connecting to the forest that had covered his stomach, and then down to his thighs. His balls were not spared that fate either, with his sack becoming overrun with fur. With a densely hairy crotch that only continued to grow, Aidan groaned and put his hands up to his face, revealing a flash of dark under his arm. 
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He lifted his arm just in time to see thick, wiry hairs erupting from his armpit. They grew longer and thicker as they spread out, and he could see the sweat getting trapped in the bushes already. He scratched at the growing tuft of hair with his other hand, feeling the hairs grow and curl as they filled his armpit to the brim, sticking out even when he put his arm down. Those hairy pits already smelled to match the jock he was becoming, it was eye watering. The hairs even filled out to the point of connecting with his chest hair, giving his upper body a full coat. Or so he thought, at least, before the hairs began crawling up his boulder shoulders, the fur wrapping all the way to his back. The itchiness growing on his other side told him all he needed to know. Thick hairs were worming their way out across his shoulder blades, dusting his entire back with dark fur. The hairs climbed down, thickening as they approached his ass, which itself had grown quite a bit without him noticing. The itchy feeling reached a zenith as dark brown hairs began pushing out of his plump ass, giving him a nice thick fur coat even there. He reached around to scratch at his hole, feeling intense pleasure as thick curly hairs burst out around it, filling his crack with dark hairs.
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It was at this point, half lost in pleasure, that Aidan noticed his pants becoming incredibly tight. To avoid what happened with his shirt he quickly stripped them off, watching his quads grow to three times the size they had been, and the rest of his legs packing on impressive size. The thick hair in his groin and on his ass spread downwards, coating his thighs in an absolute rug of curly hairs. They of course did not stop there, shooting up across his calves and stretching down towards his feet, which began to grow quickly. After kicking off his shoes he watched as his feet grew longer, toes getting thicker as the same thick dark hairs popped up across his toes and the top of his foot. He was now stuck with huge hairy jock feet! Aidan looked back up at the mirror, seeing a hulking and incredibly hairy jocked up body that looked nothing like he had just an hour before. The only thing out of place was his babyface, though something told him that was soon to change.
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As if waiting for that moment, the hairs on his face began to sprout. Follicles pushed out hair after hair as his chin darkened. His hands scratched at the growing stubble as it covered his face, wiry hairs exploding across his upper lip. The thick hairs continued growing and spreading, giving him full coverage, reaching high up on his cheeks and connecting down to his chest hair. The fur crawled out of him, leaving barely any of his skin visible by the end. His body continued to explode with muscle, his frame getting heavier and bulkier. The hair hid most of the definition but anyone would still be able to tell how absolutely built he was now. The changes had taken a lot out of him as well, he was drenched in sweat and out of breath looking at his new form in the mirror. He absolutely reeked as well, all the new hair catching sweat and musk. 
Somehow though, he didn’t seem to mind that much. He had always been a real hairy and stinky guy, ever since puberty hit him hard in middle school. Kids had made fun of him then but now they admired and lusted after him. He was a real stud, and he was late for his second workout of the day.
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This was my first ever tf story, let me know if you like it! Hopefully they'll only get better from here. If you have ideas for future stories also let me know, I'd love to try out more.
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jockfootstories · 7 months
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Being convinced by your best friend to do whatever he said after losing the bet, a game the HS seniors went back and forth on, you saw him look over at his older college bro sitting behind the both of you, then glanced back at you, and said,”Your face has to be Jordan’s footrest for the duration of the next game.” 
You looked at the huge bare feet of the college sophomore, home on break, and back at your friend saying,” What… no way!” 
“Yes way. Lay down there and be his foot stool,” your friend replied smiling. 
You looked over at Jordan, who raised one foot up, beckoning you to get down. Clearly being told before hand by his younger brother his plan and his college bro totally going along with it. Or so you figured. Seeing no way out this bet, you slowly get down on the floor, and scootch your face under the raised soles hovering above. You could detect a light, vinegary smell to them as the large, bare soles lowered themselves down as you. The peachy soles consumed your face, putting you in darkness, feeling their softness press into your cheeks. You heard the game announcer say oddball and you grunted at this as it could draw out to 15 minutes. One foot tilted over, now covering the middle of itself over your nose. You breathed in, the slight aroma filling your nostrils. “Like smelling those big feet footrest?,” you heard your friend jeer. 
“I hate you,” you mumble into the padded sole. You feel the pressure as the college foot smears against your nose, rubbing the smell in with Jordan teasing,”Sniff it in.”  You groan and move your face against the padded bottom. A few minutes pass before Jordan tilts his foot from your nose to the side, giving you a chance to breathe fresh air. You gulp it in and see the jock just casually staring down at you…amused. He smiles and tilts his other foot over, covering your nostrils with it. 
“Nooo…mmmphhhfff,” you get out before taking a breathe in.  
“Smell it,” you hear him say from above.  You groan, trying to move your face out from under it. The large foot counters your movement, keeping itself firmly in your face despite your attempts. You hear your friend snicker and say,”How are those feet foot rest?  Like it under there?” 
“No… stink,” you reply before managing to get your face out from under the giant foot for a second. Jordan swiftly clamps his toes over your nostrils and squeezes. You grunt as you feel them flex and rub over your nose… a new wave of odor filling your lungs. You sniff in deeply. You make some attempts to dodge the oncoming toes but he keep’s your nose under their control easily. Seeing you groan and make feeble attempts below him, he casually grins down at you as he watches.  “Sniff between them.”  You do, before finally giving in, and submitting during the final third round of the game. In an act of pure dominance, Jordan repositions one meaty foot directly on your face before crossing the other one over it. Your nose sinks into the middle as you lay there looking defeated. You hear your friend’s mom call him into the kitchen and sense him get up.  “Don’t move,” you hear him order,”the match is nearly over.”  
Jordan nudges your face some and asks,”Like it down there?”   You slowly shake your face ’no’ against the bottom. The foot rubs briefly on your face before the jock smothers you under the darkness of both soles. “Mmmm-hmmm,” he replies disagreeing. “Yah you do,” he teases and begins wiping them on your face. You feel a pressure on your stomach and grunt as your friend uses you as part of the floor upon coming back. “Ok, the match is over,” he says and the massive bare feet slide off your face. “Like being my bro’s personal footrest?,” you barely hear him say.  You manage to boost yourself up on your elbows, feeling exhausted, and croak out,”Uhh no. I’m never taking that bet again unless it’s you losing and getting the same treatment.”  
“Want a one on one, loser get’s the treatment again?,” your friend challenges. “You’ve beat me loads of times, it would be even match.” 
You consider it for a moment and take the bet. You watch your friend set up the match and feel the ankle of one foot rest on top of your shoulder. You feel Jordan wag it some, the side of his foot tapping the side of your cheek. You know what happens if you lose but briefly consider throwing the match to become the ‘footrest’ again.
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ciaoteamo · 11 months
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More period cramps with miguel? 🤭
we’ll pretend it’s a new month then🌚
pairings: miguel o’hara x f!reader
summary: it’s that time of the month again
(a/n): i didn’t mention it before but you’re able to use telepathy
warnings: 18+ content sub!miguel
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You were sitting in miguel’s lab. In the silence of course.
You’d removed your suit to cool yourself down and raised the lab so that no one could bother you. You were sure that the others were looking for you somewhere.
But you could care less right now. You curled yourself into a ball and sighed as you tried to endure the cramps. Just suffering in your bra and underwear. All you could think about was last month.
You wondered if he would mind doing it again for you, you really want to get back to helping everyone with finding the anomoly.
You close your eyes and search for Miguel. You could hear him asking others if they’d saw me.
in the lab You tell him.
In less than a minute, he made his way from the first floor and to the lab. You hear him shudder and look down to see him covering his nose.
“trying to say i stink?” You turn your lip up.
“no, it’s that time again?” He asks, shooting webs to lift himself onto the platform.
“how’d you know” You turn back around.
“i could smell you, plus you never casually sit in my lab like this” He put a hand on your leg and rubbed it for comfort.
“what does it smell like?” You ask curiously. He didn’t tell you this last time.
“in one word, seductive” He answers.
“really?” You look at him for a second to see him still covering his nose. “so what, you’re trying not to get hard from the smell?” You tease.
“i’m trying not to do something i’ll regret” He sighs.
“think you’re gonna hurt me? can’t control yourself?” You tilt your head and he grunted.
“(Y/N)” He said in a warning tone.
“let’s try to stop the pain before it gets bad this time~” You sit up. He didn’t say anything but you could tell he was about to pounce.
And you were right. You shot a web to hold his arms together and it made him fall next to you.
“fuck!” He tried to get lose.
“you aren’t getting out of that for a while baby” You help him sit up next to a desk and squat in front of him. He looked pissed but still took deep breaths in to smell you. He probably thought you didn’t notice.
“you’re such an animal” You watch as his eyes slowly turn red. You trace over his eyebrows with your finger.
“well, you get what you signed up for..” He struggled against the web.
You looked down at his crotch and back up at him. He removed his suit without another word and you were greeted with a large tent in his black briefs.
He let out a deep groan when your tongue traced the underside of it. His dick jumped for you and precum beads were prominent, leaking through the fabric.
You teasingly spread the sticky substance around and he jolted.
“i’m gonna get you back for this” He angrily said to you.
“oh i’m counting on it” You kissed the tip before slowly peeling his boxers from his pulsing cock. “but i would be careful with what i said if i were you..”
You wrap a hand around the base of his dick and lean it away from his stomach and toward you.
“you want to cum, don’t you?” You smirk while slowly stroking him.
You knew he wanted to curse at you by the look on his face.
“awe, don’t look so upset” You coo while rubbing his leaking tip with your thumb. He let out a broken moan and inhaled sharply.
“(Y/N) please” He said just above a whisper, tugging at the ropes even more now.
You give the round area a few kitty licks. “please what Miguel?” You ask, already knowing what he wanted.
You started to slowly tug your shorts down while staring into his pleading eyes.
“let me pleasure you” He says shakily.
“i don’t know…” You tease. You wanted more than anything for him to put his mouth to better use, but you had to keep it together.
“i need to taste you… please” He groaned, feeling you start to jerk him off.
“hm..” You clench your legs together as you felt your clit pulsing from his begging. “well when you ask so nicely..” You stand up and lean onto the corner of one of his desks.
“its all yours if you can get to me” You cross your arms as you wait patiently for him to come over.
He stood himself up and started to walk over. You shot webs at the bottom half of his legs and he fell to his side. He grunted and cursed.
“oops” You say innocently. He glared at you while doing a worm like motion toward you. You knew that one of these days he’ll get you back, so why not have as much fun as possible?
He finally reached you, looking frustrated, and embarrassed. “what a good boy” You pat the side of his face.
You kicked him off of his side and onto his back. You hover his face with a mix of blood and ecstasy coating your inner thighs. He shuddered again, looking completely out of it.
“you’re disgusting” You scoff, he looks up at you while he shamelessly cleans your legs with his tongue.
“you’re right” He says before lapping at you like a thirsty dog. You stifle back a moan and did your best to keep yourself up.
