#think about have a baby together and i think they take the stance of if it happens we have another member of our family

[adelaidedrubman]

problem with writing hook, line, and sinker is it should be just a silly little romp in trope fic with a very short and basic plot but john and jessie won’t stop being inventing ways to be horrible to each other despite being in an alliance for once

#im like oh things should basically be set over a couple months and a few major public events they have to attend together. #then i’m like what if at the rye’s baby shower john tried to steal attention by making a fake pregnancy announcement w/o consulting jessie #then jessie raises her hand like ‘‘i would like to try to kiss kim after she takes time from her own baby shower #to pull me aside and warn me about what a piece of shit john is.’’ #then they both get rejected by the ryes #then jessie announces she’s flushing but john is being SO supportive bc she can trap him into a public stance too #i just think it would be fun. #pregnancy mention

[theemporium]

[3.1k] it was a placebo effect. you were so sure of it. but a deal with your boyfriend makes you rethink your stance on the aphrodisiac-laced chocolate. (smut)

.

“I don’t buy it.” 

Eddie raised his brows, something quite like a smirk on his lips. “No?”

“Not for a second,” you said with a shake of your head. “It’s all a placebo effect.” 

“A placebo effect,” he repeated, thoroughly amused as he shifted back against his seat, his attention now purely focused on you. “I don’t think you can call drugs a placebo effect.” 

“It’s not drugs though,” you pointed out to him. “At least not any of the fun ones. It’s an aphrodisiac, also known as the coward’s drug.” 

This time Eddie snorted. 

“The dude supplying you is fucking with you, Eddie, you’ve been ripped off,” you said, sniffling a little as you took in the array of drugs lined up on the coffee table like it was an average Tuesday. 

Well, because for the two of you, it was an average Tuesday. 

“He said he’s tried it himself,” Eddie countered, his eyes watching you closely before he reached for what looked like—to the untrained eye—as a simple bar of chocolate. “Went as far as saying it worked wonders.” 

Your brows furrowed together in response. “I still don’t buy it.” 

The first Tuesday of the month was the same for Eddie. He would drive over a couple of towns, to a town that was much bigger than Hawkins. It would be a day trip, he would leave early in the morning after pressing a kiss to the top of your head before shoving his mouth with some toast as he walked out the trailer. He would get back an hour or so before dinner, utilising the coffee counter whilst you whipped something up for the two of you. It would take him an hour or so to get through everything and sort out his inventory, then he would be all yours for the rest of the night. 

No drugs. No distractions. Just you and him and whatever crappy movie he picked up from Family Video on the way back home.

Except, this Tuesday was a little different when Eddie barrelled through the door with a massive grin split across his face, already rambling about some new product his supplied had given him a few testers on. 

Hence, leading to the two of you staring at the somewhat disappointing chocolate bar.

“You’re being cynical,” he commented.

“I’m being realistic,” you retorted as you leaned over, plucking the bar between your fingers. There was no writing on the packaging, not a single word. It was just a simple black wrapper with a love heart plastered in the middle. You snorted at the sight. “Baby, you can’t seriously think this works?” 

Eddie only shrugged in response. 

You rolled your eyes, throwing the chocolate bar back down on the table. “You are too trusting in stupid shit.” 

“Hey, it’s never stopped that stupid shit being true in the past,” Eddie countered. “No one thought demogorgons were gonna be real now, did they?”

You gave him a pointed look. “Fair but—”

“Take it with me.”

You paused, your words faltering as you stared at him suspiciously. “What?”

“Take it with me,” he said as he reached for the bar of chocolate, waving it in a teasing manner. “If you’re so sure it’s a load of shit, then there is no harm in trying it, right? Worst case scenario, we enjoy a bit of chocolate and go about our lives knowing you were unfortunately right.”

Your lips twitched. “And best case scenario?” 

Eddie’s grin widened, boyish and cheeky and full of promises that made your thighs clench together. “We fuck like bunnies until the sun rises tomorrow morning.”

You snorted. “You have a way with words, Munson.”

But Eddie just extended the bar towards you. “First one to touch the other loses?” 

Your eyes narrowed on the bar, knowing very well that your boyfriend was baiting you. He was testing that competitive streak in you, that he was just goading you, tricking you. You knew that and yet, you still fell for it.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, Munson.”

“That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart.” 

The first hour passed and you didn’t feel any different. You could have laughed at how blatantly stupid the whole scenario was. The chocolate didn’t taste any different to a bar you could buy at the store, maybe a little bitter but you just assumed it was dark chocolate and moved on. 

You made your way into the kitchen, deciding to finish up dinner whilst Eddie sorted out the last of his inventory before you both found yourself settled on the small couch, plates of pasta in your hands as the movie Eddie picked played on the television.

On separate sides of the couch, of course. 

There was something like a smug smirk on your lips as you happily ate your dinner, a rush of adrenaline coursing through you because you knew you were right. It was a load of shit, just some dumb trick to fool people into spending whatever obscene amount dealers could charge them for ‘sex chocolate’. 

It was around thirty minutes into the second hour when you started to feel hot. 

Not flushed. Not warm.

Hot. 

Your body felt hot, like it was burning up. It was uncomfortable, but not in the way you expected. It wasn’t the kind of heat you felt when you stayed out in the sun for too long and your skin started to feel prickly. It wasn’t the heat when it was stuffy and muggy and the air clung onto you like a second skin. 

It was the kind of heat when Eddie would whisper something filthy in your ear when you were out, when his voice was a little raspy and strands of his hair tickled your neck as he told you every single dirty, little thing he wanted to do to you before walking away like nothing happened.

It was the kind of heat when his chest was pressed against your back, his hands running over every inch of your body as he slowly slid his cock inside you, letting you feel every inch until you swore you could feel him in the back of your throat.

It was the kind of heat that had you begging to feel every inch of him pressed against you, but even then it wasn’t enough. 

You wanted to ignore it. You tried to ignore it.

But it only led to you being painfully observant of everything around you. 

The inches that separated you and Eddie on the couch, a distance that wasn’t all that big considering it was a small couch, but now felt like an ocean between you. You wanted it gone. You wanted to crawl over and settle yourself into his side, to just feel his body against yours.

The way his hand wrapped around the beer can, the clinking of his rings against the metal can. You could see the drops of condensation rolling down the can, you knew it was just out of the fridge and it would leave his hands and rings just cold enough to make you shiver if he touched your heated skin. You wanted to feel him.

The way his tongue darted out, wetting his lips every few minutes as his eyes remained focused on the screen. The way he would tug his bottom lip between his teeth, lightly biting down when the movie got too intense. You wanted to be the one to bite his lip, to hear that little groan he would let out when you’d suck it between your lips. 

You fucking wanted him more than you had ever wanted him in your life. And as stupid and dramatic as it sounded, you thought you were going to end up burning a hole through the couch if he didn’t touch you soon.

“You’re drooling a little, baby.” 

You blinked, snapping out of your spiralling thoughts to find your boyfriend grinning at you, this time looking as smug as you did less than an hour ago. You cleared your throat, turning your gaze to the television as you pretended to understand whatever was happening on the screen.

“What were you thinking about?” Eddie continued to push, a shit-eating grin on his face as he watched you squirm in your seat. 

“Taxes,” you stated bluntly.

He huffed out a laugh, his eyes falling down to your thighs as you clenched them together. “Didn’t realise taxes got you so worked up.”

“I find them riveting,” you continued.

“Really,” Eddie mused, stretching his arm across the back of the couch. It wasn’t close enough to touch you, but enough for you to be heavily aware of the ringed fingers a few mere inches away from you. “Nothing else is making you squirm?”

You instantly froze. “I’m not squirming.”

“You haven’t been able to sit still for the last twenty minutes, baby,” Eddie commented, his voice a little rougher as he spoke. “Bet you’re fucking soaked.

You stayed silent.

“You gonna admit it, sweetheart? Gonna admit you’re all worked up?” His words were like a phantom touch across your body. “Just sitting there, thinking how nice it would be just just feel my hand slide between your legs and touch your—”

“I’m actually fine,” you bit out, a little more high-pitched than you would have liked. “But it seems like you’re having some issues over there.”

“Baby, I’ve been as hard as a fucking rock since I came back home,” Eddie snorted as he eyed the shirt of his you had been prancing around in all day. “Don’t need some chocolate to make me wanna fuck you, but it’s definitely helping.”

Almost instinctively you glanced over, your eyes falling to his lap to see if he was telling the truth.

He was, and you almost instantly regretted looking.

He had changed into some sweatpants, and guessing by the tent in his trousers, it didn’t take a genius to figure out he wasn’t wearing boxers either. You could feel the coil in your stomach tightened as you stared at his bulge, imagining what it would feel like to just reach out. To wrap your hand around the length of him and listen to the way he would shatter under your touch before you wrapped your lips around his cock and—

“You’re drooling again, baby.”

Your eyes instantly snapped away again, your cheeks flushed and heated as you tried to focus on the movie again. But you didn’t know what was happening, you didn’t even know what the name of the movie was. All you could think about was Eddie’s cock. 

“Shit.”

Your head snapped around to look at him again when he let out a low groan, his head leaning back against the couch as he palmed the length of his cock over his sweatpants. Your lips parted, watching the way he twitched under the fabric.

“What…what are you doing?” 

His head turned to look at you, a lazy smile on his face. “Never said anything about not touching ourselves,” he pointed out, squeezing his cock and letting out a pathetic noise. “Ah, fuck.”

Your mouth ran dry as you watched him. He was far more captivating to watch than the crappy movie, the way his chest heaved up and down with soft pants as he tried not to buck his hips. He was so fucking pretty and he was all yours, and you didn’t give two shits about the bet or anything else.

You wanted him and you were going to have him.

Eddie barely blinked before you were on top of him, straddling his waist as your hands reached for his face. His lips parted in surprise, a noise of surprise leaving his lips as his hands instantly moved to your hips, holding and clinging onto you like he had been wanting to do for the last two hours. 

“Baby—”

“Shut up,” you grumbled against his lips before you kissed him. 

It wasn’t a sweet kiss. It wasn’t sweet or loving or full of affection. It was sloppy and messy and desperate. It was needy and pathetic and it wasn’t doing enough to damper the heat that settled over your whole body since you ate that damn chocolate bar. You wanted more. You needed more. 

“Knew you’d give in,” Eddie murmured between shared kisses, groaning when you nipped his lip a little too hard. “Knew you’d be eating your own words.”

“Yes, whatever,” you snapped before pulling back, taking in his flushed cheeks and smug expression. “And now, I want you to fuck me, Munson. So, shut up and fuck me.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he grinned as his hands dropped to your legs, squeezing the fat of your thighs as he moved like he was getting ready to stand up, but your hand on his chest stopped him.

“No,” you whined, your words a little breathier than you realised. “Here. Need you to fuck me here, Eddie.”

“Here?” he cooed, a tinge of mockery twisted in his words and it just made you squirm on his lap. “My pretty girl that needy for me? You don’t even wanna go to the bedroom?”

“Eddie,” you choked out, wiggling on his lap until you felt his bulge brushing against the cotton fabric of your panties. “Shit, please.”

“Shhh, baby, I got you,” he murmured as his hand rested on your throat, his thumb brushing against your beating pulse. “Gonna give you everything you need.”

You were too impatient to pause even for a second, let alone long enough to strip out of your clothes. But Eddie was no better. Despite the patronising words and soft touches, he was fucking desperate to be inside of you. He had been desperate and regretting his words the second the deal left his lips, he was just glad you finally gave in. 

His sweatpants were pushed down enough for his cock to spring free, red and leaking and desperate to be inside of you. You hadn’t even lifted yourself off his lap to take off your panties, just pushing them to the side as you swiped the tip of his dick along your soaking folds before you finally sunk down on him.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck—”

Your head fell to his shoulder, a muffled sob let out as you felt each inch of him slide inside you. His fingers were gripping the cheeks of your ass, squeezing and digging into your skin as he tried to hold back, as he tried to think about everything except the fact he wanted to come already.

That self restraint lasted all but thirty seconds before you were bouncing on his cock, before your nails were digging into his chest, before you were moaning like something out of a fucking porno. 

You had completely lost all care and inhibitions, and it was the hottest thing Eddie had ever seen in his life.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the trailer, deafening the movie still playing on the screen. You bounced on his cock until you came once, twice, three times and it still wasn’t enough. You wanted more of him, you needed to feel every part of him until it was all you could think, smell and taste. 

There was a part of him that would care later, that would be mindful of the mess you had both made. The fact your release was soaking your thighs, his own and the couch beneath you. The fact that the trailer was stuffy and hot and probably smelt like sex. The fact that the remaining clothes you had kept on were all but shredded in a pile on the floor.

Those would all be things for him to care about later, but not when your face was pressed against the arm of the couch, nails digging into fabric of the couch as you wiggled your ass impatiently. 

“Please,” you all but sobbed, one hand reaching back for him. “Please, Eddie, I need you—”

His hand reached for yours, intertwining your fingers before he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “I know, baby, I know,” he cooed, his voice low and gruff and the whine that left your mouth was almost embarrassing. “Such a needy fucking slut.”

“Just need your cock,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt his tip nudge against your swollen clit. “Need you inside me, please.”

“My needy slut,” he murmured, another sloppy kiss placed against your lips before he sat up, his hands gripping your waist so tight you were sure you would bruise by the morning, but you didn’t care. 

Not when he started to pound into you from behind, not when the noises leaving your lips were debauched and desperate and sending a thrill of pleasure down his spine. Not when he could feel your walls clenching around him, your ass bouncing against his pelvis with every thrust until he couldn’t help himself as his hand came down on your ass cheek.

The moan you let out only encouraged him to do it again.

“Shit, look at you,” he groaned, watching the way your needy cunt swallowed him whole with every buck of his hips. “S’like you were made f’me, baby, fucking made for my cock.”

Your moans were whiny and incoherent.

“Yeah? My little whore made for my cock?” he gritted out through clenched teeth, his hips pressed against yours as he leaned over your body, as his chest pressed against your back and his arms wound around your body to grope your tits. “My little toy, hm?”

“Yours,” you murmured out, your lips parting in a silent scream as the coil deep in your stomach tightened. 

“My little toy gonna come?” he murmured, watching in delight the way you silently nodded, tears slipping down your face. “Come f’me, baby, let me feel you come.” 

 You were a mess by the time Eddie came too, a mix of your come and his own leaking out of you and onto the couch. Your skin was shiny with a layer of sweat, your body far too tired to even hold yourself up. And yet, still, you craved him. You craved more.

“Those chocolates are fucking dangerous,” Eddie murmured in amusement as he placed a bottle of water at your lips, lightly slapping your ass until you finally took a few gulps.

