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#the rings were in Dick's pocket
captain-hawks · 8 months
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double shift
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— kento nanami x f!reader
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summary: Kento Nanami hates overtime, but who is he to say no when his boss asks him to go check on his wife while he's out of town?
word count: 4.2k
content: NSFW, 18+, smut, infidelity, heavy lactation kink, fingering, unprotected p in v, creampie, multiple orgasms, degradation, dirty talk, squirting, breeding kink, restraints, counter sex, wet & messy
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Kento’s grip on the steering wheel tightens as he stares at his phone nestled in the cupholder, limbs taut with aggravation as the bored voice of his boss continues on, “She hasn’t been answering my calls all day, and I’m not flying back for another week yet. I know you’re probably about to leave the office, but I’m going to need you to stop at my house and check on her first, Nanami.”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, the words ‘OVERTIME’ flashing red behind his eyes and drawing forth a fresh surge of anger that has him contemplating the consequences of smashing his phone on the pavement outside and finding a new job entirely.
Today has been shit.
Capital S, Shit.
His asshole boss has been out of town for nearly a week already, every client is somehow ten times more unbearable than usual, the incompetence across the office has become a goddamn disease, and he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that that piece of shit is doing anything  but keeping his dick in his pants while his wife and their new baby are left home alone.
His very attractive, very lovely wife who probably has no idea what a waste of oxygen her husband is. 
You’re too fucking good for him.
And you’re also too good for Kento, who’s spent more nights than he’d care to admit furiously fisting his cock to the memory of whatever tantalizing outfit you’d turned up at the office wearing that day.
And seeing you pregnant?
While the knowledge that you were now entirely stuck with that undeserving asshole sent his blood boiling, Kento could hardly complain about the sight of you during those months, his shaft straining painfully in his slacks every time he laid eyes upon your gloriously swollen, heavy breasts. 
And the cum he splattered all over the mirror and sink after inevitably rushing out of his office when you finally left? Well, that was between him and the four walls of the men’s bathroom. 
So after the awful day he’s already had, Kento’s not sure he can imagine a worse type of overtime than waltzing into your house and playing the part of a dutiful employee checking in on his boss’s wife, acting like he doesn’t want to fuck you so bad it’s driving him up a goddamn wall.
But he’ll fucking do it.
Of course he will. 
“Sure,” he replies tersely, before hanging up and peeling out of the parking lot.
᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
She’s finally asleep.
Sighing weakly in relief, you close the door to your daughter’s bedroom and shuffle down the hallway. You make it all the way to the kitchen before you’re forced to lean heavily against the countertop, gritting your teeth as another wave of discomfort radiates from your sore, swollen breasts. 
“Hello?” a familiar, male voice tentatively calls out in a hushed tone.
You whip around, still clutching the counter for support, eyes widening at the side of Kento Nanami standing in the doorway to your kitchen. 
“Hi?” you respond, your heart doing a somersault as you drink in the sight of his tall, muscled form. 
He twirls a key around his finger twice before catching it in the palm of his hand and stuffing it in his pocket. “I apologize for barging in, but your spare key hiding spot is shit, and I didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake the baby.”
“It’s okay, Nanami,” you assure him, the erratic thrumming in your chest far from a feeling of fear.
For whatever reason, he appears to be attempting to avert his eyes after glancing over at you quickly, roughly running a hand through his hair. “Your husband asked me to check on you. He said he hasn’t heard from you all day,” he explains carefully. 
“Well, I figured it would be rude to interrupt the wild orgies he pays for with the company credit card,” you deadpan.
Nanami’s jaw ticks, “He—”
“I’m well aware of what he does.”
“Then why—”
“Because I realized too late, and I’m too tired to do anything about it right now,” you sigh, wincing at the continuous ache of your breasts.
And it’s then that you realize why Nanami’s been looking anywhere but at you directly.
You’re wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt and knee-high socks, which in and of itself isn’t overtly reprehensible, given that you’re in your own house, you have a four-month-old child, and you can’t remember the last time you got a full night’s rest. The issue is that your breasts are so sore and tender right now, you haven’t been able to even look at a bra in days. 
Which, once again, wouldn’t be an issue alone in the privacy of your home…when one of your husband’s employees isn’t desperately trying not to acknowledge the fact that two large wet spots have soaked through your shirt. 
“I should…” you trail off awkwardly, glancing around the room in hopes that you left one of your flannel over shirts lying within reach. 
“It’s fine,” Nanami blurts out, scratching the back of his head and studiously feigning interest in the collection of party invites and shopping lists stuck to the side of your fridge. 
᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
It’s not fine. 
It’s anything but fine. 
It’s a complete fucking disaster. 
Kento hasn’t seen you since you gave birth. And despite how exhausted he knows you are—he can see it in the bags under your eyes and the limpness of your posture— your soft pregnancy glow has transformed into a postpartum radiance that has his breath catching in his throat each time his eyes sweep over you. 
You’re fucking stunning. 
And somehow, he knows your husband hasn’t noticed this. Hasn’t told you how incredible you are, how fantastic motherhood looks on you. It sends a fresh wave of anger coursing through him, the mere thought that he could bear to let himself stray from you—especially now, at such a vulnerable time. 
But any hopes Kento had of trying not to commit this sight of you to memory were swiftly dashed the moment he noticed the wet spots on your shirt. 
Even now, when he’s looking at a box of cereal on the counter as if it’s the most interesting thing in the entire world, every layer of his inner psyche is rapidly overheating at the thought of your heavy, swollen breasts. The milk leaking from them, soaking through your clothes and inevitably trailing down your stomach. 
He needs to fucking leave. Now. 
“I should go—“
“—do you want some tea?”
You both speak at the same time, and when Kento turns to face you again, you’ve slipped a blue flannel shirt on, buttoning it up partway. As if his traitorous cock will somehow forget what he now knows is obscured underneath the added layer of material. But despite the growing discomfort swelling and throbbing against the zipper of his pants, he concedes, his need to quell the apparent loneliness in your eyes with a moment of company winning out over his lust-addled desire to disappear to the nearest private place to jerk off. 
He’s thankful to sit after you pour him a cup, hiding any and all evidence of what a terrible man he is beneath the table, one leg idly bouncing as he wills his hard on to go down. It’s a big ask, though, given that you’re probably not even aware of what you’re doing to him when you lean your body over the kitchen island with your mug clutched between your fingers as you idly chat with him, your oversized shirt just barely masking the flash of pink panties it reveals beneath each time your shoulders bounce as you laugh. 
He’s two seconds from excusing himself to put his fucking dick in the freezer. 
His chair scrapes against the tile floor as he pushes it back, having decided he’s at his limit, but he pauses when a pained sound escapes your lips. 
“Are you alright?” he asks, hurrying over to where you’re now pressing your forehead against the island countertop, whimpering softly. His hand hovers for a moment before he opts to gently touch your shoulder, just to let you know he’s there. 
Your fingers scrape over the marble as you breathe out in a quiet voice, “No.”
As if on instinct, Kento begins to rub small, comforting circles into your upper back, his tentative touches growing more confident when he feels your tense body behind to relax slightly. 
“What’s wrong? What can I do?”
You whine again, standing up straighter but keeping your back to him as you clutch at your chest. “They…they hurt so bad.”
Kento’s halfway certain his soul has left his body as he watches, stunned, while you slide your hands up under your shirt and squeeze at your breasts, exhaling a chorus of breathy little sounds like the fucked up cherry on top. 
“Do you need to…” he trails off, and though you can’t see from where he’s standing behind you, he vaguely gestures in the general direction where he can only surmise the baby’s room is. 
“It’s…they’re clogged,” you whisper, elbows lifting up and revealing the small of your back as you begin to knead your tits desperately. “They’ve been so sore and swollen for days.”
Kento bites his lower lip, mentally steadying himself for a moment before he asks, “Tell me how I can help.”
“Can you grab a clean washcloth out of the drawer next to the sink and soak it in hot water?”
He swiftly complies with your request, returning moments later after wringing out the small towel and waiting for it to cool down slightly. You’re still using the counter to steady yourself, so he approaches you from behind and goes to hand you the washcloth, only to find his hand immediately pinned between your own and one of your breasts. 
You let out a whimpering cry of relief, and it takes everything in him not to let out the noise rumbling in his own throat as you squeeze his hand over your tit. 
“I’m sorry,” you whimper. “It just feels so…”
“It’s okay,” Kento murmurs. “Relax.”
Internally, every single warning bell inside of his head is blaring indignantly over the fact that he’s got his hand under his boss’s wife’s shirt, and he’s massaging her lactating breasts with a hot towel while she whimpers and presses into his touch. 
But your fingers are laced with his, and you’re not telling him to stop. 
In fact, you’re begging him to keep going, keeping a hold of his left hand when he switches the towel to his right, urging him to massage both of your tits at the same time. And who is he to tell you no?
Kento’s fairly certain his balls are going to be aching for days when he feels the warm liquid that begins to coat his fingers.
Fucking fuck. 
What the fuck is he doing?
Then your back arches as you outright moan when he brazenly toys with both of your nipples at the same time, milk squirting out, your ass pressing directly into his throbbing erection. 
And fuck it, fuck dignity, because Kento’s on the verge of coming in his pants. 
But then you spin around to face him, your back pressed into the island as you gaze at him shyly and say, “I…I think I need more.”
Your eyes flick from his mouth back down to your breasts, and he cups the side of your face as he asks, “Are you sure?”
You nod, slipping your shirt off entirely and tossing it aside, and Kento’s mouth goes dry as he stares at the trails of milk leaking from your tits, wondering how he’d ever thought to call today ‘Shitty’. 
He motions toward the counter, his large hands grasping your waist to help you get seated up on top of it, fingertips hesitant to pull away from your lacy panties when he spies the wet spot over your cunt. 
Kento has never thought of himself as a greedy man. Far from it, actually. 
But the moment his mouth latches onto one of your hot, swollen breasts, pulling a shameless moan from your pretty lips as your thighs wrap around him, the sweet taste of your milk hitting his tongue, he feels fucking insatiable. 
His mind is a buzz of static as he drinks from your tits, all the blood in his body rushing to his cock, precum soaking through his boxers and slacks. Your fingers tangle in his hair, the heel of your foot pressing into his back and pulling him closer, and he groans, one hand grasping your upper thigh as he teases your nipples between his teeth and squeezes a spray of liquid onto his gluttonous tongue. 
“Feels so good, Nanami,” you whine, fingertips sliding down the front of his dress shirt, catching on each button.  
“Kento,” he exhales, licking up the milk dripping down your chest. 
“Kento,” you moan, tugging hard on the tousled blond strands that have fallen onto his forehead. 
And at the sound of your breathy, wrecked tone moaning out his name for the first time, every nerve ending in Kento’s body goes up in flames. 
᠃ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘ ᠂ ⚘ ᠃
Nothing has ever felt this good. 
Nothing. 
Kento Nanami’s sinful mouth is latched onto your heavy, engorged tits, greedily drinking every spurt of breast milk that comes leaking out of you, the flow growing steadier with each lap and squeeze. 
He has no fucking clue that most of your impromptu visits to the office are actually to see him. To talk to him, if only for a few moments. Kento Nanami, who has always treated you with unfailing kindness under his sometimes brash exterior. Who extends more patience toward you than all of his coworkers combined. 
He has no idea how trapped you feel in your marriage, how often you’ve longed for the bland touch of your husband in bed to be his. 
He doesn’t know how many times you’ve brought yourself over the edge with your fingers with his face lingering in your mind, the rough, teasing sound of words you’ve imagined in his voice playing out in your head like the most sinful soundtrack you’ve ever heard. 
And now he’s grunting and moaning as he makes a mess of both of you, his lips and chin gleaming with the same wet, sticky milk that’s all over your chest and thighs and his hands and pooling on the countertop beneath you. 
It’s filthy.
It’s so fucking filthy. 
And maybe it’s wrong. 
But you’re so desperate for him. For this. You need more. You need it so badly, you can hardly breathe. Searing desire is coiled so tightly in your abdomen, you’re trembling with restraint, aching with the desire to beg him to fuck you. You know he wants it, too, though. It’s hard to miss the thick, mouth-watering outline of his cock straining against his pants, like a beacon waiting to fulfill your darkest desires. 
It’s a line you know he won’t cross unless you ask for it. 
“Kento,” you murmur again, pulling his face up to meet yours. 
“Mmm?” he asks, pupils blown wide with lust, and you can tell he’s slightly dazed, drunk off of the taste of the milk leaking from your tits. 
You lean closer, letting your lips hover over his, Kento’s breath mingling with your own as you whisper, “Please touch me.”
He gently pushes your thighs further apart, carefully running a finger over the front of your panties. His voice is a rough, gravelly sound as he asks, “Here?”
A thrill shoots up your spine at the feather-light touch. “Yes.”
“More?” he questions, his lips brushing against your mouth as he hooks a finger in your underwear and pulls them aside. 
“More,” you keen, bucking into him as his knuckles graze your clit. 
He slides a finger through your folds, visibility shuddering as he comments, “You’re so fucking wet.”
“For you,” you pant, trying to resist the urge to shamelessly start riding his hand. 
Kento’s mouth engulfs yours in a rough, hungry kiss at the same moment he slides a thick digit into your cunt, and he swallows down the whimpering cry of pleasure that spills out of you. His lips are relentless as they slot against yours, and you arch into him, every part of your body drawn to his blazing touch on your skin. 
You can taste the remnants of your breastmilk on Kento’s lips, but you don’t care as you let him slip his tongue into your mouth. He kisses you so deeply it makes your toes curl, one hand cradling the back of your head while he stuffs a second finger into your hole. 
And just when you thought you couldn’t get any more sensitive under his touch, he dips his head back down to continue ravishing your forgotten breasts, pumping his soaked fingers in and out of your pussy all the while. 
“Kento,” you whimper, chest heaving as you press your heels into the cabinets below, every muscle in your body going taut under the onslaught of arousal coursing through you. 
“Can you come for me?” he asks, his gravelly, barely restrained tone searing itself into your mind. 
It’s the combination of his thumb massaging circles into your sensitive bundle of nerves and the sight of milk dripping down his chin as he messily drinks from you that sends you tumbling over the edge, the rubber band inside of you snapping like a whip as your orgasm washes over you. There’s an unfamiliar feeling that accompanies it, clear liquid squirting from your cunt and soaking the front of Kento’s dress shirt. 
Kento’s eyes darken a fraction as he grasps your chin, thumb pressing into your bottom lip. “Good girl,” he murmurs, kissing you. “Good fucking girl.”
Hand reaching between your bodies, you grasp his cock through his slacks, marveling at how maddeningly thick he feels. 
“I want you to fuck me now, Kento,” you tell him in no uncertain terms, rubbing your palm up and down his erection for good measure. “Fuck me like I’m a bad girl.”
Kento growls, hand palming the side of your neck, thumb caressing your collarbones, “You have no fucking clue what you do to me.”
“Show me.”
You’ve hardly had a chance to unbutton his pants before he’s slipping your panties down, stuffing them into his pocket. His hands come up to undo his tie, but rather than tossing the silky material aside, he asks, “Do you trust me?”
You nod in response, and he steps around the island, pulling your hands behind your back and tying your wrists together snugly with the yellow and black material. Anticipation zings through your chest, a fresh wave of arousal dripping from your sensitive cunt. 
“Is that too tight?”
You shake your head. “It’s perfect.”
He wastes no time in shedding the rest of his clothes, and you find yourself pressing hard against the restraints once you see his cock in all its glory, thick and flushed and so fucking big that you whimper.  
You spread your legs wide for him again as he steps between them, rubbing the leaking head of his cock against your damp slit. He notches it at your entrance, tilting your chin to his mouth and dragging your bottom lip between his teeth before he murmurs, “You’re perfect.”
Kento’s hands grasp your hips as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance, slowly easing into you. He massages your breasts, his hot mouth nipping and lapping a trail from your shoulder to the sensitive spot behind your earlobe while he pushes deeper into your cunt. When he eventually bottoms out, you’re both breathing hard, and his tie is fighting for its life to keep your wrists bound behind you. 
“Are you okay?” 
You let out a huff of air, your entire body poised to implode with the weight of the lust and pleasure raging inside of you. “Fuck me like you mean it, Kento.”
Whatever thinly veiled restraint was left in him crumbles to dust at your request, and Kento tugs you closer to the edge of the counter as he begins to pound into your cunt at a ruthless pace, splitting you open right in the middle of your kitchen. The cool marble is slick and sticky beneath you, covered in a myriad of filthy fluids that continue to leak out of you. 
“So beautiful,” he grunts, punctuating each word with a rough snap of his hips. 
“I feel like a whore,” you admit, biting your lower lip, tits bouncing heavily with his punishing thrusts. 
A short, dark laugh escapes Kento’s lips, his brows raising. He leans in, stuffing his cock deep into your cunt as he presses his mouth to yours and murmurs, “Well you’re my pretty, filthy whore.”
If your husband talked to you like this, you’d slap him. But from Kento…the liquid heat that churns in your belly is anything but anger. 
“Am I?” you ask, trying to sound as innocent as you can when he’s balls deep inside of you. 
“Yeah,” he rasps, not missing a beat as he catches on to what you want to hear. He squeezes your tits, milk squirting everywhere. “My dirty slut. You’re such a good girl, making a such a fucking mess. Squirting all over me while your tits leak everywhere.”
You gasp as he leans down, burying his face in your tits, latching on to one of your nipples and drinking deeply from you again. The combined feeling of him sucking on your breasts and the push and drag of his shaft inside of you leaves you cock drunk, begging and babbling senselessly as tears of pleasure prick at the corners of your eyes.
“Wanna put another baby in you, keep these nice and round and full for me,” he grunts, letting milk spray from your tits and leak down your bodies, dripping down his cock and coating his balls. 
The thought leaves you dizzy and breathless, keening as you imagine Kento filling you over and over with his seed. Waking up each morning to his cock already stuffed inside of you, fucking the previous night’s cum right back into your needy cunt. Tying you up to your bed posts with that goddamn tie. The satisfaction on his face when your breasts grow heavy and your belly grows round again for him, awakening something so feral inside of him he’s incapable of keeping his mouth off of your tits and his cock from the heat between your thighs whenever you’re alone. 
Rational thinking is a thing of the past as you choke out, nearly sobbing with pleasure, cunt squelching wetly as he pounds into you, “Fill me, Kento. Please.”
Kento curses, leaning in to caress the side of your face as he mutters, “My filthy girl.”
“Yours,” you pant. “I’m yours.”
He captures your mouth in a deep, heated kiss, fingers grasping your hips for purchase as he plunges into your cunt, drawing shuddering, unabashed moans out of you. “Come all over my cock then,” he instructs, his rough tone dragging down your spine, fingers toying with your clit while your pussy clenches down on every inch of him. 