You didn’t want to dim by ourself this time, and thankfully you wouldn’t have to do much now since he was already hard as stone.
You reach behind you and clumsily grab his deck before stroking at the same speed as his tongue.
“haah~” His warm breath blanketed your clit while his tongue was deep in your hole. “hmm~”.
Suddenly you feel your senses tingle and a few seconds later,the lady door opens.
“anybody up there?” An English accent calls out.
Miguel stops and looks at you with wide eyes. “we need to stop, he’s going to come up here!” He whispers.
You look down at him for a second in thought. “… Miguel, my love… who told you to stop?” You raise an eyebrow before sliding yourself back and slowly sinking onto his large dick.
“elloooo..?”
He hit the floor of the laboratory causing a loud bang. You held your breath as you took him in, feeling the bliss of him stretching you.
“so much for staying quiet…” You look down at him and he was biting down on his teeth. How badly you wanting him to sink his fangs into you, but you knew the consequences.
“what was that-“ You hear Hobie ask quietly.
“he’s gonna come up here” Miguel said with an ashamed look on his face.
“guess you better hurry then” You grin at him. You lean forward and put your hands around his neck to keep yourself upright, making sure not to press to hard onto his wind pipe.
Your thighs were making lee noises with each thrust they came in contact.
“do you still want to stop?” You ask, applying more pressure to the sides of his neck. He looked so fucked out already. You were proud of yourself.
“…no…” His face was now turning pink.
You moved faster and heard Hobies footsteps on the ground floor. “maybe i should go up there..” He debated.
“you hear that, miguel? he might come up” You say quietly. You lean down to kiss him, tasting yourself in his tongue.
You decide to cut through the webs and let hir arms and legs move.
He immediately reached for your ass, sinking his claws into your flesh, making you gasp.
You heard a *fwip* and remember quickly that Hobie was still in the room.
hobie just leave, we’re busy You say to the man.
“…right then” He leaves and you hear him tell the others that you were there.
Miguel’s would thrusts were stimulation every part of you, making you cum all over him. He came as well with one more thrust. He buried himself deep inside of you and you hum at the feeling of his heavy load filling you.
You slowly lifted off of him, receiving what sounded like a whimper from the man. A mix of everything was spilling out of you now. And you sat yourself on his strong thighs.
His dick was limp against your leg and you both were quietly catching your breath.
Looking down and seeing his painted face and cock put a smile on your face. He sat up on his elbows and raised an eyebrow at you.
“what?”
“you liked that, didn’t you?” You tease. He looked away, rolling his eyes.
“so what if i did” He challenged. You grab his face and squeeze his cheeks. He looked at you with a unamused expression.
“then you’re an even bigger pervert than i imagined” You say before letting him pull you into another kiss.
(A/N): hope you like it sorry i took longer than expected 😭🤎
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woso-dreamzzz · 4 months
Text
Breakfast II
Ellie Carpenter x Daniëlle van de Donk x Child!Reader
Summary: Your pitch check is interrupted by someone familiar
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You rub your eyes as your Mamma unwraps the sandwich she'd packed for you. Honestly, it's a bit too early for you to be fully awake because you and Ellie went out to the cinema last night while Mamma did media stuff for the club.
You didn't particularly want to join in on the pitch check (it was the same pitch as usual) but Mamma had lured you with the promise of food and a nap before the game started.
"Ellie, no," You whine when Mamma's girlfriend tries to take a piece," It's mine."
"What?" She jokes," You can't share?"
You wrinkle your nose at her. "No."
"Oh, come on!"
You stick your tongue out at her and she laughs, mushing your hat further down on your head so it almost covers your eyes.
"Ellie!"
"What, I didn't do anything!"
"Mamma! Ellie's eating my food again!"
"Daan, don't listen to her! I was only joking!"
Your Mamma made a point of ignoring you both and letting you squabble between yourselves. You had gotten better with Ellie as time went on and now all of your arguments were small and over little things rather than what the big battles they used to be.
"Alright! That's it!" Ellie grabs you suddenly, flipping you over her shoulder in a fireman's carry, making sure to bounce more than necessary as she runs to catch up with Daan.
You shriek at the movement and Mamma smiles fondly at you as you try to reach out for help. She just holds your hand in hers, swinging it between your bodies as Ellie munches on your sandwich, leaving half it for you.
"Ellie!" You laugh as she spins around quickly before dumping you on the floor, where you stumble around dizzily for several seconds before slumping to the ground.
"Mamma!" You say," Ellie's being mean again!"
"And what do you want me to do about that?" Mamma teases.
You pretend to think for a moment. "You should tell her off! Or...Or do the same to her!"
Both Mamma and Ellie laugh at you.
"I'm being serious!"
Mamma runs a hand through your head and offers you back your sandwich. "We'll see," She says finally," If Ellie's being mean later I'll definitely tell her off."
You stink your tongue out at Ellie in triumph, who just rolls her eyes at you.
"I'm bored," You declare not even five minutes later as you walk between your mother and her girlfriend," Can I get a snack?"
"Is the food I feed you not enough?" Mamma asks with a wry smile and you give her a deadpan look.
"Snacks? Please?"
She sighs like you've greatly inconvenienced her even though you all know that she's joking. She fishes some money out of her pocket and send you on your way.
"I want a chocolate!" She yells after you.
"And get me a drink!" Ellie yells too.
"Get your own, Ellie!" You answer her with your own joking smile as you scamper back inside to the nearest vending machine.
You have to stand on your very tiptoes to reach the higher numbers but you manage to get your snacks, Mamma's chocolate and Ellie's drink - although you know that you won't be letting her get it off you so easily.
"Well, well, well," A familiar voice says from behind you," If it isn't the littlest van de Donk. Fancy seeing you here!"
"Leah!" You exclaim, running into her arms.
"Hey, there!" Leah hugs you back tight and ruffles your hair. "Long time no see."
"You're playing Mamma soon!" You tell her and the other Arsenal girls who yell out their own greetings to you.
"We are," Leah agrees before nodding to the treats in your hands," Is that for me?"
"Actually, Leah, I'm pretty sure they must be for me," A very familiar voice joins you and you turn to look at Beth.
Mamma and Beth were together a long time before Mamma got with Ellie. Beth used to take you to school and help with your baths at night.
When you and Mamma left and they broke up, you didn't hear from Beth anymore.
You're not too sure how to react to her so you just smile politely and scamper off back onto the pitch. You break out into a sprint the moment you can't hear the Arsenal girls. You can't find Mamma anywhere.
It's like she's disappeared on you.
So, you run to the next best thing.
Ellie is talking with Lindsey and she almost loses her balance when you crash into her.
Lindsey laughs. "Alright there, roadrunner? Meep, meep!"
But Ellie just looks at you with a frown, taking in the way your shoulders are rising and falling and you send worried glances back at the tunnel.
"Whoa, whoa," Ellie says," What's going on?" She follows your gaze. "What happened?"
"Where's Mamma?" You answer with your own question," I...I want Mamma."
"Daan's doing an interview," Ellie answers," Why?"
You look up at Ellie with wide eyes. "Mamma and Beth used to date."
"Yes?"
"Beth's here," You continue," But I haven't talked to her in a while. Do I have to be friends with Beth because she and Mamma used to date?"
Ellie pulls you into her arms, squeezing you nice and tight against her. "You don't have to be friends with anyone you don't want to."
"Who isn't she friends with?" Mamma appears behind you, looking a little confused. The snacks you got are scattered on the floor and you're hugging Ellie just as tight as she's hugging you - something that never really happens and never in public like now.
"Beth's here," You say," Do I have to be friends with her?"
Mamma misunderstands you. "You can still be friends with Beth if you want."
You shake your head and try to explain more but Beth's approaching and you find yourself sliding behind Ellie.
"Hey, Daan," Beth says, hugging Mamma, who hugs her back," Ellie." She smiles at you. "It's good to see you, y/n."
You smile politely again and busy yourself with opening your packet of sweets. Your hands are shaking slightly and you can't think why.
You know Beth.
You like Beth.
But her presence and smiling face still makes you feel nervous.
You lean some of your weight against Ellie, whose hand immediately clamps onto your shoulder in comfort.
Mamma and Beth talk for a while but Ellie keeps you busy and distracted by letting you take long chugs of her drink - even though it's very sugary and Mamma would never let you have it if she hadn't been talking to Beth.
"She's gotten so big," Is what Beth's saying when you tune back into their conversation," I remember when she was tiny. Does she still like being carried on your hip?"
"She likes riding on shoulders," Ellie cuts in when she notices you tense at Beth reminiscing," Don't you?"
You nod. "I'm too big to sit on Mamma and Ellie's hips."
Beth looks at you a little strangely for a moment before nodding with a little laugh. "God, you used to follow me around all the time. I miss my little shadow sometimes."
For you ears early, Ellie mutters," But not enough to call every once in a while." She spoke a bit louder for Mamma and Beth to hear too," She doesn't really like following anyone around anymore." She pokes at your cheek teasingly. "She's too independent."
Mamma rolls her eyes. "Independent?" She gives you a toothy smile, leaning down to kiss your head. "You crawled into bed with us last night because Ellie took you to a scary movie."
"It wasn't a scary movie!" Ellie defends," It just had a few freaky parts! It was animated!"
"Ellie told me too!" You say quickly," She said that I could sleep with you!"
Mamma laughs, ruffling your hair. "So I have Ellie to blame, huh?"
"We're partners in crime," Ellie says and you burrow into her side with a silly grin," Me and her forever."
You catch Beth's eye. She looks a little misty-eyed and you can just tell that she's thinking of the little girl you used to be and not the you that's standing in front of her now.
But you're not that little girl anymore and you look away to face Ellie, who is happy to meet your eyes and take your head in hers.
You're very clearly still feeling awkward around Beth, especially as she reminisces about how little you used to be when she first met you, so Ellie pulls you into her side.
"Hey, Daan," She says," Me and my partner in crime are going to head back inside. My drink's done."
"Are you getting more snacks out the vending machine?" Daan teases and you look up at her with an innocent smile. "Oh, don't give me that look!"
"What look?" You tease.
Mamma pokes at your cheek. "That look. You want me to bankroll your snack spree."
You bat your eyelashes at her. "Is it working?"
Mamma laughs, slapping a small wad of cash into your hands. "Don't go crazy. You'll get a stomach ache." She points at Ellie. "I mean it."
Ellie winks and presses a kiss to Mamma's cheek before hoisting you up onto her shoulders. "Bye Daan!"
"Bye Mamma!" You say, waving as Ellie carts you away," Bye Beth!"
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rodolfoparras · 4 months
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okay i have this issue where my zoloft makes me like… really sweaty for some reason??? just all the time night or day hot or cold. anyways i was just thinking abt reader who has something like that and is always trying to shower before price can tell meanwhile price whi is just Obsessed with how his sweaty bf smells 😩
i want to send more anons but i get nervous… but could i be 🐶 or 🐾 anon?
Pairing: John Price x Male Reader
Cw: 18+, scent kink, somnophilia,
Price would rather be caught dead than to openly admit this but he loves the way you smell.