“Need you,” you whispered with a sniffle.

“Still?” He grinned before he joked. “Maybe we should do this every day.”

“Eddie,” you whined but he was there, he was always there to give you want.

“I know, baby, but gotta give you a lil’ break,” he murmured, and yet despite saying as much, you couldn’t help but let out a needy mewl when he slid back inside you, quick and easy considering how wet you still were. “Gonna keep you full, honey. I said until the morning, and I mean that.”

“Good,” you grumbled as you nuzzled yourself against his chest, still craving that closeness.

“Remind me to call Johnny tomorrow and ask for a bigger batch of those chocolates too.” 

You could only snort in response as Eddie placed a kiss against your temple.

.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

[roguelov]

Sleepless Night

Summary: Unable to sleep, you stumbled across Sanji at the back of the ship. A quick exchange, and some teasing remarks, a realization was made. Sanji hasn’t been with anyone, and you wanted to be his first

Word Count: ~ 4k

Reader: Afab (referred as love/sweetheart)

Warning: SMUT (oral (m!receiving and f!receiving), light exhibition (outside at night), voyeurism, inexperienced!Sanji)

Part 2

MINOR DNI/ 18+ ONLY

The late night breeze rippled across the obsidian glasslike sea. The ship, the Going Merry, was gently rocked like a baby in a cradle. The moon and stars glittered across the sky, guiding those to the land of dreams. It was a calm night, a peaceful night.

Yet, one soul was awake.

Sanji leaned his forearms on the railing, overlooking the sea staring off into the horizon. The sky and sea almost seamlessly blended together. A cigarette lazily hung from his fingertips. The salty water misted in the air, mixing with the light smoke. He brought the cigarette to his lips, inhaling deeply. The sweet nicotine swirled around, filling his chest. Tipping his head back, he exhaled slowly. His usually pristine suit was exchanged for sweatpants and a plain shirt. The chilly air nipped at his skin, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he welcomed it. Everything about tonight should lull a person to sleep, and have them running to be tucked nicely under the covers, yet he was wide awake.

The only one, or so he thought.

“You know those things can kill you.”

Sanji immediately smiled to himself. He laughed once, then glanced over to you. You strolled up beside him, sporting similar pajamas. Another sign you both should be asleep, you were dressed for it. You leaned your arms onto the railing, mimicking his stance.

“Is that so?” He quipped. “I’m sure a few won’t kill me before the Grand Line.”

“No,” you tilted your head in thought. “But, I might if I see you light another one.”

Sanji dipped his head, leaning in close to you. The smoke wafted off of him, a smell which always lingered around him. A smell which stirred such conflicting emotions in you. A devilish smirk danced over his lips. “Are you threatening me, sweetheart?”

You let out a bark of laughter and matched his smirk. “Definitely.”

You quickly snatched his cigarette then flicked it out into the sea. Sanji blinked, stunned for a moment. “I still had some left,” he mumbled, disappointedly. He shook his head, then smiled back at you. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You rolled your eyes, and bumped his hip, “So, why are you up so late?”

“Couldn’t sleep, you?”

“Same,” you sighed, leaning heavily into the railing. It was just one of those nights, your mind and body were at war with each other.

Sanji smirked, “Bet I could make you tired.”

You snorted, playing into this game of yours. “Yeah? Do you think you could keep up with me?”

“Oh! Well, look at you,” he chuckled. “I certainly will try. What do you say, love? Should we give it a go?”

This was your normal relationship with Sanji. The light teasing, the flirtatious comments; well, him more than you. Sanji’s silver tongue was far faster and sweeter than your own. Yet, you never thought it was nothing else but some simply fun.

Or you thought it was just for him.

Maybe it was because the two of you were alone, maybe it was because you knew you would probably just crawl back to your bed unable to sleep the rest of the night, maybe it was because he looked so unbelievably beautiful in the moonlight, you wanted to push it tonight. Normally, you would have dropped it by now. You would both laugh, and pretend nothing happened. Only for these same heart pounding scenarios to happen over and over.

Yet, a voice called out: your buried desires for the cook.

You wanted to test where the boundary in the sand was drawn between the two of you. Was it only games? Was there some truth behind his words? With the rest of the crew sleeping, you had to take your chance now.

Staring unwaveringly into his dazzling blue eyes, you said, “And if I say yes? What then?”

Sanji blinked, taken back. He opened his mouth and muttered utterly confused, “Wait, what?”

Don’t turn back now.

“I said -“

“No, no, I heard you. It’s just I, uh, I didn’t really expect you to ever answer with a yes.”

You cocked your head. Sanji’s smooth, wicked tongue was failing him. This was a side you never thought you would see, let alone a side he had. His words then replayed in your head, making you question a few things. “Why wouldn’t I?”

Sanji was handsome, sweet, kind, a great friend and cook. Only a fool would say no to him.

And a fool you were for a long time.

He licked his lips, glancing away. “I, uh, I don’t know -“ he fiddled with his hands, wishing desperately you didn’t toss away his cigarette - “I just never thought you would or if … if …”

His voice trailed off.

Your eyebrows knitted together. You stared more and more, watching him with confusion while he oddly retreated within himself. Under the moonlight, a faint blush dusted across his cheeks. His eyes widened, actively avoiding your gaze. He fidgeted in place, picking at his nails or part of the banister.

He was so nervous, so unlike him, almost as if -

Realization finally struck you.

“Oh - oh!” You twisted around to face him directly. There was no way to beat around the bush, you just had to ask him. “Sanji, have you ever been with anyone before?”

He tensed up at your question. You hit the nail square on the head. He sighed, dropping his shoulders. Was there any real point in hiding it now? “I may or may not have been busy with the Baratie and the old man, never had much time to myself.”

“Really?”

You would have never guessed. You would have assumed he had flings almost every night with the constant stream of customers. A new love, a new interest, with every ship that came in.

“Yes,” he groaned. Shame and embarrassment bubbled up inside of him. He may talk a big game, but he had nothing to back it up.

“Hey.” You gently rested your hand on his arm. His attention dropped to your hand then up to your kind face. “I’m not judging you, I don’t care honestly. I’m just surprised because you’re just so - so … flirty? Sauve? You’re just really good with your words.”

Even if he can be a bit cheesy at times.

Sanji laughed through his nose. “I find words are easier, sweetheart.”

You smiled at him, so endearing and sweet. His heart skipped at such a loving sight. “I don’t blame you, people can be a bit more complex,” you chuckled, hoping to lighten the mood.

He smiled softly in return, then glanced away. You both looked back out towards the sea. Sanji still naturally leaned into you, seeking out your warmth and comfort. Despite it all, nothing seemed to truly change. He was still Sanji, and you were still you.

Or so it seemed.

You, on the other hand, were now utterly restless. An idea was planted inside your head. One you couldn’t quite ignore. You bit your lip, nervously.

Where is the line? And do I dare keep pushing it?

“Sanji?”

He hummed, almost absentmindedly.

“Could … could I be your first?”

“What?” He whipped his head towards you.

“We don’t have to go all the way, I thought maybe I could just …”

How could you word this? You didn’t want to be harshly blunt and possibly frighten him.

“Just to start off small, I was thinking maybe I could … suck you off?”

You winced internally. That wasn’t entirely smooth. But, like you said, Sanji was better with words than you were.

He gulped, gawking at you. His quick fire mouth silenced for once. How could he say no? Why would he say no? To be his first, it was almost like a dream. Excited nerves sparked across his growing hot skin. His heart pounded feverishly in his chest, and he licked his lips trying to find his voice again.

“Are … are you sure?” He asked in a soft dazed whisper.

You smiled. “Sanji, I don’t mind but this is about you. Do you want this?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, without needing a second thought.

He wanted this, he wanted you. He wanted you the moment he saw you, but he never thought such fantasies could become reality.

“Good,” you whispered. You slowly sank to your knees in front of him.

“Out here?” He whispered out in surprise.

“Why not? Everyone else is asleep, and we’re at the back of the ship so no one should see us.”

His body buzzed. “Are you sure?”

You glanced up at him for a moment. Nerves were written so plainly all over his face. Maybe, this is a bit too much. “Sanji, we can go inside if you want. This is about you so -“

“Out here is good.”

You blinked, shocked by his quick change. “Are you sure? Because I want you to be comfortable.”

“Yeah,” he sighed then smiled. Honestly, the place didn’t matter. He just wanted you. But, out here on the deck, oh it sent a pleasant chill down his spine. “I’m sure, love.”

“Okay then,” you nodded.

You situated yourself, ensuring Sanji’s back leaned into the railing while you sat on your knees before him. Your hands skimmed up his thighs, just dipping your toe into the water. And yet, Sanji shook slightly under the simple touch.

“Relax, Sanji.”

“Sweetheart, I’m trying but - oh my god, you look so - so -“

Amazing. Beautiful. Stunning.

You peered up at him with adoration. Yet, a sinful darkness swept over your features. A viper-like smile crossed over your lips. You couldn’t hold back your desires. Seeing him stuttering, so unlike his usual composed self, was absolutely thrilling. You chuckled at his rosy tinted cheeks and ears.

“What happened? You’re usually so good with your words,” you teased, running your hands up and down his thighs.

His knees nearly buckled. You hadn’t even truly done anything, but any touch left his body dizzy. He was trapped in a whirlwind of building desires. “Hard to think when you’re looking up at me like that,” he mumbled.

You hummed, smirking to yourself. “Well? Can I take these off?” You snapped the band of his sweatpants, almost making him jump.

Sanji didn’t trust his voice for once. He simply nodded.

“Wonderful,” you purred.

You carefully tugged down the sweatpants, revealing a wet spot on his boxers. You bit your lip. You hadn’t begun, and yet he was already turned on. It fueled your ego a bit.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” You promised.

But, you would also have your fun along the way.

You softly blew on the wet patch. Sanji’s hands grabbed the railing, holding it in a crushing white-knuckling grip. He swallowed, and groaned very softly.

How was he going to last?

You kissed directly over the patch.

Sanji shoved a fist into his mouth, forcing back an awfully loud moan.

You slowly slid down his boxers, and his cock sprung out. You shivered at the sight of it. To say the cook was packing was an understatement. You snuck a glance up at him. He looked adorable. No, appetizing. His cheeks were flushed, and a hand covered his mouth preventing any wayward sounds. He was fighting back against his own desires, but you desperately wanted the cook to lose control. You wanted to see this side of him, to see pleasure wrought into every inch of his body.

And to know you were the first made it all the more delicious.

Your fingers curled around the base of his cock. Sanji fiercely but his lip, trying to keep calm. Your thumb brushed over his red, swollen tip, gathering up precum. You gave him a few soft and teasingly slow pumps. Sanji tipped his head back, falling under your spell. His hand slid from his mouth, latching onto the railing. Your hands were far better than his own.

You then swept the flat of your tongue over his swollen tip. He bit down on his lip harshly, almost about to draw blood. His eyes squeezed so tight, losing a part of himself with every passing second.

“Fucking hell,” he hissed out.

You chuckled, mischievously. Teasing him was so easy now. His reactions were delightful, and spurred your own growing desires.

Your tongue ran up the underneath of his cock. He slapped his hand over his mouth, groaning into his palm. Then, you peppered kisses up and down. With each kiss - each sweet butterfly kiss - he became more and more vocal.

If only you could hear it so clearly.

Kissing his tip one last time, your lips finally wrapped around him and took him inch by inch. Your tongue glided along his base, tasting him and feeling the weight of him. Taking all of him, you held him in your mouth for a second before slowly pulling back. You repeated the movements, slow and steady. A teasing pace, or a way to warm him up to it.

Your eyes flickered up, eager to see all of his reactions.

His eyebrows were pinched together in pleasure. His soft pants could not be completely silenced by his hand. While, the other held firmly onto the railing. He needed stability, he needed support.

You removed your mouth completely. You reached over, gently grabbing his hand on the railing and guiding to the top of your head. “Here,” you encouraged. “You can keep your hand here, and tug on my hair if you want.”

He peered down at you like some dazzling treasure. “I - really? Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

You laughed lightly. Your hands wrapped around his thighs. “You can’t hurt me. Besides -“ you threw him a wicked smirk - “maybe I want you to hurt me.”

Fuck.

He could have came right there.

“You’re dangerous, sweetheart,” he muttered in awe.

You winked, then chuckled darkly. You quickly took him in your mouth again, setting a faster pace. Your tongue swirled and grazed along him. Your fingernails dug into his thighs, eager to do all you can for him.

And dear god, you were.

Sanji was losing himself. Pleasure was filling his veins, and blood rushed in his ears. He was becoming wildly desperate for his release. His hips bucked once, unconsciously chasing his high.

You groaned, feeling his tip kiss the back of your throat.

Sanji flinched, and froze in place. Has he hurt you? He grunted, forcing himself to stay still and enjoy it.

You pulled away with a pop.

Sanji nearly whined.

“Don’t hold back,” you said, a little breathless. “I don’t mind if you move your hips.”

‘You can fuck my face,’ you almost said. However, you tried your best to be a little tame.

Sanji’s heart nearly bursted. He nodded, humming in response.

“Good.” You kissed his tip, and Sanji almost fell backwards into the sea. “Because if anything was wrong, I would tell you. Now, enjoy yourself.”

Your lips wrapped around his cock. Your head bobbed up and down again. Sanji bucked his hips again. You hummed, encouraging him.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. He was panting heavily. His head fell forward, watching you. Your lips covered in spit, wrapped so perfectly around him. It was a sight he never thought would happen. Your eyes locked with his. His hair clung to his forehead. His eyes had pooled into the sinful black, and sweat glistened along his skin.

He hasn’t looked more beautiful until now.

You hummed. He hissed then moaned softly. His lovely lips were now an incoherent mess.

He gasped, “Love, I - I -“

He choked on his words. He couldn’t form a thought, let alone a full sentence.

But, you understood. His cock twitched in your mouth. He was close. You wanted to whisper to him, to whispering loving praises in his ear. ‘Come for me, Sanji’, or ‘you’re doing so good’ but perhaps another time.

He moaned, and leaned heavily back into the railing. He could barely keep himself upright anymore. He rocked his hips, matching your pace. He tugged on your hair, drawing you closer. Your nose brushed against his abdomen with each thrust. You relaxed your jaw, allowing him to use you.

You moaned, loudly.

This was all so hot.

His head fell back, mumbling your name over and over. This was heavenly. You were heavenly. This was better than he dreamt over, far better knowing you were the one doing such things.

God, he was already imagining other things. He wanted fuck you, he wanted to make love with you, he wanted to have you on the counter, he wanted to see you riding him, he wanted to try it all. He wanted to do it all with you.