And when he leans down, holding eye contact with you as he licks up a forgotten trail of milk rolling down one of your tits, there’s nothing that can stop the searing explosion of pleasure that ignites inside of you, your entire body trembling with the relentless, burning hot flood of the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. 
He follows moments after you, driving his length in to the hilt as he groans, fingers gripping you tightly, his thick cock pulsing heavily inside of you as he fills your cunt deeply with ropes of cum. As fucked out as you feel, you can’t help but whine at the ceaseless arousal that stirs within your gut as your pussy quivers around the stretch of his cock, milking every drop of Kento’s seed from him. 
Kento feels you subtly rocking your hips back into him, and his answering chuckle is like warm honey as he reaches between you. He plays with your overstimulated clit, pressing gentle kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck as his seed begins to leak out of you. You moan softly, head falling against his shoulder, pleasure mounting inside of you once more. Leveraging what remains of his softening cock, he slowly fucks his cum back inside of you, his rough whispers of praise a warm caress against the shell of your ear as your entire body dissolves into one last blissful climax that leaves you completely boneless. 
You have all of two minutes to bask in the afterglow, Kento’s hands and lips tenderly mapping out your body, when the sound of your phone ringing on the countertop beside you startles you both. Your gaze meets his as you both see the unwelcome name that flashes on the screen, and he promptly flips your phone over and scoops you into his arms as he makes his way toward the living room.
“If I’m working overtime, I’m making this a double shift.”
— likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated!
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estrellami-1 · 10 months
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If I Should Stay
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
He’s staring at him.
Steve Harrington is staring at Eddie Munson.
The thing is, people don’t just stare at Eddie. Not for any reason that means anything good for Eddie. So when, completely unprompted, the fucking King of Hawkins High walks up to Eddie and says, “I need to talk to you,” Eddie thinks he’s entirely justified in the squeak he lets out.
“You? Talk? To me?” Wow. Great job, brain.
“Please,” Harrington whispers, and Eddie thinks desperately this must be some kind of joke, except he’s good at reading people, and he knows the desperation in Harrington’s eyes.
“Okay,” he says, stammers. “Um. There- there’s, behind the school, a, uh-”
“Table,” Harrington nods. “That works. Just…” he sighs, rakes a hand through his hair. “Leave the lunchbox at home.”
Eddie’s eyebrows hit his hairline. “Then what the fuck do you want with me, dude?”
“I can’t explain. Not here, not now. Just. Please. After school, okay?”
Eddie looks at him. Really looks, studies his face, understands the lines by his eyes, the tightness of his mouth. His heart thumps as he realizes. He’s scared. “Okay,” he says, and means it.
Eddie’s a man of his word, so after school he makes his way to the table, pausing when it comes into view. Harrington’s already there, sitting with his head in his hands. Eddie calls out from a couple of paces away. “You sure you don’t want anything from the lunchbox?”
Harrington jumps, hands up, eyes round. Relaxes a little when he sees Eddie. “No. I- I’m good. I can’t, actually.”
Eddie frowns. “What, like, a sports thing? No one’s gotta know, dude, I’ve never been busted, I can keep a secret.”
Steve gives him a half-smile. “No. It’s- it’s not a sports thing. Just… sit down? And promise to listen?”
“Okay,” Eddie says, because he knows how comforting it can be to just have someone there, and he’s not a dick; clearly Harrington’s going through something. Though why he approached Eddie, of all people, he doesn’t know.
“Okay,” Harrington repeats back, taking a breath before starting. “If I were to tell you I’m from the future, a future in which we know each other, how would you ask me to prove it?”
Eddie blinks. He was ready for a lot of things, but not time travel. “Um. I dunno, man, I haven’t really thought about it.”
He takes another deep breath. “Can I try?”
“To- to prove you’re from the future?”
“Yeah.”
Eddie laughs, a little hysterically. “Man, where the fuck do I get the strain you’re on?”
He blinks. “What?”
Eddie gestures at him. “Come on, man, you have to admit you’re not really making sense here.”
Harrington sighs. Takes another breath. Says, “You live with your uncle Wayne. Your father taught you to hot wire cars when you were nine. You listen to Dio and Metallica and Ozzy Osbourne but your favorite song is I Will Always Love You, by Dolly Parton, because it was your mom’s favorite. The guitar pick you wear around your neck was hers. She taught you guitar. You love The Hobbit. Stop me when I’ve said enough.”
Eddie’s never been more scared in his life. “Listen, man, I dunno where you heard all that-”
“Eddie,” he says, implores, and digs something out of his pocket. Opens his hand to reveal a ring.
A ring Eddie already has on his finger.
“What the fuck,” Eddie whispers. Grabs for the ring before he can tell himself it’s a bad idea. Examines it, sees the dent from where his finger had gotten smashed in a door.
His hands start shaking.
“I’m from 1987,” Steve Harrington says, sure as anything. “And I’m trying to stop something terrible.”
“And what would that be?” Eddie asks, feeling strangely detached from the whole thing.
“Your death,” Steve Harrington says, still sure as anything.
Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect
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sillysowa · 9 months
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SEXTAPE
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PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER
GENRE: SMUT, STARTS OFF PRETTY CUTE BUT GETS KINKY
WORD COUNT: 1.1K
WARNINGS: PERVY HOBIE, VAGINAL FINGERING, BITING, SLIGHT DEGRADATION(?), HOBIE FINGERS YOU WHILE YOU PLAY GUITAR, RECORDING SEX
AUTHORS NOTE: I LOVE THIS SONG AND I FULLY KNOW ITS NOT DIRTY, BUT ITS MY INSPIRATION. (‘TING’ IS JUST SLANG FOR THING!)
SYNOPSIS: HOBIE JUST CANT GET ENOUGH OF HIS GIRL PLAYING HER GUITAR
Your amateur fingers danced over your electric guitar, a messier version of Sextape by Deftones ringing out in your empty room. Your amp blinked, your room was freezing, and you found yourself growing more comfortable with the beginning riff. This song was important to you—Hobie having introduced it to you on your first date when he drove you home. It was late, and you were tired, but the song left a mark on you.
The window was open like it always was, awaiting your lover boy. Hobie was at Headquarters for god knows what reason, and he had been gone very long now. You had no way of knowing when he’d be home, busting yourself with your new hobby. It was strange and it was difficult, but when you got it, it sounded beautiful.
Hobie had had an exhausting day, wishing he could be home with you the whole time he was at HQ, but understanding the need for his help. Finally, he was out of there, walking back into London through a portal and sighing in relief. He was standing on the side of your apartment building with his hands in his pockets, walking up the wall and pausing when he heard you cursing,
“Shit, No! I just had it are you kidding?” You grunted, awkwardly adjusting your fingers for the chord you were desperately trying to perfect. Hobie’s ears pricked up, the sound instantly earning his undivided attention as he crouched outside your window, head peeking in just enough to not catch your attention but to give him a good view of you.
To you, you looked a mess. To Hobie, you looked like something straight out of a wet dream—your hair was out of your face, (whether that’s with a bonnet, hair tie, or whatever works for you!) and you were in just your underwear and a tank top. Your guitar was on your lap, and the frustration in your face went straight to his dick. Hobie couldn’t help it, you just looked so ravishing when you were upset.
You were in the middle of the chorus when your boyfriend Hobie makes his arrival through your window, but you don’t jump, you’re used to it by now.
“Hobie, I was beginning to think you’d be gone all ni-“ You start, beginning to take your guitar sling off when Hobies large hands outstretch towards you, palms up,
“Wait-wait-wait! I wanna hear! Don’t wanna miss the show.” He smirks, backing away when you reposition your guitar with a slight eye roll. Hobie just laughs at you as he gets changed,
“It’s really not any good so far, Hobie, and i’ll probably mess up if you’re watching.” You whine, not exactly interested in embarrassing yourself in front of your experienced boyfriend.
“Hey don’t even start with all that, you’re doing great, luv, and I wanna hear the progress.” Hobie quips, a finger pointed towards you as he nears the bed. You’re surprised when Hobie gets real close next to you and then ushers you to scoot forward a bit, then it clicks,
“Hobie-“
“What?” He says, feigning innocence as he invites you to sit with your back to his chest, his legs spread to give you room. You sigh when you realize he won’t let you not do this, positioning yourself,
“You’re such a perv, Hobie.”
“Yeah and you love it.” He smirks, pulling you real close.
You position your fingers on the neck of the guitar, momentarily forgetting what song you were playing. You feel Hobie’s hands on your thighs, and you try to focus. The songs starts. It’s surprisingly steady sounding, and the strings aren’t buzzing like earlier.
“That’s it, good job.” Hobies deep voice rumbles behind you, almost causing you to lose track. You’re playing the song as best as possible, shifting slightly, completely unaware of the effect it was having on Hobie. You feel his fingers creep down to your covered slit, and you pause,
“Hobie?” You question with a slight tilt of your head only for him to grab your chin and face you forward again, hushing you,
“Keep playing.” His voice instantly silences you, and you follow his command, fingers dancing across the strings and continuing the song. You shiver as he starts to rub your clit through your panties, praising you when you do well, giving you tips when you mess up.
A chill trickles down your spine as Hobie moves your underwear to the side, spitting on his fingers before he slowly pushes two into you,
“Ngh~ Hobie! I-I can’t by play like this!” You moans and squirm, only resulting in a toothy grin to take over his features,
“Sure ya can, sweetheart. Just focus f’me.” Hobie reassures you, his voice deep and raspy. He starts to steadily pump his long fingers in and out of your cunt, which is being embarrassingly loud while you play.
“Mmm~ Ha~ Hobie~!” You moan, struggling to keep playing as he speeds up. The feeling of his fingers curling into that soft spot inside you drives you crazy, and you struggle,
“Finish the beautiful song for me love, I know you can.” Hobie whispers in your ear, kissing your neck and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight. He fingers you so fast you see stars, and you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore, moaning anything and everything that you feel. Hobie whispers in your ear the whole time,
“Oh you poor ting can’t even play anymore, feels that good yeah?” He chuckles, picking up speed when he feels your walls clenching around him. Your guitar is long forgotten, Hobie fingering you to your release like it’s a sport to him. When your back arches and you cum, Hobie leaves small bites on your neck and sucks hickeys all over, boner throbbing against your back as he whimpers at the sounds of your pleasure.
“Good girl baby, good girl.” He grunted, pulling his fingers out of your pussy while you whine, then tapping them on your lips, “Clean em up dollface.” He groans, cock hard against you as you suck his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue over them. When he pulls them out, he pulls your guitar over your head and web shoots it onto the wall, mounting it. Hobie grabs your neck, his jewelry clanging in the process as he gets up on his knees. He frees his cock and bends you over, your ass up and head down while you grip the sheets, incredibly flustered and shy from his sudden horniness. Suddenly, Hobie pulls your neck back and his phone is right in front of you. He records your expression when he thrusts into you, both of you moaning loudly before Hobie grunts,
“Smile for the camera, luv.”
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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
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Dead on Main AU 3
Masterpost
So this one is a bit longer, but that's because part of it is the same phone conversation from the other side.
~~~~~
“Road trip!” Dick calls out. All of the- siblings(?)-younger people start to scramble before Bruce calls out for them to stop.
“This is going to be a 12 hour drive one-way, which means we won't be back until dinner tomorrow at the earliest. Not all of you can go.” This causes a lot of frowns and Danny holds in a chuckle. They start arguing over why they should be able to go and Bruce pinches his nose, right between his eyes as they shout at him.
“First and Foremost, I do believe that Masters Duke, Damian, and Stephanie have school tomorrow.” Alfred inserts. Everyone quiets to listen to him, Danny notes. Everyone else they’ll talk over, he must be important, be extra nice to him.
The three must sigh and sit back down at the table. 
“Cass, if you wouldn’t mind staying to keep them out of trouble overnight. I’m sure Alfred will see them out to school.”
Cass shrugs, then signs at Dick who responds “Of course!” Danny hadn’t realized that she was speaking sign language this whole time.
Bruce then turns to face Dick and Tim. “You have absolutely no way to keep us from coming.” Dick sing-songs.
“You both have work tomorrow.”
“Actually, Dick and I called out ten minutes ago, family emergency.” Tim shrugs. “We won’t be in for a few days unless things change.”
“Alright, go grab your things.” They both whoop and you can just tell they were both about to start running when they catch eyes with Alfred and just start walking really fast. “Pack light, and grab some changes of clothes for Jason!”
Before they can leave a phone starts ringing. They all look around before all eyes settle back on Danny. He feels around his pockets for where the phone is, before pulling it out and seeing his own number on the caller ID.
“Oh, it’s me!” Danny hurries to pick up as he hears someone mutter “Why didn’t we think of that?” from the table. Dick and Tim are almost immediately right next to him as he mumble out a hello.
“Um, hello, Jason?”
“Yeah, this is Jason. You with my family?” His heart thumps when he hears his own voice coming out the other side of the phone. It somehow makes the whole situation seem a bit more real then it did before.
“If the people that were in the room with you before are your family. I really only have confirmation that one of them is your dad.”
“Hey, we’re his family”
“We’re all his brothers and Cass is his sister.”
“Have those motherfuckers not even introduced themselves?” 
So much talking at once, Danny tries to focus on his own voice coming through the phone. It’s a little deeper than it usually is, gruffer and lilted like it’s trying to talk in an accent the mouth isn’t familiar with shaping. Danny supposes the voice he’s speaking with now must be doing the same.
“Sort of. Eventually.” Jason sighs loud enough to hear over the phone and Danny chuckles at the response. 
“Right, well your name is Danny right?”
“Yeah! Have you talked to my family yet?” They were all home the last he checked, and Jazz usually tells him before she heads out. 
“No, haven’t left your room. Your name was on your homework though.”
“Oh, please do not judge the homework.” Danny rubs a hand down his face just thinking of that - his homework- being his soulmate's first real impression of him. 
“Didn’t even look at that part. So, I’m assuming that you guys are coming to me?”
Danny shakes off the embarrassment “I think so?” 
“Of course we are!”,  “Was he not paying any attention as we decided who should go?”, “We were just planning.” There are so many people talking at once again.
 Danny pulls his face away from the phone and turns to the room at large “Stop it, buzz off!”. He turns to face a wall and takes a few steps away.  “They said yes.”
“Please tell me they’re not all planning on coming.”
Danny hums, focused on something else. “Look, I do need to warn you…” what if he goes ghost, can he go ghost with Jason in his body? What are his parents working on today? “ about a few things actually. Jazz, my sister, her room is across the hall and she’ll be able to help you if you. I sort of have… like a medical condition. I would rather explain that to you in person, but she’ll watch out for you if you go meet her.”
“I can do that. Anything I should look out for?” Weird ice mist coming out of your mouth would be pretty unexplainable at the moment, but random things shooting at him can be avoided!
“My parents leave all kinds of weapons around the house, and sometimes they’ll target me-you- at random, so try not to touch anything, and either stay upstairs or have my sister take you somewhere in town. Whatever you do, don’t go in the basement, the lab is down there.” Almost everything in that lab is to be avoided, although since he is already in Danny’s body he shouldn’t be bothered by the potential radiation.
“Kid, what?” 
“This is really an in-person talk.”
Danny does not know how he would explain this over the phone, with a room of eavesdroppers behind him. Although they’ve become respectfully quiet, more whispers than anything now. 
“Sure, okay. Find Jazz, preferably leave the house.”
“Yep!” That would be best, Jazz will definitely help him. “Is there anything I should know?”
“Shit, if I had time I would give you a warning about everyone in my family individually, but for now… I don’t know if this will translate over…” It will, but there’s really no way to explain that. “I have… I guess it’s sort of a health condition as well. My family knows what triggers it, and they should be on their best behavior right now anyways, but if you wouldn’t mind putting someone on the phone I can threaten them properly.”
Danny laughs and puts the phone on speaker before calling out to the room, “You’re on speaker!” so everyone in the room knows as well as Jason. 
“I swear to god if any of you scare him, hurt him, or anything I’m going to kill you. I know everything you love and if you don’t act normal, just know, it will be destroyed.”
“Yeah, yeah. Jay, this is your soulmate!” Dick has bounded back over to Danny, right up in the personal space. 
“Also, most of us love you so that threat doesn’t work as well as you think it does.” Steph yells from the table, where she continued eating at some point.
“Bitch, I died once, I’ll do it again. Don’t test me on this right now.”
Danny starts laughing so hard he doesn’t register everyone else in the room having frozen at the outburst.
“Oh, wow, same.” Danny gets out once he can breathe again.
The room is staring at him again, but they seem to do that a lot.
“You must be Jazz.” They hear coming through the phone. “I’m Jason.”
“Jazz!” Danny calls out. 
“Danny would like to talk to you.” There’s a small shuffle. 
“Danny?”
“Hey, Jazz! So, apparently I’m the younger, so today’s the day. I’m with his family right now.”
“You have a plan? Are you coming home?”
“Yeah, just. Would you mind keeping an eye on Jason until I get there? It’s going to be a long drive so could you make sure nothing shoots him and that he gets edible food?”
“I’ll take him to Nasty for dinner, don’t worry.” Danny sighs in relief, he knew Jazz would help, but he did not need his soulmate food fighting with dinner.
“Sounds good, he’s in my body so he shouldn’t really be poisoned but Mom and Dad still can’t really cook. Speaking of which! He is in my body so if anything happens with the, um, medical condition, help him through that as well.”
“Of course, Danny.”
“Thanks Jazz! We were just deciding who was coming along, but apparently, it's about a 12-hour drive? So, you guys won’t see us until tomorrow.”  There’s a lot unspoken in this conversation, but Danny knows she’ll do her best. “Try not to interrogate him, and no psychoanalyzing!”
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yestrnight · 1 year
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ POCKET SLIME ! 
FROM: kaveh, alhaitham / gn! slime! reader
SUBJECT: you used to be a docile, little thing. a blob of extraordinary cuteness that just follows them around wherever they go. but how in the world did the pet slime they took in turn to be some sort of cum-hungry demon?
( this shit reads like a doujinshi, so don’t even bother using braincells; feels like im committing some sort of crime against the cute widdle slimes of genshin; unhygienic slime usage; reader has a diçk AND a pússy, reader also has a humanoid form don't worry; best of both worlds; urethra play (kaveh); dubcon; nipple play (alhaitham), throat fucking (haitham); they’re ALL on their receiving end; ahégao; )
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✧.*  KAVEH 
KAVEH who takes you in while you were plopping sadly around in the rain, sad little rumbles and bleps from your jelly body. he’s not so heartless that he’d kill some poor slime who doesn’t even have any interest in attacking him, only nudging its pudgy body against his shoes and looking pleadingly at him.
he likes to watch you eat the treats he brings home. it’s a stress reliever to see you munch on some sumeru roses he brought home, and he pats your blob figure fondly while you squeal in delight at his treats. you’re not a very picky eater, he finds out, but you’re more delighted whenever he feeds you something with elemental energy. once he learns of this, he brings home more and more elemental energy stuff, just to be on the receiving end of your cute lil snuggies.