And while many may say that they feel the same way about their own partners, they probably haven’t gotten hard just from their partner’s sweat and musk. They probably haven’t had their nose buried deep in one of their partner’s dirty gym shirts or worn work uniform while jerking off. They probably haven’t spent hours buried between their partner’s legs because they liked the way their partner’s cologne or lotion smelled.
Yeah Price would rather be caught dead than admit to any of it.
And while a part of him feels guilty for not telling you about it another part of him cant help but find it exciting
You’ll happily let him cuddle up in your embrace after a long day, completely unaware of the thoughts rushing through his head. You don’t say a thing when you notice most of your clothes missing, and you’ll happily let him suck you off, not putting much thought into what’s gotten him so worked up.
But you find out soon enough.
It’s when you get home from work one day, limbs aching, and in need of sleep but before you can do so you desperately need to get under a hot stream.
However Price is adamant on getting you in bed, and while you’d happily stumble into the sheets with him, he had made it clear that he just wants to sleep.
“Let’s just go to bed” he says, wrapping an arm around your waist and gently nudging you over to the bed.
“But I’ll be quick, I promise, give me like 5 minutes,” you insist, not budging an inch.
“Don’t you think I know you kid? You’ll wake up the whole neighborhood by the time you’re done, besides I don’t get what’s the issue here,” Price says while folding his arms across his chest
“The issue is that I stink” you say thinking that will be enough to convince him.
“Not like you’re going anywhere anyways” You raise a brow at his words, and he only mirrors your action in response.
“Fine you win” you say with a roll of your eyes trying your best to hide your smile . “But if I hear any complaining about how I smell I’m kicking you out of bed,”
“Just turn the lights off, will you?” He says with a chuckle before he lays down.
“Yeah yeah” is all you say as you discard your pants and Price takes a second to appreciate the view before the room is engulfed in darkness.
As soon as you lay down in bed he crawls up into your embrace, burying his head in your neck while wrapping his arms around your waist.
Price let’s out a relived sigh.
This is all he’d wanted today, to feel your warm skin press up against him, to hear your heartbeat against his ear and to have your smell engulf his senses.
He feels relaxed, at ease, should be falling asleep but instead he feels his cock twitching in attention
Fuck.
Price’s eyes snap open, cerulean eyes gazing into the darkness, painfully aware of the way blood is pooling to his lower half all of a sudden.
You on the other hand, are dead asleep next to him. He can hear the soft snores escaping your lips.
Price can't blame you. It’s been a long day for you. He too should go to sleep, but instead he’s painfully hard because he can smell you all over him.
How fucking embarrassing.
Price scoffs at himself, tries to pull away from your embrace but just as he tries to do so you tighten your arms around his waist.
Great.
Price exhales, squeezes his eyes shut, tries to scramble his brain for anything that might kill his boner but it’s practically impossible when he’s a hair away from your pit, engulfed in the smell of your cologne and the sweat that’s still sticking to your skin.
On top of that he’s got his hard on firmly pressed up against your very naked thighs.
He can’t think about anything other than about how much he needs you right now.
I really wouldn’t mind if you woke me up during the night or you know, if you didn’t..
The words you had once said to him ring through his head, and for a second he wonders if he should take you up on the offer. I mean you did said you wouldn’t mind it but…
Before he can register what he’s doing, he starts moving his hips, eyes fluttering shut as needy noises start escaping his lips.
It’s disgusting
it’s wrong
He shouldn’t be doing this
But he can’t get himself to stop moving his hips.
Whines and whimpers escape his lips as he continues to rock his hips, head burying deeper in your chest and engulfing himself in your scent completely.
You’re still asleep going by your soft snores and the way you lay lax next to him. Something about the fact that you’re unaware of what he’s doing has goosebumps rising across his skin, and slowly but surely he feels himself inching closer to his release.
“Please,” he croaks out just the way he would if he was riding your cock right now and that’s all it takes before he’s tipping over the edge, coming with a cry and soiling his sweats.
“John?” He hears your sleep coated voice trickle through the dark.
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gloomyhearts · 6 months
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Bundle of joy ~ Vivianne Miedema x f!Reader
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Her sweet wife's expecting and her teammates being just like family.
Tw: Mention of vomit and a swear..
Wrapped in your coat only your eyes and scrunched nose looking out you sat behind the bench of her team; Viv organized you a bandage for the seat. When the team walks back to the locker room Katie and some other wave at you and as Vivianne makes her way past you she stops at the railing. “Look at you all freezing up, just wearing gloves, what are you hoping for,” you laughed and she rolls her eyes. Her hand reaching for yours intertwining them, “You okay?” She knitted her brows. “you’re quite passive just some jogs.”
“Yeah, yeah, someone kicked me against my shine.”
“Nasty.”
“You can say that loud. Are you alright?” her eyes wandering from yours down to your abdomen.
“I’m fine, we’re fine” her lips curl up and her dimple visualizes on her cheek. “You’re rocking it Anna,” you squeeze her hand, the goner laughed, and you showed how you have her finger crossed, she gives you another radiant smile before disappearing into the dugout.
When the game ends her eyes search for you on your designed seat. “You good Miedema?” her thick accent filling the air.
“Yeah just looking..”
“For Y/N? I think she left ten minutes ago.” The woman takes off as the words left katies mouth.
Banging on the several doors in the restroom she hears heavy breathing behind the last one. “Schatje,” she raises her hand and knocks hesitantly on the door, “can you let me in?”
“It’s open,” you mumble, and she slowly pushes the door open. “It hit out of the blue, couldn’t even watch the end.”
Her hand rubs over your back, her other holding your hair back, “it’s alright, it wasn’t even important.”
“Every game is important for me, seemingly not for her.” Your head rests in your hand as you take deep breaths in.
“She cannot quite understand it,” Viv lets out a chuckle and takes your cheek in her hand.
“Don’t, I stink.”
“So, do I.”
“You don’t wanna kiss me with all the vomit.”
“I’d always kiss you but if you don’t feel like it it’s okay.” She rises to her feet holding out a hand for you, “you wanna come into the changing room and wait for me?”
“I don’t know I’m not sure if the nausea is gone,” you take her hand, and she helps you on your feet.
“Good, small steps, okay? So how are we?” leading you out of the stall and towards the sinks, getting some water in her hands she attaches it to your skin, a prickling feeling runs through your body. “You’re doing so well.”
“I’m just standing.”
“Yeah, and that’s enough,” she places her hands on your tummy which is hid in your coat. “We’re almost done, only a few weeks.” She pecks your cheek, then the other and at last your forehead. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you, my love,” you bring your arms around your neck and snuggle into the crock of her neck, the sweaty smell almost calming you. “I’m ready let’s get this done.”
She guides you into the changing room where you’re meet with cheers and shouting from her mates, Beth almost jumping you to the ground, Viv could catch the two of you before worse could happen. “I can’t believe only a few weeks,” she squeaks still jumping up and down. Two strong arms sling around your body as Katie pulls you into her embrace “Can’t leave before aunty Katie said hello,” she lowers her head to the bump, “Yo hello bud in there, it’s your favourite don’t upset your mommies they’re doing their best and beyond. Can’t wait until you’re here.”
“Oh, girls you’re so sweet,” tears built up in your eyes and your bottom lip trembles they’re taking the cue and hold you in their embrace until Vivianne is ready to go home. “Okay guys see you tomorrow,” she waves for them, and you both step out.
The first days back home with your little bundle of joy was everything besides joy, screaming, crying, vomiting, pooping, people who say it’s easy peasy lemon squeezy should rod in hell. Hectic that was your new normal. Don’t get this wrong the birth of your baby girl was next to your wedding day the best day in your life, Heleen is a sweet girl and looks just like her mom but then she got this cold in the first days being home, she gets fuzzy and screams almost the whole day, neither of you could keep an eye shut, your hearts breaking at her being sick.
After this bumpy start the three of you fell perfect into the family routine and life. The only thing that was a topic that you discussed with your wife was football. She paused training with the girls the first month of Heleen’s life, she needed to get back on the pitch, stay in form, train for her to be part of the squad but that wasn’t as important to her than her family.
“Viv, it’s been a month you can’t stay home and workout here.”
“Why so?
“We don’t have the capacitate nor the girls to push you. You miss them. I know,” you caresses her cheek as you step closer to her in the rocking chair. “They need you. We got this; you still have half of the day with us my love.”
“But what if I don’t want to leave you?”
“I don’t want it either but there are some things we can’t change. We’ll come around as much as we can,” you peck her cheek and rest your head on hers as your hands hold her face. “You’re not a bad person, it’s your job.”
Marking her tenth month she was the first time in the stadium with you, the noise cancelling headphones on her head as she cradles in your arm eyes sparkling as she observes her surroundings. “Quite lovely innit Hel?” you kiss her occipital. “Look there’s mommy,” you point towards your wife who walks behind Beth onto the pitch, she squeaks and jumps in your lap. Heleen fell asleep around the twentieth minutes.
Viv scored twice that day and sent you a heart each time. Your daughter wakes before them and sees them as well, so you think cause she somewhat claps her small hands together, making you giggle. When the games ends you moved closer to the pitch with your daughter tight pressed into your body.
“Look who’s there,” you turn her in your grip, “your favourite aunty.” Katie sees you and runs over to you almost crashing into some other player.
“Look at you, all proud of aunty to win,” she raises her hands towards you, and you hand your daughter to the other woman.
“But careful Katie,” one brow raised, and your pointing finger dared on her.
“You know me.”
“Yeah, the biggest argument.”
“Let’s get you to your mommy,” she coos and walks over to Viv who was wrapped in a conversation with Beth and Caitlin.
“Oh, who’s there!”
“Our biggest fan!”
“Hartendief,” Viv tickles her side, and she wiggles in Katie’s grip and then she takes her off her aunties arm and into her body. “I scored for you have you seen that?” she whispers into her little ear, “I’m very happy you’re here.” She pecks her forehead and joins the conversation again, a smile plastered on her lips.
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emmyrosee · 4 months
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Rintaro watches Kaiya, and nine times out of ten, he's the most through, loving husband and father you could ever ask for. He’s mindful of what he’s doing with his daughter, but still leaves her a small amount of independence that lets her little six year old mind thrive.
But one out of ten, he crumbles. This time, is the one.
Rintaro’s finally splurged money on this game to play with osamu and akagi, and both of them are finally on, so he happily sets up Kaiya next to him while he plays, giving her coloring books and toys to make do with quietly.
When she gets bored with that, she curls up on Rintaro’s lap, tiny hands playing with his hair and hitting him with pillows.
Then, finally, after too much normal… she speaks.
"Daddy?"
"Yes, angelface?"
"Wanna be like you," she says, climbing off the couch and rocking back and forth on her heels. “Wanna look like you daddy…” Rintaro flashes a smile and turns to her, pausing the game and turning to her, leaning forwards to kiss her tiny nose akin to yours.
“Kaiya, you can be anything you want to be,” he says, reaching out to ruffle her hair. “Mommy and the twins are gonna be home soon, so let’s surprise her, okay?”
“Okay daddy!” She squeals excitedly, her feet toddling back down the hall to the playroom. Rintaro chuckles and shakes his head as he unpauses his game, shooting the enemies and doing a terrible job of censoring when he loses.