“Please,” he whimpered. He wanted this to last forever, but the pleasure was too much. “Can - can I come in your mouth?”

You moaned a ‘yes’.

That was all he needed.

He came down your throat, moaning out your name. You hummed, taking it all. Sanji glanced down at you with heavy eyes. He panted loudly, gulping down air. Ever so slowly, he released his intense grip on your hair. His legs shook slightly reeling from all of this.

Peering up at him, you pulled away then opened your mouth. His cum sat on your tongue. He whimpered faintly, utterly spent and in awe. You gladly swallowed it with a devious smirk.

His reaction was priceless.

You pulled up his boxers and pants. Standing up, you patted his chest, feeling his chaotic heart race under your fingertips. A swell of pride surged through you. You opened your mouth to ask if he liked it, when he swiftly grabbed your face kissing you.

Your eyes widened, but instantly fell into him.

His tongue slipped past your lips, drawing out your wondrous sinful sounds and desires. He could taste himself on your tongue. He groaned.

Fuck, he thought.

He pushed off the railing, flipping you around. Your lower back dug into the wood, but you didn’t mind. Your hands wandered up his chest into his hair. Your fingers tangled into the blonde locks, tugging on them softly. He moaned against your lips. He nipped on your bottom lip, loving your small gasps.

“Please,” he murmured against your lips. “Please, I want to return the favor.”

His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your hips. He drew you close to him. You grinded softly against him. A small, sweet moan fell off your lips.

Sanji was greedy for more.

You had only given him a tasting, he now wanted the meal.

“I … I want to … please,” he begged again.

He was already sinking down to his knees. His fingers dug into your thighs, bunching up your sweatpants. Your heart pounded in your chest as you bit your lip. Just as he thought earlier, why would you say no? Even if he was inexperienced, you didn’t care.

“Okay, okay,” you mumbled, shakily.

His eyes twinkled with glee, like a kid in a candy store. You hastily kicked off your sweatpants, and about to remove your underwear -

“Let me.”

Sanji’s hands stopped yours. You froze then nodded, letting go. You wanted him to try and take charge, to see what he would do.

Sanji hummed. He slowly pulled down your underwear. He was entranced. His fingers delicately traced down your thighs and legs being as gentle as possible. As he brought them down, you stepped out of them. Sanji placed them with your sweatpants. Glancing back, he groaned at the sight of your glistening cunt.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured, licking his lips.

His breath on your dripping folds made you shiver. You were immensely turned on by all of this. But, it was the hunger in his eyes that made you weak. Such hunger and want. He wanted to please you in any capacity, he wanted to be good for you.

Holy shit.

“Sanji,” you breathed out. “Can - can I -“

“Do whatever you need to, love.”

“I just want to -“ you carefully hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. You leaned backwards using the railing and Sanji for support.

He firmly grabbed your thigh, thrilled by this. He turned his head, kissing all over your thigh. Up and down, up and down, until he trail led back to where you needed him. You shivered, tipping your head back.

“Sanji,” you sighed.

“What do you need? Tell me what to do,” he purred, buzzing with excitement.

“Your tongue, your tongue, I -“

His tongue quickly swept through your folds. You groaned. His mouth latched itself onto you, swirling around. His tongue was like utter magic. You supposed you should have known from the kiss. Sanji knew how to work his tongue, he had experience in that field. All he needed was a little guidance and encouragement elsewhere.

“Higher,” you gasped. “Go higher.”

His mouth moved. His lips wrapped around your clit and you whined.

“Right there, fuck,” you hissed.

Sanji hummed.

For a brief moment, you saw stars. He sucked on your clit, feeling your thigh twitch. Sanji groaned at the thought of both of your thighs wrapped around his head.

Another time, he swore to himself.

His tongue slowly swirled around again, lapping up your juices. His movements were hesitant, yet with each of your sighs and praises he grew more and more confident. Every sound was music to his ears. Sanji pulled away. He stared up at you breathless. His chin coated in your juices. He wanted to savor this moment.

Savor you.

“Sweetheart,” he mumbled. Your eyes dropped down to him. He smiled softly with such a boyish charm. “You are absolutely stunning.”

You laughed once, shaking your head. It seemed he had his silver tongue back. Sanji dived back in. His tongue parted your folds, curling around, and pushing inside of you. You moaned. Your fingers tangled into his hair.

“Fuck, Sanji,” you hummed.

Your foul mouth only encouraged him.

With his hand still on your thigh, he tugged you forward. His nose brushed against your clit. You gasped. Pleasure shot through you. You whimpered as your hips unconsciously bucked forward again.

More. You wanted more.

Your heel dug into his back, and you yanked on his hair. Sanji moaned, sending sweet loving vibrations throughout you. “Keeping going, Sanji, just like that.”

Sanji listened perfectly. He devoured you.

Fuck, he’s a natural.

Just with your gentle guidance, and your soft moans, Sanji had quickly learned your body. His tongue swept against your folds again and again. You moaned, almost pornographically. You rode his face, bucking your hips against his wondrous tongue.

You were panting as your pleasure built and built. “Fuck, Sanji, I’m about to come.”

He whined, “Oh, please, sweetheart.”

His fingers dug into your thigh. His lips wrapped around your clit, hearing your sweet sharp inhales. All your weight fell into the railing. You gasped, chanting Sanji’s name over and over. Your eyes squeezed shut, and finally let go, let pleasure consume you. You cried out his name. Sanji moaned as you came all over him. He greedily lapped up everything, not daring to waste a single drop.

He carefully pulled away, and your leg slid off his shoulder. He stood up, and cupped your face. He kissed you passionately once more. His expert tongue slid inside, making you taste him and yourself.

“Fuck,” you mumbled into the kiss.

Your knees were weak. You clung to his arms, humming into the kiss. Sanji slowly broke the kiss, enjoying your soft whines of protests. Both of you were panting, filling up the quiet still night.

Sanji chuckled once. “So? How did I do, sweetheart? Tired yet?”

You may have created a monster.

You blinked, then shook your head. You smirked, “Oh, I’m not done with you yet, unless you’re tired.”

He wrapped an arm around you. “Oh, sweetheart, I can keep going.”

I want to keep going, I want to have it all, he thought. Besides, what meal isn’t better without some dessert?

#one piece #one piece live action #Opla #sanji vinsmoke #opla sanji #opla x reader #sanji x reader #sanji vinsmoke x reader #smut #afab!reader

[ghstzzn]

summer, night | choi beomgyu

pairing: choi beomgyu x f!reader wc: 1.9k

summary: when your date ends up being crashed by a thunderstorm, you have no choice but to camp out in your boyfriends car. luckily, he knows just what to do to pass time.

warnings/tags: fluff, smut, unprotected sex, very soft - not so descriptive smut, fingering, pet names (baby, pretty) idk thats it

note: my last re-upload i think?? this is from my deleted account yunho-mp3, so if it seems familiar that's whyyyyhfiawghkrebk. i think ill die if i write another summary

“beomgyu,” you whine, ”i seriously can't do this!”

beomgyu comes to a slow stop on his skateboard, kicking the board up and holding it with one hand. he turns around and faces you, seeing that you were still about fifteen feet behind him, he grins widely. 

“baby, it's not as hard as you're making it out to be.”

“it is!” you reply, falling to a crouch dramatically. “it’s not fair, you are just a pro. i can’t even balance on the stupid thing without you holding me.”

beomgyu makes his way towards you, the grin on his face never falling. “do you want me to hold you then?”

you look up at him and scoff.

“stand up, pretty.” he takes you hand in his and balances you back onto the board. “you’re doing fine, you just keep freaking yourself out and it messes you up.”

he lets go of your hands, leaving you to balance by yourself. beomgyu crouches at your feet, softly moving your feet as you grab onto his shoulders for support. when he stands up again, you feel comfortable in your stance.

“does that feel better?” he asks you. you nod your head in reply and he turns to step back onto his board to demonstrate. “when you want to move, keep this foot planted on the board - make sure to keep your weight on it too.” 

you slowly copy his movements, flailing your arms in the process in fear that you’ll fall if you don't. 

“don’t do that either,” beomgyu catches your arm, setting it down by your side, “you’ll lose balance quicker and lose focus of the weight on your board. now watch, baby.”

beomgyu slowly gains speed on his skateboard, making sure to stay as slow as possible while demonstrating his movements clearly for you. “your turn. slowly.” 

he sits there as he waits for you to start moving, but you remain frozen, staring at the cement in front of you. you were beyond thankful it was later and beomgyu had brought you to a smaller, more quieter skatepark.

“can you just-” you pause, motioning your arms towards yourself. “please?” 

beomgyu lets out a faint sigh as he makes his way towards you once more. you smile to yourself when he places his hands on your waist, “ready?”

“yes!” 

beomgyu holds you upright as you start to press down onto the ground to move. you start slowly so you can gain balance and momentum (and so your boyfriend can keep right next to you) but after a minute, beomgyu has let go of you, unnoticed, and soon you were gliding smoothly around the park. 

“oh my god, babe!” you shout. beomgyu watches, smiling wide at the way you weren’t freaking out. “i’m doing it!”

“see! i knew you could do it.” he shouts back. “slow down a little, baby, i want to ride next to you.”

slowly but surely, even after a few accidents, you and beomgyu were side by side skating - holding hands at some points and laughing with each other when one of you (mostly you) would trip up and fall off the board. 

half an hour later, you and your boyfriend were sitting side by side along one of the ramps in the park, dangling your legs against the drop. the park had emptied out not long ago and you both became tired after skating for a few hours straight. 

beomgyu had many hobbies, from music to photography, and one of them was skating. it wasn’t something he did often but he had mentioned wanting to teach you on your first date together. now, fast forward almost 5 months later, he finally got to. 

“i can’t wait for you to get really good at this so we can skate in my favorite spots together,” he suddenly says, his breath showing in the cold air. “and so you can do sick tricks and i can totally film them then post them to show off how i totally got you to that point.”

“oh, you’re so romantic, beomgyu.” you know your shoulders against his. 

he lets chuckles quietly, muttering how he’s just that good of a teacher.

“but you’re right, it gets easier when i stop thinking about how i'm constantly going to fall.”

you fall deep into conversation, resting your head on his shoulders as you watch him fiddle with the digital camera in his hands. beomgyu brought it to record small parts of the date and take pictures of you both. it’s only been five months since he had asked you to officially be his girlfriend, but you were sure he would be the one you were to spend the rest of your days with. 

you flinch when you feel small droplets of water hit your hand, looking up, you can see the sky softly light up from lightning. 

“was it supposed to storm tonight?” you ask beomgyu.

he digs in his back pocket for his phone, pulling up the weather app when he retrieves it. 

“i could've sworn it was going to be clear skies tonight,” beomgyu replies, flashing his screen towards you, “look. It’s supposed to storm for the next few hours.”

you sit up and stretch your shoulders, rolling your head around to stretch your neck, “well, let’s get back before it starts here. movie at mine?”

“sure. i parked kind of far so we should go like… right now.” a loud thunderclap strikes when he finishes his sentence, making you and beomgyu both jump at the sound.

as you both make your way to beomgyu’s car, the wind picks up and rain falls harder, urging you to speed walk. not even seconds pass before puddles are forming and the rain is coming down harshly. you and beomgyu are practically running and screaming, spitting out profanities when you reach his car and it’s not immediately unlocking when he clicks his fob.

“it’s freezing!” you squeal out, reaching for the knobs inside to turn the heat on. you scream and hide your face in your hands when cold air blows out instead of hot, uncovering your face when the vents start warming up. 

“god, it’s fucking pouring.” beomgyu states.

“we probably shouldn’t drive right now.” you say, watching large puddles form in the parking lot. you turn in your seat to face beomgyu, who was already staring at you. “what?”

“you look really pretty tonight.”

you mess with the sleeve of your sweater, blushing at his sudden words. beomgyu taps at his phone, eventually finding a calming playlist to play, setting his phone down on the center console. you continue to observe beomgyu, your gaze catching onto his strong facial features. his long, fluffy hair that was slightly damp from running in the rain - it was your favorite physical attribute of his, you could lay for hours treading your fingers through his hair, the best part was that he’d always let you. 

“you too.” beomgyu shoots you a confused glance. 

“you also look really pretty tonight.” you whisper.

“i tried. took me all day to get my hair like this and took me three days to pick these.” he replies, motioning towards his ripped jeans. 

you giggle and swat beomgyu’s shoulder, “i should refrain from complimenting you.”

“wait baby, noo, compliment me more!” you shake your head no at his pleas, calling him egotistical. beomgyu leans closer to you, resting his elbows on the console in between you both. “tell me i’m pretty again.”

you place your hands on both of his cheeks, squeezing them softly. “you’re soo pretty, my love. the prettiest ever!”

he laughs loudly at your praises, “outsold. ate. face card never declining.. well, sometimes.”

“hey!” 

you giggle at his response.

“what do you mean sometimes?” beomgyu whines. “mean girl.”

you close the gap in between the two of you, gently laying a kiss on his soft lips. when you pull away, beomgyu goes in for more. “how should we pass time?” he asks in between kisses.

“i feel like you already have something in mind.” 

“we don’t have to, baby. we are in a parking lot so i understand.” he mutters against your lips.

“only if you don’t want to.”

beomgyu shakes his head, “get back there, cutie.”

you smile, climbing over the center console and yelping when beomgyu suddenly pinches your thigh with his nails. he follows you to the back seat, immediately landing his lips on yours before he even situates himself. you comb your fingers through his hair, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. beomgyu wastes no time sliding his hands up and under your flowy miniskirt, grabbing your hips from underneath the material and pulling you under him. 

you let out a quiet moan when beomgyu suddenly grinds into you, the material of his jeans creating more friction. beomgyu trails wet kisses down your neck, pulling the collar of your sweater down to reach your collarbones, sucking at your skin every so often. 

“was this your plan?” you breathe out, your boyfriend looking up and smirking at you. 

“do you mean the rain?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“the sex in the c-” your sentence coming to a stop when beomgyu suddenly lays the pads of his fingers under your panties, circling your clit.

“sorry? i didn’t quite get that, baby.” you roll your eyes and bring him back to your lips, passion burning through more than before as he continues to work you with his fingers.

despite not even being together for half a year, beomgyu knew how to work your body perfectly - even with just his hands he can have you falling apart. it’s no wonder why you found yourself falling head over heels for him so fast. the knot in your stomach grew tighter as beomgyu continued his pace, occasionally slipping his fingers in your warmth, stretching and curling them inside of you. 

“mh- beomgyu, almost.” you moan against his lips.

“go ahead, pretty.” you arch into him as your orgasm hits you, whining into beomgyu’s neck as he rides you through it.