KAVEH who lets you sit on his head whenever he’s working on his projects. while he sketches and measures, your cool jiggly body feels so comforting on his hair. sometimes he even falls asleep with you on him, and you slowly make your way to his cheek so you can protect him from the hard wood of his desk.
he genuinely brought you in because he thought you were cute, nothing more than that. he’s gotten fonder of you ever since the days pass by, and you thought of him the same. however…
KAVEH who wakes up to something warm and gooey sucking on him down there. as he squirms under the blankets, tiny little moans and whines escape his pretty little lips. the pink blush on his cheeks seems to brighten when he slowly opens his bleary eyes and sees his adorable slime sucking on the tip of his pretty cock. imagine the shock of seeing the pet he was so fond of doing nasty things to him!
“nnh–! [y-your name]! what are you– ahh ♡!” he tries his best to cover up and pull you away, but with no such luck. in fact, you suck even harder, the wet noises of his cum and your squishy body echoing throughout the room. you suck even harder, and the pleasure makes kaveh’s body jilt and shake every rhythm and pulse.
“angh… t- too much…!” he sobs and pushes you away, but his hands only sink into the slime. it’s only around this time he suddenly realizes the slow expansion of your blob body, slowly morphing into something familiar… something humanoid… something… cuter.
your wobbly smile looks so innocent even as you tongue the veins across his dick, and it sends blood to his head until he feels like he’ll pass out from a nosebleed. you gurgle something that sounds faintly like ‘master’ and ‘kaveh’... and gods does that make his dick hard.
“a s-slime turning into a human?” he gasps, sitting himself. “i must be going– ngH! c-crazyYY ♡ stop! s-stop!” using the dexterity and fluidity of a slime, your tongue compresses into something thinner. you ooze your way in into his urethra, the slimy thing bumping against the edges and leaves his toes curling and fingers gripping the sheets.
“ughk, mmh~!” he throws his head back, dick humping into your slimy mouth. “m-more ♡ k-keep going~! agh, ah, ah~!” your delighted gurgle sounds faint in his ringing ears, but he still manages to smile fondly. “g- good slime ♡ s-sucking on your master’s dick so h-ha-hARD! fuck!” he hisses when your tongue presses against his prostate. he pats your hair with one shaky hand and you nuzzle into it. “so ♡ cute ♡ you got even cuter ♡”
“‘m gonna blow! [your name]! ggh [your name]!” he whines and desperately grasps on the hair-like jelly. “s-slow down~♡! gh, nwah!” he wants to attribute your lack of understanding to your inability of comprehending human languages, but he swears he sees the shadow of a devilish smirk on your cute face before you griiiind your tongue right against his prostate.
as his climax hits him, KAVEH’s eyes roll and his back arches into the air as he shoots his seed into your mouth. the tears blur his vision, but he can see his white seed spurt into the jelly. satisfied with your meal, you finally pull out your tongue– getting some pretty screams from your master at the added simulation– and his body falls limp. you smile and giggle at him, kissing away the tears from his eyes, and slumping your cool body against him. 
“th– thanks, [your name],” he smiles at you, kissing you briefly before sleep takes him away again. “do that for me again, ‘kay?”
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✧.*  AL-HAITHAM
HAITHAM who is skeptical of the slime his fool of a roommate brought home. he raised an eyebrow when kaveh came home wet with a pudgy slime in his hands. “you know that can dissolve you, right?” he points out, ever the smartass. 
kaveh snaps back. “of course i know, idiot. but look at them! don’t you feel bad for them?” he raises you high and you give a warbly greeting, but alhaitham is far from impressed. his dramatic roommate rolls his eyes at him and kaveh carefully tucks you away. “let’s go, [your name]! this callous idiot isn’t worth your time!”
HAITHAM who didn’t pay you much attention, only ever seeing you while you drape off kaveh’s head when he enters for breakfast. you were well-behaved for a slime, anyway, so he shouldn’t concern himself much with you. but his interest is piqued when one day he hears devilish noises from kaveh’s room, sounds of slurping and sucking while kaveh whines pathetically muffled behind the door. clearly, it’s not kaveh doing the sucking and slurping, but…
HAITHAM who sees you again the next day at breakfast, draping off kaveh’s head as usual. he greets kaveh with his usual coolness, but kaveh, for lack of a proper word, looks completely fucked out. his legs shake as he pulls his chair, and when their hands touch while reaching for the food, he pulls back with a lip-bitten yelp. all the while, you garble incomprehensibly on him.
yeah, no. his roommate is definitely fucking his pet slime. haitham’s not chatty, but he’s got a million words for how fucked up the entire situation is. once kaveh is out of the house, he corners poor little you and stares down into your vacant little slime eyes. he won’t admit that he actually cares for his… once friend, so getting rid of the thing that has tempted him into immoral acts will be the best next thing.
“mm- mmgh?!” haitham doesn’t know how he ended up like this, gagged and bound by your slimy tendrils. while he tries to break free, he stares in astonishment as the blob slowly expands. the torso starts first, before extending into limbs, until the head takes shape and a very, very pretty smile is smiling innocently into haitham’s face. 
“☆♡♡?” your gurgles continue to be incomprehensible, despite the humanoid form. slowly, your cool hand caresses his face, holding his chin while your tendrils lift him ever so slightly up the ground. you kiss him, like how a lover would, the slightest bit of tongue swiping over his lips, but then you pull away— and he catches the devilish smirk before you lean in again and start fucking his mouth.
he thrashes in your slimy hold, slipping away only for the slime to thicken and tighten their hold on him. he glares at you with look of indignation as he tries his best to keep his mouth shut, only for you to slip your tongue between his lips and curl around his tongue. he shakes as you bring him closer to you so you can properly fuck him in his throat. you curiously watch as he gags and splutters on the length of the tendril, his glare never ceasing even though he looks like a proper slut with that dark red blush on him.
replacing your pseudo tongue for another tendril, you pull away from his face and eye his thin shirt. your curious hands roam over the expanse of his chest, and you delight in the softness of his pecs. feeling a bit too eager to get your hands under his shirt, you dissolve the cloth away and quickly reach up to rub his two pretty nipples. you roll them around in your fingers, giving each one a tight squeeze before going back to massaging them. 
HAITHAM, behind the slime gagging him, yelps when you lean in and bite one. you run a tongue over his wide areolas, studying his expressions to make sure you’re pleasing your master’s best friend properly. his glare is more subdued, the wriggling has lessened, and there’s an… anticipation in his eyes as he stares down at you. you’re more than delighted at the progress. this means he likes you, right? you always felt a little sad when haitham would glare at you, but now you can feel getting closer to him! best friends, even, just like him and your master!
and like every best friend does, you should make him feel happy too! lowering one gloopy hand down to his pants, you waste no time melting away his pants and underwear and morphing your hand into something akin to a suction cup. little tentacles line the inside of the cup, and a muffled groan from haitham convinces you to finally ungag him. he gasps for breath, staring at you with wide eyes and a fucked out look. “what… what are you waiting for?” haitham grits his teeth, trying to hide the desperation he’s feeling when you’re so, so close to finally giving him the relief he wants. “put that on me. now.” a pause when you don’t do anything, and the last left of his dignity leave him as he gives you a pleading look and buck his hips up. “please.”
you know from experience that that one syllable is the go ahead, and with enthusiasm and vigor, you put the cup on him and start sucking. “mmm! ngh, ah, too much! ah!” you think his moans are pretty. huskier and deeper than your master’s soft and light whines, and that only makes you sucke even harder. the stimulation forces him to bend his back as he dangles in mid-air, forcing his fat cock deeper into your suction-hand. the dizziness of the upside down world makes the blood rush to his head, and he feels his eyes rolling to the back of his head when you tickle the throbbing vein running the downside of his cock.
“ah, sh-shit, you’re taking me all in ♡” sweat makes his skin glisten, highlighting even more his soft pecs and his abs. tendrils reach out from your back as they glide themselves around his waist and guide him back up. he’s positively shivering as you continue pounding his cock in and out of your hand, and his tongue is shivering when you pull him in for another kiss.
somewhere in the back of his mind, haitham swears he’ll make a research paper on you– on how intoxicating and aphrodisiacal you can be.
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✧.* IT’S A THREESOME!
KAVEH bounces himself on your dick, your squishy body serving as his cushion as he lets his limp body get absolutely wrecked by a thick and veiny cock you fashioned from your ever-morphing body. his pretty dick slaps HAITHAM’s muscled torso as the younger one slaps his heavy balls against the pussy just underneath your balls. 
your slime encases the both of them flicking haitham’s nubs up and down and fucking kaveh’s urethra open, just the way they like it. it should be humiliating, the two roommates who could barely stand each other now open and so vulnerable to each other. but kaveh’s face is contorted in a lewd expression, eyes crossed and tongue hanging out of his mouth as he gets his ass destroyed, and haitham can’t find the energy to even insult him.
well, maybe a little bit. “you– ngh! – you really brought a beast into my home, huh?” he pants out, grabbing kaveh’s waist for stability as he thrusts his dick into you like a beast in rut. “you really couldn’t resist the chance to get yourself fucked silly, huh, my dear senior?”
kaveh whines when he feels haitham going even faster on you, and he tries to cover his face with his arm. “sh– shut up, okay?! i– a-ah ♡ i didn’t knooow! i thought they were a c-cute l-little thing ♡ but now they’re–” a sob escapes him as you abuse his prostate. “they’re just bullying me e-everydayyy ♡”
haitham locks eyes with you, innocent and vacant, not a single thought behind them. but it’s hard to see you as anything but innocent when you’re offering up both your cock and pussy to your two masters.
“you’re one crafty thing,” haitham bites out. but all you offer to him is a happy little noise when you think that you’ve made your two masters happy and fulfilled. just like how that man taught you to.
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DPXDC prompt. Family? Assemble!
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Reporter: Gotham News, and we have a new supervillain on the line. Mr Phantom, what are your demands at the moment? Phantom with lack of sleep and with tears: I..I want a titanium model of a spaceship! And to get a good night’s sleep and to go to the local school…and some fudge and.. Reporter: Oh, my bad. Just one question for clarification, are you by any chance an orphan or are your parents villains? Phantom: I prefer the term mad scientists Reporter: Okay. So, Gotham news! And with me on the line is the new potential child of Wayne or Batman. Want to know how two serial adopters will share a child leading a double life? Stay with us and find out. Now let's check in with Jessie for our weather report. Phantom: Wait, what?
~~~~~
Danny spends the night running from the Red Hood with a bag of fudge, Red Robin with a pot of coffee, Batman with the adoption papers and, for some reason, Brucie Wayne with an idea of internship at a space station. Ha! The Justice League will never let a ghost into orbit. Not that Wayne can blackmail superheroes or smth. Danny: Fuck you all! I’m done with vigilante activity, I’m not your competitor! What do you want from me? And I’m done with crazy billionaires too. I swear, I’d rather be adopted by a local mob boss just to piss you off! ~Later~ Danny *sees peering out of the corner Matches Malone*: Are you kidding me?! Robbie *jumps off the roof and lands right behind Danny*: Stop running, lil brother, No one’s left the family yet. Minnie: What about Neal? Robbie *shakes a knife with a bow on the handle negatively*: He’s on sabbatical, that doesn’t count. Anyway, it’s a gift for you, cub. Danny: Um, thank you, but my lab scalpels are definitely sterile, and your blade was in who knows who before you brought it here. Robbie: It’s brand-new! And Archie decorated it with a ghost on the handle. Look! It's cute! With a smile and… Dick: Hands up! You’re under arrest for trying to steal our new member! Minnie: Why is he yours, damn cop? Selina: Boys, don’t fight. He’s mine. Schrodinger’s cat is still a kitten. Killer Croc: No way, my niece is staying with me. Danny: Uncle Waylon? Long time no see. Ra's: My grandson needs steady access to ectoplasm. Danyal, come with me. Danny: Over my dead body! Oh shiii…I mean no. Anyway, don’t you think the alley’s getting a little crowded?
~~~~
Killer Croc: Is he still mad at me? RR: Danny doesn’t talk to uncles who tried to eat his beloved brother Red Robin. Killer Croc: He wasn’t even your brother then. What do you want? An apology from me? RR: That would be nice.
~~~~
Danny: I didn’t think the GIW agents would really fear the reputation of Gotham and not follow me. What a relief! Jason *quickly throws the knife into the sink*: Wow, you got lucky. Alfred: Master Jones, why don’t you eat your steak? I thought last week you were complaining to Batman that 'cause of him you got not many prey. Croc *pulls a piece of white robe from the teeth*: Well, now there is a lot of it. Bruce *gives Jason and Croc the side-eye*.
~~~~
Ra's: You do realize that Malone, Wayne and Batman are the same person, right? Boy, you were born into a family of geniuses, don’t disappoint Grandpa. Danny: Triple pocket money, triple gifts for the holidays, the opportunity to complain about the same family member three times. No, Grandpa, I definitely don’t understand. Ra's: Smart little weasel.
~~~~
Selina: Okay. Purely theoretical. Do you like to steal? Danny: I wouldn’t say that. But somehow I stole the sword from the fright knight. And also stole few jewels but then I was under the mind control. I returned them. Well, the crown and ring of the king of the ghost zone I also took without permission. Oh, and the answers to the test once. And I’m really sorry about the last one. Neal: I feel the story behind it but I prefer to know nothing about it.
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cattordi · 11 months
Text
a/n did y’all miss me??? writing this in class 🤗 so enjoy. honestly felt like i write absolutely too much abt absolutely nothing
summary you get a flat tire on the way to a party and on top of that you’re in the middle of nowhere so you call bucky to help you
pairings brothersbestfriend!mechanic!bucky barnes x collegestudent!reader
warnings smut , breeding, praise, not proofread, choking, foul language, arguing?,a bit of fluff etc. 18+ MINORS DNI
don’t test me
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“only this would happen to me” you groan before pulling your car over in the absolute middle of nowhere.
you were on the way to a spring break party but clearly the universe had other plans. getting out of your car, you walk around to check out the damage.
low and behold, a flat tire.
“no fucking way.” you whisper. you were miles away from a gas station or any sort of place other people were. grabbing your phone from your back pocket of your jean shorts, you scroll through your contacts finding your brothers name.
you place the phone to your ear and sit for a bit letting it ring.
and ring.
and ring. until finally you’re sent to voicemail.
what the fuck?
you hesitate as you keep scrolling through your contacts looking at other options of help; until you finally reach that one person.
bucky.
your least favorite human to ever walk the earth but you could never deny how he made you feel sometimes.
the man was good with his words, you have to admit it.
only problem was, he was your brothers best friend and also a dick.
pressing the call button, you wait as the phone rings.
“please pick up, plea-“
“hey y/n, what’s up?” he says and there’s shuffling in the background.
“hey, i’m sorry to bother.”
no you aren’t.
“i got a flat tire and i need help changing it. if you can’t that’s fi-“
“where are you?”
“in the middle of nowhere.”
“what the hell? get in your car and send me your location. i’ll be there in 15.”
knowing you’re at least 30 minutes out of town, you comply and wait.
after what feels like 20 years, bright head lights blind you from behind and you sit up in your car. your drivers side door flies open and a pissed bucky stares at you.
“you could’ve at least locked the door y/n. hell you could’ve gotten murdered.”
rolling your eyes you get out, “didn’t think anyone would even be out here at this time of night.”
“don’t start with your attitude.” he begins while pulling a car jack out his truck, “i’m not in the mood.”
“whatever.”
“why are you even out here this late?”
“what are you my dad?”
“no but i’m your brothers best friend and i have the right to know.”
“it’s none of your busines.” you say and glare at him.
“tell me.”
“no.”
“y/n..” he basically growls at you.
“no.”
“i swear if you don’t tell me.”
you can see the frustration in his face so to be a brat, you keep going.
“i was going to get fucked.” you say and try not to laugh.
visible jealousy crosses his face and he stands from his squatted position. “you what?”
“i was going to have sex? is that a prob-“ you begin but are cut off by a hand around your throat.
“you know that pisses me off, so why keep pushing it? hm?” he hums the last part, “you tryna get to me darling?”
you do the best you can to nod as pleasure filled tears brim your eyes.
this is what you always wanted from him.
his metal hand slims into your shorts finding your clit. “do you want me to take you in my truck?”
you nod and his eyes go dark, taking a bit of the pressure off your throat.
if anyone passed by, you’re sure the police would be called.
“use your words.”
“yes.”
“good job baby.”
you both walk to his truck, him following behind you.
he opens the door to the back for you and you hop in immediately filled with even more excitement.
as soon as he closes the door behind the two of you, his lips attack yours. though you’re in such a small space it feels just right for the two of you.
pulling at your shorts, bucky unbuttons them and pulls them down with your underwear.
he takes notices of the wet spot on your panties and chuckles. “so wet for me already.”
his hand slids between your folds; coating every inch of you before two fingers slide in.
you gasp at the stretch and his pace only gets faster. “you feel so tight around my fingers baby.”
“i’m gonna cum.”
he stops and you’re immediately pissed off. “why’d you stop?”
“i want you to cum when i’m you.”
you hadn’t notice his jeans were down but his dick caught your full attention,
and my lord was it big.
“it’s not gonna fit.”
“oh it will. lay back for me.” he says calmly all the while, lining up at your entrance.
the anticipation wears off as soon as he slams in you and begins moving. the truck fills with sounds of moans and skin slapping.
“you’re so tight, i love it.” he says and his strokes become faster.
“you’re so big.” you say in between moans. “i’m getting so close.”
“you’re doing so well,” he begins and leans down to kiss you, “you take me so well.”
you’re getting closer and closer to coming everytine he hits your sweet spot and it couldn’t feel any better. “harder please.” you moan and he complies immediately, thrusting into you.
“i’m gonna cum.” you say and at that moment his thumb finds your clit and rubs big meaningful circles.
“my lord darling, you feel so good around me. it’s taking everything in me not to cum right now.”
he continues to thrust into you getting you closer and closer to what you both desire. “i’m cumming bucky.”
“i feel you darling, keep going. you’re squeezin’ me so tight.” he begins and you continue to cum around his cock,”i’ve waited for this for long baby.”
yours moans get louder as when grabs your legs and puts him on his shoulder, making his thrust hit a different spot inside of you. “y/n..” he moans, “fuck you’re making me fun babydoll.”
with that, his continues his fast thrust hitting your g-spot repeatedly till he comes.
warm spurts of cum fill you as his thrust slow down and eventually come to a halt. “holy fuck that was the best sex i’ve had in a long time..” you say while trying to catch your breath.