He barely processes when you get home, only snapping him out of his zone when you kiss his head and he jumps a foot in the air.
“Hey momma,” he says, pausing his game and stretching. “How was the pediatrician?”
“Look dadda!” Sachiko says, showing him her arm which is covered by a my little pony bandaid.
Rintaro blows his eyes wide, “woah! My brave girl!” He reaches up to pinch her cheek playfully, which she giggles from. “How about you Sachie, you got one?”
“Ripped it off in the car,” you chuckle. “Where’s our other terrors?”
“Akito’s playing his games and Kaiya’s playing dress up,” he answers, flashing you a smile. “She wants to be like me.”
Your brows raise playfully, “oh she does, does she? Wants to be a pain in mommy’s butt?”
“Always,” he says, grinning.
You jostle the twins, “come on, let’s go check on sissy!”
“Otay mumma!”
“Yayyyy!”
Rintaro watches as you walk away with the tiny humans, shaking his head and turning back to his game with a smile, satisfied in his fatherly duties and he can’t wait to take pictures with his little mini-me, dressed in his clothes and-
“KAIYAAAA NAAAAAOOOO!”
You scream. Rin’s heart stops.
Immediately, your shriek rocks the house, making Rintaro absolutely leap off the couch, not even bothering to pause his game and making a dash up the stairs to meet you.
He sees the bathroom door open, his tiny twins watching in awe on the floor now while your hands cover your mouth in horror, and akito laughing into his fist having also been roused from his video games. At least he found this amusing.
When Rintaro pokes his head around the corner to see the action, his jaw slacks as his beautiful six year old, his tiny little mini-me and smart little stink-
Has officially cut her hair.
Short.
Just like his.
“Kaiya!” He begins, more in shock than a scold, “what did you do!”
“Wanna look like you daddy!” She cheers happily.
“THATS NOT WHAT I THOUGHT YOU MEANT!”
The two twins waddle into the room to play with the fallen hair from Kaiya’s head, gathering wads of it and trying to pass it to you.
Akito lays a hand on your shoulder, “Ma? You okay?”
Rintaro rubs a hand along your back, “babe…?”
“I leave you… with her… for FIVE. MINUTES!” You scream, and thankfully, it’s met with laughter from the three littlest children in the room. “What-! I don’t even-! When did-! RINTARO-“
“Hey hey, it’s alright!” He says easily, pulling you in for a hug, “it’s just hair baby, it’ll grow back!”
“SHE COULDVE GOTTEN HURT!”
“But she didn’t-“
“Don’t even start defending, Rintaro,” you snarl, and with fury you walk over to Kaiya and scoop her into your arms to inspect her.
Akito claps a hand on Rintaro’s back with a fresh, “good luck,” before turning on his heel to leave the bathroom and let his father be scolded. Rintaro sighs and moves to pick up the twins in his arms, watching you like a scolded child as you check her for injuries.
“I really didn’t know,” he says softly, planting a kiss to Sachie’s hair. “I just thought… she’d play dress up or something. Wear my jersey or something.”
You sigh and fist your hands tightly, “it’s got nothing to do with the actual hair cut, Rin,” you explain. “And you know I don’t care about leaving her for a bit to play video games. But she could’ve gotten so hurt! Where’d she even get scissors!”
Your teeth are gritted together roughly, so tight he wanted to massage your jaw to make it better.
But he’s positive if he touched you, you’d bite him.
“We were doing arts and crafts,” he answers quietly.
You take a deep inhale in through your nose, then slowly release it from your mouth, “come on Kaiya. Show mommy your crafts.” You bounce her slightly with a smile, “daddy’s gotta go stand in time out until he’s 40!”
She giggles while you two leave, leaving him with the twins playing with the collar of his shirt.
“Mumma mad?” Sachie asks.
“Oh yeah,” he chuckles.
“Dadda bad?” Sachiko asks.
Once again, he chuckles and plants a kiss to their heads, making them giggle and plop wet kisses on his cheeks, “ohhh yeah…
“He sure is, girls.”
——
Tagging 🥺🩷 @reverie-starlight @wolffmaiden @thoreeo @aliensknowmyillusions @tutuwusworld @lavishcherie @sassycheesecake @cheolattes @rrairey @dira333 @unknownspecies @fluffytriceratops
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dudestinky1235 · 22 days
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“I’m not doing this dare anymore ” I said “No you won’t or else I’ll beat the shit out of you.” He grabbed my head and positioned his ass onto my face. The smell was already too much. He started rubbing his smelly ass in my face “Take it ALLL in dude” he said. “Tyrell it reeks!” I moaned into his dirty ass. “Ya that’s the point” he said with a snicker. “Let me go!” I yelled. “You��re getting pretty annoying.” He ripped off a small piece of duct-tape and placed it over my mouth. “Now get back in there and finish the dare” Tyrell said with a laugh. I didn’t want to get beaten up so I voluntarily placed my face by his ass. “Get in there closer. Nick, is he in a good position? He needs to be because the dare was to sniff up all my farts for 10 minutes” Tyrell asked Nick who was filming the whole thing. Nick grabbed the back of my head and pushed it against his ass, while turning my head upwards so that my nostrils we pressed right up against his asshole. “He is now” Nick said with a grin. “Hahaha, dude I can literally feel his nose pressing right against my asshole. Man, Benny are you ready because this is going to stink and you have to breath it right in!!” Tyrell laughed. I could only breath out of my nose now and I was already gagging from the smell of Tyrell’s ripe ass. “There now just relax and enjoy the breeze.” he said sarcastically. “I ate three cans of beans for lunch today, and chili for dinner and I haven’t shit yet so you’re in for a good time.” I moaned as I felt the gust on my nose with the sound of a fart with it. It was the worst thing I ever smelt in my life. I would have gladly spent a year in a public men’s bathroom then be there at that point. “Aw ya smell that bro? Smells good right?” The toxic ass fumes were making me dizzy. I just kept my face there and accepted my fate at that point. Fart after fart it went on forever and Tyrell was loving it. “It’s getting kind a hot now, back up” As I removed my face he pulled down his white boxers and got back into position. He was right it was hot. His ass was wet and sweaty which just made matters worse. He grabbed the back of my head and shoved my face into his hot sweaty ass crack “Get in there.” he said. My nose was touching right up to his hole. At that point I had no more energy to struggle. He released a wet 10 second long fart directly into it. “No filtration, much better right?” he said. “Dude, I’m getting all of this on video!” Nick laughed. It smelled like shit, literally it smelled like he was about to shit in my face. He didn’t tough. He let rip over and over for another half hour and I just took it like his little fart bitch. Even though the dare was only ten minutes Tyrell was having too much fun toroturing me to stop..
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ddejavvu · 1 year
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Thick Thighs Save Lives - Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader x Jake 'Hangman' Seresin
Summary: Being the only aviator with meat on your bones is tough. It's even more tough when you're stuck showering with two of your teammates.
Contents/Warnings: smut (minors dni), double penetration, fingering (vaginal and anal, f receiving), oral (m receiving), dirty talk, shower sex, protected sex, spit kink, body insecurities, mid/plus!sized reader, self-deprecation, arguing, angst with a fluffy/smutty ending
WC: 5.5K / navi
feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!
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If there’s anything you don’t want to hear during a not-so-friendly game of beach football, it’s ‘shit!’. The exclamation comes from Coyote who’s branched off to your towels on the sand, fingers curled around his watch, “We’re late.”
“How late?” Phoenix is already adjusting her ponytail, as it’s frazzled from the action. She’s squinting in the sun and remedies it by knocking her sunglasses down off of her head and onto her nose. It’s smooth, and she knows it by the soft smirk that curls at her lips.
“We have twenty minutes to get on the road.” 
“Shit,” Rooster parrots, dropping the ball where he stands, which is how you know he’s panicked too, “We all need showers. Penny’s gonna kill us if we stink up the restaurant.”
“We can go in teams,” Fanboy decides, already sprinting over to his towel, “We don’t have time for individual ones.”
Before you can get a word in edgewise Coyote and Phoenix are rushing to join him, Bob hot on their trail. The showers are spacious, sure, but you wouldn’t exactly volunteer to share them with anyone. 
With a terrible sinking feeling in your stomach you realize that the only three left are you, Rooster, and Hangman. That means the only way you’ll get to Penny and Maverick’s engagement party is if you shower together.
They’re already at their towels, scrubbing sand out of their hair and strapping their watches back on. Hangman’s is a thick, black leather band, and you can see flecks of sand marring the sleek strap from where it laid on the towel. Rooster’s is thinner, brown in color and gold around the rim. His is clean, but he puts it on his sweaty, sandy wrist. It won’t be for long.
Both men are shirtless, too-tight jean shorts squeezing their waists. You make a point not to stare as you trek back to your towel, already picking up on their competitive banter before you’ve even stood beside them.
“-probably use all my shampoo,” Hangman scoffs, clenching his towel tight in his fist, “You always steal my shit, Bradshaw.”
“I think it’s only fair seeing as you steal my gel!” Rooster quips back, gesturing to Hangman’s stiff, shiny hair, untouched even after your game, “Isn’t it fucking weird, Y/L/N? How much he uses?”
Rooster looks back at you for confirmation, someone on his side. But you’re too disheartened to respond, dreading your impending doom. All you offer is a meager, “Yeah.”, that curls a frown under Rooster’s mustache.
“You hurt yourself or something?” Hangman raises an eyebrow, stunned by your lack of teasing, “I think we need to call the doctor, you didn’t just insult me.”
“I’m fine.” You grumble, towel held around your waist despite the presence of your rash guard, “Just tired from football.”
“Well get ready,” Rooster warns you, “Mav’s gonna have to tell us all about how he and Penny met, and I’m really hoping he withholds the details on the little rendezvous that got him in trouble with her dad, but I know he won’t.”
You shudder for a moment, if only to please him, to throw him off your scent. You’re tired, there’s not any other reason you’re in a funk. You’re tired.
You are tired. You’re tired of caring, of constantly thinking about it. You’re tired of wearing a rash guard to the beach instead of a swimsuit, because everyone else is smaller than you. You’re tired of watching people’s eyes, tracking them to make sure that if they ever dip below your chest there’s something in front of your stomach to block it from their view. You’re tired of adjusting your uniform to make it looser, you’re tired of leaning against the bar instead of sitting at it, you’re just tired.
You are tired. You’re tired of caring, of constantly thinking about it. You’re tired of wearing a rash guard to the beach instead of a swimsuit, because everyone else is smaller than you. You’re tired of watching people’s eyes, tracking them to make sure that if they ever dip below your chest there’s something in front of your stomach to block it from their view. You’re tired of adjusting your uniform to make it looser, you’re tired of leaning against the bar instead of sitting at it, you’re just tired.
“Hey,” Hangman’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, admittedly less grating and irritating than it normally is “You sure you’re okay?”
You blink and they’re staring at you, brows furrowed and limbs frozen in place. You wish that the waves lapping gently at the sand would crash onto shore and swallow you whole, sweep you up in a tidal wave of salt water and seaweed so that you wouldn’t have to answer.