“i don’t have a condom, baby. do you?” he asks.

you shake your head rapidly, whimpering and grabbing at his jeans, “don’t care, just need you please, gyu.”

soon enough, beomgyu is thrusting inside of you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you take his length. one hand lays under your sweater as the other is against the window to steady himself.

“so good, baby, you’re so good,” he groans, “so pretty and perfect for me.”

it’s not before long when you’re reaching your second high as beomgyu reaches his, falling into your neck as he cums inside of you, groaning and slowing his thrusts to a stop. you try to catch your breath as you run your fingers through his hair, tugging softly as a way to let him know not fall asleep despite the compromising position. he sits up, leaving a few more soft kisses on you.

“you look beautiful like this.” he said, rubbing your side softly. you chuckle and mutter a soft thank you, wincing when he suddenly pulls out to clean both you and himself up. 

the rain hadn’t stopped, but it had gotten way lighter. you laid against beomgyu, comparing his hand size to yours as you both watched the rain continue to hit the windshield.

“gyu?” you break the comforting silence.

“yeah?” 

“thank you for choosing me.”

your eyes meet each other, and you can almost see the genuine love he has for you within his. the way his gaze meets yours is nothing but soft and full of love and adoration for you.

“i should really be thanking you, my pretty girl.” beomgyu replies, voice barely above a whisper as he lays a kiss against your head. “i love you. let’s go watch that movie at your place, yeah?”

#my home-tubatu 💭 #my home-beomgyu ♡ #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fic #beomgyu smut #beomgyu scenarios #beomgyu x female reader #txt smut #txt fluff #txt fanfic #txt x reader #txt x fem reader

[togrowoldinv]

Sinking Sand

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

Wanda finds her way back into your life and you can’t resist her

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, needy Wanda, oral (W receiving), thigh riding, Wanda being 🔥

Note: I woke up thinking about her so here we go. Enjoy!

Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist

It’s late in the afternoon when you hear a knock at your door. You look through the glass and are surprised to see the woman you broke up with last week.

Actually, you’re not sure if you can even call it a break up. You were never really dating. Just keeping each other company, or at least that’s what she called it.

That misconception of what you were ultimately led to the end of whatever it was. Or so you thought. Why would Wanda be at your door anyway, you wonder.

For better or worse, you open the door for her. Wanda has a smile on her face, but you don’t reflect it.

“What are you doing here?” You ask her.

“I missed you,” Wanda says simply.

“You don’t get to say that,” you reply. “Not after last week.”

“Oh, come on sweetheart. Can’t we just go back to what we’re good at?”

Wanda crosses the threshold of your apartment. You sigh and shut the door. She’s not going to make this easy.

“Shouldn’t you be off with your ex husband?” You ask her.

“Honey, I am not sleeping with him,” Wanda says.

She takes off her coat to reveal a gown that is definitely not meant to be worn out in public. You curse yourself for letting your eyes drop to her breasts.

“Well, we’re not sleeping together either,” you try and hold your ground.

She sees your stance slipping though. Like a house built on sand, you won’t withstand the storm that is Wanda.

Wanda sits on your couch and doesn’t have the decency to cross her legs. You know she’s not wearing panties under that gown. She never is.

“Come here, sweetheart,” she says, catching your gaze. She pats the spot next to her but you sit further away.

Wanda scoots closer to you and closes the gap. Her thigh brushes against your leg. You try not to react, but she knows what she does to you.

“How- um- how are the boys?” You try to distract her and yourself.

“Just fine,” Wanda replies. She leans in closer and is just inches from you. “Their mommy needs some help though.”

“Wanda,” you warn. “We called this off.”

“So let’s call it back on,” Wanda brushes off the seriousness of your tone. “Please, baby. Would you deny me this?”

Wanda’s lips move to your neck. She leaves hot, open mouthed kisses there as she grabs your hand. She takes your hand to guide it where she wants it.

You can’t take it anymore, so you stand up from the couch. Wanda groans in frustration.

“Y/n,” Wanda says. She reaches her hand out for you. “It’s okay. Come back.”

“Wanda, this back and forth is not healthy.”

“But we were having fun, y/n.”

“Wanda, it’s not about fun. You need to start acting your-“ you stop yourself short of calling her out for the obvious.

“My what?” She stands up and walks to you. You take steps backwards until you’re pressed against the wall. “Tell me what you were going to say.”

“It’s nothing, Wanda,” you say. “Forget it.”

“It’s not nothing,” she says. She pins your arms to your side and slips her leg between yours.

“It’s just- you’re older than me,” you say, not quite making eye contact. Wanda grips your face to make you look at her.

“I thought you liked that I’m older than you,” Wanda says. Her voice comes out a low growl. “That I’m a desperate mother who needs you to make her feel so fucking good.”

“I did like that, but-“

“Just shut up and kiss me,” Wanda says.

She takes control and kisses your lips. You let her deepen the kiss. When her tongue brushes against yours, you realize that any resolve you had is gone. You’re doing this.

“I want you to fuck me so hard,” Wanda says between kisses. “I missed the way only you make me feel.”

You feel on fire on at her words. Pushing her back to the couch, you lift her gown over her head. She’s not wearing any undergarments, as you suspected.

You kiss every inch of her. Her collar bone that perfectly frames her body, her silky neck, her nipples, the perfect valley between her breasts, all the way down to her dripping pussy.

“Fuck,” Wanda moans as you bury your face between her legs. “Please baby.”

“I’ve got you, Wanda,” you say against her.

The whines Wanda lets out are the best sounds you’ve ever heard. You missed making her like this. She unfolds under your touch.

You take her clit into your mouth and Wanda’s hips move to be impossibly closer to you. She puts her hand on your head to push you closer into her. Your hand reaches up to grip Wanda’s breasts.

“I’m so close, sweetheart,” Wanda says. “Fuck, I’m going to come.”

Wanda’s movements become erratic before she comes hard against your mouth. You don’t move your mouth away until Wanda is pushing you away.

“Fuck, baby,” Wanda says. Her voice is breathy.

You kiss her lips and she moans at the taste of herself on your tongue. Wanda pulls you up onto her lap and you straddle her lap.

Even through your pants, you feel the wetness pooling in your underwear. Wanda taps your hips and you stand up. She unbuttons the pants and kisses your lower belly with every second she spends on taking your pants off.

Wanda pulls your underwear down with your pants and brings you back to her lap. Your core brushes against her thigh. She doesn’t miss the way you shudder.

“Wanda,” you breathe out.

“Do you want to fuck yourself on mommy’s thigh?” Wanda asks, her voice dripping with lust.

“Please,” you say.

Wanda’s hands help move your hips over her thigh. You kiss her as you grind against her thigh. It’s hard to breathe but you don’t mind.

This reminds you how much you love being with Wanda. She has a way of making you feel like the only person in the world.

“You’re so good for me, sweetheart. I feel so good,” Wanda says. “You’re so wet. I want you to come against my thigh.”

“Fuck,” you mumble against her lips.

Wanda moves your hips quicker and you come hard against her thigh. You bury your face into the place between her shoulder and neck. The perfect place to be.

She kisses your head and holds you close. You remember this part too. She makes you feel loved even though it’s no more than hooking up.

“Y/n, thank you for opening the door,” Wanda says. You nod against her. “Can we do this again?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I really did miss you.”

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” Wanda says.

She smiles to herself as you rest in her arms. Maybe next time she’ll tell you that she felt like it was more than just a hook up. But for now, she’ll be here to make you feel good over and over again.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #milf!wanda #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff smut

[heartsofminds]

my life is changing every day, in every possible way

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” or It's Halloween, Bradley has a precocious eleven-month-old daughter, and he might be in love with her impromptu babysitter.

A/N: soooo here's a halloween thing that i kind of just threw together? i'm OBSESSED with bradley being a girl dad and just love this little girl i came up with (@gretagerwigsmuse knows that we love quincy in this household). anywho, enjoy some poorly written dadley and this super pointless halloween drabble? hope y'all had a good holiday and am sooo looking forward to writing more of this daddy/daughter duo !

“Whatever it is, Bradshaw, you’re not excused this time.” 

Jake Seresin slams his locker shut and shoves his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. The heel of his boot is kicked up, making a soft “thud” on the hollow metal as he leans his back against it. He crosses his arms to lie in front of his chest and adjusts his watch.

The small wooden bench screwed into the linoleum tile perches Bradley Bradshaw, who sits with his elbows digging into the tops of his thighs and his back aching something awful. He softly grunts before he turns to release some of the pressure there. The resounding crack it makes causes Jake to grimace a little before his face returns to the snarky default position it always seems to have. 

“I’m sorry I’m an adult? And have responsibilities?” Bradley rolls his eyes and traces his index finger around a watermark on the wood next to him. 

He notices his Nalgene water bottle sweating and subconsciously picks it up, using the bottom of his t-shirt to dry the wet spots it left in its wake. Jake and Natasha watch him without his knowledge and share a knowing look with each other, but remain silent. Sometimes it’s hard to determine if Bradley’s behavior is because he’s in a vastly different life stage than they are, or if it’s just a Bradley thing. 

Trying to figure it out makes everyone’s brains hurt so they often just let it be. 

The blonde groans again. “You say it like flying a billion-dollar aircraft every single day isn’t a huge responsibility,” he licks his lips before throwing his head back, “Can you take that huge stick out of your ass for once and let yourself have fun?” 

“I have a baby, shithead. I can’t just stop being a dad to go to a Halloween party.” 

Javy slams his locker shut and prances over to Jake and Natasha. A wrinkle in his eyebrows starts to form as he thinks over Bradley’s statement. He finds himself standing next to Jake; his stance is identical and his bargaining skills are tuned and ready to be used. 

“It’s hardly a party at all, man. It’s a costume, a couple of beers at Pen’s place, and maybe one other bar for like an hour,” he speaks and pats Bradley’s shoulder, “Live a little.” 

Bradley sighs; the puff of air housing a hint of playfulness and a hint of annoyance. He knows he’s already lost and that there is absolutely no way he’s getting out of it this time. And so help him God, he can’t believe he’s thinking this, but maybe what Jake and Javy are saying doesn’t sound like too bad of a plan. 

It would be good for him. It would be good them. It would be good for Quincy, and if any of the parenting magazine articles (that he’s kind of ashamed to have budgeted for paying for the subscriptions, if he’s being honest) had anything to say about it, children thrive when their parents are thriving. 

Besides, Penny and Mav have kinda been on his ass about it. Because yeah, she goes to daycare during the day and yes, she’s technically been around other kids and for sure has had her share of being around adults, but she’s one anxious biting attack away from being kicked out of daycare and all the people Bradley trusts (outside of Miss Charlene at the daycare who is a friend of Penny’s and was his babysitter when he was small) are up in the sky so he’s really running himself dry with options. 

Natasha calls it separation anxiety but Bradley calls it a bond. Which is true, Nat had agreed, but it wasn’t just about Quincy being attached. It was also about Bradley being just as attached, if not more. 

In the eleven months that Quincy Elaine Bradshaw had been on this Earth, Bradley hadn’t left her side for longer than four hours at a time. 

And he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never really had anyone to call his own before or if it’s a “Papa Bear” thing or if there’s some unexplained biological phenomena that won’t allow him to be away from his daughter without spiraling, but he hardly thinks its a problem. . . .

Except when he leaves on his lunch break to go see her at daycare and she’s in a fit of hysterics whenever his hour break is up and he has to return to work. Or when she’s eleven months old and has never slept by herself in her own room before (which is why his back is so fucked, but he’ll never admit it). Or when she’s biting kids and teachers because she’s so anxious she doesn’t know what to do with herself. 

So, yeah. Maybe it is a problem and maybe the root of it all is guilt. 

He can’t let his daughter out of his sight because he can’t help but feel guilty for raising her the same way he was and giving her a ghost that she never asked for – a parent whose approval she will always seek despite never knowing who that person truly is. 

Something about that makes him feel like he has to make up time for two as a punishment for only being one, and being the one who can’t provide her everything she’ll ever need as a growing girl and eventually as a woman. 

“I don’t know,” he says lamely. He wraps his finger around the loose thread on his t-shirt and pulls it in one fell swoop. 

“Okay, fuck. You need to get out. What do you need?” Natasha pipes up, rolling her eyes before sitting down next to him. 

He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth to answer but she cuts him off before he can. “What’s it gonna take? Do you need a sitter? A lobotomy? You need to live a little, dude.” 

“Well, we know the sitter’s not the issue. The kid’s cute as shit,” Jake speaks up and Bradley scoffs. 

“She’s so fucking cute,” Javy agrees and Bradley has to hide his grin despite being annoyed. 

He helped make the cutest baby ever. Who wouldn’t be obnoxiously proud about that? 

“Absolutely adorable. People are lining up to babysit her,” Reuben Fitch interrupts and joins the group of aviators which further puts a pin in Bradley’s desire to decline the invitation. Rueben doesn’t involve himself in Jake or Javy’s bullshit very often, but when he does, it’s evident that the idea isn’t absolutely batshit crazy. 

Bradley gives him a playful middle finger before straightening his posture and coming to the realization that maybe Jake was right for once. 

“Yeah.” Holy fucking shit. “Rueben’s wife would put her in her pocket and take her home if you let her.” 

And the golden rule is that if Bob is game for something, then everyone else should be. So now he really has no excuse to not go out on Halloween night because he has the Southern Californian equivalent of the fucking Pope giving his two cents on to why he needs to go. 

Fuck you, Bob Floyd for always being the voice of reason. 

“See? Everyone agrees. You’re the odd one out so it’s only fair,” Jake taunts again. Everyone around Bradley seems to be shaking their head in agreement to which he realizes that he’s stuck and there’s no way he won’t be in attendance to the group’s Halloween plans. 

“But it’s her first Halloween,” he tries to reason, “I can’t leave her alone on her first one.” 

Javy sighs. “She’s not even gonna remember it. Yeah it’s a holiday but she’s not missing out on much. She doesn’t even have teeth yet.” 

Jake laughs sarcastically. “Q-dawg’s been chompin’ away on all of her little daycare friends. Haven’t you heard?” 

Bradley narrows his eyes. “Fuck you! I thought you left the room when I was on the phone with the daycare.” 

“Her business is our business now, Bradshaw. Aren’t we allowed uncle duties?” Reuben teases. Natasha clears her throat to interrupt him. “And aunt duties?”  

“Auntie Nat reigns superior and we all know it, but holy shit. She’s biting people? How is she more badass than her dad?” Nat goads and shoves the back of Bradley’s head playfully. She chuckles at how slow his head pops back up and he mocks her laugh and sticks out his tongue at her. 