“you wanna go again?”
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duc-kie · 1 month
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Could you write about Lando after his p2 in Singapore and he goes full dominative on you? Maybe that you went out before with Carlos and a couple of the other drivers to celebrate the Singapore podium and you have been teasing him the whole night and he’s completely done with it?
Okay I know I took a really long time to answer and I’m genuinely sorry. I’ve been going feral over the video below. It also inspired me to make this blurb🤭
This looked better in my head tbh. Written it just feels really random and idk. Still hope you like it though!
THE FINGERS, THE RING, THE GENTLENESS, JUST HIM IN GENERAL
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You were enjoying yourself on the dance floor with some of your friends, while your boyfriend Lando was celebrating his podium with some fellow drivers. This whole night has been crazy, full of sexual tension and teasing touches between the two of you.
You've been craving Lando the whole day. All you wanted was his touch all over you and he knew it. You tried to seduce him but he wouldn't give in, so you decided to wear the sexiest dress you own to the after party for his Singapore P2 finish.
His eyes widened when you arrived with your girlfriends. You enjoyed a few drinks and were quite tipsy and consequently even hornier so you made your way to the table where Lando and his friends were chatting and having drinks. You greeted them all before sitting on Lando's lap and taking a sip of his whiskey. Licking your lips, you leaned down to kiss him.
When you started moving your hips and rubbing yourself against his already semi hard dick he had enough. He excused you both and basically dragged you to a just slightly more private corner and pinned you against the wall. His knee found it’s way between your legs, pressing on the spot where you’ve been craving his touch for a while. "You still wanna play games?" he asked wrapping a hand around your neck. "but what about all the people Lando?" you asked looking around to see if anyone is looking at you. "you didn't seem to care before, did you?" he asked and before you could answer he shoved his tongue down your throat.
You couldn't help but start grinding on his knee that was still between your thighs. letting our quiet moans.
You pulled away from the kiss catching your breath and looking around wondering how many people are watching you. he grabbed your chin and turned your head to face him telling you to keep your eyes on him. "these people are too drunk to care what we're doing, don’t worry" he reassured you before taking your hand and leading you through the crowd to the VIP area.
There was no one there so you felt slightly more at ease. Lando didn’t waste any time and quickly continued what you started. Pinned against the wall you felt his fingers drag your panties down your legs. He took them off and stuck them in his pocket.
His lips then quickly found their way to your neck. He knew where all your sweet spots were and he made sure he left a mark on every single one. Moans and needy whimpers left your lips from the wet and warm feeling on your neck. Your hands made their way up his arms to play with his hair.
Lando reached down to gently rub your clit, soaking his fingers in your pre-cum. "mmm so wet" he quietly murmured into your neck. "Lando please" you moaned out, desperate to have his fingers shoved deep inside you. "what do you want princess, use your words." he encouraged you, continuing to rub your pussy painfully slowly.
"I want you to finger fuck me" you said, adding a "please". That wasn't enough for him though. "beg for it" he said looking straight into your eyes. You were so desperate for at least just a little more friction in your sensitive areas, words and pleads just spilled out of you. When you were practically on your knees begging, Lando was finally satisfied.
He stopped rubbing your clit for just a minute to quickly taste you on his fingertips, humming in satisfaction. A finger quickly found it’s way into your pussy, and he was quick to add another one. They slid in with ease since you were so wet you were practically dripping on the floor from the buildup of desperation throughout the whole day.
You were clenching around his fingers, chasing release. It didn’t take long for you to reach your high and spill cum all over his soft fingers. Moaning his name you grabbed his shoulders for support, nearly collapsing. While you were trying to catch your breath he shoved a finger into your mouth expecting you to suck it clean, and you obviously obeyed.
After you regained balance he walked you out of the bar. Your cheeks were extremely red walking through the crowd of people that probably saw everything, not to mention you were in a really short dress without panties underneath.
You can probably imagine how the rest of your night went after you came home.
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bambiesfics · 1 month
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𝗘𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗦𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗚𝗳 — Ellie x Bimbo!r
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𝜗𝜚 Author’s notes ✦ Butch/femme dynamics, Ellie has a panic attack, this references joel’s death, anxiety, bile, nausea, and hyper sexual themes, Ellie’s butch, wears a packer/strap. Refers to it as cock, dick etc Reader’s a bimbo and genuinely stupid. Ellie gets really scared.
𝜗𝜚 Ellie Williams ✦ I listened to Vietnam - Crystal Castles it’s tempo mirrors Ellie’s panicked anxiety. I’ve linked to a few seconds before the beat drops, on YouTube for accessibility. Listen with earphones so the music fucks your ears.
𝜗𝜚 If you find yourself uncomfortable with the themes in this fic, maybe try educating yourself on Butch sexuality. Read this to get a sense of Ellie’s headspace.
kisses u. ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡.
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Ellie fisted the joystick into neutral and killed the engine. She cracked all 5 knuckles before reaching over to release your seatbelt. The belts cold buckle sprang across your breasts and over your shoulder, turning your nipples visibly hard and full in their wake. Ellie fought off the urge to glance down; to drink them in. She was semi-successful at managing away her inner teenage boy every time it chose to rear its ugly hungry head at inopportune moments.
  “So…” she started, her hand massaging the inner dough of your thighs, warmed by the hug of your crossed legs. “We just gettin’ your little sparkly earrings? Or are you gonna get distracted and spend more money than I make in a single paycheck?” 
  You ran your palms up the sleeves of Ellie’s brown military jacket. Fascinated by the texture of the rough fabric everytime one of its crinkles caught against your acrylic nails. You couldn’t fathom how Ellie walked around in clothes so rough and distressed, all of your outfits were soft cotton or silky satin. And here Ellie wore a deconstructed uniform jacket like it was meant for her body. You blinked away your distracted thoughts, and leaned into nose at her neck. Pressing nose and lips to the source of the most comforting scent in the world to you. Allspice, cigarette smoke, and 2-in-1 body wash. There was still a faint trace of her cologne, you wish she wore it, the traces of it made you go brainless for your butch.
  “Earrings only.” Your sweet voice was muffled against her neck. She reached her other hand up to cup the back of your neck. The cold metal of her rings kissed your skin, but you leaned into it.   
 “I’ll wait for you right here, peach.” 
“Okay.” You nodded obediently. 
“Don’t spend too long in there, okay?”
“Okay.” You nodded once again. 
“If anyone stares at you too long or makes you feel weird for being girly, call me and I’ll meet you wherever. Especially those judgemental ass grandmas.”
You looked up at her, her hair was in her eyes, casting a shadow that turned her gaze into a deep hunter green. 
You leaned in slowly and kissed her lips. Ellie attempted to chase the kiss, until you slid your hand between the valley of her breasts and urged her to stay. Behave baby boy. 
  Ellie’s right eyebrow quirked up in response, impressed that you kept her in check. That you knew her so well that you could tell exactly where that kiss could’ve led to if you didn’t tell her to slow down. 
“Be right back here in an hour.” Ellie was relishing in how your thumb rubbed across her chest. Your hand rested on her chest like you were her little damsel in distress, looking to her to save you. You made her feel like Clark Kent, and it made her want to puff her chest out. 
  “Hour-and-a-half, I wanna get ice cream.” You prattled.
  “An hour.”
  “Ellieeee” You whined. 
  “If you’re not back here by 2:30 pm, I’m stomping into Icing myself, throwing you over my shoulder and marching right back out.” 
  “Please as if you could hoist me up over your shoulder.” You leaned over to fish Ellie’s wallet from her back pocket. 
  Ellie side-eyed you intensely as she tracked the movement. She enclsaped your wrist in an iron grip once your acrylics brushed the back pocket of her jeans. Her thumb pressed down. You couldn’t move.
“You didn’t seem confused about my strength when I lifted you into that full nelson and pounded you in front of the mirror.” She dropped her blue steel face and started grinning like a fox. “Uhnnuhuh Ellie, m’gonna squirt. I’m gonna squirt on you daddy.” She mocked in a high-pitched overly feminine voice. She drew her eyebrows together to school up the appearance of someone deliriously aroused. One that mimicked your cock-drunk face all those days ago.  
  Ellie dropped the comedic expression for a moment, in favor of replacing it with the one she sported to intimidate customers who started testing her boundaries or her patience. The one that said ‘respect me.’  
“Fuck you, asshole. I’m made of steel.” She spat.
  You leaned up, and just planted a glossy kiss on her cheek. She blushed until she was cherry tomato red. She always blushed harder when you were affectionate to her, in the middle of her egotistical masculine delusions. Like a mom kissing her son's cheek, after he called himself Spider-Man. 
Ellie would tease you for hours. But remind her again you were her adorable little girlfriend who she worshiped, then she’d be back to acting right again. Ready to hump the air just to get a whiff of your hair. Sweet and pliable. Ellie crossed her fingers subtly and hoped you got specks of glitter gloss on her cheek from that kiss. She wore your kisses like merchandise. Those and the smell of your pussy on her mouth and fingers. Some days, the smell was just smeared all over her face. 
  You blinked at her, slow and pouty in the way that got her real happy and pleased. “Now that you’re done poking and teasing me, can I go inside to get my sparkly earrings?” 
Ellie slid her wallet into your palm, her lips parted at the way your acrylics snatched it. The way they sunk into the soft leather. Mmmm.
  “An hour.” 
You climbed out of her beat up hatchback. The metal groaned as you slammed the door shut. “See you Els, if I get in trouble or get lost I’ll call you okay? I charged my phone this time. Bye-bye.”  You sing-songed just before walking away, out of the parking lot and towards the entrance of the mall.
  You were the utter definition of hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go. Ellie drank in the very very obvious little characters of your ass. The jiggly flesh, dimpled skin, and the way they smacked each other with each step. The type of visual someone could only see if the person walking in front of them was naked. Which you practically were considering how your pink cotton leggings looked painted on. The silhouette was way too intimate with how well it showed the character of your ass. She could’ve forced you to change, but you two had such a good morning today. 
Ellie didn’t want to—no—she hated picking fights with you. Ellie being mad at you? That was just another Tuesday. She had temperament issues, trauma, death of a loved one blah blah blah. But you being mad at Ellie? She’d kill herself. She shuddered in the car at the thought of it, and swallowed her jealousy. Everyone sees your little dimpled ass? Fine. She’s the only person that’s seen it twerking for her during backshots. And anyway, you’d get jealous if she wore gray sweatpants to work, so she kinda understood the sentiment. Especially because she packed everywhere, and the bulge was glaring. 
  Ellie wrapped her knuckles on the steering wheel. Trying to distract herself from the slow and lonely weight of the parking lot. Joy Division’s “disorder” played in her head. She considered pulling out a Marlboro to smoke, but thought against it. She remembered how you squealed whenever she kissed you with cigarette breath, telling her how it made your kisses taste so bitter. 
Truth be told, she was just as clingy with you, as you were to her. You just initiated it more often. When someone follows her around like a little puppy trying to catch up to its much larger owner all day, it’s hard not to notice their missing presence. 
  Ellie played with her rings as the mounting anxiety gnawed at her tummy. She turned her wrist over to check her watch. Ten. Only ten minutes had gone by? Fucking christ. 
She puffed out her cheeks. Yeah she was being ridiculous. Knowing you, you probably had only just arrived at the store, and that meant making a cute pikachu face at every new piece of merchandise they shipped into the shop floor that week. So it’d be a while before you were back. She could’ve gone in with you, but Ellie knew her presence there would’ve weirdly encouraged you to take a full day tour of the mall. She was your walking wallet apparently. But it’s worse when the wallet can actually give in.
  It was better this way, you kept her card in hand, but Ellie wasn’t physically there to actually convince of anything. So you couldn’t use it to buy anything more than earrings. Plus, she couldn’t stand another trip to Victoria’s Secret. As much as she loved the way you modeled a show for her whenever you tried stuff on, and as much as the jokes she cracked with the other boyfriends waiting for their girlfriends to be done made for good conversation, Victoria’s Secret just served to make her feel incredibly out of place. Mostly due to its overtly sexual displays of femininity. Something she still struggled to place how she felt about. All Ellie knew was that she didn’t want it.
Matter of fact she had repelled femininity so much, it even reflected in her dating preferences. You were by far the most feminine girl Ellie had ever dated. That was a considerably large shift from the tomboys she typically had crushes on in highschool.  
But she couldn’t help but be turned on by the way your acrylics stroked her bulge, by the way you blinked up at her with those dolly lashes like you needed her approval more than you needed oxygen, by the way she got both wet and enraged seeing men’s gazes linger on you as she walked behind you. Lingering in a way that they never did for any of her exes. It ignited a possessiveness in her she had convinced herself she didn’t have the ability to feel. Made her walk out the house with her shoulders drawn up to her ears, scowling. As if to say to all the men, ‘fuck off, get your own cocksleeve. This one’s claimed.’ 
  You were the cutest cocksleeve too. The human embodiment of a little bow for her dick. 
Just the thought prompted her to squeeze her bulge through her jeans, feeling phantom erections.
God it’d been how long now? Ellie checked her watch, reading the watch face to make sure she’d read that right. Twenty minutes? Only?
  Her palms started perspiring, and she started grinding her teeth. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. She’ll be back any minute. Be cool, you freak. 
Ellie reached to grab her phone, but the way the time flashed at the top bar of the screen made her stomach knot up anxiously. She chucked her phone into the passenger seat, and rolled down the window to get some fresh air. It felt beautiful for a moment, her rough short hair curling around the wind and blowing in her eyes. But then she felt like she couldn’t breathe again. Like her throat was squeezing in on itself. So Ellie unbuttoned the top button of her navy plaid button down. She yanked the collar away from her neck, and took deep breaths. Nice and deep slow breaths. The demonic little shadows and whispers of panic ebbed away, leaving only room for peace and the sunlight of the early afternoon. Ellie smiled, she’d be fine. 
She played with her rings, recounting all the places and dates she’d thrifted them from. Then she started fidgeting with them as her leg bounced in the car, working off some of that returning nervous energy. The little shadows were starting to creep back in her mind again. Ellie white-knuckled the steering wheel. “No, no, no please. Not now, please not now.” She sucked in a deep breath as unshed tears lined her waterline. She flipped her wrist watch face up quickly, you’d been gone for thirty-five minutes by this point. And Ellie felt her skin run cold. thirty-five minutes left twenty-five minutes. Twenty-five more minutes for the ebb and flow of panic to infect her brain and trigger her adrenaline response. Twenty-five more minutes of letting her own mind attack itself. Ellie couldn’t stomach the thought. She started gasping as she fidgeted to remove the car keys from the ignition. The dark whispering shadow only urged her to look at one thought in her mind: Alone. You’re alone again, Ellie. 
  She nearly keeled over from the sheer nausea that thought brought about. Ellie tripped out of her car, slammed the door and stumbled towards the mall as her heartbeat thundered louder than her thoughts. And her thoughts were very loud. Her face felt tight and itchy, as she ran. And due to the combination of wind and glossy eyes, her vision warped until it became disfigured. Which only set off to make her blood run icier. Like she was being deprived of all her necessary  senses as she yanked the mall door open and stumbled around trying to wade her way through until she got to the side where women’s jewelry and clothing was huddled. Her vision was disjointed, Ellie felt as if she was looking through a fish-eye lens. It caused bile to rise in her throat. Ellie was spiraling, she knew it. And if she didn’t find you—fuck where were you?—it was only going to get uglier for her. She despised being reduced to ugly. She hated herself when she was ugly. 
  Snot mixed in with tears as she scaled the walls of the mall trying to use the brightness of pink and white signs to guide her to the right store. You promised you’d go to icing, you promised you’d go to icing, you promised you’d go to icing. She hummed the mantra in corners of her brain.
She gurgled “better fucking be at Icing otherwise I’m gonna kill he—my heart christ—fuck fuck fuck baby please be at icing.” The palpitations rolled in, causing her heart to beat erratically. Two beats instead of one, a skipped beat, or an extra hard beat. Every bastardized combination instead of the reliable, glub-glub of a healthy heart. Ellie gripped her own shirt, and tried to feel any lingering warmth from your hand when you placed it there nearly an hour ago. Her breaths were coming out ragged, and she was still blind with a disjointed vision no matter how much she rubbed her jacket across her eyes to soak up tears. Ellie stumbled until she saw a store with the familiar lettering, and she yanked and tugged at her shirt to ground herself as she made her way to the checkout lane. “Hi.” Her voice came out so small and strained. She hated herself for it. 
  “Have you seen a girl, she’s—seems about yay-high and she’s wearing pink leggings and a tight pink top. Oh—she’s pretty—long nails. My girlfriend, do you know where my girlfriend is?” Ellie choked, her sanity was slipping. Her bloodshot eyes were crazed as she stared down at the cashier like the woman held the answer to curing Ellie’s mental suffering. 
  “N-no. Sorry I didn’t see a girl with pink leggings.”
  “No?” Ellie’s voice grew fainter, weaker. She sobbed “are you sure?” but her voice crackled with that sentence, and the cashier just stared at her with a puzzled expression, unsure of what to say to diffuse the situation. 
  Ellie stumbled out of the store, flinching at the expressions of customers who were looking around the store to see if they were the only one witnessing the girl's mounting panic attack. She ran to an empty hallway in the mall. The one where they kept those gumball machines that hadn’t been replaced since 1998. She fell to her knees and curled in on herself. Her nails scratched her scalp until it broke skin, trying to draw out the thoughts of being alone, being alone, being alone, being, alone, being alone, being alone, being alone, being alone, out of her head. 
Ellie tugged at her hair now, using the self-inflicted pain to distract from that hungry giggling fear, the one that wrapped itself around her eyes and throat and told her to describe what she saw: loneliness. Pitch black, devoid of warmth, pure unadulterated isolation. 
She needed you, needed you so bad as she cried to herself on her knees. She should’ve never let you go alone, she should’ve never let you walk away from her, she should’ve never let you have an hour to leave her, she should’ve never let you take her wallet and not take her, she should’ve never ever ever ever ignored the signs, the raised hairs and the feeling of dread that pooled in her stomach the past week. Just waiting to be triggered by something insignificant. Now it was triggered, and in an incredibly public place too. Ellie beat her chest, coughing just to bring herself down from the dissociative hell her mind was flinching in. “Baby where are you? I’m hurting…it’s hurting me again. Pleasepleasepleaseplease, peach.”  
  Nails bluntly tickled her nape, sending a shiver down her spine just as the smell of sweet jasmine and vanilla perfume engulfed her. Ellie broke from her kneeling fetal position to draw you into her lap. She didn’t even need to look at you, she knew you like the back of her hand. Ellie knew the feeling of those acrylic nails because of how deeply they’d scratched down her back in bed. She knew the smell of your perfume from how often she’d buried her face into your waiting body after work for comfort. Her grip was painful, likely breaking capillaries from its tightness. She mewled for you like a kitten finding its mother. “Babygirl.” 