“I’m fine,” You grit, slipping your feet into your shoes and rushing to stand outside the showers, “C’mon, we’ll be late.”
--
You had hoped that they’d get too busy bickering with each other to ever find you. But here they come, not five minutes later, just as Phoenix steps out of the steamy bathroom. A towel is wrapped around her torso and Hangman exaggerates his ogling of her, only turning your stomach further.
“Perfect timing,” He drawls, and she rolls her eyes. 
Bob steps out next, taking one look at her face and stepping in front of her, “Your turn, Bagman. Try not to use all the gel.”
“See?” Rooster nudges you, his elbow against your arm as Bob and Phoenix walk away, “I told you! It’s absurd, he slathers it on like cement.”
“He’s gotta,” Coyote drawls, reaching over to knock on Jake’s head, “Otherwise his head’d sound as empty as it is.”
The two engage in a good-natured shoving match, but it’s one that nearly sends Coyote’s towel cascading to the ground, and you keep your eyes firmly on the tiny bottles of shampoo and conditioner that you’d brought. You read over the ingredients, as if sodium laureth sulfate and glycol distearate will keep your mind off of your humiliation.
“You said you’re fine,” Bradley murmurs from beside you, “But if it’s something you just don’t wanna say around Hangman, he’s not listening.”
Part of you is less embarrassed to be honest and exposed to Rooster than Hangman. But he’s still a man, an incredibly fit one at that, and you’re not sure you’d ever want to reveal it to either of them.
“I’m just nervous,” You tell him the only part of the truth you’re willing to admit. I’ve never... showered with a- a boy before. A man.”
You cringe at your misstep, but if Bradley’s amused by it, he doesn’t show it. Instead he hums, sympathetically so, “We’ll turn around, honey. Don’t worry about it, okay?”
“You’ll turn around,” You mutter, “I think it’ll just egg Jake on further.”
“What’s this I hear about eggin’ me on?” A familiar southern twang makes you tense as the man it’s coming from appears by your side, bumping his hip into yours, “You ready for our steam session, sweets?”
“Leave her alone, Hangman,” Rooster groans, feet slapping against the tiles as he goes to adjust the water. He shoves at Hangman’s back as he passes, and you stifle a giggle as the man nearly falls over.
“Hey, she’s the one that chose to shower with us,” Jake insists, and Bradley’s scoff is enough for you not to fight back, “And I would, too, if I were you, darlin’. Do you know how many ladies are lined up to see how hung Hangman is?”
You force a gag, “The only lady I see here is myself, and I’d rather smear wet sand in my eyes.”
“That’s what I’m gonna do to you if you don’t turn around and shut up,” Bradley speaks through the roar of the shower water, steam already rising from its fall, “Just drop your pants and wash your ass, so Y/L/N can shower to herself.”
“Well, well, well,” Jake smirks, towel cinched around his waist in only one hand as he stalks for the showers, “Looks like one of the ladies lined up is Bradshaw himself. Wanna see it, Rooster? Here it is.”
Jake drops his towel ceremoniously, and Bradley’s face morphs into a grimace as he turns away hastily.
“My fucking eyes,” He laments, and you pause in gathering your toilettries to laugh, while also trying very hard not to stare at Jake, “Oh my god, Y/N, you won’t have to worry about me seeing you. I’m going to pour shampoo into my eyes until I go blind.”
Jake realizes you’re taking a little too long getting ready, cocking a hip as he leans his head back to stare down his nose at you, “So what, you gonna ditch dinner, Y/L/N? Whatcha waitin’ for?”
“She’s waiting for you to stop being a perv and turn around,” Bradley comes to your rescue once again, and thankfully, Jake seems to realize it’s a real issue, pivoting until he’s facing the shower wall.
“I think she just wants a nice view of our asses,” Jake theorizes, standing with his clear on display, “Which is better, Y/N? Mine or Chicken’s?”
“Chicken,” Rooster grumbles under his breath, and if you were brave enough to actually declare a winner, you’d give it to him just for that. But, Hangman’s form is rather impressive, all tight curves and tan skin and-
And you shouldn’t be looking. You clear your throat awkwardly, peeling off your rash guard as Jake sponges his side down. There’s sand running thick down the drain and you hope it doesn’t back up, something you’d feel terrible for Penny to have to clean up.
“Uh,” Bradley stills in his place, “Shit, I think I left my shampoo over there. Y/N, could you…?”
“I got it,” You hum, reaching over for the blue bottle and tucking it in his carefully, blindly outstretched hand, “Thanks for, um- here.”
“Yep,” He nods, smearing a dot of the substance on his palm and lathering it through his hair.
“Oh no,” Jake mimics Bradley’s previous predicament, dropping the bottle in his hand so that it rests between his legs, “Y/N, could you-”
“Ass,” You drawl, reaching forwards to butt your palm against his back. He stumbles forward with a laugh, catching himself on the railing. He bends down to reach for it and you’re nervous he’ll peek at your body from between his legs, but he stays respectful, something you know he is at his core even if he pretends differently.
You find yourself relaxing against the tiled floor of the shower, feet firmly planted instead of poised to run. As much as you know neither of the men in front of you would make any rude comments about your body or your weight, there’s still the nauseating fear that they might think differently of you having seen you completely unobscured. So you’re thankful for the privacy, that lasts… well, until it doesn’t.
The snap of your conditioner cap catches the skin of your pointed finger in its jaws and a gasp clutches tight at your lungs.
“Son of a bitch!” You cry, waves of pain flowing through your finger and out towards the rest of them. On cue each man turns, eyes wide and fear-stricken, without thinking.
You know they didn’t do it on purpose. You know they instinctively thought you were hurt, and wanted to help. You know they didn’t mean to look at you. But the withering feeling in your guts knows no logic, only fear.
They’re looking, it hisses, They’re looking at everything. The way your stomach pudges into a roll at the base. The way your breasts sag. The way your thighs stretch, marks littering their stems, and present no gap.
“You’re bleeding.” Bradley observes, eyes trained faithfully on your finger, “I’ll get a bandaid.”
He rushes for the cabinets outside the shower, dripping water over the floor. Jake stands, staring, but you’re too humiliated to glance at his face and notice the soft pinky blush on his cheeks that’s spreading to his ears. 
“Here,” Bradley speaks from behind you, though he molds himself to your side when you’re still frozen in fear. He brushes a towel over your cut, the turquoise material staining red. He then undoes the waxy paper wrapping from the bandaid, sticking it tight to your skin.
“It’ll get wet,” He reminds you, “But it’ll stop soap from stinging it.”
You don’t even thank him. At your prolonged silence he glances up at Hangman, intent on giving him a concerned glance, but he sees the man’s eyes rove over your form and snaps.
“Dude,” Bradley utters gruffly, “Don’t be a perv. Come on, turn around.”
When Jake stays just as still as you, he reaches for him, shoving hard, “I said turn around!:
“Please, Jake,” You whimper, tears brimming in your eyes, “Turn around.”
“You’re crying.” Jake snaps out of his trance to frown up at you, and Bradley keeps pushing, an insistent thorn in his side, “Why are you crying?”
“Because you’re-!” You gush, lip wobbling, “You’re looking at me, and- and judging me, and-”
“Judging you,” He scoffs, eyes nearly bugging out of his head, “Best body I’ve ever seen. Case closed. Court dismissed.”
“Shut up,” You seethe, tears finally dripping down your cheeks, “Just shut up! You think this is fucking funny? You don’t think there’s a reason I didn’t want to shower with you?”
“You’re private, I get that.” He scoffs. “But if you think I’m judgin’ any part’a that, then you’re stupid, too.”
“Not the compliment you think it is,” Bradley mutters, hands still prying at Jake’s shoulder, “She told you to turn around, just do it.”
“No,” Jake doubles down, pushing Bradley away and stalking towards you, “I wanna know why you think so goddamn low of me. You really think I’d rope a woman into a shower and then pick apart what she looks like? You think that low of me?”
“It’s not about you,” You gush, hands at your sides in frustration, “It's about me! And my fucking body, okay? I’m not calling you a dick for judging me, I’m calling myself-”
“What?” Jake’s head tilts to the side, eyes glinting dangerously, “What are you calling yourself?”
“....Gross.” You finish lamely, the fire in your chest extinguishing with the poof of a sigh that escapes your lips.
He’s grabbing your hand without thinking about it, gentle but firm. You stare at him, anxiety-riddled.
“Listen here, girly. I’ve let you get away with sayin’ a lotta things about yourself. Dumbass I agree with, especially considering these circumstances. I’ve heard clumsy and stubborn, those I don’t have an issue with either. But don’t look me in my fuckin’ face and tell me you’re gross, ‘cause it’s an insult to me and my tastes.”
He squeezes your hand once before releasing it, and it feels more now like a heartfelt gesture than a threatening one. You’re breathing heavy, lungs cut short from the adrenaline of the moment, Even though Bradley isn’t pushing him anymore, standing on the sidelines waiting, watching, Hangman turns around without another word. He scrubs aggressively through his scalp and you’re almost surprised nothing bleeds, your mouth hung slightly open and your tongue leaden over your teeth.
“I’m not your type.” You finally manage to mutter, voice taut.
“Yes you are,” Jake scoffs, “How would you know?”
“I saw you eyeing up Phoenix earlier.” You roll your eyes, and if Bradley hadn’t turned around again you’d have flashed him an exasperated look.
“So? A man can like several shapes,” Jake boasts, voice losing venom, “Plus I ogle Phoenix just to piss her off.”
“It works.” Bradley cuts in, and you snort.
“Point is,” Jake drawls, and you’re sure if Bradley was in his line of sight he’d have been the victim of a very withering stare, “Don’t discredit yourself. You’ve got sexy ass thighs, woman.”
“Jesus, Jake,” Bradley sighs, “Can you just hurry up, already? I’m sure there’s nothing more Y/L/N wants than to get rid of you.”
“Oh, shut up, lapdog,” Jake deadpans, “You can’t tell me you don’t agree.”
Bradley’s silent for a moment, and your gut churns.
“Whether I do or don’t is irrelevant,” He chooses his words carefully, “Let’s just leave Y/N alone.”
“He totally does,” Jake snickers, “Hear that, Y/L/N? It’s his blush.”
“Like you weren’t blushing!” Bradley scoffs, “I looked up at you and thought you’d been temporarily replaced with a baboon’s ass.”
“Oh, that’s funny,” Jake drawls, “That’s what I think every time I see you, porn stache. Then I remember it’s just your natural charm.”
The crisis has been averted enough for you to let out a shaky laugh at their insults, and the sound catches both men’s attention.
“Listen, Y/L/N,” Jake starts, voice much kinder and softer now, “The point of this isn’t me telling Bradshaw he’s got the face of an ass. The point is to get it through your thick fuckin’ skull; you’re pretty damn sexy, y’hear?”
You snort at his callous nature, “No one’s ever told me anything like that before.”
“Yeah?’ He pauses,towel in hand that he nimbly swings over his shoulder, “Well, pardon me for lookin’, and even more for touchin’, but everyone else is fuckin’ insane.”