“Guys, c’mon. I can’t leave her with a sitter on her first Halloween.” Although he knows he sounds silly (and he feels silly saying it, too), his daughter is his best friend in some ways. Despite her not being able to walk yet and only having a vocabulary of a few words, he can’t help but know how deeply he loves her, and how much everything about her matters to him. 

“Then don’t,” Bob says, “Just bring her to Hard Deck for like an hour and then you can run home, meet the sitter, and then meet us wherever else we decide to go.” 

And sometimes Bradley hates how much sense Bob tends to make and wishes that he was wrong. That no, the Hard Deck isn’t a suitable place for a baby, and no, there’s absolutely no way Quincy would keep her cool while being there during one of the busiest nights of the year. 

But he knows it’s a lie because her grandparents are the owners, everyone loves her and fights over having their turn to hold her or even catch a glimpse of a baby smile directed at them, and the fact that Quincy has been to the Hard Deck enough to have developed an affinity for diluted cranberry juice over the Mott’s Tots apple juice sitting in his pantry. 

“Fuck, fine. But you’re finding me a fucking babysitter,” he speaks, pointing a finger between Jake and Natasha before standing up abruptly. He turns on his heel and makes his way toward the door, knowing the only way he can make sense of the predicament he’s put himself in can be solved by seeing his joyous baby girl. 

The sounds of muffled chuckles and shoes squeaking on the ground fill the silence of Bradley’s absence; all of their eyes flitting to each other to decipher if they actually made the most stubborn man alive give into their bidding with minimal effort. 

“Did we just make Rooster. . .cave?” Reuben speaks, his arms coming up to cross in front of his chest. His thumb rolls his wedding band around on his ring finger as he waits for someone else to speak up.

“Huh,” Jake huffs, “I think we did.” 

“So I’m guessing the lobotomy is out of the question,” Mickey ponders out loud, “Y’all better know a damn good babysitter.” 

Natasha and Jake’s eyes widen in realization. They better find a damn good babysitter soon.

Carrying a baby is harder than it looks. 

Bradley swears that his daughter is an eighty-year-old woman trapped in the body of a drooly and overly excitable eleven-month-old.

It's not the worst thing in the world, he figures. 

But God, is she giving his arms a workout from the amount of times she’s tried to contort her small body to get a good look at all the ruckus and excitement going on around her. It’s when Bradley feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck that he realizes the costume he’s picked may not have been the smartest move; especially when no one seems to get what he’s supposed to be. 

Secreting sweat by the gallon seems like an unfair exchange to be dressed in what he thinks is the greatest daddy-daughter costume of all time. The flannel shirt he has on and the overwhelmingly hot coveralls to go with it was a good idea in theory (that theory being how frigid the Halloweens he used to spend in northern Virginia were when he was a little kid). 

He finally makes it to the saloon-style doors of the bar and is met with “Thriller” by Michael Jackson playing from the overhead speakers above him. Every surface seems to be decked out in cobwebs and dark purple and neon green spiders, and Quincy stares in awe at all the patrons meddling about around her before making grabby hands at the faux snakes dangling around the jukebox. 

She almost slips out of Bradley’s grasp before being wrangled back to a stable position by her chunky rolled arms. 

“Jesus, girl,” he gasps, swallowing the lump in his throat while Quincy giggles in his face. “You tryna kill me here?” 

“Well look who it is!” Penny’s teasing voice sounds in his ears. 

Quincy’s little eyes catch the figure of her faux grandma and she begins to squeal in her father’s ear before reaching her arms as far out as they can go; reaching and moving so frantically it looks as if she’s attempting to swim in midair. 

Penny moves closer to them and raises her eyebrows. Her arms instinctively reach out and she grabs Quincy from Bradley. Her fingers trace the burgundy felt of her costume before she tickles the baby. Quincy erupts in a fit of laughs. 

“What has your crazy daddy got you dressed as?” she teases, her elbow coming out to knock Bradley in his ribs playfully. “Are you an. . .apple?” 

Bradley huffs and rolls his eyes. His gaze instinctively lands on his daughter who clasps her hands on Penny’s face and traces her chubby (and insanely sticky) baby fingers across her red lips. She puckers her lips and chuckles to herself at Quincy’s amazement of red lipstick. 

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” 

Penny’s eyes flicker between Bradley and the baby she holds in her arms. The splotchy rosy cheeks and honeyed hazel eyes tells the tale of twins, and she’s reminded of the little boy she used to casually see around Fightertown all those years ago dressed in different variants of the same dinosaur on Halloween. 

“Sweetheart, you’re saying it like it was the most obvious thing in the world,” she starts, simultaneously giving her attention to Quincy and the million and one different things going on around her, “I almost thought she was one of the cement balls outside of Target but realized the red was too dark.” 

He groans, his eyebrows furrowing together and a slight scowl forming on his face. Penny’s heart is warmed because his daughter has a propensity to make the same face when she’s frustrated. 

A beat absent of dialouge passes. Hoots and hollers fill the silence as well as strangers stopping by to coo at Quincy before being on their way to the pool table of their desire. Quincy babbles and talks as if she’s a lawyer prosecuting a case and Bradley’s heart softens at how animated she is. 

Her awkward tongue pushes out more saliva than what would be socially acceptable and the drool begins to gather on her face. He reaches out and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of his flannel while she flops like a dead fish away from the makeshift napkin in protest. 

God, this girl is so dramatic. 

“I handmade it,” he says softly. He runs a dry part of his sleeve across her lips more firmly to ensure he had gotten all the wetness. 

Penny hums in acknowledgement. “And you did good.” 

And he doesn’t know why he’s expecting it; why he’s waiting on Penny (of all people) to see him picking a scab and rub more salt in the wound. He knows that she would never do that and he knows that most of the people (if not all of the people who he considers close to him) see him that way. He knows that people know he’s trying his best and that he’s doing everything he can. 

Bradley knows but he just can’t make himself feel it, and he can never figure out why. 

Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad. Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad without a “real” mom or dad to show him the way. Maybe it’s because he’s finally gotten used to having someone around who relies on him and needs him and loves him unconditionally, and he’s terrified of doing something that will make her sit on a couch in a therapist office and say the words that he’s trying his best to avoid: “My dad doesn’t love me enough.” 

Bradley knows what it feels like to not be loved enough. Bradley knows what it feels like to not be liked enough. But Bradley doesn’t know what it feels like to not try hard enough, and that is something he is determined to never stop doing when it comes to his baby. 

“You’re saying it like I didn’t though.” 

Penny’s face falls and she shifts her gaze from Bradley’s daughter to him. 

“Oh, Bradley,” she sighs, her open palm coming up to cup his face, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re an amazing dad and you’re doing a fantastic job.” 

He grabs her hand with his and gives her a weak smile in return. 

“Doesn’t feel like it, though.” 

He’s usually not one for feeling sorry for himself. He’s never been too keen on throwing pity parties and inviting everyone he knows to them, and in all actuality, he doesn’t know why this bid for reassurance that he’s serving Penny is even coming up. 

“No. Stop it. No,” she playfully chides, tickling Quincy to make her erupt into a ball of silent baby chuckles. “You’re an amazing dad and everyone knows it. You’re her world and that’s all that matters.” 

Bradley opens his mouth to respond but can’t find the words to accept her compliment. He simply nods his head before the already loud noise of the bar is split by an even louder whistle. 

His neck cranes around to see his group of friends waving him over to the pool table and the anchored weight of doom starts to sink in his stomach. He remains frozen with his hands in his pockets and his body emitting heat from his personal heater of rubber waders. He feels like a seven year old at the park again; his mother standing before him and wordlessly encouraging him to go play and make friends. 

The high pitched scream of his daughter is heard as Maverick approaches. Both Penny and Bradley wince more and watch as his daughter mindlessly babbles and almost flies out of Penny’s grasp in favor of him. 

Pete smiles to himself before grabbing her from Penny. She rolls her eyes at him and he playfully sticks out his tongue. 

“Like father, like daughter,” he says, “M’never not a Bradshaw kid’s favorite.” Quincy sticks her chubby fingers near Maverick’s mouth and squeals as he pretends to bite them. 

“Did the past fifteen years just. . .not happen?” Bradley quips. In the past, the snarky comment would have made Maverick freeze on the spot but since they’ve repaired their relationship, (and Quincy’s frequent stays at Nana Pen and Papa Mav’s on the weekends) the insult rolls off Maverick’s shoulders into oblivion. 

“You’re making fun of the old timer, but I’ve been havin’ myself a grand ole time and you’re in the corner pouting like you’re in timeout,” he comments back, “Don’t you have friends or something?” 

“I’m just – taking my time to get over there.” They all look as Jake lets out an obnoxiously loud holler after hitting the eight ball into the pocket to win his pool game. “M’trying to choose joy tonight.” 

“And choosing bad costumes too.” Maverick holds his granddaughter out in front of him to get a full fledged look at her costume. She kicks her legs in the air gleefully before he pulls her back to his chest. “Who makes their kid the…Target balls?” 

Bradley lets out a groan and rubs at his temples. “Oh my God! She’s a cranberry!” 

“Love you to pieces, kid but I think you need your vision checked. You can’t put a kid inside a red sphere and call it a cranberry,” his finger comes out to poke his granddaughter and he’s met with a giggle, “A quack doesn’t always mean duck.” 

“Aren’t you, like, 5’4 –” 

Penny interrupts the conversation with her hands and quickly grabs Quincy from Maverick’s hold. He flashes her a small pout and is met with the ice cold glare of his girlfriend. 

“Bradley, go talk to your friends, babe. We’ll bring her over in a second,” she says, squeezing Pete’s bicep to drag him with her to the bar. 

“But –” they both begin to complain in unison. Penny gives them a pointed look that immediately shuts them both up. 

“Let’s go get some cranberry juice! How does that sound?” she asks Quincy who begins to smile and clap her hands in approval. Penny turns on her heel to head to the back while Maverick stands frozen in front of his nephew. 

“Do you really think I’m only 5’4?” he meekly asks, genuine concern covering his face. 

Bradley shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. The paper  “Ocean Spray” label he’s taped onto his waders bends and he mentally cringes at the crease he knows will probably be there. 

“I mean, sometimes when you turn to the side it’s hard to imagine that you’re actually 5’7.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“I said, let’s go get some juice!” Penny’s yells, annoyance dripping off her tone. Maverick claps Bradley on the shoulder before retreating to go accompany Penny in getting Quincy copious amounts of diluted cranberry juice. 

With Maverick’s departure, Bradley realizes that he actually has to go interact with his friends. After all, they’re the reason that he’s here. But when he takes in the swell and dip of the loudness that is contingent on the World Series playing on the televisions around him, he wonders if he’s made the wrong choice tonight. 

He imagines that he would’ve taken Quincy up the street to trick or treat at a few houses before her impatience and curiosity made her lose interest in the activity. They would have abandoned trick or treating and ended up on the couch where she would be cuddled up beside him with her feet tucked somewhere in between his ribs (because she seems to have a talent for finding the most tender spots on his body to lay) and stroking the tip of his mustache with her perpetually sticky fingers as she begins to doze off. They would be probably watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown before her bedtime came, and she would be read three books, tucked in, and off to sleep before he caved and pulled her from her crib and let her sleep with him in his bed. 

While it’s mundane and certainly not what he would have considered the epitome of “fun” even two years ago, he feels a weird ache in his chest knowing that he’s missing out on that reality. But he has to snap out of it if he doesn’t want to be miserable and ruin everyone’s night. 

Besides, Jake and Nat promised him free drinks all night and they already found him a babysitter and paid her for him. He’s in too deep to back out now.

Bradley takes a deep breath before approaching his friends and tries to ignore the ringing in his ears as Jake and Mickey scream as the Texas Rangers score their first homerun of the game. 

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Reuben teases, forcing a beer into his hand that had been on standby until Bradley’s arrival. 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too excited,” he deadpans before moving around the group and telling everyone hello. 

He’s met with joy and little jabs about graduating to “old timer” status that he playfully ignores. Bradley knows that they’re all just joking with him and that they mean no harm by their comments. Even he’s slightly surprised that he went through with coming out tonight; not to mention coming out while wearing a costume. 

His eyes catch Jake slyly handing over a twenty dollar bill to Javy accompanied by a middle finger before he turns his attention to Bradley. 

He can already sense the half-assed greeting he’s about to get from him before Jake even begins to speak. 

“Got a lot of questions for you but I’ll start with this one,” Jake begins and Bradley rolls his eyes before he finishes his statement, “What the fuck are you supposed to be?” 

He groans before pointing to the crumpled “Ocean Spray” label taped to his front. “Fucking Christ. Does no one know where the fuck cranberry juice comes from?” 

Jake laughs before taking a long swig of his beer. His ridiculous belt buckle and cowboy boots tell Bradley exactly what he’s supposed to be. Well, that and the fact that for as long as he’s known Jake, he’s always the same thing every year for Halloween. 

Leave the Texan to always be a cowboy. 

“My first guess was one of the guys from “Deadliest Catch” but since you wanna be a diva about it. . .I’ll just pretend like the Ocean Spray farmer was beyond fuckin’ obvious” he takes a long swig from the beer bottle he has in his hand, “But that’s not important. Where’s our girl?”

Bradley sighs and looks around near the back of the bar where he knows his baby is being given the spotlight by all the older Hard Deck patrons that can’t believe that, “Little Bradley Bradshaw has a baby now!” He’s known that he’s always had a knack for attention, but his daughter lives for the limelight. He’s never known anyone in his life to be so incredibly outgoing, nevermind the fact that Quincy is already the life of the party and she can’t even speak coherently yet. 

“Pen and Mav took her to get cranberry juice,” he emphasizes the word and Jake rolls his eyes at him this time instead of the reverse, “They’re gonna bring her by in a bit.” 

Natasha makes her way over to the two men; extra smiley and smelling like she had bathed in tequila. Natasha always parties hard but never lets it keep her down. Her ability to drink liquor like a fish and be perfectly fine the next morning has always been a mystery to Bradley. She’s called Phoenix for a reason, he knows. 

“Bradley!” she cheers. Her dark hair is hidden by a copper colored wig and he almost wouldn’t recognize her if he hadn’t known her face so well. The green eye makeup and the plastic vines wrapped around her shoulders and legs cue him into the fact that she’s dressed up as Poison Ivy.  

“Hey!” he cheers back, matching her enthusiasm. 

“You’re the fisher guys from “Deadliest Catch”! That’s so clever!” 

Bradley’s face drops and Jake begins to lose his composure beside him. Natasha’s eyes immediately soften with worry and she starts to search for the words to profusely apologize. 

“No I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings! I swear it! I was just – I thought — I think that it’s really cool and the overall thingies look great on you! I’m so sorry,” she word vomits and Jake continues to laugh hysterically. 