  “Ellie—Ellie I’m sorry did I take too long? I set an alarm, I don’t think it went off, I’m sorry Ellie I didn’t mean too I promise.” Ellie let out a wet laugh from where her face was crooned in your neck. She just shook her head. It absolutely was not your fault. But God weren’t you just the cutest fucking thing in the world for thinking you’d made another little mistake? How sweet, that even in the face of Ellie’s utter mental crack and breakdown, you found a way to give your baby the benefit of the doubt. Ellie dragged her face up your neck, inhaling deeply as her nose traced a path up your throat. The scent alone was like Xanax to the nerves, drowning her in a sea of serenity. Letting the anxiety ebb away until it was no more than a dull twinge, the whispers reduced to muted hums. You were her light. Ellie’s grip on you tightened, her medicine. 
  She pulled her face away, and she could only imagine how distressed she must’ve looked by the way your eyebrows drew up, and by the way your pretty little lips formed a worried pout. Ellie gnawed on her bottom lip. There was nothing to fear, you would understand. 
“You didn’t take too long princess, I just had a panic attack.”
  Your hands flew to cup Ellie’s reddened blotchy cheeks, massaging her face cutely as her eyelashes fluttered. God, you were a balm. “I should’ve seen it coming, I’ve been feeling so out of it the past week. But then this morning was so fun. We made fluffy pancakes, you sat on my lap and listened to my dumb work drama, helped me trim my bangs, then...” Ellie blew air into her cheeks and looked up. This was going to be hard to say. Felt like a lump stuck in her throat. “Then we got ready and the kiss we had before we got in the car made everything melt away. This morning was so good baby, so good. I tried to ignore it, thinking my brain just wanted to be a little asshole and spook me for no reason. But no—I should’ve known—it doesn’t play tricks, it only gives warnings.” 
  Ellie leaned into your palms, she kissed them gently. “Can we go home baby?.” She held your gaze through wet eyelashes. You nodded “Mhm. I’m sorry Els I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I missed you.” You were disappointed because you didn’t intuitively know the right words to say, and how to say them. Didn’t know how to articulate that you understood her pain but she also shouldn’t beat herself up. Everything you thought of sounded cliche, you weren’t smarter than her, you weren’t able to come up with reassuring words the way other people could. Not like her uncle Tommy or Maria, or anyone. All you could do was cover her in kisses, tell her you loved her, that next time you’d never ever be separated from her, and cradle her head against your chest. 
  Ellie rose to her feet, pulling you up with her by your elbows. The kiss that followed was for comfort, for reassurance. For the feeling of squeezing her human emotional support plushie. 
  Ellie pulled away first, leaving you wanting more. She tasted so good, smelled so good. Made you want to pur and stroke her through her jeans. But it wasn’t the time nor place. Not after recent events. 
“Did you get your earrings at least?” 
“Yeah, I got a pair for you too!” You shared excitedly. 
  Ellie was still shaken up, but for now she could break out a small grin. “You got earrings for me?”
  “Yes, same color too!” 
  “Baby, my ears aren’t even pierced...”
  “Oh.” Ellie loved that, your characteristic little ‘oh’. 
“I knew that. I just got them for when—for when you decided to pierce them, yeah.” 
Ellie was hot in your heels as you two made your way out of the mall “Is that right?”
“Mhm.” You refused to meet her eyes.
“Oh yeah? K, then. Thank you so much for getting me a gift using my credit card.”
 “You’re very welcome, I love when we match as a couple. Els when we got home, did you want my chicken noodle? Cause it’ll make you feel better.”  
Ellie sucked in a breath. Cuteness aggression was real, and she was feeling it so hard right then. Right after her emotions had already been frayed by her anxiety. She knew, if it wasn’t for the way the panic attack had left her feeling utterly exhausted, bone tired like a wet blanket, ready to drop at a moment's notice to recuperate, that she would’ve done something that would’ve pulled a squeal out of you in the car. And she had the package to do so. 
  “Sure, I’ll eat your damn noodle soup.” She chuckled tiredly. 
  You put both palms on her chest and leaned in to kiss her, stealing back some of the desire that was ripped away too soon in the mall. 
“You’ll feel better in no time.” 
 Ellie gave you a once-over. Over eager, as usual. 
“Somehow I don’t doubt that.” 
  You littered her face in kisses all the way home, like you always did. Like you thought each press of your lips to her freckled face was going to cure her of her anguish. And believe Ellie, every press of your puffy lips to her cheeks, tip of her nose and forehead did more for her state of mind than two hours of trauma therapy a week did. Or at least that’s what she’d like to believe. Fuck the noddle soup, it’s you. You’re what’s going to make her feel better. As long as you’re there, everyday for her to come home to. All she needed was her pretty princess, her little babydoll, her little bimbo.
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roosterforme · 3 months
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The Younger Kind Part 47 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: You keep Bradley on his toes like it's your full time job. That's why it feels so good to be the one to wear you out for once. With the upcoming air show to plan for, Bradley wasn't expecting his day to be shaken up by some phone calls.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, smut, oral, butt stuff, and age gap (18+)
Length: 4500 words
Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader
Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.
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Somehow, Bradley was ready to go again. He was standing outside his own bedroom door, heavy cock held in his hand and a paper crown on his head. Maybe he should have felt ridiculous, but you made him feel alive. You and he were fucking to make a baby now, and that's why he was already hard. That's why he would keep getting hard all night.
Rustling noises from the other side of the door had him raring to go, but he stood as still as he could. Finally you asked, "Are you there?"
"I'm waiting patiently, Princess. I got my crown on." He was excited, and maybe he was feeling a little cocky over the fact that you asked him to wear it for you. He loved seeing you in the purple one, because it made him feel like he owned you when he fucked you in it. And he wanted to be owned by you, too. 
When you opened the door, Bradley smiled. You looked so pretty, fresh faced from the shared shower the two of you had enjoyed together. Then you held up your phone and said, "I'm recording. Hi, Daddy." 
He stroked himself, already looking forward to loading this depraved video onto the purple USB drive. "Hey, Baby," he rasped, eyes drifting down your body to find you were wearing his last name over your perfect breast. Then he froze. Your arm was hanging down at your side right next to the bulging pocket of his dress whites jacket which was stuffed full with the box holding your engagement ring. "Shit."
"You feel like making a movie?" you asked, biting your lip and running your hand up and down his jacket. Bradley released his cock and lunged for you, and you laughed as his arm encircled your body. "Wow, Daddy. Your stamina is impressive for someone who can't use a smartphone."
His heart was pounding as he slipped his hand inside the pocket and wrapped it around the little box. Carefully, while he rubbed himself against your clit to distract you, he opened it up and ran his index finger along the edge of the diamond and the smooth band. The hinge closed again, and he pulled his hand and the box slowly from the pocket. Chances were you hadn't seen it.
Bradley kissed your ear as he cupped your ass with his free hand. You were wearing your plug, and when his fingers connected with the soft silicone, he moaned your name. "You chose me over the boys your age because of my stamina, Princess."
Your head was tipped back, eyes closed as he teased along your pussy with his long middle finger, rubbing your slick opening with his fingertip. He had you distracted while he looked around for somewhere to put the ring. Skittles walked into the room as you started whining, and Bradley made eye contact with the dog before tossing the ring at her tiny bed. The box landed softly, and Skittles trotted over to it, sniffing before walking in a little circle. She plopped down with her front paws and head covering the box. Noah was right all along; the damn dog was his best friend. 
"No," you moaned as Bradley slipped his finger deeper while he pushed on your plug. "I chose you, because I'm in love with you. The stamina and big dick are just a bonus."
When he confirmed that you hadn't been filming in the direction where he'd thrown the engagement ring, he turned the phone slightly in your hand to capture him nipping at your neck. "Right now, you get anything you want since you were a good girl in the kitchen and let me fuck you hard and rough."
He started to undo the jacket buttons so he could get his hands on the rest of you. "I want you to make me feel really full. And I don't think we should waste your cum in my ass, you know?" you panted as he stroked your furled nipple with his thumb.
"Jesus Christ, Princess," he growled. Less than seven months ago, you were his innocent looking babysitter that he was jonesing for, and now you were talking about his cock and cum in your ass. He kissed you softly. "I'll give you anything you want." 
"I know you will." You handed him your phone and guided him onto the bed on his back, and then you settled on your belly in between his spread legs and took his length in both of your hands. You were quite a sight this way, wearing his jacket, and he zoomed in with your phone and watched you place an open mouth kiss on his cock.
"You look pretty like that," he whispered, and his cock jumped as you grinned. 
"Are you going to watch this when you're deployed again?"
Bradley thought about the polaroids you sent him with last time. Maybe this would be a little more secure. He could already imagine watching this when he was lonely for home and missing you badly. You kitten licked at his precum as you made eye contact with him through the phone screen, and he nodded. "Yeah. I'll add it to the special gallery of all the dirty Princess shit on my phone. Watch it when I'm craving you."
You moaned softly and buried your face in his balls, nuzzling him as he spread his legs a little wider. You wanted to get fucked. He knew that. And he wanted to fuck you again, too. So he was going to have to lay here and get through another exemplary blowjob without cumming on your face or in your mouth. But with Skittles protecting your ring from you, he smirked and tucked his free arm behind his head and just enjoyed it.
"Show me what you got, Baby," he encouraged as you ran your tongue back and forth across his balls, and then you started to suck gently. "Good girl." He let you go for a while, enjoying the feel of your lips and tongue and the soft suction. "How about you suck my cock wearing my jacket and name tag."
You got up onto your knees and flashed the BRADSHAW name tag and your tits for him. "That's my Daddy's name," you said with a bright smile, before leaning down and taking his cock deep with one smooth motion that left his hips bucking up while he gasped.
"Shit!" You looked up at him and hummed with your mouth full, eyes bright and proud of yourself. You bobbed up and down, fast and jerky, and Bradley succumbed to the various noises he wanted to make. You grabbed at his base and licked at him frantically as you rubbed yourself on the bedding, and he just knew you were going to love rewatching this fucking video as much as him. 
But now he was getting a little too close for comfort, and you were the one who said not to waste it. "You taking me for a ride?" he managed to ask as you sucked on his tip and massaged your saliva all over his balls. 
When you popped him free you whined, "I want to," before crawling up his body and kissing him. "Make me feel full?" you asked, and Bradley set the phone down to take your face gently between his hands and stroke your soft skin.
"Always," he whispered, pressing his lips to yours over and over. "I love you."
You moaned into his mouth and told him how much you loved him back between kisses that he didn't want to end. But soon enough you were pulling away and turning your back to him. He snatched up your phone again and recorded the way you eased the white jacket off your shoulders and also bunched it up so he could see your purple plug. You turned back to look at him as you gently took his cock in your hand and sank down around him.
------------------------------
You loved the way it felt, but it was almost always on the verge of just being too much. The plug and Bradley at the same time filled you so much, it made you ache with pleasure. Every small movement had you whining his name. You knew he was still filming everything, but you didn't even have to act like you were about to get off, because it really was hopeless when he made you feel this good.
"Keep going, Baby," he encouraged as you rocked back and forth on his cock, clenching in need. Then you felt his fingers on your hip and butt before he found the base of your plug and gave you a little more pressure.
"It's too much!" you moaned as you rocked. "It's so good!" You turned around to watch him panting as he held your phone and pressed on your plug again. "You'll make me come," you gasped, and he just nodded in response. You held onto the fabric of his coat and rode him slowly, letting your pleasure build and build. The soft gripping you could feel turned to a clench that left your nipples hard. You took a few deep breaths, trying your best to talk, but you couldn't.
You came with him buried deep, so full you could only make a noise that had Skittles looking up at you from her bed as she cocked her head to the side. You were keening for Bradley, riding out your pleasure as he rubbed gentle circles on your hip and encouraged you. 
Once you started to slow, teeth chattering as you realized he was still hard, you looked at him and asked, "You didn't come yet?"
He shook his head dangerously slowly and handed you the phone again. The video had been recording for twenty seven minutes, and you gasped as he sat up with his cock still inside you. "I did not, Princess. What did I tell you earlier about my stamina?"
"Oh god," you gasped as one of his hands snaked around your body and inside the jacket to squeeze your breast. 
"Now," he whispered next to your ear, "get on all fours and I'll show you exactly what I mean."
You did as you were told, and Bradley pushed the jacket up higher on your back as he fucked you every bit as hard as he had in the kitchen earlier. Your face was buried in the bedding, and you weren't sure if you were even holding the phone correctly to catch it on video, but he was working you over good. And you took it with a smile on your face as Bradley lifted you away from the blanket with his hand wrapped gently around the front of your neck. 
"Be as loud as you want," he grunted. "Let the neighbors hear for all I care. I wanna hear it."
"Daddy!" you screeched for him as he filled you up with cum. "Daddy," you gasped, voice hoarse now as he let go of you. Slowly you eased your chest all the way down, but he plucked the phone out of your hand again. 
You heard him softly say, "Look at that. What a pretty mess," as he stroked your pussy and rear end which were still in the air for him. "What a gorgeous pussy."
"Bradley," you croaked, and he patted his wet cum against you before your phone ended up on the bed next to your face. You started giggling as he peeled his jacket off of you and collected you into his arms. "That was really fun."
You licked his sticky cum from his fingers as he looked at you in reverence. "That video is fucking filthy, and I love you with everything inside me." You giggled harder as he smiled and added, "I can't wait to watch it with you."
He helped you remove your plug and get cleaned up, and you were snuggled in under the blankets, eyelids getting heavy as Bradley slipped out of the bed. "Where are you going?"
"Give Skittles a little treat for being so good," he said, leaning down to kiss your forehead. You watched him walk across the room naked, his body tan and toned, his penis still impressive looking even when it was soft. 
"That dog is so spoiled," you mumbled as you rolled over and started to doze. 
"Yeah, well she's my best friend."
---------------------------
Bradley woke up later than normal based on the amount of light peeking in through the windows. He needed to pick Noah up from Penny's before noon which would require driving past your old place which he didn't even like to acknowledge any longer. He watched the way you had your hand resting on his abs as you slept on him, your tits pressed against his side. 
As soon as he started to shift around in bed, he heard Skittles jump up and start to shake her collar. She was the best wing-pup, helping him keep the ring hidden from you last night. He gave her a piece of a leftover meatball late after you fell asleep, and he promised her something special for breakfast, too. And now the ring box was on the top shelf in the closet where you couldn't reach it with his old gym bag in front of it. 
"Daddy," you whined softly when he tried to get up. You wrapped your arm tighter around him. "I'm still tired."
Bradley smirked. "You're a little worn out? From last night, Baby?"
"Yes," you moaned against his chest. "Is that what you want to hear, Bradley? You have excellent stamina, and I'm worn out."
He rolled you gently onto your back and braced himself above you. "Yeah. That's what I wanted to hear." He bent his elbows in a push up position and kissed your forehead, but your hand snaked down between his body and yours and stroked his soft cock. "Not too tired after all?"
"No, I am," you told him as you closed your eyes again, but you were smiling as you kept going. "But I can tell you're not."
Bradley grunted and let you keep going for a minute more before he said, "Then why don't you just lay there and let me do all the work?" He took your smaller hands in his, and you opened your eyes as he pressed your palms to the sides of your breasts. 
"Titty fuck?" you asked quietly, almost shyly. Sometimes it was easy to forget how young you were by how well you rocked his whole world and took care of everything, but he nodded and you bit your lip.
He made sure his voice was gentle even as he positioned himself. "You've never done it before?" 
"No," you confirmed, tilting your head forward to kiss his tip. "But I want to. As long as you do all the work," you told him with a laugh.
"Mmm," he hummed. "My Princess can just lay there and look pretty." He guided your hands so his cock was nestled nice and tight between your breasts, and he started to move. "Damn." 
"Does it feel good?" you asked, your voice lazy as your eyes stayed half lidded. 
"Yeah," he groaned. "Looks hot, too." You giggled softly which only turned him on more, and he pressed his cock down against your sternum with his thumb and fucked your tits a little faster. You kept changing the pressure with your hands, and he could feel his balls starting to tighten as they were treated to the softness of your skin. 
You looked pleased with yourself when after a few more minutes, he was staring down at your face and panting. He was thinking about painting your lips with his cum to make it look like your signature lip gloss. When you spoke, he changed course immediately. "Don't waste it, Daddy. Come in my pussy."
"Shit," he grunted, knowing your words were going to throw him over the edge. He moved quickly, bracing one hand next to your shoulder, easing his body lower on yours, and thrusting himself deep in one go. You squealed and squeezed your tits as he fucked your wet pussy with two more strokes, and then he was coming right where you wanted.
You propped yourself up on your elbows. "Good job."
Slowly, he withdrew himself, and watched his cum seep out of your hole. "I'm sure you're really proud of yourself," he whispered, gently easing your legs together and covering you up again. 
"I am," you whispered, rolling onto your side, full of the mess he made. He kissed your bare shoulder and the top of your back as you sighed. 
"I'm going to feed Skittles, and then I'll go pick up Noah from Penny's. You just relax."
He only got a nod in response, and soon you were sleeping again. With Skittles on his heels the whole time, Bradley got dressed and made his way to the kitchen. "Okay, relax," he told the pup, scooping her up into his big hand so she didn't have to walk across the patio stones to get to the grass when he opened the back door. She licked his face before he set her down, and then she followed him back inside, plopping down near the refrigerator as he turned on the coffee maker. "Spoiled," he mumbled, cutting up another meatball while his coffee brewed, and he dumped it into her bowl. 
He was hungry, but he wasn't going to wake you up again. Not after the night you let him have. He grunted as he poured his creamer into his Aviation is for the Birds mug and got a bowl down for some cereal. The air show was coming up on Saturday, and he was going to need to get himself ready for that. Before he forgot, he ordered a pair of headphones to protect Noah's ears along with some earplugs for you. 
"She thinks I can't use a smartphone," he mumbled to Skittles as she finished her breakfast. Bradley poured a second bowl of cereal and set a few calendar reminders with a smile, and then he finished his food and cleaned up the kitchen. When he peeked in the bedroom, only your head was visible above the bundled up blankets. He grabbed his wallet and keys and made his way out to get Noah.
When Bradley drove past your little rental house, he saw that your idiot landlord must have had a new tenant now. It was strange to see a different car there. It felt like years since he'd been inside with you and Noah, eating spaghetti and falling in love. When he pulled up to Penny's, he parked and headed to the front door. Loud music was playing, and after he knocked, he tried the knob and opened the door a bit. 