Before you can process his words he reaches down to palm at your thigh, a hefty squeeze that sends your flesh spilling against his palm. You stiffen, even though he stays politely away from your ass, encroaching only on territory he could also grab while you’re clothed. The feeling of his touch, no matter how chaste, elicits a noise from your throat that you wish you could pass off for a scream.
It’s not.
It’s a moan.
He stops where he’d begun pulling away, eyes sharpening slightly. You don’t dare look at Bradley, but if you did, you’d see his cock twitch.
“Did I hurt you?” Jake asks, voice low.
All you can do is shake your head, teeth digging into your lower lip helplessly.
“Did you like it?” He tries again, but this time he doesn’t accept body language as an answer/ Still hunched, he ignores your nodding and reaches up with his free hand to tug your bottom lip out from under your teeth.
“I asked you a question,” Jake croons, voice smooth and soft, “Did you like it?”
All you can whimper is a meager ‘Yes’.
Do you want me to do it again?”
“Yes.” Stronger, this time.
His hand plants itself firmly back over your thigh, thumb stretching towards the curve of your ass this time. It’s a little more suggestive, and a lot more alluring.
“Jesus,” Jake groans, kneading the soft flesh of your doughy thigh between his fingers, “Bradshaw, c’mere for a second.”
He hesitates, “Do you want me there, Y/N?”
“Yes,” You nod once more, legs stiffening and thigh tensing against Jake’s palm, “I- I do.”
“You take front,” Jake instructs, falling into place behind you with his hands now greedily prying at your ass, “And I’ll take back.”
The smile that Bradley offers you when he steps in front of you is nothing short of dreamy. It’s enough to make you blush, and he lets out a soft, breathy laugh at how forward Hangman is being while he stands giddily in front of you.
“If you say hi,” Jake drawls, hooking his chin over your shoulder and reaching around your front to grip at the seams of your inner thighs while glaring at Bradley suspiciously, “I’m going to slap you.”
“I wasn’t going to say hi,” Bradley scoffs, and you can tell by his blush that he totally was.
“Jesus, enough yammering,” Jake scoffs, turning his head to press his dewy lips into your neck, “We’re gonna be late for dinner.”
You worry, for a moment, that he’ll let go. That he’ll walk away, get dressed for the restaurant, and pretend nothing ever happened. But that’s not what he does, of course. Instead, you feel the hard press of his cock against your ass.
“I’ll be gentle,” Jake croons, feeling you tense as his hands smooth over the dip of your ass, “We’ll go slow, okay?”
“Real slow,” Bradley murmurs, and it catches your attention, reeling it back to him. You realize he’s standing much closer to you now than he had been before, lips nearly brushing yours.
The second your lips meet his in a kiss, Hangman smooths his hand between the globes of your ass. You squirm at the sensitive feeling, foreign as his fingertip brushes against your hole. But he doesn’t let up, and neither does Bradley.
Rooster’s tongue slides against your bottom lip, warm and wet. At the same time Hangman’s hands squeeze your ass, pulling apart each side and smoothing down the skin between. It sends a shiver up your spine that escapes in a puff of air between your lips, one that Bradley eagerly swallows.
Bradley’s hands grab your cheeks, thumbs brushing near your eyes and yanking you closer. You can feel Jake’s fingers carefully prodding and pressing at the tight ring of your asshole, a hitch in your breath causing you to bite down on Bradley’s lip.
“Fuck,” He hisses, coming away with a red lip and a guttural groan, “Jake, just- let up. Me first, she’s obviously sensitive.”
“She’s just tight,” Jake murmurs, lips pressing to the expanse of your shoulder, “Nothin’ I can’t fix.”
“You’ll have plenty of time to fix it,” Bradley grumbles, tearing a condom open with his teeth that he’d snagged from his wallet, “‘Cause I’m going in first, and you- shit!”
His fingers, slippery from the water and probably excess soap, drop the condom. The way that you’re arched into Hangman’s touch means that your thighs are squeezed together and bent slightly, and there’s no better way to catch a condom than between your thighs.
The foil wrapper sticks between your legs, making it easy for Bradley to pluck it out and toss the wrapper aside. Penny will find it tomorrow, because you’re sure as hell not gonna remember to get it.
“Well, whaddya know,” Jake drawls, grinning against the skin of your neck so hard you can feel it, “What they say is true. Thick thighs save lives.”
You face-plant into the water-dropped skin of Bradley’s neck, ignoring the way Hangman snickers.
“Actually, I think they just stopped a life from being conceived,” Bradley reasons, only a few sloppy strokes of his cock needed to easily slip the condom on, “But that probably saved my life, ‘cause if I got you pregnant in Penny’s bathroom, she’d slit my throat.”
The tip of Bradley’s hardened dick presses to your inner thigh, skin seldom touched and sensitive. You lean into it, but Hangman’s fingers follow, gently stroking over the rim of your ass. It’s starting to feel less foreign and more pleasurable, a twinge of something sweet licking at the underside of your belly like a rogue flame.
Bradley gently presses two fingers against your slit, ever-considerate in making sure you’re sufficiently prepped, but his eyes widen at how much slick he’s greeted with just past your folds.
“Holy shit,” He breathes, nose nudging yours as his lips brush with your own, “You’re wet.”
“Duh,” Hangman scoffs, and one of his hands abandons your ass to slip between your folds, collecting slick on their tips and dragging it back to your ass, “I’ve been touchin’ up on her for a while now.”
“Pardon me for thinking that’d work like an umbrella on a rainy day,” Bradley bitches, but you cut him off with a kiss before he can spout any other mildly insulting metaphors for how bad he thinks Hangman is in bed. You’ll vouch if you have to, he knows what he’s doing.
With each slow circle that his fingers trace around your rim, you bend back into him. Until you can feel his cock pressed stiff to your backside,just as Bradley presses his tip flush with your clit.
“Oh-,” You gasp, clit sending a shockwave of electric lust reverberating throughout your body, “Bradley, I- Inside, please, now!”
“I’m coming, sweetheart,” He croons, speaking in a velvety soft hum against your lips, “Don’t worry.”
He holds to his promise, sliding his dick down from where it’s pressed to your clit and easing it between your folds. You heave a blissful sigh at the feeling of being full, and it makes you rock backwards into Hangman’s fingers.
One breaches your hole, slipping inside with an agonizingly pleasurable burn. The stretch feels heavenly, especially because your cunt is already stretched to accommodate Bradley’s cock that slowly bottoms out inside of you.
“Good,” Jake praises, kissing beneath your ear, “I knew you could do it.”
Rooster lets out a groan at the feeling of your involuntary clench around him, eyes screwed shut. His forehead is braced against yours and you take the liberty of engaging him in another kiss, letting the pleasure of Jake’s fingers at your hole compel you to lick into Bradley’s mouth.
Being pleasured from both sides is too overwhelming. You feel yourself already rising to a climax, pressed on by both Bradley’s thick cock grating against your insides and Jake’s fingers.
You smooth your tongue over Bradley’s, gripping his shoulder when he increases his pace to be steadily fast. He’s not speeding through anything, but he’s not slow either, and it makes your insides burn.
The feeling of his cock ramming over and over and over against that spongy spot deep within you is too much, especially when Hangman slides a single, thick finger into your ass. You can’t help it, your orgasm hits you like a freight train (or perhaps a fighter jet), and you clench sporadically around Bradley’s thick, hard cock.
You whine relentlessly into his mouth, fingers clawing and prying at his damp skin as your knees go weak. You’re surprised you stay standing at all, but you funnel all of your orgasmic vigor into the kiss that Bradley eagerly licks out of you, and clutching his shoulders is enough.
Coming down from your high is jarring, especially when you realize that the steady pressure against your clit had been Bradley’s thumb the entire time. The pleasurable sensation is starting to sour with the unpleasant sting of overstimulation, and you tear his hand away eagerly, “Too much.”
“Sorry,” Bradley grunts into the kiss, the bristles of his mustache grating at your lip. 
Bradley pulls out of you, still hard and red-tipped. 
Jake takes one look down, his free hand sliding up your back while his other stays firm at your ass, “Those were pretty sounds. Look’t what they did to Bradshaw. See that, honey?”
You nod, breathless as you stare at Bradley’s impressive length.
“I think you should return the favor,” Jake muses, putting pressure against your back so that you bend in half, “Suck him off, darlin’.”
You land at eye-level with Bradley’s covered cock, and you can’t get the condom off fast enough. You drag your tongue along the underside of Bradley’s hard dick, taking the heated length into your hands and squeezing fondly at his balls. He swears low and gruff under his breath, watching your tongue snake against his slit.
Your lips curl around the head of Bradley’s cock, and the way that Jake adds a second finger to your ass makes you suck hard. You feel Bradley’s cock twitch on your tongue, and you scrape your teeth feather-light along him as you take more of him into your mouth.
He tries to keep himself still, tries not to face-fuck you, but he’s hopeless. His hips jolt forwards and you gag at the feeling of his dick hitting the back of your throat. It makes him groan, fists clenched at his side.
You bob and suckle along every inch of Bradley’s dick, licking up the vein that runs along the side and hollowing your cheeks while Jake fingers you open. When there are suddenly no fingers in your ass anymore at all, you whimper, taking Bradley’s cockhead into your fist while you try craning your neck to look back at Hangman.
“Keep going,” Jake directs you, nodding his head towards your fist, “He’s not done, and neither am I.”
You slip the hand that’s curled around Rooster’s dick and slide it up his length, rubbing gently at the base while you kitten lick the head. He pants and groans, bucking into your fist and subsequently your throat. The feeling of Jake’s dick pressed tight to your stretched hole makes you jolt forwards, and you face-fuck yourself on Bradley’s dick.
“Jesus,” He hisses, “You’re- you’re good at this, baby. C’mon, a- a little more, now.”
You let out a scream muffled by Bradley’s cock as Jake slides himself into your ass, dick grating delightfully tight against your rim. Once he bottoms out he sets a merciless pace, giving you no time to adjust before you’re being hammered into like he’s a feral animal.
“See that, Bradshaw?” Jake boasts, sending a hefty slap to your ass, “Told you she could do it. Perfect ass.”
“I see,” Bradley pants, hands tangled in your hair while you bob on his cock, “I- I’m gonna cum, honey.”
There’s barely any warning before the sight of Jake’s cock ramming into your ass gets to be too much for Bradley, but you don’t need it. You’re perfectly content to welcome his warm seed down your throat, letting it paint the inside of your mouth as you tongue him dry.
You don’t realize you’re using Bradley’s cock as a pacifier until he pushes at your forehead, hissing in oversensitivity, “Okay, okay! It’s too much,” He soothes you by sticking two of his slick-stained, thick fingers between your lips instead, “Here, honey. There y’go.”
Drool gathers at the seam of your lips and Bradley smears it away from your mouth, gathering it on his palm and licking it away. He groans at the taste, his own seed permeating your saliva, “Messy girl.”
Jake isn’t satisfied with his lack of action. Apparently, jackhammering into your ass isn’t quite enough for the guy, and he fists a hand in your hair to yank you upright with a grunt.