“Nat, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” he speaks gently, “Just calm down a little.” 

She takes a deep breath and Bradley can physically see her brain wipe the incident away as if it had never happened. He’s been her best friend for years and knows what she looks like when she’s close to being black out drunk. There’s maybe a thirty-five percent chance she even remembers this interaction at all. She blinks blankly at him before getting distracted by the baseball game and almost topples over with how fast she turned her head. 

Jake lightly smacks Bradley’s chest with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna go grab her a water. You want anything?” he asks, gently. He doesn’t want Natasha to overhear him because they both know that she’ll refuse his help no matter what state she’s in. 

He shakes his head “no” before hearing the clunk of his boots carrying him to the bar, leaving him and Natsaha alone in the pocket of the bar that their friend group has claimed as their own.

Natasha’s eyes follow Jake’s path to the bar and Bradley has to hide his grin and hold his tongue to not set her off while she’s so vulnerable. Natasha has always been the tiniest bit sweet on Jake but is too stubborn to admit it. Even with all the logical circuits in her brain turned off, she refuses to let herself ponder on this fact for longer than a few seconds. She catches herself staring at the blonde in a half-assed Halloween costume before she returns her attention to Bradley. 

And just as expected, she changes the subject as if their earlier conversation had never even happened. 

“Where’s Quincy Wincey?” she asks and Bradley chuckles. 

Even with no coherent thoughts in mind, Natasha still loves his daughter and wants nothing more than to see her. 

“She’s behind the bar with Pen and Mav. She’ll be here shortly.” 

Natasha nods before opening her mouth again. “You know, you’re a great dad, B.” 

Her sudden revelation takes the words out of Bradley’s mouth. He’s known Natasha Trace for nearly fifteen years and he has never known her to give out genuine compliments half-assed. He has half the mind to ask her what she means by it, but knows that it’s no use given the state she’s in. 

All that matters is that she really means it, so he settles for a simple “Thank you” instead. 

Jake announces his return by forcing a cup of ice water into Natasha’s hand which she gripes about but begins to drink anyway. 

“Your daughter’s back there chummin’ it up, by the way,” Jake states simply and Bradley pauses. 

“What do you mean?” His hands come out to rest on his hips. 

“Well, for starters,” he begins, unwrapping a toothpick and putting it in his mouth, “She’s got people handing her candy and peanuts into a little paper bag. She’s being pretty efficient about it if I say so myself. Had half the mind to grab her from Mav while I was up there cause I wanna see her, but I didn’t wanna get in the way of her business efforts.” 

“She’s what?” 

“Paper bag. Candy. Peanuts,” Jake lists, “C’mon, man. Keep up!” 

Bradley stalks toward the bar to go get his daughter. He’s not angry, in any sense of the word, but kind of disappointed given that she’s technically trick or treating for the first time and he’s not there to witness it. Part of him is starting to feel restless at his lack of interaction with her and wants her back in his arms immediately. 

“Hey, don’t insert yourself in her business endeavors! Be happy your daughter is likable. We all know she doesn’t get it from you,” Jake shouts before returning his attention to the World Series playing out in front of him. 

By the time Bradley arrives to the bar top, he takes note of exactly what Jake had seen upon his visit. There is his daughter with ruddy cheeks and a toothy grin absolutely hamming up her cuteness at some captains and their wives with Maverick holding her up so she can stand semi-confidently on the table. Her little fist holds a brown paper bag that Penny uses for her peanuts and is full with candy and crinkled due to her lack of a proper graspar reflex. 

His daughter is a world class charmer and she has an equally charming grandpa to help her do her bidding. 

“Bradley!” Maverick cheers, turning Quincy his direction so that she can have eyes on her dad. 

Like magic, she abandons the little bag she was holding in favor of the arms of her father. He grabs her without hesitation and she glues herself to his side as if it’s her permanent position. 

“You better not be making my baby a con artist, Mav,” he weakly threatens. He coos at Quincy and marvels in the way she lays her head on his shoulder. 

“Hardly. She’s a people magnet, kid. Everyone would be happy to do anything she wanted them to do.” 

Bradley sighs, knowing that he’s missed one of her milestones. This is the price he’ll have to pay forever with being a more than single parent with the kind of job he has. He swallows the disappointment down and saves it for later. He knows that it’ll come up another time anyway, so why even bother with addressing it now? 

“You’re treating my kid like a Kennedy, Mav. Don’t get any ideas on how to sneak her onto base to get you out of trouble.” 

Pete laughs and holds up his hands in defeat. “Can’t make any promises,” he simply says, “Don’t you have to go meet the sitter soon?” 

Bradley groans at the gentle reminder his uncle is giving him. Maverick doesn’t know what it’s like to be a parent in the slightest, but he knows what good parenting looks like. He had seen it with Goose and how much he had cared for Bradley in the very short amount of time he was given, there’s no doubt in his mind that Bradley is the best dad that Quincy could ever ask for. 

But what he also knows is how perfectionistic and borderline obsessive his nephew can be. He deserves a break and a break Maverick knows will be spent in good company with people who love him. 

Bradley deserves this, and he knows that Mav’s gentle reminder is more of an order telling him to be kind to himself. 

He looks down at his watch and sees the little hand inching towards the eight. “Yeah. We need to get going.” 

Pete leans over and gives Quincy a kiss on the head as a “goodbye” before shoving the paper bag of candy into her father’s hand. 

He closes his hand around Bradley’s fist and gives it a firm shake. “Have fun tonight. You deserve it.” 

Bradley nods before bidding goodbye to Penny who is beyond excited at the idea of Bradley finally going out, baby free, for the first time since he found out he was going to be a father. 

And when his daughter incoherently hums along to “The Girl is Mine” by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney in the backseat, Bradley knows how hard leaving her alone tonight is truly going to be. 

She shouts at him which he knows is her trying to get his attention to sing along with her. 

“You ready, babe?” he asks, eyes flitting up to peek at her in his rearview mirror, “Because, the doggone girl is mine.” 

Quincy bursts into a fit of baby giggles as he tries to ignore the feeling of impending doom brewing in his chest. He grabs a piece of chalky bubble gum from her candy bag and pops it in his mouth. He cringes as he chews. 

Who the fuck gives gum to a baby? 

Bradley doesn’t know why his heart is pounding out of his chest. 

He knows that he’ll only be gone for two hours maximum and that Quincy will probably sleep the entire time anyway. She may be precocious and charming, but she loves bedtime more than anything, and from the active night she’s had, he’d be surprised if she even made it fifteen minutes before passing out somewhere on the living room floor. 

He trusts Natasha’s judgement (and Jake’s, he’ll begrudantly admit) and he knows the sitter they found for him is nothing less than amazing. You’re a childhood friend of Natasha’s that had recently moved to the area and had been Jake’s date one time to the Navy Ball six years ago (which he had learned from an Instagram post dated from 2017). 

And Bradley will say he doesn’t know much about you (outside of his deep dive stalk that he had done days before, but that remains beside the point, he thinks) but that would be a big fat lie. He feels a little pathetic to admit that he had created a faux LinkedIn profile to be able to look you up and see your credentials as well as finding every mutual follower you had amassed between Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Bob. 

And it’s a little creepy, he admits, but he’s only just looking out for the safety of his daughter! Just because you know his friends doesn’t mean that he knows you (which he knows is wildly untrue given the overwhelming amount of Internet stalking he had done on you in the past week). 

Bradley is burning a hole into his living room floor by pacing back and forth with his daughter in his arms. As anticipated, she’s started to doze off and he chuckles to himself. Quincy loves bedtime and that remains uncontested by the way her little lips are pursed and she lets out light snores. 

The sound of a car door opening and shutting keys him into being aware of your presence and he scares you half to death because he opens the door before you can knock; your knuckles almost coming into contact with his chin had you not been paying attention. 

“Oh,” you mummer, “Ummm. You’re Bradley, right?” 

And you’ve never felt as dumb as you do now because of course he’s Bradley. You know what he looks like and the baby asleep on his shoulder and the last name “Bradshaw” printed on the doormat outside should be enough for you to deductively reason that that’s him right in front of you. 

Not to mention, you’ve been Internet stalking him and know what he looks like for a fact because of the amount of photos Natasha has of him on her Instagram and in her story highlights. You had always found him attractive whenever your eyes graced those pictures, but that’s all it was; a fleeting thought that was never watered and was gone as soon as it was there. 

But now that he’s in front of you, now that you’re getting a really good look at him holding a precious baby on his hip and somehow making rubber waders look amazing, your mouth starts to get dry and your heartbeat starts to quicken. 

“You must be the sitter,” he declares and he mentally kicks himself for how cold he’s coming off. His nerves have a tendency to put him into fight or flight and the pressure of being in your presence merely adds to that. 

He clears his throat when he notices your lips forming a thin line and rejection teeming from your body language. 

Fuck. Why do I always do this? 

“Oh! Uh – Come in,” he steps aside and closes the door behind you as you walk in. 

From what you know about Bradley, you know that he’s a single dad who had a less than stellar record for wanting female companionship. When Nat would come to Williamsburg to visit you all those years ago when you were fresh out of undergrad and working as a TA, barely scraping enough money to pay your rent, she would lay on your floor and crone about how she had a friend who never seemed to be able to keep a girlfriend. 

But he was amazing, she would insist, and he’s such an awesome person, she would say. Somehow though, Bradley always seemed to be heartbroken and searching for the next way to smash what little he had left of it into unsalvageable pieces. 

Even though that was close to a decade ago, you know that the fact remains true when you peer across the pictures in his living room. Photos of a blonde couple and a dark haird little boy that you know are his parents. Photos of him with the infamous and insane Maverick. Photos of him with his daughter, but no photos of him and his daughter’s mother; let alone a girlfriend of any kind. 

“So she’ll probably sleep the entire time. Don’t put her in her crib because she’ll scream bloody murder and not calm down for a long time so you’re free to keep her on the couch or put her in my bed,” he lays her down in the corner of his couch and puts the large blanket laying there on her lower half, “She’s allergic to strawberries but I don’t think she’s gonna be eating anything while you’re here and I don’t have strawberries in the house.” 

He pauses, wracking his brain for more information to tell you that wouldn’t just be him retelling his daughter’s entire life story. “Oh! This is kind of weird, but if she wakes up and won’t go back to sleep, just play “The Girl is Mine” –” 

“The Paul McCartney song?” you question. Your eyes search his face and are full of amusement. He can’t help but feel his chest flutter at the little glimmer they give off. 

Focus. You can’t flirt with the babysitter. What’s wrong with you? 

“Well, it’s Michael Jackson’s song featuring Paul McCartney but yeah. It usually calms her right down and she’ll settle enough to doze back off.”  

He knows that his daughter is more than quirky. Sometimes he settles for the word “particular,” but he knows quirky is the right one to use. 

You start to laugh a little. “That’s so –” 

“Weird?” he inserts, “Yeah, I know. I’m raising a sixty-year-old but there could be worse songs. Be grateful she’s phased out of only wanting to listen to “Break Free” because there’s nothing worse than listening to EDM on a loop at three AM because she won’t fall asleep unless it’s playing.” 

You shake your head and agree. “Well, I promise that we’ll behave ourselves and not get into anything too crazy. She’s adorable, you know, so if she asks, I don’t know if I can stand it to say no.”

You can’t flirt with her dad. You can’t be the babysitter that’s trying to get banged by the dad. What’s wrong with you? 

He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll see to that. Her sitter is pretty cute too so I think I’d be pretty forgiving.” 

And fuck. Is he, is he flirting with you? 

You’re left speechless before his phone rings and he rolls his eyes before grabbing it off the entryway table. 

“Hang on a sec,” he says before swiping across the screen to answer. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Jake. I’m on the way.” 

He grabs his keys and starts heading toward the door, his cell phone wedged between his shoulder and ear and you have to stop yourself from drooling. “Calm the fuck down, dude. I’m leaving like right now. . .Yes, I’m literally walking out the door – Can you chill? I’ll be there when I get there?” 

He bids you goodbye with a simple wave before shutting the door and running to his car. The sound of the front door closing instantly wakes Quincy who shoots her head up and frantically swivels it around in pursuit of her father. When she can’t spot him, her bottom lip droops and starts to wobble. 

He bids you goodbye with a simple wave before shutting the door and running to his car. The sound of the front door closing instantly wakes Quincy who shoots her head up and frantically swivels it around in pursuit of her father. When she can’t spot him, her bottom lip droops and starts to wobble. 

She spots you and immediately lifts her arms up, telling you that she wants to be held. You graciously comply and coo softly to her and marvel in the way she instantly koalas to your side as if she had always had a spot there and had always known you. 

Part of you thinks that it’s fate. That in some way, you’re meant to be in her life and meant to stick around but you know that this silly schoolgirl thinking will only get your heart smashed to pieces. You decide to ignore it. 

Besides, Natasha would kill you if you ever expressed to her how hot you found her other best friend. 

Some things just aren’t meant to be. 

Bradley jogs into the next bar that his friends had decided to go to with a slight smile on his face. He scans the crowd and spots Jake and Bob trying to hold up a beyond inebriated Natasha. 

“You’re awful happ — Oh dear God. Don’t tell me you screwed the sitter,”  Jake greets and Bob looks away bashfully once the statement leaves Jake’s mouth. 

Bradley mocks him before helping them guide Natasha to a booth. 

“Can you ever just say "hello" like a normal person? Do you always have to be bitchy?” he remarks. 

Jake lets Natasha rest her head on his shoulder and looks down to check on her. “It was just a comment. You know we picked her because we wanna set you guys up, right?” 

Bradley’s world stops. He raises his eyebrows and feels his mouth go dry. 

“You what?” 

“I mean, she’s cute. She’s smart. She loves kids and she obviously didn’t vom on you from getting a look at your face, so I assume it went well,” he starts listing his reasonings on his fingers, “You also bounced in here like you have a can of jumping beans shoved up your ass so you’re giddy about something.” 

Bradley scoffs. “I do not have anything shoved up my a– Why do you care so much about who I’m seeing?” 

Jake looks at Bob who starts to shrink a little in his seat. He instantly knows that the set up wasn’t all just Jake and Nat. It was probably the entire squadron. 

“We want you to be happy, dude. I mean, this is a good opportunity for you and for Quincy,” Bob starts and Bradley knows that he needs to listen and take it into actual consideration if he knows what’s good for him. 

Jake and Natasha are class A meddlers, but everyone else getting involved shows how much this matters to him.

“You’re doing great and I know for a fact I’m not half the man you are, but you also gotta cut yourself some slack. You have to let yourself be happy, too. Life isn’t all just about sacrifice, you know?” 