Penny, Amelia and Noah were having a dance party in the front room, so he let himself inside. When Noah saw him, he burst into tears. "I don't want to go home!"
Bradley couldn't help but laugh as Penny turned the music down. "This is the first time he's cried," she promised, scooping him up. "Are you just upset because we were having so much fun?" Noah nodded, and she added, "You can come back another day, I promise."
Amelia gave Noah a kiss on the cheek, and then she walked past Bradley and gave him a high five. "If you need me to babysit, let me know. I'm trying to save money before college starts in a year."
"Actually, I could use your help on Friday," he told her, and she paused on her way into the kitchen.
"What time?"
"Five?"
"Sure," she replied, taking out her phone.
"And one more thing," Bradley told her as he took Noah from Penny's arms. "I'm going to need you to go to a local college, because I don't have the energy to look for a third new babysitter."
She kind of smirked, and Bradley was reminded of the way you had tried to hide your lipstick marks on his white pants from her. Then Noah wrapped his arms around his neck and whined. "I want to stay here."
Bradley kissed his son's forehead and said, "But Mommy's at home, and she wants to see you."
"Okay," he mumbled. Honestly, he just looked tired. He'd had a long day at the beach followed by a fun sleepover. "Thanks, Penny."
"Anytime," she replied, stroking Noah's curls and waving as they walked out to the Bronco. 
"Should we stop and get some coffee for Mommy on the way home?" Bradley asked as he pulled away. 
"Yeah," he replied. "She likes it."
"She does," Bradley agreed. "And we like to make her happy." He grinned and had to adjust himself in his jeans as he thought about you all worn out and smiley in bed. Maybe you'd be in the mood for it nice and slow later. How he was possibly still ready for another round was shocking to him. 
At the coffee shop, the baristas all made a fuss over Noah, and Bradley let him put some cash in the tip cup. Then he borrowed a sharpie and wrote Princess on your cup and took it home to you. He and Noah found you in the kitchen making sandwiches for lunch, and you immediately stopped what you were doing to pick Noah up. 
"Did you have fun?" you asked, kissing him all over his face.
"We danced," he told you as Bradley set your coffee down. "And I learned a song called Shake Your Groove Thing."
"A classic," you replied with a laugh. "I'll add it to our playlist. I made you lunch." You deposited Noah in his seat, and Bradley watched you set the sandwich that had been cut up into smaller pieces in front of him. Once he started eating, Bradley backed you up against the counter. 
"I don't know what the hell you did to me," he whispered, kissing your ear. "But I'm really looking forward to Noah's bedtime tonight."
You picked up your coffee and took a sip, pressing yourself against the fly of his jeans. "This is really good today. Did you flirt with a barista?" you asked, ignoring his words as your fingers stroked his zipper. 
He grunted. "I told them my Princess only gets treated to the finest things," he whispered as he pressed himself to your palm before walking away to let Skittles outside again. He smiled as you laughed. "Oh, and I got Amelia secured for Friday night, so you and I can go on the hospital tour before the air show on Saturday."
You were all smiles as you said, "I should order some noise canceling headphones for Noah."
Bradley smirked. "I already did."
"Wow, Daddy! Did you use your phone all by yourself?"
"I knew you were going to say that."
--------------------------
Bradley slept like a log after he checked to make sure the engagement ring was still secure and then fucked you for a full hour. You were already tired. He knew you were, but he couldn't help himself. It was mostly just you and him having a sweet conversation while he was inside you. He held you in his arms and kissed you. The gentle roll of your hips kept him close to the edge for a long time, but he was able to hold himself off while you enjoyed two orgasms.
When he woke up for work on Monday, he got Noah ready and started getting cereal and fruit out for breakfast while you showered and dressed in your scrubs. "I need a day off," you mused when you walked into the kitchen.
"From work?" Bradley asked, frowning at you as he started up the coffee maker. 
"No," you said, kissing the top of Noah's head. "From you. Don't even ask later tonight."
Bradley was still smiling when he got to work after dropping Noah off. He sent you a dirty text that you'd probably see on your lunch break when he walked into the hangar. That's where he saw Nat with her hands on her hips talking to Javy, and Bradley could tell she was trying not to smile at him. They needed to make things official or stop fucking around once and for all. 
"Morning, Rooster," she called out without even looking at him.
"Did the two of you spend the whole weekend together?" he asked, earning two middle fingers from Nat and a very bashful look from Javy. He would take that as a yes.
As soon as Maverick called him to his Super Hornet, Bradley's phone started ringing. First Bank of San Diego. He ignored the call. It was probably spam since he didn't even have an account with them. As soon as he put the phone back in his pocket, it started ringing again. 
"What the fuck?" he muttered, ignoring the call a second time as he got his helmet on and made his way across the tarmac. He didn't have time to think about it at the moment as now both Maverick and Cyclone were watching him. He'd finally got himself back in Admiral Simpson's good graces, and he didn't want to fuck that up again.
He climbed the ladder up to his jet and silenced his phone to keep out the distractions. He flew with Nat who was extra aggressive, probably because he'd called her out about Javy which just made him laugh. When he checked his phone in the afternoon, he had nine missed calls, two of which were from Tracy's office. He called her back immediately, and when her receptionist answered, he put Bradley's call right through as an uneasy feeling settled in his stomach.
"Do you have a few minutes to talk?" she asked, and Bradley glanced around to find what seemed like every damn admiral on base out on the tarmac today.
"Not really, Tracy. What's going on?"
She sighed. "Can you stop by on your way home from work?" The way she answered his question with another question had him panicking.
"Is this about Meredith?" 
"Yes."
"Fuck! Yes, I can stop by on my way home."
Bradley's heart was pounding as he sent you a text essentially begging you to pick Noah up even though he promised you earlier that he could do it. He knew seeing Casey still grated on your nerves. And maybe he should have told you where he was going and who it was regarding, but he couldn't bring himself to make you worry about Meredith and Tracy right now. He was already doing enough of that for both of you.
Of course, Daddy. I'll pick him up. I love you.
-------------------------
Sorry this chapter was so horny. I probably won't change my ways for the next one. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 48
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cherrychilli · 9 months
Text
18+
AFAB reader, cockwarming
A/N: A thought just worked its way into my mind like a hungry raccoon rustling through a trash can. I wrote this out in a hurry and I don't know what triggered this but here you go. Hope you enjoy this lil blurb.
Thinking of Steve who wants a new picture of the two of you together to keep in his wallet and your heart warms at the suggestion, immediately heading off to grab your polaroid camera. When you return you find him seated on your bed, beckoning you to come sit in his lap. You hand him the camera because his arms are longer than yours, cozying up close to him for the picture with your hair tickling his jaw and your face tucked by his neck. He aims the camera towards your faces in his outstretched arm, snapping the picture. You both watch it develop, a cute snapshot of the two of you, all smiles and sunny faces.
"What do you think? good enough to replace the old one?", you fan yourself with the picture, watching him mull over your question. "It's great but I think we can do better", he hints slowly with a glint in his eye. You squint your eyes at him in a quiet warning, pretty certain of what he has in mind. "Stevie, you're not keeping a picture of my tits in your wallet. Especially not after what almost happened last time", you remind him flatly. He laughs sheepishly at the memory.
A month back, Eddie Munson had swiftly picked Steve's wallet out of his back pocket with the intention of feeding one of the latter's dollar bills into the vending machine in exchange for bag of Lay's. Steve only mustered a half hearted grumble in response before remembering the picture of you he kept in his wallet. Technically, you were clothed in the photo but what made it strictly for Steve's eyes only was that the little white strappy tank top you were dressed in was completely soaked, your tits showing through the translucent fabric clearly.
He had several questions aimed his way when he swatted the umber wallet out of Eddie's ringed fingers just a second before the darker haired boy had a chance to flip the folded leather open. Chiefly 'What the fuck, Harrington?', but Steve ignored them all in favor of collecting his wallet off the ground before pulling out a five and holding it out to Eddie in recompense. Walking away with four bags more than he would have afforded with the single dollar, Eddie didn't press any further for answers and the instance was considered forgotten. At least to him.
"No, I wasn't going to suggest that", Steve assured you. "But if I'm being completely honest, I do miss having one of your secret pictures", he confessed, fingers dancing along your thigh. You scoff lightly, rolling your eyes at him. "Steve, you have plenty in that box under your bed. I'd know, I'm the one who gave them to you".
He shakes his head. "What I mean is that I miss having one with me. You know? being able to look at it whenever I want and where ever I am".
"Oh...", you soften. Besides the close call with Eddie, you did like knowing how much your naughty snapshot had excited Steve, especially when you saw the way he glanced at it whenever he opened up his wallet to treat you.
"So I was thinking...what if we took one that looked innocent? one that only you and I really know about?", he suggested with a hopeful gaze.
Your face scrunched, unsure of how a picture like that might be taken. "How?"
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"Fuck fuck fuck", you chanted under your breath, knees feeling wobbly. "Almost there angel, you're doing so good", Steve kissed along your neck, breath fanning over your heated skin. His cock was a little more than half way inside you, stretching you open as you carefully sunk down until you reached his base. His fingers are still wet from scissoring inside you, smearing your waist with traces of your arousal as he curls the digits there under your dress. "Fuck, you feel amazing. You realize how hot this is?". You did. The way you're soaking his dick is evidence of that.
Seated in his lap with his cock sheathed completely inside you now, your head spun. Both from the fullness and the thought of no one else but the two of you knowing the truth about the picture you're about to take. Your dress conceals where you're both joined, your skirt spread out to further cover where Steve's jeans and boxers are pulled down around his mid thighs. He waits for your breath to steady before he picks up the camera, chin resting on your shoulder. "Ready, baby?", he coos gently, fingers rubbing soothingly at your waist. You swallow back a whimper when you feel him twitch inside you. "Yeah", you finally utter. "I'm ready".
"That's my good girl", he raises the camera once more, aiming it at your faces as you muster up a smile to match the one in your first picture.
"Just sit there and keep looking pretty for me"
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bedsyandco · 4 months
Text
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒
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𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who didn’t think he was going to love you as much as he does. You started as fwb and the more time you spent together, the harder he fell for you.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who keeps your relationship private but not a secret. He’s not afraid to post you on his instagram and does so quite regularly.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who goes through his comment section and deletes all the rude comments about you because he doesn’t want you to see them. He gives Trevor, Cole, Alex and his brothers his insta details so they can help him.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets so so happy to see you in the crowd wearing his jersey. Knowing you’re his #1 fan means the world to him.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who makes an effort to take you out on a date at least once a week because he knows the hockey schedule is brutal and he doesn’t want you to feel neglected.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who is terrified he’s going to mess up somehow or the hockey is going to become too much for you and you’ll leave him. He calls Quinn at least once a week and Quinn has to reassure him. This goes on for at least the first year of your relationship. After that he feels a bit more secure.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets so happy seeing you and his brothers interact that he’d happily sit and observe your interactions as long as he gets to touch you somehow.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 loves spoiling you and constantly buys you flowers and gifts despite you telling him not to.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves how you team up with his little brother in the summer against him and Quinn. You’re just as competitive as them.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who takes you home for the summer before you were official and everyone, especially his mom, could see how in love he was with you. After much prompting from his mom and his brothers he finally asked you to be his girlfriend out on the dock where his mom he set up a little picnic.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets jealous easily and appreciates the reassurance you give him when he needs it.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who thinks it’s hilarious that you get all pouty when you’re the one who’s jealous. He thinks it’s utterly ridiculous that you’d think he’d ever entertain anyone else when he has you.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who doesn’t hesitate for a second to drop the gloves when someone says something mean about you on the ice.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves how well you get along with his friends and thinks it’s hilarious that they start inviting you to hang out and not him. You get added to the group chat and the messages always reads “come hang out, we miss you. You can even bring Jack”
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who calls you before and after every game.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who randomly tells you he loves you because he needs to make sure you know.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who carries a ring in his pocket for about a year before finally asking you because he was nervous you’d say no.
nsfw headcanons
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who is very handsy all the time. His hands constantly wanders to places deemed a little inappropriate in public spaces. He especially gets handsy when they had a really good game and he’s high off the win and the team goes out to celebrate. Hands are on your ass 24/7
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who stares at you with so much lust in his eyes sometimes it makes you breathless. and it makes his brothers gag. He also stares at you with so much love in his eyes which also makes his brothers gag.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves buying you lingerie. especially red ones.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who can’t look at your freshly done nails and not think about them wrapped around his dick.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves fucking you from behind while you’re wearing his jersey. He’s the type of guy to take a picture and send it to your ex who’s been bothering you.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who loves cumming on you. On your face, ass, boobs. Just loves seeing you all messy for him.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who can both fuck you like a whore and a princess depending on the mood.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who is a little embarrassed by how easily you can get him on his knees
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who cannot control himself in the summer when you’re wearing bikinis and denim shorts and summer dresses. There’s always so much skin exposed and he loves marking you up. You’ve given up on trying to hide the marks.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets a little turned on when you get possessive of him. Kissing his neck with lipstick on, he won’t wipe it off, he’d wear it happily.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who calls you and you guys have phone sex on every road trip. He has a “spank bank” of videos and photos of you but it doesn’t compare to the real thing.
𝐁𝐅!𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 who gets the urge to go home and get you pregnant whenever he sees you interact with a child because you’re going to be such a good mom.
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dilfmade · 4 months
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↺ that southern drawl. old cowboy’s first time bottoming. hanky code. soundgasm link.
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“i’ve never seen a cowboy without his hat.” at that, there was a confused glint in the strangers eyes, before you gesture towards the rust colored hanky in his back pocket.
the left one, to your surprise. that can change.
he nods in understanding, sitting up straight and shifting to face you. “left ‘em home. old boy needs a break.” you chuckle, now taking a seat beside him as he pushes his glass to the side.
“what color is it?” a pause. “the hat.” there’s a belly laugh given before the answer. “brown.”
you make a noise, clicking your tongue, then taking the hat off your head and placing it atop his own. after situating it right, you take a good look at him for the first time that night, holding his chin. he lets you, staying still as if you commanded him to. your gaze alone was enough to make him silent.
he’s got a stubble, with the shine of a few gray strands, the same thing going for the grown-out hair on his head. you spot smiles lines, crows feet, some forehead wrinkles, all on tanned skin. your black leather cowboy hat brought it together.
his adams apple bobbed slightly, almost nervous as he’s never been observed like this before. he’s usually in your place. oddly enough, he doesn’t mind the switch. might even like it.
“you look better in black.” no, he loves it.
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time seemed to blur together as you both drank, and eventually he ended up desperately grinding against your jean clad thigh. his breathy grunts were muffled by your lips, thin flannel hardly shielding his back from the cool bathroom stall door he was pushed against.
you separate, earning a groan from him, but before he could complain anymore you unbuckle his belt. “you givin’ into me, cowboy?” your hand reaches back, slipping the hanky out of his back pocket. “this don’t mean nothin’ to you?” you laugh in his face, him completely ignoring you as his hips move faster. his panting started getting whiner, unashamed; his role was made obvious, why not go all out?
though, you had other plans. using that same bandana, you gag him, shoving the fabric between his wet lips. “don’t get too loud now, boy.” he gave a huff, borderline whine, through his nose, leaning his head back until it hit the door. once he was looking away, you unbutton his jeans, pulling them down to rest just under his ass.
you palm his ass, spreading him open while spitting on your hand. you rub your middle and ring finger against his hole, before one pushes inside. his hands grip at your shoulders, biting down and drooling onto the bandana. “look at that. not as tight as i thought you’d be, huh? you finger yourself, partner?” it almost feels like you’re taunting him, and it shouldn’t turn him on as much as it does.
your hat tilts and covers half of his face, and when you adjust it, you see how his eyes are locked onto your bulge— so close to his freed dick. his hips jut up, attempting to hump against you and get away from the finger in his ass. you show some mercy, pressing your cock onto his and playing with his tip. the texture of your pants felt rough rubbing along the underside of his dick, sucking in a breath as his legs twitch. one jolted, and you hook it onto your arm to get a better angle as you add another finger.
he couldn’t decide what to focus on, all he knew is that he wasn’t going to come until your dick was inside him. he had to be stubborn in some way, for the sake of his own dignity. his takes the hanky out of his mouth, hardly acknowledging the amount of drool collected in the cloth.
“come— c’mon, boss, if yer’ g’nna fuck me, then fuck me.” and how could you turn that down?
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planeteroticaaa · 1 month
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"I WEAR YOUR SPARKLE, YOU CALL ME YOUR MAMA. LET ME PUT ON A SHOW FOR YOU, DADDY."
series m.list! — ♱. erotica
content warnings ! : cheating husbands, vulgar language, reader manipulating(?)/seducing men, reader walking these men like dogs, sexual descriptions, manager is an asshole & threatens reader with sex (doesn’t happen), pet names: daddy, baby girl, ma, mamas, etcc, overexaggerated ideas of torture (also doesn’t happen) because again, sukuna is a bad man, drugs, alcohol, stripclub/stripper, “bandz a make her dance” (like literally), sukuna’s kinda mean, but when isn’t he?? summary ! : It was another night at Planet Erotica. You were trying to make some extra money for your upcoming rent payment only, tonight wasn't really your best night. At least, it wasn’t until you were booked for a private dance by a mysterious man. word count ! : 4300+
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You wore your signature sparkling, rhinestone littered red one piece halter lingerie set—the low neckline stopping a little below your belly button, the piece hugging you body, perfectly highlighting all your curves while the sides only covered enough to hide your nipples and made your breast sit up nice and pretty for the horny audience of men.
It left little to the imagination, though that’s what these men wanted, some going as far as to travel miles just to see you seductively run your hands up and down your body and teasingly bending over in front of them, the thong bottom tightly cupping your pussy whose essence they all wanted dripping down their chin or creaming all over their tiny dicks.
Your plump glossed lips puckering when you blew a kiss on your way out, or when you’d crawl on the stage floor up to the closest man and let him drag your bottom lip down with his thumb as he shoved a stack of bills in your boob. Anything to get a feel, right?
They weren’t able to take their eyes off you as you slowly twirled around the pole, flipped upside down with the back of your knee holding you up on the metal bar. Then when you’d let your arms fall back and switch to both hands on the pole, legs spread wide into a split. Or maybe you’d show off a bit—left leg close to your body while pushing against the pole, toes pointed and head back. It didn’t matter what you did, you always put them in a trance. A trance so deep they were willing to empty their pockets, risk their reputation, marriages, and everything else good they had going for them. Anything to catch a glimpse of “Scarlet”.
You smiled, blowing a kiss at the audience like you always did when your show was over and listening to the roars of the crowd. To say you didn't enjoy the idea of disgusting old men drooling and getting their dicks hard to the sight of you would be an understatement, however it was worth it seeing the money come in as being a waiter definitely didn't pay enough.