Bradley’s fingers slip from your lips with a pop and you cry out as Hangman manhandles you, pleasurable pain flooding your senses from the hair-pulling that start waves of a second orgasm swelling below your belly.
“Open,” Jake commands, keeping your neck bent backwards so that his face hovers over yours. You open your mouth without hesitation, and he spits inside.
Warm saliva, cooling quickly the more you stick your tongue out, pools by your throat. You eagerly swallow without being told,drool now seeping backwards down your face and towards your eyes. Jake licks it off with a broad, wet swipe of his tongue, and smears it against your lips.
The kiss is messy, upside-down and drooly, but it’s hot. Jake’s tongue licks against yours and his teeth nip at your bottom lip, a real spider-man style porno.
Your spine aches from being bent like a curly-q, but the ecstasy bleeding into your core is enough to push it to the back of your mind. You reach down to finger your clit, a whimper bleeding into Jake’s mouth at the action.
“Gonna cum, honey?” Jake drawls, “Sweet pussy’a yours gonna clench around nothin’?”
His southern drawl is stronger when he’s fucking, you note. It’s attractive.
“Not nothing,” Bradley volunteers, sticking his spit-soaked fingers up into your gaping cunt, “Cum, baby.”
You’re very good at following orders.
Your second orgasm hurts, in the best way. It tears you apart from the inside out, cunt clenching tight at Bradley’s fingers as he curls them inside of you. Jake bites hard at your lip as you ride out your second orgasm, and his dick twitches inside of you once, twice, three times before he’s letting himself go in tandem.
He fills you with warm cum, the substance gushing out of your gaped hole and oozing out around his own cock. 
“Jesus fuck,” He snaps, the words an unintelligible grunt against your lips, “So tight, and so sexy.”
Bradley’s free hand braces itself on your stomach, and the touch doesn’t make you recoil like it normally would. It’s lewd, but being splattered with their cum really makes you believe that they’re not going to judge your body.
Instead you lean into the touch, letting Bradley embrace you as you come down from your high a moaning pile of mush.
“Slow,” You warn Jake, who’s never heard the word a day in his life. He follows directions, though, easing his dick out of you and making sure it doesn’t burn.
“We need another shower,” Bradley pants after a moment of fucked-out silence. 
You nod, brain foggy, “Yeah. We- we can’t show up to the restaurant smelling like sex. They’ll know.”
--
As it turns out, you don’t need to smell like sex for everyone to know you’ve just had it. You show up forty-five minutes late, sweaty-faced and rosy-lipped, all slightly out of breath. Your dress is rumpled, and Bradley’s tie is haphazardly secured.
“Oh,” Phoenix grimaces, nose scrunching in disgust, “Gross, guys.”
“In my bathroom?” Penny looks aghast, “You better not have clogged the shower drain.”
“Easy,” Maverick throws a hand out over her own, “We’ve done it in there one too many times to judge.”
“Gross!” Payback rears away from the older pilot sitting next to him, “Everybody needs to stop getting laid, but if you do, don’t tell me about it!”
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chaoticbardlady99 · 4 months
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I Triple Dog Dare You (Astarion x F!Reader) (Part 2 to Pinkie Promise)
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CW: Angst, mentions of trauma, mentions of sexual trauma, mentions of bullying, mentions of parental death, mentions of domestic violence, mentions of voyeurism
Both titles have been inspired by the song ‘School Nights’ by Chappell Roan
Dedicated to @amica-aenigmata-naboo - thank you for demanding a part two 😂
Part 1: Pinkie Promise?
✨this has been proof read once and I have been awake and working since 3 am. It is not 10:04 pm. Please help✨
You finish your letter by folding it into thirds and then writing ‘Star’ on the back. You take a deep breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth- reminding yourself that you already know he likes you back, you are just taking that last extra little step. You also can’t attempt to write this letter again- this is your 8th draft, the others turning into flames in your hands very quickly.
You want to ask Astarion to be in a serious relationship with you. You have only been seeing each other (as far as you know) and you’ve spent almost everyday sleeping with him in his tent since you had ventured into the Underdark. Most of the time- you don’t even have sex. You stay up talking together and sharing soft kisses- no clothes, just intimacy. You adore those moments immensely.
Life around camp has also been good- everyone is finally beginning to get along. Shadowheart and Lae’zel even silently respect each other now. It feels like one big happy family and you are grateful for them when this whole journey feels far too big and scary.
Recently, you and your crew have been playing an ongoing game of “Triple Dog Dare”. The only rule is you can’t dare someone in the middle of a battle or a serious mission. Otherwise- it’s all fair game and if you decline to do it, you have to take the darers’ guard duty or help them with a chore. The chores were limited to one task and it can’t be taking down a whole tent + equipment- the one time Astarion had to take down Gale’s tent had been disastrous. The dare had been to allow Gale to take you on a date- Astarion shot back with a “I triple dog dare you to swallow my fucking knife wizard.” All parties (minus Astarion) agreed that this dare was not to be followed through on.
The game has had… less than favorable results. Watching Wyll and Karlach streak across the camp while you were piss drunk was awful. Oh and the time Gale almost died because Wyll dared him to spy on the two of you for 20 minutes. You hadn’t heard his thoughts, but Astarion had. His head had shot up from between your legs with a furious look in his eyes. Astarion had covered your naked frame up quickly with his shirt (his trousers still on) and chased after Gale until he pushed the man into the freezing Underdark water.
The group then had to make a few more rules people didn’t realize they had to make. In Gale’s defense- Wyll didn’t specify and Wyll is a real snob about which chore he gives the person. It’s also the worst chore and usually includes de-stinking his boots. You are almost positive Wyll does this on purpose as repayment for all the headaches this groups’ shenanigans has given him-oh and the horns.
Karlach triple dog dared you today to finally confess your feelings to Astarion. You had gawked at her and then dared her to do the same with Dammon. You shook on it and it was done.
Finding out that Astarion’s life is in far more danger than any of them had realized shook you to your core. You are tired of wasting time being afraid to ask him what you already know (or at least hope you know). You are silently grateful that Karlach has given you the push you needed (you doubt she would have actually made you do anything- she wouldn’t put you on blast like that).
It just never felt like the right time in the past. Having your life be in constant danger is kind of a romance killer and you aren’t sure how the hell you are supposed to do this.
Do you court him? Do you ask him to court you?
You ultimately settled on just flat out telling him your feelings- politics be damned. It’s not like you were welcome in High Society anyway.
Now you are in the safety of Last Light Inn and it feels like the right time to bring this up. You worry that waiting any longer will result in him looking for someone more serious or maybe you would always just be a person he slept with during the journey to his freedom.
You hope you are more than that and you are almost positive you are. The way he looks at you, kisses you, and talks to you is so genuine- his eyes are always so soft and so are his lips. He protects you and you protect him. You adore him and you think he adores you too.
So naturally, walking up behind him and Shadowheart talking isn’t a nerve wracking endeavor to you. This is all going to go off without a hitch!
Or so you thought.
Your ears twitch and you barely hear what they say to each other, but you do. Gods you wish you hadn’t.
“You are insufferable, Cleric.” Astarion groans, “I already told you my answer.”
“Oh please- you follow them around like a lovesick puppy. You can’t honestly tell me you have absolutely no feelings for them.”
Shadowheart takes a long sip of her pint and raises an eyebrow at him. You remain in the shadow- your heart thumping out of your chest. Maybe he’ll say a lot of wonderful things about you? Maybe your hopes will be-
“Nope, not a single feeling outside of my carnal desires,” he says nonchalantly, “that’s all it’s been and they know that.”
Oh.
You feel all the air leave your lungs as you crumple your letter and shove it in your pocket. You don’t know why you insist on listening further.
“Then I triple dog dare you to go talk to someone and take them to bed. You will have no problem bedding that Harper who keeps giving you ‘fuck me’ eyes- I’m sure.”
Oh please no.
“You offend me- that’s hardly a challenge,” he says while standing up, sauntering over to the Harper that is eyeing him.
You promptly turn around and hurry out of the building. You can’t breathe. You should have known better.
You had always been Tav the Guillable, the Plain, the Insufferable, etc, etc. You had been thrown at your aunt and uncle when your parents passed. Your aunt and uncle lived in a nice Human only city and you are a ‘filthy half-breed.’
One of the boys in your Archery class found out you had a crush on him so he asked you to meet him by the river. You showed up with wild flowers for him- something your mother told you Wood Elf’s do to show affection. He showed up with your entire class- all of them laughing at you for being stupid enough to believe he liked you and then his future partner beat the shit out of you before throwing you into the rushing water. You wished you hadn’t survived, but a nice family who was tolerant towards Half breeds saved you. Your Aunt and Uncle were pissed. Admittedly, so were you.
They treated you terribly- constantly trying to marry you off to old men who you would turn away with your boorish behavior.
You really thought you had it right this time. Everything felt so natural and right- like you had been made for each other. What did you not pick up on? What did you miss this whole time? How could you have been so blind?
You pick up your bedroll on the way out- you were all going to sleep on the floor of the inn with the rest of the Harpers and Refugees, but you couldn’t pretend you wanted to be near Astarion like he does with you. You aren’t ready to confront him- you aren’t ready for the pretty illusion to be completely shattered and swept under the rug yet. You were just getting used to being someone he loved and now the whole world is crumbling underneath you.
It was barely anything- obviously- so why does it hurt this much?
You find yourself in front of Damon’s metal shop and he’s talking to Karlach. You clear your throat and they both look at you. Karlach suddenly looks concerned when she sees the look on your face.
“Could I sleep above your shop tonight?” You say with a strained voice, “behind the hay? I just… need to be alone.”
“Sure thing- it’s all yours.”
You smile gratefully at him and begin to climb up the ladder.
“Do you want me to tell Fangs, Soldier?”
You can hear the question in her voice. She is your best friend after all.
“No- please don’t,” you smile at her sadly, “I would prefer he doesn’t know where I am.”
Karlach nods in understanding, giving you a sad smile, and you go behind the hay and lay out your bedroll. It smells like him and you don’t know if that’s helping or hurting at this point, but you are mostly too tired to care.
Your heart hurts as you try to find sleep. You throw the crumpled note across the little loft and silently begin to cry.
At least you knew what it felt to give and receive love- even if it was false and unrequited the entire time.
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Astarion is barely present for the conversation with the Harper male who is trying to impress him into bed. Astarion is only thinking of you and how much he wants to get this over with so you can find a more secluded spot together. Every morning to every night feels like far too long to wait to have a tender moment with you.
Astarion imagines leaving lingering kisses along your collar bones and your cheeks. He thinks about how he desperately needs to rebraid your hair. It’s been frizzy and unruly from all the fog- the baby hairs sticking out all over the place. He also needs to patch up your armor again- your Meilikki Cleric Armor ripped apart from the events of yesterday.
Mostly though, he wants to spend the off day tomorrow with just you. Astarion wants to find somewhere to hide or even just rent a room so that you can just be in each other’s presence un interrupted by the world. Astarion’s heart glows at the thought of the sexless intimacy you share. He’s so happy it’s not a priority to you- it’s allowed him to do things at his own pace and as he wants to which is very freeing to him.