“And we made a reservation for you both at that one rooftop restaurant downtown. There’s a $250 cancellation fee so you kinda have to go,” Jake adds and Bob facepalms himself at their friend’s lack of tact. 

“You did what?” 

“Also she thinks you’re hot. She texted Nat about you ten minutes ago and she’s way too drunk to respond so we did for her and as of now, “He totes thinks you’re hot too. Make a move when he gets back.”” 

Bradley’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the words to say. 

“Thank us when you’re getting us together about the proposal.” 

There’s something about the way that life flashes before your eyes and there’s never anything you can do about it. 

You can take photos or collect trivial keepsakes. You can talk about the events in past tense and have the story change slightly every single time the words leave your mouth. You can dream about it in watercolor memory and try to make sense of it all. 

But no one ever tells you what it means when you’re standing before your daughter, a dark haired beauty with such elegance and spunk that it’s impossible to put a label on it, as she embarks on a journey to truly be her own person. 

No one ever tells you how to cry so you don’t smudge your mascara. No one ever tells you the hole in your heart this day will give you but the rainbow of joy that supersedes it when it’s all said and done. No one ever tells you how all the times she had a nightmare or scraped her knees or needed you sit at the forefront of your brain. 

And when you stand before your daughter dressed in a white dress and getting married to the love of her life, you can’t help but recall the night that you fell in love with her and remember the little baby she was all those years ago. 

So around all the orchids and wedding guests and happy tears, you settle to retell this moment in the only way you know how. 

“The first time I met my daughter, she was dressed as a cranberry.” 

And somehow, that statement is all you need to explain the love between the two of you. 

#when am i ever on time for posting #but happy late halloween and happy meeting bradley's daughter day!!! #patiently waiting for quincy to become more iconic than bradley on this blog tbh #anyway #i can talk about bradley being a girl dad for ages so best believe more of this duo is in the works #bradley bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster #rooster x you #top gun #top gun maverick #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw fic #dadley dadshaw if we're being completely honest

[veroniquesboutique]

Shooting Blanks - Suguru Geto x Reader

Your boyfriend Suguru Geto gets a Prince Albert piercing and makes you wait the whole 6 weeks before you can sleep with him again. You take advantage when the wait is over.

Title: Shooting Blanks

Rating: Explicit

Warnings:

AFAB!Reader, Female Reader, Explicit PV Sex, m-Overstimulation, light bondage, cum shot, creampie, cum eating, Oral Sex f-receiving, multiple orgasms, piercings, pet names (baby & darling mostly) m-Masturbation, consensual voyeurism

Characters & ships: boyfriend!Suguru Geto x Reader

Word count: 4.2k words

18+ Minors DNI!

More explicit below the cut

6 weeks. You had to wait 6 whole weeks to have sex with your beautiful boyfriend, Suguru Geto, as his newest piercing healed. Those weeks were very, very long, and when you received the calendar notification that your waiting period was up today, you almost left work early to greet him at the apartment, but he beat you to it, texting you as you were gathering your things to stay put because he was going to be home late, and it wasn’t worth using the sick time. So you sat down and got absolutely no work done for the next few hours as drool pooled in your mouth thinking about the terrible things you were going to do to him when you got home.

He beats you to it, though, because as you finally get home and slip your shoes off at the door, your boyfriend sidles up behind you and covers your eyes with his large, masculine hands. You hum in enjoyment, leaning back against his chest to feel his body against yours. It’s so warm, and he hulks over and around you, encapsulating your body in his wide stance. He smells of syrupy vanilla and smoky bourbon and shampoo in his long black hair wisping over his shoulders, over your shoulders, tickling your nose as he leans in close to your neck and breaths in deep.

“Hello, my love,” He murmurs, a smile on his lips pressed against the soft skin of your neck, and your body is practically vibrating in anticipation because 6 weeks is the longest amount of time, you think. It must be because it feels like an eternity since you last had him thrusting roughly into you, and the thought alone makes your knees weak.

“Hello,” You purr back, attempting to turn to him to make eye contact, but he follows your movements, keeping his hands covering your vision the whole time, “Something specific you’re hiding from me?”

“Just a surprise,” His voice is already slick with want, deep and rumbling and warm just like the heat radiating from his body.

“I love surprises.”

“I know,” He whispers before slowly starting to lead you into the bedroom you two share. Your steps are slow and shuffling as you try to avoid the corners of furniture that frequently like to bruise your shins, but finally, he sits you down on the bed. He blocks your view, towering above you, and he shimmies his tie off from around his neck. The silky, thin fabric shines in the lamplight as he reaches around you and binds your wrists together. You smile up at him; this territory is familiar, and after this long, anything this kinky is going to finish you in mere minutes.

“This is my kind of evening,” You whisper, starting to lean back, but he grabs you by the top of your head and sits you back upright. He is strong, he is stern, not forceful but commanding.

“You stay here. Sitting like this.” It’s an order, not an ask, so you sit up a little straighter and lick your lips. He finally moves out of your way, and sitting in front of the bed is a single chair. You can’t help but scrunch your face in confusion.

“What are you going to do?”

“You’ll see,” He teases, slowly undoing the buttons on his shirt with one of his hands and grinning at the torture he’s putting you through. You whine a little in desperation and frustration, but when the shirt falls from his shoulders and he flexes just for you, turning at the waist briefly to show off his back, you fall silent in awe. He chuckles and unbuttons his pants and lets them slip to the floor.

Geto is not wearing any underwear underneath.

His cock stands at attention before you, and you gasp, slurping up the drool dripping from your lips, locking eyes with the shiny new appliance adorning the tip of his impressive length.

The look of this piercing against his tan skin is not, on paper, surprising to you. He has other piercings - his earlobes have been done since high school, he said, and he had a lip piercing when you first met him, and he was bragging about how he had gotten his nipples done on your first date. These embellishments to his already perfect skin made him even more irresistible.

This piercing, however, makes a record scratch in your brain. It is beautiful, hugging the tip of his cock like your tongue does when it’s in your mouth, and it makes you want to rub your fingers against it, rub your tongue against it, feel it pressed against your most sensitive bits because he promised he’d do that when he told you he was going to be getting his Prince Albert done and needed a 6 week recovery window without temptation.

He smiles when he sees your eyes locked on his prize. “You like it?”

“I want it,” You whine out, shifting your weight on the bed as the heat starts to build between your legs. What is he doing? Why hasn’t he ripped your skirt, pushed it up to your waist, and slammed right into you?

“Ah, ah,” Geto teases, and finally you peel your eyes up to his, and they are looking awfully mischievous right now. “You are going to watch.”

“Watch?” You ask in disbelief. He wants you to just watch? Has he even seen himself? Does he know how hard that is?

“Watch,” He commands again, letting the words drip like hot honey off his tongue as he sits in the chair, legs spread facing you, his length already hard and dripping and bouncing off his toned abs. Your eyes are glued to his cock, and his eyes are glued to the absolutely crazed look on your face as his hand comes up to grip himself. His thighs tense at just that touch, and a shiver rips through him. “It’s been a while for me too, darling.”

He brings his hand slowly up his length, and he lets his head drop back, and you finally take in all of his body before you. His jaw is tense, and as he gulps down a breath of air, you watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and it takes everything in your power to not sink your teeth into his neck. His chest is flushed red, and his arms and shoulder keep tensing as he slowly fists himself. His thighs - his beautiful, thick thighs - stretch out wider, and you have full view as his fingers travel up and down his length, a slick noise from the movements making your body ache for him.

He lets his thumb brush against the piercing, and the feeling sends a shock through him, his neck tensing.

“Does it feel good, baby?” You coo, watching him for a reaction, and he groans, rolling out his neck and brushing against it again.

“So, so good.”

“Am I going to get to watch you cum?” You ask, your voice dark and daring, and he pushes his hips up into his hands with another groan

“You’re supposed to be watching not talking.”

You grin, knowing you’re getting him all worked up. “I just want to taste it, baby. I just want to taste it so bad.” He lets out a softer moan at your words, and his hand speeds up, rubbing over his tip and all the way down his length, and his other hand is gripping the seat of the chair. “Please won’t you let me taste you?”

“You’ll get what you want soon,” He breathes out, lolling his head back up to look at you through his eyelashes. A blush has covered his face as well, his hair sticking to a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, and his eyes are glued to yours. You bite your lip and nod softly.

“I need it. I need you to fill me up, Suguru. Please, please come fuck me,” You beg, and you watch his pupils dilate and shrink. His grip tightens, and you see the veins throb in his cock in his hand as he drips all over his own fingers.

“Do you really need me?”

“Yes, yes, yes, I need you. Ruin me, I need you to ruin my body,” You coax, sitting up on your knees, your eyes flitting back down to his length as he pulses, throbs, twitches in his hand. The tip has become a beautiful violet color, sticky and wet with his mess, and his own eyes flutter close as his breathing stutters. “I want all of it, baby.”

Suddenly, he stands, kicking the chair out from underneath him, and he’s beside you in seconds. He still fists his cock with one hand, but with the other, he pushes you down on your back and slides you to just the right angle under him on the side of the bed. Placing one foot on the bed and the other firmly on the floor, he leans his head back, pushes his hips forward, and lets himself cum.

It douses your body, clinging to your neck and collarbone, the thin fabric of your shirt, staining your skirt, dripping onto the sheets from where it hit your arm, it’s in your hair, and somehow, none of it landed on your tongue, sticking out enticingly, and you are just a little furious.

The anger melts away seconds later when he’s pushing your skirt up to your waist, pulling your panties off in a singular swift movement, pulling your shirt up over your face, pushing your legs wide apart, and burying his cock to the hilt in you with no resistance. You call out, arching your back at the sudden feeling of fullness, but his softening cock hardens right back up inside you, and you can suddenly feel his new piercing pressing against your G spot like its a doorbell, and your tongue goes stupid. You can’t even think it all feels so good.

“Is that what you wanted?” He groans in your ear, enveloping your body with his, and he thrusts once experimentally, and the cry that rips from your throat at how nice it feels after so long would be embarrassing if your legs weren’t already shaking with pleasure. You’re lost in the foggy haze of arousal, unable to say anything to Suguru, simply panting into his mouth as his lips find yours, sucking on your tongue as he starts to pound into you.

“I….need….you…” You moan out of your mouth between hiccups as his hips ram into yours, and your brain turns to mushy white noise each time his tip hits deep into you, spasming all of your muscles into what might be the best orgasm you will ever have.

“You have me, darling, you have me,” He whispers comfortingly into your ear. You arch your back, your jaw wretched and frozen open as you try to pull in air. With an uncontrollable need to get him to fuck you deeper, harder, rougher, more more more, you wrap your legs around his waist and push him into you, and it makes him chuckle so deep in your ear that it vibrates your spine and you have to grip the sheets with your still bound hands to keep yourself tethered to the moment.

“More, please, more,” You moan, desperate, and he obliges, pulling your legs up so your knees are to your shoulders, and this new angle splits you open. You have never felt this full before, and at this point, you’re past an orgasm. Your brain is melting out your ears as your pussy throbs around him, and it pushes him on, slamming into you harder and faster, and your bound hands can finally claw at his thighs under you, leaving red angry marks as you try to pull him even closer

“I’m going to cum again,” He grunts, gripping your hips even harder, and you nod, bobbling your head dumbly at his words

“Inside me, please, please.”

That’s all it takes for him to lose it, and you feel him sputter inside you, pouring himself into you, warming you from the inside, melting you, and makes your toes curl. His face is scrunched in pleasure, and his fingers are gripping you so hard that they’ll leave bruises, but it doesn’t matter because the look on his face leaves you needing even more.

“Again, please, more,” You beg, and it breaks his concentration on the pleasure pulsing through his veins.

“I don’t know if I can go again-” He starts, leaning back, but you push up onto your knees and interrupt him.

“I am going to milk you dry, Suguru,” You declare, determined, as you push him back onto the bed, his head lolling off the end.

“Wait, love, hold-” But you cut him off as you settle in his lap, taking his again softening length and settling it between your slick slit before grinding against him. His piercing is now brushing against your neglected clit, and it feels like your body is on fire with the lightning electricity dancing across your skin at every touch. You can feel his cum dripping out of you and onto him, and when he moans, he looks back up at you with pain and pleasure covering his face, his teeth biting into his bottom lip so hard that it might draw blood. “It’s too much,” He whispers, but you can’t stop yourself.

“I need to fuck you again, Suguru, please, I need more.” You feel your begging work as he lengthens, hardens, grows in your wetness, and you sit up on your knees, and when you guide him into you, Suguru’s hands shoot up to your waist with a cry.

“Gentle, please.”

“Okay, baby, yes, gentle,” You nod, you agree, you babble, but your hips say otherwise as you bounce up and down on his length, speeding up when you hear him whimper and moan and whine beneath you because it is simply too much for both of you. His legs tremble, and you settle into his lap again, grinding against him so you can rub your clit against his pelvic bone and feel him kiss your cervix and you’re wild with how badly you want to cum. “Use your hands, please, please, please-”

And he obliges, taking the thumb of his free hand to press against your clit, and you clench around him in response, and when you see the tears start to bubble in his eyes, it just urges you forward, grinding against him at as punishing a speed as your hips could manage. Your walls are spasming with pleasure, and it ripples up his length, and you can feel his heartbeat inside you. Your pants melt to moans, loud loud moans of his name and curses and pleading for him to make you cum. His cheeks are bright red, so pretty, and his hair is sticking to his wet skin all over his body, and his breathing is harsh as you push him closer and closer to an edge.

“I can’t cum anymore,” He groans, and the bite of his nails in the flesh of your hip is delectable.

“I can,” You let out a soft giggle, and his ab muscles contract at the sound. “I haven’t even once!”

“My love,” He’s nearly begging now, and you can hear the wobble of overwhelmed tears in his voice, but it makes you wetter, faster, slicker, needier.

“I want you shooting blanks at the end of this,” You purr, and as you arch your back and crane your neck to stare at the ceiling, you reach back with your bound hands and palm at his flesh, dragging your fingers up his inner thighs, near the base of his length, gripping at his balls. His knees stutter, his breathing stops, and you feel a weak release deep inside you again.

However, you still haven’t cum, and as he whimpers below you, all you want is more.

You still on his lap and push out your bottom lip in a pout. “Suguru, more, please more.”

He brings his hand up to your mouth, cutting off your words, and he catches his breath, sniffling and sucking back tears. His chest bounces with his sporadic breath, and when he finally picks his head up, he looks barely there, lost in a fog of sex and pleasure behind his eyes. His arm is weak, shaky, and his legs vibrate underneath you.