You picked up the cash, making sure not to leave a single bill on your way out and while it seemed like a lot in hand, you were rather disappointed once you started counting in the locker room. It wasn't necessarily bad, but you've had way better nights. You frowned, staring at the stack of bills in your hand and thinking over any possible way to make more. Maybe you can ask your boss if you could perform another show or entertain the married men? Because as much as you didn't like sitting on their laps, humping your pussy on their hard on while whispering filthy things into their ear, face in your tits as they moved their hands up and down your body, though never enough to actually place their dirty fingers anywhere near your cunt, you knew it was your second best option.
And so you went, many hungry eyes on your figure as you searched for tonight's plaything. You settled on a man who looked to be in his mid 40s. He had a wedding band visible adorning his left ring finger, an expensive black patterned suit and tie that made you guess he was coming right after work—probably told the wife and kids he'd be working a late shift like most slimy businessmen did.
He left the top 3 buttons of the white button up underneath the black blazer undone, showing the bush of hair he had covering his chest as he sat with his legs spread in the middle of the soft, black leather couch. His hair was thinning and he had a thick cigar between his lips, smoke blowing from his nose and open mouth as he talked to his colleagues. The rest of the men around him seemed just like him—rich, horny, and gullible and you could tell from the way they whistled and pointed their chins at you seeing you walk in their direction. You had your target, but fuck, did these guys make it easy.
"Hey boys, you enjoying yourselves?" you asked, hypnotizing them with the sway of your hips and seating yourself on your chosen guy's left leg. He quickly went from his leaned back spot on his phone, to sitting up, arms wrapped around your waist and pulling your body closer to his. He gazed up at you, smirking at you in a way that flashed all his gold teeth. A vile smirk that made your stomach churn—how could someone be so sickening?
You placed your hands on his shoulders and kicked your legs over his other leg, looking down at him from his spot against your breast. You watched as they circled around you, one even going as far as to sit close enough for your feet to be slightly touching him. "Hey sexy," the guy said, a hand now gripping your thigh.
"You looked so good up there," a guy standing behind the couch put his fingers under your chin to turn your head so that you could face him. He smiled at you, teeth stained by the tobacco he was chewing. It took you a bit when you first started to get used to the rather gross atmosphere clubs gave off because they definitely weren't like the movies and when your mind started to wander and notice every gross detail, the money became the only thing keeping you there.
You used to be unable to contain the faces you made when the men touched you with dirt under their nail or when they'd brag about how much better you were than their wife, but now you'd just cover your mouth and let out a short giggle and maybe playfully slap their arm after.
"You really think so? I feel like I could've done better," you looked up at the guy holding your chin big eyed, a pout forming on your lips. "Did those assholes up there not give you your money's worth, mhm?" he dragged this thumb across your bottom lip, watching you shake your head all doe eyed.
"Want daddy to take care of it?" the guy whose lap you were sitting on said to which you gave him your attention again and caressed his check, feeling the hair of his thick beard between your delicate fingers. "Please daddy, please take care of me," you laid your head on top of his, taking the same hand that caressed his cheek and dragging it down his chest. "Please make me feel better," you whispered, playing with the button of his shirt.
You watched him and the rest of the men around you search their pockets for their wallets and that was when you knew you had them. You let their rough hands grope your body, you let them run their credit cards dry on buying drinks for you that you didn't finish, but rather took sips of and poured it down their throats because the drunker they were, the more they ran to the ATM and came back with stacks in their hands to keep you with them longer. You let them put their noses in your neck, taking in your intoxicating scent as they left sloppy, wet kisses just below your neck, stuffing more bills inside your lingerie piece or into your open hand.
"Hey, want to make a hundred grand?" asked the guy beneath you in your ear, slurring his words with his hands gripping your waist to grind your clothed cunt on the tent in his dress pants. You let him drag his tongue and leave a trail of kisses from your collarbone up the behind your earlobe and as disgusting as his chapped lips felt against your skin, all you heard was him giving you the opportunity of a lifetime. "A hundred?" you repeated in a hushed voice.
"That's right, baby. And all you have to do is be a good girl for daddy," he whispered in your ear, his chest against the bare back as his fingertips faintly bushed against your clothed cunt. Oh...that's what he wanted.
Your manager hardly liked you doing what you were doing now, but sex with a customer? He'd be fucking livid—hell, he might even tell your boss. Though...then again, this was a hundred grand we were talking about. You bit your lip, contemplating what to do.
This man was absolutely vile—his hoarse voice in your ear, the stench of his breath his mint gum couldn't even suppress that was most likely the result of a lifelong supply of cigarettes, his dirty fingernails, his gold teeth. He was an unclean, unkempt man and his wedding band that shined in the dim lighting made your sick to your stomach as your mind filled with ideas of a beautiful wife at home taking care of a kid or two, clueless of the fact her husband wasn't working late like he said he would be.
You wanted to get up, take the bottle of beer he was drinking from, douse him over the head with it, and slap him right after. Though...you had bills that desperately needed to be paid and the money from before just wasn't going to cut it.
You turned your head to look him in the eyes and the smirk on his face plus the lust-filled look in his eyes told you all you needed to know. "I want fifty first and the rest after." "Make it twenty-five and you got yourself a deal," he said, his hand holding your chin to ensure your eyes don't wander elsewhere. "Thirty-five or nothing," you frowned and the man just chuckled.
"You make it so hard for me, baby girl," he whispered in your ear before cupping your pussy. You watched him take out his phone and go to his bank account, your heart racing at the idea that this could actually be happening. Hell, with thirty-five grand, you won't even need to fuck him. "How do you want me to send it?" he asked and before you could answer, you heard your manager calling out for you.
"Shit. . ." you cursed watching the pissed man walk up to you once he saw you. "Been looking for you for over half an hour and this is what you're doing?!" he said furious and all you could do was sigh, collect the stacks you were accumulating for the past hour and walk off.
"What I tell you about doing that shit?!" he shouted at you in a hushed voice, following alongside you as you left the group of men, not even looking back when the guy asked you if you'd be back. You didn't answer him, instead shutting him up inside the locker room when you split a stack in half and pushed it to his chest, shoving the rest in your black duffle bag.
"You were saying?" you crossed your arms over your chest, an eyebrow raised watching your manager try and count just how many twenties you handed him. There were many times you should've been fired for doing this, after all he was supposed to tell the boss anytime a rule was broken such as this one, though you always kept him quiet with money men gave you that were almost, if not, higher than his own monthly salary. It was either that, let yourself be fired, or offer up your body because he too was just as infatuated with you as the rest of them.
"This is less than what you normally give me," he frowned. "You say this after you just fucked my chance of thirty-five grand? Oh, you're lucky I gave you anything at all."
"And you're lucky I don't call the boss right now and have you fired or—" "Or have your way with me right here? I wish you would." The two of you glared at one another, the tension in the room thick as your hand gripped the pocket knife deep inside your duffle bag. With how dangerous Las Vegas was, you'd be stupid not to carry around anything for self defense. It wasn't called Sin City for no reason.
You watched him step back and sigh, folding the bills in half and shoving them in his back pocket. "You got a request for a dance," he sat down on the leather couch in the changing room. "That's what you're chasing me around for? I thought you said the boss stopped offering those," you sat down in one of the many makeup chairs, fixing yourself up.
"He did, but this isn't exactly someone you want to say no to." "Why?" you turned back, eyes slightly widening seeing the serious face your manager was making. "Because he'd probably sit and watch on some throne made of human bones as his minions skin me alive. Besides, the boss called and told me to approve it," he said, showing you his phone for proof which made you laugh.
"I'm serious Y/n! He's a very powerful man who could get away with whatever he pleases." "And what makes you think I'd want to give a lap dance to someone who—from the sound of it—would kill me if I didn't do it a certain way?" you asked, playing along with the bullshit spewing from his mouth. A throne of human bones? Torture? How many brain fucking drugs has this guy taken pervious years before you met him?
"He specifically requested you. I mean, who wouldn't?" he mumbled the last bit and you watched him look you up and down with red tinted eyes from whatever he was smoking all night. You spun back around in your chair, leaning forward to fix your lipliner and lipstick, rolling your eyes.
You stared at yourself in the mirror, seeing your manager walking up to you. His chest was against your bare back, leaning down to whisper directly into your ear despite you leaning your body to the side in an attempt to back away.
"He's offered me ten g's alone to ask you so whatever he's willing to give you for even going in there will be much more than that measly thirty-five thousand you were bitching about," he said, his words making you freeze. "That's absurd," you frowned, but were quickly convinced when he showed you the transaction in his bank account.
Your heart raced as you made your way to the private room and you started to take him a little more seriously seeing two tall, well built men in black suits and shades standing on either side of the door. Bodyguards to go to a strip club? Though maybe they were henchmen.
You reached your hand to knock on the door when one of them roughly grabbed your wrist, the other reaching his hand behind his back. Was he about to pull a gun on you? "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, gripping your wrist tight enough to potentially leave a bruise. "I was requested, you asshole! Now let go of me," you tried pulling your wrist back to no avail and before the guy could say anything, somebody opened the door.
"Hey, let her go or I'll break your wrist. You know he doesn't like to be kept waiting," someone said, playing a hand on the guy's wrist. You watched the man quickly unhand you, looking absolutely terrified of this person who was way smaller than him. They had white hair with a distinct thick reddish-pink line running horizontally across it. Their eyes were this pretty dark pink, adorned by long lashes, thin eyebrows furrowed from being visibly pissed off.
"Now apologize," they said, expression serious. "S-sorry ma'am! I didn't know you were her, I-I swear!" the man practically begged for your forgiveness, leaving you completely stunned. What the hell was going on?! "O-oh um...don't worry about it," you stammered, worried that if you weren't to forgive him something may happen to him.
"Thanks," you look at the person though they only smiled and nodded at you before letting you inside the room. On the velvet couch in the middle of the room sat a man. His head was leaned back, cigar hanging from his lips with his legs spread.
He had on a black suit jacket over a dark red, silk button shirt, the top 4 buttons undone revealing a bit of his hard chest, paired with black trousers and dress shoes. His strong jaw line, dark red eyes, and tattooed littered face was adorned by messy spiky light pink hair. He had a large, rather veiny hand on his lap, a hint of another tattoo on his wrist showing as his other arm was behind his head. You watched him tilt his head up, low intimidating eyes staring into your widened ones.
To be fair, you weren't expecting an attractive, tatted man who looked to be in his late 20s to early 30s effortlessly manspreading on the couch, a smirk now taking form on his lips upon seeing you that showed his pearly, and a bit pointy, white teeth.
He looked expensive—hell he smelled expensive. Though his presence almost made you feel...small. A menacing aura that made those around him scared that he might harm them in some way, but at the same time, something about him obviously made others respect him and his authority.
You assumed it had to be money from how nice his suit was or how rich his cologne smelled, but no, it must've been his status. But how high of a status did he have for your stubborn, rule abiding boss to give him special exceptions? Though maybe his looks had something to do with it too because as much as you didn't wish to admit it, you'd let this man do anything he wanted to you no matter how crazy it may be.
"Uraume, close the door on your way out," his deep voice rang through your ears and you watched them utter a "yes, of course" then exit the room. What was this? "Come, sit," he said, patting his lap to which you nodded and slowly walked over.
He took one last hit of his cigar before burning it out in the ashtray placed on the arm of the couch, smoke blowing in your face as his large hands went on your waist when your own hands held his shoulders to steady yourself, sitting with your legs on either side of him.
“No touching, it’s the rule for private dances,” you said, not noticing how fast your heart was racing upon looking into his dark red eyes. Truth be told, you couldn’t care less about any of the rules this club had, everyone knew that. However, this man’s touch left a lingering, hot sensation on your skin that you weren’t sure just how much more of it you could take.
He chuckled in amusement, but played along, his arms spread back behind the couch like before, looking you up and down while awaiting your next move though you remained frozen. “What’s wrong, Mamas?” he asked, an arrogant smirk on his face as he raised an eyebrow at you.
“N-nothing,” you stammered despite trying to keep your composure. None of the men out there, even the more attractive ones who came every now and then had the ability to make you as nervous as this one did and it shocked you to your core.
“Can I ask you a question?” he sat up a bit more from his slouch position, moving with such ease even with you on his lap. You hummed, the grip of your hands on his shoulders slightly tightening due to your nerves. “I watch you every night after your shows let even the filthiest of men touch you for your own benefit even though it’s never much and goes against the “code of conduct” I know you couldn’t care less for yet speak about,” he said, words making your eyes widen and your heart sink to the pits of your stomach.
The mysterious “bad man” basically just admitted to stalking you with a straight face and eye contact so intense, so intimidating that you felt helpless. Your eyes slowly darted around the room, though it didn’t last long before his left hard went from behind the couch to rather harshly grabbing your chin to keep your eyes in him.
“No touching. . .” you said, voice barely above a whisper, though he didn’t listen this time. “What makes you think I won’t benefit you more than those old fucks out there?” his eyes slightly narrowing at you when you didn’t answer, at a complete loss for words.
“One of my men overheard you making a deal with someone. What was it?” he asked, almost demanding an answer. You were so used to men being submissive towards you, falling to their knees just to kiss the tip of your feet that this guy’s dominant demeanor had your cunt dripping and pulsating from his words alone.
“Thirty-Five—” “That’s it?” He laughed loudly, that arrogant smirk coming right back when his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close to him, your chest against his. “I’ll give you three times that plus a tip if you quit acting like you abide by the rules and give me the ten thousand dollar dance I paid for.” he said, his voice now low with a hand rubbing up and down your bare back. Over a hundred grand without you having to get naked?
“Impossible,” you voiced exactly what you were thinking, frowning at the man before you. Though he didn’t say anything, instead directing your attention over to a black bag residing underneath the black wooden coffee table. “Mind if I see for myself?” you turned back to him, still in disbelief, but he just moved his arms back behind the couch, bouncing his right leg and your body along with it.
“Seriously? Show me some credit,” he scoffed, “dance for me. just one song and you can take the bag and go.” Really? That easy? To say you were skeptical would be an understatement, but still you stood up, flipped through to CD options for the vinyl, chose a sensual five minute song, and took a seat back on his lap.
With your hands back on his shoulders, you whined your body against him to the rhythm of the song, your hips grinding back and forth against his lap as your hands explored each hard bump on his strong chest and abs. He smirked, pulling another cigar from his pants pocket, placing it between his teeth, and lighting it before you.
With his lighter put away again, his hands went to grab your hips once your hands went behind you to hold onto his knees. He guided you in his hands, the friction of your clothed sexes bumping against one another causing him to occasionally grunt and grip you tighter while you bit down on your bottom lips.
“You’re so good at that, Ma. . .” he whispered, his eyes on your body against his. You didn’t verbally acknowledge his praise, but he knew it did something to you when you started showing off your best moves and touching him more than before. When his hands moved down to your ass, you pulled yourself up.
Your arms were now hanging behind him over the couch, your knees digging into the soft cushion when you lifted yourself up every now again to press your body against him. One of his strong arms wrapped around your figure to keep you pressed against while he kept a free hand squeezing your ass to which you gasped.
You stared down at him, lips parted and eyes darting around his face to take in each of his features—his chiseled jawline, his low, dark red eyes that continued to intimidate you, smoke blowing from his nose when he took one final hit before sitting it down for a minute, eyebrows slightly furrowed and lips forming a straight line as he studied you up close. His many dark tattoos, each lined and shaped with intent adorning his face made you wonder if he had any underneath his expensive suit.
Your heart continued to race and he could tell you were nervous from the way you absentmindedly nibbled on your lip. Though to be far, he put you in a trance much like how you did to the rest of the club with your shows. Something about him made you want to know everything there was to know about him. Where did he get his money from? What do the lines and symbols his tattoos create mean? Why does he have men at his every beck and call? Why did he watch you, call you specifically? What was his name?
“What’s your name?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. You were stunned by the suddenness of his question. Why does he care? As curious as you were about him, it was also clear he was a dangerous man so anything he knew about you needed to be minimalized. “Scarlet.”
“That’s your stripper name.” “I know.” “Why can’t you tell me your real name?” “You don’t seem like the type of guy I should entangle myself with.” “I’m not, but that didn’t stop you from coming in here did it?” “You threatened my boss.” He laughed at this, shrugging in response.
“And yet you probably want to know more about me, don’t you?” he asked and this time you shrugged in response. “Touché,” he smirked at you, grabbing his still lit cigar from the ashtray beside you, placing it between his lips and letting the smoke fill his lungs. He then placed it back down on the ashtray and harshly slapped your ass after.
He let out a satisfied hum when you gasped and smirked at you for the nth time that night, his pearly white teeth flashing at you. “Next time, it’ll be Sukuna requesting you and I expect you to come faster,” he said, his voice low, smoke blowing in your face with each word.
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“LIKE A DRUGGIE, LIKE I TOLD YOU. . . YAYO, YEAH YOU, YAYO.”
a/n: i hope you guys like this first chapter because after tumblr kicked me out mid reread, i gave up proofreading😁! — ♱. erotica
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incorrectbatfam · 1 year
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I need Damian roasting the fam like that John Mulaney quote about middle schoolers insulting you in an accurate way
Damian: The American Hackney is a critically endangered horse breed with only about 200 remaining in the world. I consider myself privileged to be in the company of one right now.
Stephanie, to herself: I can't hit a kid, I can't hit a kid, I can't—
———————
Damian: Your glasses look like the headlights of Superman's pickup truck.
Barbara: Get back to patrol.
———————
Damian: You astound me.
Tim: How so?
Damian: You have far exceeded your life expectancy given your absolutely atrocious self-care habits.
———————
Damian: Father, you cook like someone who's never seen food in his life.
———————
Damian: Grayson, I need your help with a history project.
Dick: Sure, what's it on?
Damian: The Paleolithic Era. Tell me everything you remember about your childhood.
———————
Duke: You say a lotta out-of-pocket things.
Damian: What, like the fact that the Signal-cycle sounds like a washing machine setting?
———————
Damian: Todd, I didn't know you were a Hollywood background character.
Jason: Really? Where?
Damian: *plays The Walking Dead*
———————
Damian: Cain—
Cassandra: Nope.
Damian: But—
Cassandra: I said no.
Damian: Fine.
Cassandra:
Damian:
Cassandra:
Damian: Your ballet shoes look like beans.
———————
Damian: Kyle, may I see your engagement ring?
Selina: Sure.
Selina: *shows him a big diamond*
Damian: *squints*
———————
Damian: *opens his mouth*
Alfred: Don't even try.
Damian: Understood, have a nice day.
———————
Damian, to his reflection: I never realized my hair looks like a shower brush.