Astarion had finally admitted to himself that his plan had well and truly failed- he has fallen for you very hard.
He doesn’t know what possessed him to lie to Shadowheart. He mostly just didn’t want to be pressured to leap forward. Astarion isn’t sure if you want to be something real with him and he also doesn’t know if you are hell bent on being a proper noble woman who marries a proper noble man. It would break his heart if you rejected him and Astarion has no desire to feel that way. For now, Astarion will bask in his peaceful ignorance.
The Harper man eventually scowls at Astarion and tells him to fuck off if he isn’t interested. Astarion goes back to Shadowheart with an annoyed look on his face.
“Fine- you win, Cleric,” Astarion scowls, “I have feelings for them. I couldn’t even give that man a moment of my attention because I couldn’t stop thinking about them so if you will excuse me-“
Shadowheart squeals in delight and Astarion rolls his eyes. Astarion walks around the entire inn and property- you are nowhere to be found. Astarion is beginning to become more and more worried. Astarion is pacing out front when Karlach and Dammon come up to the Inn- ready to hit the sack.
“Karlach,” Astarion says, a bit more panicked than he means to, “where is Tav? I’ve been looking for them everywhere and I can’t find them!”
Karlach looks suddenly uncomfortable and like she definitely knows where you are.
“Karlach if you know where Tav is-“
“I do!” She says exasperated, “but they specifically asked that you don’t know and I don’t blame them! You gonna go fuck them and pretend to have feelings for them again for the billionth time?”
Astarion is stock still and horribly confused. What in the hells is she talking about? Karlach shoves a piece of crumpled paper into his hands and shakes her head at him.
“You know- if you are going to fuck with someone’s feelings,” Karlach tries to keep her patience, “maybe don’t pick the nicest person in the room. Honestly Fangs- fuck you. I thought you were better than that.”
Astarion is at a loss for words- which is very rare for him. He slowly unfolds the note- hoping it might put some of the pieces together.
Star,
I have really come to enjoy your company and our time together.
I am quite smitten with you and I’m too nervous to say this out loud, but I would like to be able to call you my partner (in a romantic sense)- if you return my feelings, that is.
If not, no worries. All I want is for you to be happy.
-Tav
The pieces click together like a haunting tune.
You had heard everything that was said between him and Shadowheart. Obviously you didn’t stick around for the important part, but Gods you must be heartbroken.
Astarion has to assume you were hiding somewhere in Damon’s shop if Karlach is the one who knows where you are. He had been avoiding the shop initially so that Karlach could have her privacy with Dammon. Now it’s fair game.
Astarion quickly walks towards the shop and as soon as he enters- his ears pick up your quiet sobbing. Your thoughts are loud and unguarded- his words playing in your head over and over again. You are wondering why you aren’t good enough. Astarion finally sees what you have refused to show him- your parents are long gone, despite the fact that you talk about them as if they are waiting for you to come home. Your Aunt, Uncle, cousins, and an entire society have rejected you, humiliated you, and belittled you. This just happens to be the salt in the wound. You keep looping through the thought of how stupid you are to have missed this of all damn things. How could you even begin to think he would actually want you? Plain, boring, ugly, half-breed Tav.
Oh my Darling, what have I done?
Shadowheart had been teasing him relentlessly ever since you had all arrived back to the safety of Last Light Inn. You had led them all to support Astarion in finding out more about the scars carved into his back. It had been incredibly dangerous and Shadowheart had had to heal him more than usual- he kept putting himself between you and every bomb, warrior, etc. He wanted her to stop- he likes the privacy of his little world with you.
Now he’s demolished that world and your heart in less than an hour. Astarion was actually nervous earlier- realizing how deep his feelings for you are and how much he wants something real with you. He just isn’t close enough with Shadowheart to share those feelings out loud willingly. Astarion is thrilled that you feel the same way, but now he isn’t sure he can convince you that his feelings are genuine and not a giant lie.
Astarion slowly makes his way up the ladder and he hears your sobbing stop- one single sniffle occurring before silence.
“Darling?” he asks quietly.
The air is tense and Astarion feels more nervous than a school boy with a crush. You hiccup.
“Astarion.”
Your voice is strained and cracks- he can hear the effort you put into trying to make your voice sound steady and normal.
You are definitely not happy with him. You usually address him as Star when he first arrives in your orbit.
Astarion takes it as a good sign that you are at least willing to speak with him.
“It’s come to my attention that you may have overheard a conversation without context and without staying until the end,” Astarion says slowly, “I was hoping you might let me explain myself.”
You sit up gingerly, your head bent, and look up at him with puffy, bloodshot eyes. Your bottom lip is swollen- you often worry it between your teeth when you are upset. He doesn’t like when you are upset, but he does love how incredibly delicious it makes your lips look. Your skin is under a veil of tears and your cheeks are stained pink from you rubbing away the sadness from your face. It’s unfair how beautiful a crier you are.
Astarion decides to go against his better judgement and he crawls towards you. You look at him with a guarded expression, but you don’t fight him as he pulls you into his lap- his fingers moving the hair out of your face and wiping the remaining tears from your cheeks.
“Shadowheart was teasing me for being… overly concerned with your safety today,” Astarion begins, “I just didn’t want to- her and I aren’t close enough for me to-“
Astarion huffs in frustration and looks down at the floor momentarily before making direct eye contact with you. He decides to use the tadpole- maybe showing will make more sense than explaining.
Astarion shows you his original intentions of manipulating you- his musings over your beauty, but your aggravating naivety and the annoyance at your persistent kindness. He feels you flinch a little, but your body begins to relax against his as you watch his feelings change. Astarion lets you see all of his jealousy, confusion, fear, and adoration for you. He even lets you see his turmoil during sex. Astarion enjoys himself with you- more than he’s ever enjoyed himself with anyone, but the self-loathing and disgust pose a challenge during intimate moments.
Lastly, Astarion shows you how scared he is to lose you. He lets the feeling consume him and he feels like he’s a rope ready to snap at any moment. His mind wanders to how much he doesn’t ever want to have to miss you- the beautiful moments you have shared together and how much joy you have brought to his life. You make him want to be a better person- well at least in your presence. Astarion would do just about anything for you.
You press your forehead to his and release a relieved sigh. Astarion pulls you in for a deep, tender kiss. The kiss is needy, but not in a sexual way. Astarion needs you to know that he really does adore you- his affections are absolutely not fake.
He finally has to pull back to let you breathe and you wrap your arms around his neck.
“You make me so so happy, Darling,” Astarion whispers tearfully, “I really don’t want to lose you.”
“Star, I adore you for all the sentimental reasons,” your eyes sparkle as you look at him, “I’m not going anywhere.”
Astarion tries not to show how relieved he is, but the way his shoulders slump gives him away.
“We don’t have to have sex, you know,” you say quietly, “I can wait until you are ready. I want you to be happy and feel loved more than anything.”
Astarion is surprised by the choked sob that escapes his lips- pulling you in closer.
“That sounds like a challenge.”
“Yeah well,” you pull back and smile at him, “I triple dog dare you to prioritize your wants and needs first!”
Astarion rolls his eyes at you and tries to hide the grateful tears threatening to spill from his eyes. You are his most favorite person across all the planes. He is so grateful for you, your patience, and how much you try to understand him so that you can support his healing from centuries of abuse.
“Cheeky pup.”
You grin widely, “the cheekiest.”
“Hmmm well,” Astarion slyly smirks, “if we are going to play this childish game…”
You pout, jutting your lower lip out. Astarion places a chaste kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear.
“I triple dog dare you to be something real with me.”
Astarion’s nerves are going haywire- praying to every God he can think of that you still want to be serious with him.
Your smile could light up the entirety of the Shadow Cursed Lands. You give him a short sweet kiss on the cheek and A kunik*.
“Dare accepted.”
*A kunik means nose kiss in Inuit
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jockfootstories · 3 months
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Joe felt his buddies boots rest on both of his shoulders as he watched his other two friends game. His friend DJ, sitting behind him, was a bit on the cocky side, and would off and on foot tease him. Joe went along with it as he had a foot fetish but kept it hidden and was confused if DJ had picked up on it as this was his normal disposition. He had seen DJ mess with his other friends with his feet but Joe tried to be more open to the teasing without trying to give himself away. He saw one cowboy boot tilt inward, it now pulling back some so the top pressed against his nose and mouth. “Kiss my boot,” DJ said from behind and started tilting his other boot inward. Joe kind’ve dodged the country boy’s boots some and quietly said,”DJ…. I can smell your feet inside your boots.” The boots in front of him pulled toward him more diligently and Joe fell backwards onto the floor. He instantly tried to sit up but DJ held him down with both feet pinned on his shoulders. Joe saw his friend lean over, smirking down at him, and said,”What’s that Joey? You wanna see how my feet smell?”  I bolt of fear shot through him as Joe instantly said,”No, that’s not what I said.” He squirmed some more but DJ applied more pressure, now wiggling his foot out of one boot, exposing his bare foot. He watched his friend up end his boot and lower the opening over his nose. Joe took a huge inhale, the warm foot/sweat smell filing his lungs as he moved his face back and forth, acting like he was trying to escape. He heard his other friend Hunter say,”Damn DJ, your feet stink. What are you doing?” Joe realizing that his other friend was watching, he amped up his attempt to sit up, and pushed the boot away from his face.  DJ responded half laughing,” Joe wants to smell my feet so I’m seeing how long he can last.”   “I didn’t say that. I said…,” Joe quickly responded, trying to sit up, but was cut off. DJ thrusted him saying,“Shut up and smell,” DJ said, smooshing the bottom of his bare foot onto Joe’s face. “Want your other boot off?,” Hunter asked. Without response Hunter came over, replaced his foot on Joe’s arm, and tugged the boot off of his friend’s foot. He placed the boot on Joe’s chest as Joe croaked out ‘No’ seeing both bare feet descend quickly upon his face. His vision went to darkness as the warm, padded soles cushioned against on him. The feet kept him down, now rubbing against his face, as he heard DJ say, ”Snifff em!”  Hunter snickered, lifting one foot up, nudging Joe’s chest, and added,“Enjoy DJ’s foot smell down there Joe?”  Their other friend Nathan called back to Hunter and Hunter went back to the game. Joe tried to lift himself up a few more times, trying to covertly adjust his crotch , as he struggled. DJ continued working his face under his feet, now scrunching his toes over his nostrils to make him breathe under them. Joe grunted out some but took in a deep inhale, his friend’s foot odor now making him extremely weak. “Oh yah. Like the smell of my boots and feet huh?,”  After 15 or so minutes, DJ removed his soles, and Joe saw Hunter standing over him grinning. He watched Hunter lift his socked foot up and saw it press down onto his face. Joe muffled out a sound but let Hunter rub his foot and toes against his nose as he sniffed in. “Since your face already smell’s like DJ’s feet, you might as well smell mine too.” Both of them verbally teased him for a few minutes, commenting he should be the designated foot rest between games. DJ defiantly getting behind that idea with Joe wondering if he knew about his foot fetish.
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