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fusaes · 4 months
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— 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 ft. nanami kento ♡
SYPNOSIS. ''When I'm fucked up, that's the real me, yeah'' You had one too many shots, with the help of your dear friend, Gojo Satoru. You could thank him, too. He hooked you up with one of his friends, Nanami Kento. His fierce and cold attitude, it only made you shiver with fear, but it posed a challenge. How can you make this hell of a man crack? WORD COUNT. 3.7k words PAIRINGS. Nanami x Fem!Reader WARNINGS. semi public sex (bathroom), public teasing, gojo and reader are sluts, mentions of alcoholic drinks, fubu trope with gojo, spanking + slapping (reader receiving), drunk sex, p in v sex, no condom, pussy eating, lmk if there's more. (you're in for a ride) OTHER NOTES. hello hello, I'm back with our nationwide husband, nanami :) enjoy this one || header art credits: @/oretsuu on X, mdni banner by the lovely benkeibear < 3 !
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''Are we fucking when we leave the club, or nah?''
You could hear Gojo say from miles away, probably pestering another girl at the bar. You would be lying if you said you weren't looking for some dick, but he's just purely shameless at this point. The girl is sitting on his lap on a barstool, Gojo's tricky hands slipping under her dress. Vile, you thought.
It's not like you haven't experienced these things either, you weren't new to this ''City girl'' lifestyle. Sure, you've fucked around in a few bathrooms and storage rooms, but being out in public is just crazy. ''You have my number,'' the girl said, hopping off his lap. ''Give me a call, yeah?'' She walked away, an empty glass clasped in her hands.
Those cheap fake nails would fall off even before she gets a chance to touch Gojo's cock. You were Gojo's best friend, and vice versa. You let him meet your friends, and he lets you fuck around with his friends, too.
Some may say that it's a ''friends with benefits'' type of friendship, and it's true. You could fall for your best friend easily. But tonight, you're not out to look for true love. This time, you wanna forget.
You wanna forget about your problems, and once you enter the bright and erotic environment with beaming lights, you forget everything you know easily.
You walk up to Gojo, drinking up another shot. '''Toru.'' You say, taking the seat beside him. He drops his glass and removes his tinted shades just to take in your appearance. ''Hey, sugar. What'cha doing here?'' He didn't have to, but he recognized your voice even with his eyes closed.
''Nothing.'' You mutter, and he laughed at you. He didn't know exactly what you were doing here, but he knows you'll only end up doing the same thing over and over again. ''You wanna take home another man who can't last 15 seconds, darling?'' He beckons over the barista, asking to fill his glass.
''I'm right here, doll.'' Satoru teases, his hand landing on your thigh. ''I'm not one of your girls, 'Toru.'' You say, but letting his hand rest on your skin, his rings and bracelets indenting a cold feeling. ''Whatever, your loss.'' He jokes as the barista comes back with his glass filled.
Your hands grab it before he gets the chance to even smell it, and down it immediately. Gojo smiles at you and shoos away the barista. ''Someone's pretty sad tonight.''
He grabs his phone out of his pocket, the brightness of his phone lighting up his ocean eyes. Not gonna lie, if you aren't careful enough, you could actually fall for this man. ''And I know exactly what'll cheer 'ya up,'' Satoru says, his smile growing as a text conversation appears on his phone.
You roll your eyes, not really getting what he meant. But whatever it is, you knew Gojo knew the best for you.
Suddenly, Gojo rose up from his seat and took your hand. ''Alright let's go.'' He said, and you frowned. ''What the hell? I haven't even spent an hour yet!'' You tried fighting his grip on your hand but you couldn't. In the end, you gave up with your heels clacking on the floor
Satoru's eyes scanned the room, looking like he was looking for someone. ''What are you doing?'' You ask, curiously looking for no one in the crowd.
''Has anyone caught your eye?'' Gojo asks, his hands reaching down his pocket to put his black shades back on. Your eyes sweep the floor, looking for a meal tonight. You never find someone interesting just from one look. You didn't believe in love at first sight or cupid, but the lonesome man in the corner on his phone, drinking whisky- there, that's the one you want.
You didn't like boys who were younger than you, from your experience, they all seemed like amateurs. But, when it comes to a man who knew how to work a girl, hits differently. There's just something about this man, something so chilly that made you wanna break it.
''Blondie over there, that's mine.'' You say, smirking at Satoru who looks overjoyed. You were confused, it's as if he was hoping you would choose him, but whatever. Gojo knew your taste, and you were happy.
''Good girl.'' He says suddenly, and he walks over to the solitary man.
After a few minutes of walking through sweaty and smelly bodies in the pit of people on the dance floor, you make it to the 3rd bar of the club, where Mr. Hottie is sitting at.
''Nanamin! You made it.'' You froze. This fucker knew him all along? ''Gojo. What's this 'emergency' you were speaking of? And, it's Nanami.'' Fuck. His voice. You were melting from his chiseled face, big biceps, and the way he dressed, God he had you gobsmacked. You blink and step up to him.
''Y/N, Nice to meet you.'' You smile at him, his eyes trail over to your face, and down to your feet. You were never one to be embarrassed to wear whatever you wanted, but his eyes made you shiver from nervousness immediately. Just my fucking type, you thought.
He offers his hand, decorated with a watch. You accept his hand, feeling his rough skin on yours. You sneakily check his fingers, empty. You celebrated a little in your head and shook his hand, thank God you won't have to deal with another scandal.
''Nanami, you probably heard.'' You giggle a little and Gojo was already sitting on Nanami's left side, as you take the empty seat on his right. You try to stir up a conversation, ''Yeah, what 'emergency' were you on about, 'Toru?'' Nanami's eyebrows curved at the nickname.
''You would've come here nonetheless, Nanamin.'' Gojo joked as he asked the barista for a drink. ''False. I wouldn't have come here if you didn't disturb me from my work,'' Nanami raises two fingers as a signal to the barista for two. ''Oh? What work, Nanami?'' Nanami only stared at you, dissecting everything your body could offer.
You leaned back in your seat, giving him a good view, swinging your leg over the other. ''I'd prefer you call me Kento,'' Gojo smirked, his plan going smoothly but carefully.
It didn't take a while for girls to start crowding around Satoru, girls with their tits almost spilling out their dresses. You scoff, but Nanami paid it no attention. He's used to it, huh? You thought. Maybe you should hang around Gojo more, so you would be more unphased by bullshit.
''I better be going, I'll leave you two.'' The ''heartthrob'' sat up from his seat and entertained the mob of girls. ''Your drink?'' Nanami asks. ''Those are for you two. On me.'' Gojo finally left and you smiled to yourself. ''He won't ever change, huh?'' You pop a joke, taking a sip from your beverage.
''Now that he's gone, I hope he never does. Even though I wouldn't admit it myself.'' Nanami didn't drink whatever Satoru told the barista. Instead, he took the decorative flower from the side of the cup and twirled the stem of it in between his fingers.
''You seem young. What are you doing hanging around a man like him?'' You were flattered, honestly. A lot of people have told you that you looked like you were in your early 20s. In truth, you weren't that far from Gojo's age.
''Why thank you.'' You smile at him, taking another drink. ''Well, be it no surprise, I'm almost the same age as the lunatic over there.'' Your eyes point in Satoru's direction, where a girl is bent over in front of him, while others are feeling him up. You earned a small chuckle from the man in front of you.
All you really wanted was to get fucked dumb by Mr.Hulk over here. But, you knew he wasn't a sex-crazed boy who would fuck any loose hole he could fit his cock in.
''You didn't answer my question, Kento.'' You say, finally setting down your drink to give him your full attention. ''I work at the same place as your best friend does,'' Nanami answered, but you needed details.
You can't just survey a man you just met. 'Where do you live? Do you have a girlfriend? How many exes do you have? Are you a virgin?' No, that's weird.
An idea emerged in your head, a classic. ''Hey, let's play a game.'' His expression didn't change, but his body faced towards you, seeming intrigued. ''Two truths and one lie. You have to take a shot for every guess you get wrong.'' ''Simple enough.'' He added.
''I'll start then.'' You say, taking a shot glass from the stand, filling it up with Bacardi, and passing it to him. ''Alright. I work at a hospital. I hate going out. I enjoy clothes designing.'' You say, staring at his face while trying to figure you out, like a puzzle.
You purposely smiled at him, confusing him further. But, he doesn't budge, he looks like he's got you all figured out. ''Well, the lie was that you hated going out, is that right?'' You put your hands together to clap for him, even though you went easy on him.
''You work at a hospital?'' Nanami asked, seeming genuinely curious, and you understand. Who would've thought a nurse in the day would become a party hopper every night.
''Yeah. Surprisingly enough.'' You took the shot as a penalty for failing to trick him. ''That's amazing.'' You were happy he acknowledged your hard work, but now it's his turn.
You weren't gonna lie, your eyes were turning a little blurry and your head was starting to spin. You put your head in your hands as you await his answer. ''I was once a salaryman. I hate bread. I love mentoring students.'' You were thinking.
Not about his question, of course.
''The lie was that you were once a salaryman?'' You ask, confused. Trying to read his expression, you find nothing. Not a muscle- even an inch moved. ''The lie was that I hated bread.'' He said, skillfully flicking the glass to you with his index finger.
''I was a salaryman, but I changed paths.'' You drank the liquid, quite numb to the burning sensation you would feel in your throat. ''I left my original job to be a salaryman, but came back soon after I-'' ''My turn.'' You interrupt.
This was going too slow, and you were getting bored. You needed him right now, and this kid's game isn't helping you to get used like a toy by him.
You originally had planned to know more about him, but the alcohol is taking over your sentiece and is talking for you. Nanami's mouth curved into a small smile, almost invisible to the naked eye. ''I was fired at my old job, I'm a virgin...
And I want you right now.''
You look at him through your lashes, awaiting his next move. He didn't seem surprised at all, despite the bomb you had just dropped on him right now. The salaryman's smile only grew wider at your divulgence. ''You better be careful,'' Nanami said, pouring more into your glass.
''Don't start something you can't finish.'' He adds.
You grow curious. ''What are you suggesting, sir?'' You play innocent, drawing circles with your wrist with your glass in hand, swirling the alcohol around. Nanami's eyebrows raise, the sudden change of demeanor catching him off guard.
''Curiosity kills the cat.'' You pout at his words. You didn't expect him to be this dead to the world, unless...
He knows your tricks and he's playing with you. Damn. You curse in your head.
You're starting to get tired of this. You were willing to settle for a man who could only last 15 seconds- just to get rid of this stupid feeling. You weren't an animal in heat that just went to clubs and get rammed by random dudes, but this was boring you.
Who were you to blame? You were getting played at your own game. Someone could come over and crown you as ''The sore loser of the night''.
You drank the last stein, and picked up your purse. ''Game's over.'' You set the empty glass on the table and adjusted your skirt down to your mid-thigh, preparing to leave and go fuck around somewhere else.
This is another reason you didn't believe in cupid. Especially when the son of a bitch is Gojo Satoru. You kinda wish you had his bow so you could pierce an arrow through his skull, maybe then would he have good ideas.
You attempt to step away, but got pulled back into your seat. ''I haven't made my guess yet, you princess.''
Did his voice get deeper or are you getting fucked in the head?
Even though you didn't like getting pushed around and doing shit you didn't want to, the way his hand just swallows your wrist and the veins- God the veins.
''Are you listening?'' Nanami gave you a chuckle. Was he making fun of you? ''You're making this too easy for me, sweetheart.'' He says, his hand letting go of your wrist, trailing to the necklace you had wrapped around your neck, and starting playing with the cold metal.
''Easy? How?'' Your eyes narrow, first he was laughing at you, and he's basically saying you gave the answer away.
Well, you did. That was a last-ditch effort to get this man to crack, but it didn't work. So fuck that. ''Your thighs are shaking.'' You didn't even notice his free hand on your tights, caging your thigh in his large hands.
''J-Just get this over with.'' It's the alcohol, you swear. It's not the effect this man had on you. ''The lie was that you're a virgin.'' His other hand let go of your necklace and seized your throat as his now occupied hand took the filled glass.
''Open up, sweetheart.'' His finger pulled your lower lip down, beckoning you to open up your mouth. You oblige, as he poured the liquid into your mouth, the hand on your neck massaging the sides of your throat. ''Good fucking girl.''
You close your eyes, trying to feel if all of this was real. The moment the alcohol stopped dripping into your mouth, you open them, seeing Nanami slightly smirking at your appearance.
Some of it spilled down your chin and onto his hands, but when you tried to wipe it off, he swatted your hand away. ''Lick it off.'' He said, offering his dirty hand to you, facing it towards your needy mouth.
You didn't hesitate, but your hands slowly took his, and licked the excess off of his hands, making sure to clean it up nicely. Nanami let out a low grunt, feeling your hot tongue on the surface of his hand.
''Fuck, let's go.'' Nanami pulled out a few dollars out of his pocket, which looked like a 20 bill. He slid it to the barista and she gave him a quick nod as a sign of thank you. You smirked, the action only adding to your arousal.
Nanami led you to an empty stall in the bathroom, pushing you against the wall of the cubicle, your leg wrapping around his waist. Your hands tangle in his hair at the back of his head, pulling him into you.
You kissed him passionately, as your free hand made work into unbuttoning his dress shirt, feeling his hard abs over the fabric. You could almost moan, and you haven't even touched him fully yet. His tongue was dominating yours, fully tasting everything your mouth had to offer.
His hand trailed to your ass, giving it a hard squeeze and landing a small spank. You squeal into his mouth, while he smiled into your mouth, enjoying your sounds more than he expected. His fingers slip under your skirt, pulling down your tights and feeling your wet heat over the cotton of your panties.
''N-Nanami-'' You fail to speak, his mouth not letting you mutter any other words. His fingers hook under your underwear and move them to the side. His thumb toying with your needy clit.
You moan into his mouth, back arching. Your hand unzips his slacks, not even caring to take off his belt. Your hands find the opening of his boxers, and let his cock spring free.
Nanami let out a grunt, as you started to palm his dick. He finally pulls away from your swollen lips, admiring the work he did. ''Beautiful.'' He said, unbuttoning your shirt, exposing your cleavage. His hand grabbed your tit and let it spill out of your bra and shirt.
You turn your head away from his stare, but his hand quickly grabs your chin and places your head back to its original position.
''Look at me while I make this needy pussy feel good, baby.''
Nanami kneeled in front of you, placing your leg on his shoulder, while the other was still on the floor as his hand hooked around it, keeping you glued into your place.
His free hand pulled your panties down with your tights, fully exposing your wet pussy to him. His mouth almost watered at the sight, and buried his face in between your thighs, lapping up your essence with his tongue. Your hand covers your mouth, a weak attempt to not let any sound escape.
Nanami's mouth was busy, but his other hand wasn't. His hand unlaced his tie with one motion, the sight of his hands making you clench over nothing. You swore you felt him smirk against your pussy. His eyes looked up to you while he offered the tie to you, and you knew exactly what he wanted you to do.
You put the tie in your mouth, while his teeth lightly bit your clit, making you jerk in response. The slight twinge of pain and pleasure drove you fucking crazy.
His fingers entered your cunt, curling into the spot that made you mad. You bit down on the tie, trying to hold in your noise. You grinded into his fingers, needing and begging for more. ''More...'' Even though he probably didn't understand it, the more your moans grew louder, he knew you became more and more desperate.
His cock was leaking precum, already wanting to replace his fingers inside of you. Your hands tangled into his hair, pulling him closer to your cunt, while his mouth worked magic into sucking your clit in between his teeth.
You were gonna cum, fuck you were gonna cum. ''Gonna- mm- cum 'fo me, princess?'' He asked you, while his mouth was still busy with sucking up all of your juices. You nod for him, your climax edging closer and closer.
''Cum- fuck, cum for me, let me see how pretty you get when I make you feel like you're in the heavens.''
Your eyes roll to the back of your head, as his fingers curl one last time, your orgasm hitting you like a bus. Your thighs were already shaking, and you almost collapsed as you released all over Nanami's face.
His eyes didn't leave your face, firmly observing the way your face turns into when you cum. He didn't waste a drop, as his tongue licked all of what you gave him.
He took your trembling thigh off of his shoulder and wrapped both around his waist, pushing you up into the wall. ''Fuck, look at what you do to me.'' His cock was throbbing, rubbing himself in your pooling heat.
''Hurry up...'' Your words came out as a whisper, but he stopped, his dick resting on top of your pussy. ''Don't tell me...'' He took his cock in his hands and aligned it to your entrance, collecting your juices on the tip. ''What...'' He pushes himself in,'' To..'' deeper, ''Do.'' and deeper.
Your moan gets trapped by his tie, while your nails are digging into the muscle on his back. He groans at the crescents growing on his skin, surely going to bleed.
His hips roll like a pornstar, while his hands grope your ass. ''Kento!'' Your words were almost inaudible, as he thrusted faster into you. Your hands took the tie out of your mouth and pulled him into a kiss.
You could taste yourself on his tongue, while he ravaged you completely. Everything was moving so fast. It felt like you were just sitting across the man making you see stars right now. The previous headache you got from the alcohol dissipated immediately.
''C-Cum-'' Was the only thing you could manage to let out, as his tongue entangled with yours. His hands landed another spank on your ass, for sure going to leave a handprint.
Suddenly, Nanami pulls away and stops his hips. You frown at his action.
His hand which was on your ass, moved to your face, landing a slap on your cheek. ''Who's been a good girl?'' Slap. You didn't answer at first, the pain stinging on your cheek.
''Answer.'' Slap. ''Me!'' You answer quickly. Slap. ''Who's the prettiest girl in this building?'' Slap. ''M-Me.'' Your cheek must be red already, the heavy but restrained slaps turning you on but than you expect.
''And who's gonna cum tonight?'' Slap. ''Me...'' You say, as he kissed your red cheek as a reward, and snapped his hips into you, his length reaching deeper in your hot cunny. Your eyes close, feeling your climax inch closer and closer.
Nanami kisses your neck, leaving bites and sucking hickies. ''Fuck, 'M cumming.'' Nanami buries his face into your neck, savoring your scent.
His hips stutter, hesitating whether he is going to release inside of you or pull out, but your legs wrap around his waist, caging him in. Your mind was melting, the lingering smell of his cologne only made you dizzier.
He squeezed your ass, emptying his load inside of your tight cunt, drowning it in white. He raises his head from your neck, eyeing the mess on your face. Smudged mascara, messy lipstick, your hair almost messy- but it looked perfect to him. It was a sight that deserved to be plastered onto his bedroom ceiling.
Your hands run in his scalp, brushing all of the hair stuck on his forehead away. His lips crashed onto yours, but you heard a knock on the stall.
''Ya done? The club's closed, lovebirds.'' Gojo said.
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wowow feels good to b back!!! i love taking on big projects like this so i can get back ti writing. anyways, love you. take care ... ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2023 do not copy
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