“Just give me a moment,” He whispers before slowly slipping three of his fingers into your mouth. You take it greedily, licking at his skin, swallowing him down as far as he’ll go, sucking frantically needing more. He smiles up at you, so soft it slows your heart just a tad, before he shifts underneath you, picks you up, and places you on your back on the bed. Removing his fingers, he slides down your body, spreading your legs and resting his head on your inner thigh to stare at your messy, sloppy core. “Let me clean you up a little.”

You nod, knowing exactly what he means, needing exactly what he means, and when his tongue slowly drags up your skin to your slit for the first time, you writhe into the pillows, gripping the sheets as a new flooding warmth of pleasure courses through you.

Suguru’s cock was great, but his tongue did things no one could dream of. Absolutely magical, mind-boggling things, and as he licked the cum dripping out of your opening, it shot the pleasure you were looking for directly into your brain. He is slow and deliberate with his movements, sticking to cleaning you, making sure to lick every inch of skin he can reach. He presses soft kisses to the sensitive parts of you, and you can’t help but pant like a dog in response, spreading your legs even wider for him to reach.

His tongue swirls inside you, dipping deep, and you grind your hips softly against his face. When you look down your nose to sneak a peek of the action, you match his eyes as he watches your every reaction, and it absolutely ruins you even more to know he’s getting off on pleasuring you. You grip your hands into the sheets behind you, humping harder against his face, and he lets you use him to chase your high.

“Suguru,” You whine out, carrying out the vowel into a high-pitch squeal.

He takes this as a sign you’re close, and it’s when he replaces his tongue with two fingers deep and fast inside you and sucks your clit between his lips that you finally lose it. You feel the waves of orgasm finally overtake your brain, and it rushes out of you from between your legs and all over Geto’s face. Your back arches almost painfully into the feeling, and you press your face into the pillow next to you to drown out the loud cries involuntarily escaping your throat

“That’s it, good girl, just like that,” He moans against you, continuing to lap up the wetness spilling from you, and your body convulses with the feeling until your brain is mushy and content.

Unfortunately for you, Geto wants his payback.

Just as you settle into the feeling of finally, finally being relieved of the throbbing need that had been pestering you for 6 straight weeks, you look down at him between your legs and see him gently stroking himself again.

“You taste so good, my love,” He murmurs, and suddenly, you’ve been flipped on your stomach, and he’s positioning you on your knees and spreading your legs wide to fit his overwhelming presence.

“Again already?” You ask, wiggling your hips enticingly, and he slaps your ass in response.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asked, and you can feel his length prodding against your sensitive hole.

“Aren’t you a little shit?” You mock back, but you take your hands, still stuck behind your back, and spread you ass cheeks apart for easy access. “I’m all yours, baby.”

And he takes that as permission, pushing deep into you again, and it hurts so good that your toes curl immediately and you see stars in your vision as he bottoms out, draping his body over you and fucking into you with relentless speed. You squeak every time he hits deep inside, your mouth stuck open like a doll.

“I…thought…you…were…tired…” You manage between thrusts, and he rumbles laughter into your ear that shakes you straight down to your cunt.

“And then I saw how hot you are. God, you’re fucking irresistible,” He presses open mouth kisses against you back, his lips stinging your back with greed. It’s when he digs his teeth into your back that you can finally feel the gears in your brain turn, and you yelp a little at the pain. You can feel the piercing rubbing against your walls, making your stomach flutter and your toes curl as it pokes and prods.

“I-I like it,” You mumble into the sheets, and when Suguru lightly hums for clarification, you groan it louder. “I like the piercing!” He buries himself deep in you and kisses the soft spot below your ear.

“Good, that was the point.” Another hard thrust. “Touch yourself, darling.”

He barely even had to ask. Your fingers find the bud between your legs, and soon, you’re frantically chasing another orgasm as his hips rocket against yours. Your walls throb in time to his heartbeat in his cock, and if you thought about it for a while, you’d probably think it was romantic, but right now thinking is hard, and it’s probably for the better that the only thing in your brain is just Suguru’s name like a chant to the Gods.

“Fuck, baby, fuck, you feel so good all used like this,” He moans, massaging the flesh of your thighs with his thick fingers, and you can feel the blood rushing to the irritated skin, your nerves sensitive from his manipulation. You press harder against your clit, and your toes curl with need, a wet moan slipping from your lips.

“So big, Suguru, so big,” You mumble, clenching around him to punctuate your thought, and he stutters at the feeling. You turn to see his eyes roll to the back of his head as he gives you a few more thrusts before falling atop you, kissing you, licking at your lips, biting your tongue. His cock spasms inside you, barely leaking the little he has left to give.

The feeling deep inside is victorious, and it helps push you over the edge to your own final orgasm. It has you screaming out, your whole body vibrating with pleasure that turns your vision white before collapsing from your knees. Geto falls atop you as well, careful not the crush you but fully enveloping your much smaller body. Curling up against him, you moan, almost purring, in pleasure, and he welcomes you to him by wrapping his arms around you.

“That was wonderful,” You whisper, stretching your neck to kiss his nose as he finally reaches around to untie your hands. With a brief rub at your wrists, you shift and turn, wrapping your own arms around his neck. You are as close to him as you physically can be, and sometimes even that doesn’t feel like enough.

“It was a lot, that’s for sure.”

“That’s what happens when you make me wait.”

“It was six weeks!” He scoffs a laugh, disbelieving but still playfully smirking. You laugh too, letting a warmth cover your face.

“I genuinely think six weeks is the longest we’ve ever waited. Honestly, give me a half hour, and we can go again.”

He groans, crossing his legs just at the thought of the feeling. “I’m going to need a few days.”

“A few days?!” Your mouth drops open, and he laughs again at your reaction.

“If I promise to go down on you again tonight, do you think you can make it?”

You purse your lips in fake consideration before giving him an over-exaggeratedly sad nod. “I guess, if you hate me, that’ll do…”

“You’re absolutely ridiculous!” He grabs a pillow and gently bats the top of your head with it.

“All I’m saying is don’t ever make me wait that long again,” You wink, and he kisses your forehead softly, pulling you closer.

“Was it worth it?” He whispers, pressing his hips towards you, and you nod wildly.

“You tell me,” You coax, and you reach down, gripping his cock suddenly in your hand, rubbing your thumb along the cool metal of his piercing. He shivers, pulling away quickly.

“Watch it!”

“Worth it, but I never want you to do it again.” You sigh in relief, wiggling from his grasp to lie on your back on the bed. You spread your legs wide, showing a new slick wetness off to him before shooting a glance over at him, your eyebrow high on your face. “Ready to go now?”

#veroniquesboutique #fanfiction #cw sex mention #cw smut #x reader #x you #smut #fem reader #female reader #jjk anime #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen suguru #jujutsu geto #jujustu kaisen #jjk suguru #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #suguru geto smut #geto #jjk geto #geto x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru x reader #suguru x you #suguru x y/n

[miracleonice87]

new heights, new news, new baby

part of the kissing kelce universe

a/n: I've come to the conclusion that I will never be organized enough to make this a well-planned, thought-out, sequential series, so I've decided I'm just gonna post things hella outta order and then reorganize them into a chronological masterlist. deal? deal. 🤝 enjoy more daddy-to-be trav and, introducing, supportive uncle jason. takes place the day travis leaves for chiefs training camp.

warnings: mention of pregnancy / babies, mention of anxiety / sadness / loneliness, plenty of crying both happy and sad teras, swearing, I think that's it

word count: ~4,400+

___

July 22, 2023

“Now, before we get into our training camp preview and talk about some expectations for the season, Travis, you had a little something you wanted to say to the good folks at home?” Jason prompted, teeing up his brother on this week’s New Heights episode – the last they’d record before they both left for their respective camps. 

Travis nodded, his blue eyes sparkling. “A little something, indeed, my brother,” he teased. “We have an announcement today, y’all! Alright nah!”

“Some new news, one might say!” Jason added, referencing the beloved segment of their podcast. 

“NEW NEWS!” Travis shouted excitedly. “Yo, can I get a drumroll please?”

Jason immediately started rolling his tongue, pretending like he had drumsticks in his hand. Travis continued, speaking over the sound. 

“This is like, the biggest announcement of my whole entire life. There were points where I never thought I’d be sharing news like this. It’s so crazy that I even get to do this right now. Gah dang. But, uh, anyway, I know we joke around here a lot, but this is a big one, folks, and I-”

Jason interrupted his brother’s emotional rambling, as well as his own sound effects. “Get to the point, please, my mouth is getting tired!” Jason picked his drumroll back up seamlessly as Travis giggled like a schoolboy. 

“Alright, y’all… here we go,” Travis said, rubbing his hands together mischievously. “Mrs. Kelce, would you please come over here, sweetness?” he requested, his voice syrupy smooth as he extended a hand, inviting you into the camera shot. 

Instead of crouching to put your face into frame as you normally would for your occasional brief pop-ins to the podcast, you stood next to Travis’s chair so that only your middle was showing, your stance perpendicular to the camera so the now-round profile of your belly was clearly visible. Jason gasped as if he hadn’t already known the news for months. You rested a hand on the top of your stomach, making it unmistakable what you and Travis were announcing, and he reached his own hand out to palm your bump, which at this point he could still easily do thanks to his impossibly big hands.

He held your free hand in his, beaming up at you, then looked back to the camera. 

“We’re havin’ a baby, y’all!” he shouted, before letting out a “wooooo-eee!”

On the other end of the Zoom, Jason was clapping and whooping excitedly, matching his brother’s energy. 

Travis then patted his lap, inviting you to sit down to, one, get you off your feet and, two, make it so your face was also visible in frame. 

“This is the moment we’ve been waiting for, folks!” you heard Jason boom theatrically as you put on the AirPods Max that Travis had set aside for you ahead of the recording. “Wyatt and Elliotte have been asking every day since they found out what a ‘cousin’ was when they were gonna get one, asking why Uncle Travvy and Auntie don’t have babies like me and mommy, telling them they can take Bennett home with them if they wanted…”

Travis cackled, throwing his head back. “That is a true statement,” he said as he held your hips firmly. 

“1000%, can confirm,” you added, wrapping your own hands around your husband’s. He squeezed your fingers a few times, and you threw him an adoring smile over your shoulder as his brother continued. 

“And we all know Mama Kelce has been hoping for this for years now. So this is obviously something the whole extended Kelce family has been anticipating for a long time, and it’s finally here, and we couldn’t be happier for you guys,” Jason said, tone more serious now. 

“Aww, thank you, my brother,” Travis said fondly, pressing a reverent kiss to your shoulder. 

“Yeah, thank you, Jase, so much. We’re so excited to finally give the girls a cousin!” you said. 

“Now, tell us how this happened,” Jason began. 

Travis cleared his throat. “Well, you see, Jason, when two people love each other very much-”

The older brother rolled his eyes and interrupted. 

“You know what I mean!” he insisted. “Just tell the people however much you wanna tell ‘em.” 

Travis looked to you as if silently asking for permission, and you simply gestured toward the camera. 

“Go ahead, Trav,” you said, a jesting tone to your voice. “I know it’s something you’re very proud of, so please share with the class.”

With that, Travis turned back toward the camera and waggled his eyebrows, getting as close to the mic as possible. 

“Well, folks… we made us a Super Bowl baby,” he said dramatically before letting out his signature cackle. You simply deadpanned to the camera, Jim Halpert-style, and shrugged.

Jason nodded emphatically. “You suuure did,” he said with a knowing laugh. “You knew I was having a kid right after the Super Bowl and you wanted to jump on the train.” 

You and Travis exchanged a devilish glance.

“Yeah, something like that,” you joked, knowing that jumping on Jason and Kylie’s train by conceiving a baby mere days before she gave birth to their third was certainly not your original plan. “I mean, what better Super Bowl souvenir could you ask for than a baby?!” you said wryly, causing Travis to look into the camera haughtily. 

“A Lombardi, a ring, and a kid,” he said, counting off on his fingers. “Alright nah,” he repeated, far too pleased with himself. 

“That’s awesome,” Jason said, still smiling. “Now, how are you feeling? I know it was a tough road there at first.” 

You nodded, and you felt Travis’s hold on your waist tighten protectively, maybe even subconsciously. “Yeah, I was pretty sick there for a few months, couldn’t get ‘out of the house’ a whole lot, much to this podcast’s dismay, but thankfully, that mostly passed when my first trimester ended,” you explained. “We don’t wanna necessarily share our exact due date, but I’ll say I’m well into my second trimester now and I’m feeling good. I’ve gotten to enjoy not only just the relief of feeling better but also the excitement of sharing this with friends and family – obviously, Mama and Papa Kelce, you and Kylie, all my family, and we just started telling the team, too, which has been really fun.” 

“Aww, that’s the best,” Jason remarked. “What was Big Red’s reaction?”

Travis piped up at the mention of his head coach. “Uh, to no one’s surprise, he looked me dead in the eye with the most serious fucking look on his face and said, ‘surprised it took ya this long, son,’” he revealed in his best Andy Reid voice, making you shake your head in amusement. 

“Yep, nope, does not surprise me one bit,” Jason said, giggling. “And what about your boy Mahomes?”

“Aw, man, Pat was so pumped up, and Brittany, too,” Travis replied. “Pat just started runnin’ laps around his kitchen yellin’ ‘let’s go! let’s fucking go!’ He ‘bout knocked me over!” 

“Yeah, those two have tagged us with babysitting duty on the regular for a couple years now, ever since Sterling was born, hoping that we would catch that baby fever and give her a playmate,” you added, laughing as you looked down at Travis. “I can’t say that’s necessarily what happened, but, um, either way, Sterling and Bronze will have another little team buddy to play with here soon which will be so fun to see. Brittany and Patrick have both been so great for both of us, just letting us know kind of what to expect, things that you might not learn in all the books or from your parents who did this a few decades ago. Especially with us all being on the same team, even just getting the lowdown on the logistical stuff, those two are just the best. They’re super excited for us which is just a really great feeling.” 

“No doubt – I’ve got a feeling this will bring you guys even closer,” Jason mused.

“Absolutely – already has,” Travis said. “So, yeah! That’s the big ‘New News’ for today, everybody. We’ve been keeping this on the DL for quite some time, and we just wanted to be able to share this ourselves in the way we choose, because obviously with camp starting tomorrow and the season just right around the corner, cameras might catch some footage of Mrs. Kelce visiting camp, in the stands, whatever, and we didn’t want people to be weird, so… y’all heard it here first!”

“Damn straight,” Jason asserted. “And just one more thing… I wanted to say, before our mom-to-be hops off here. I, uh… aw, fuck, I swore to Kylie I wasn’t gonna cry,” he said, sniffling as he fixed his eyes toward the ceiling, blinking repeatedly. 

“Aww, Jase!” you murmured as you watched him tear up. 

“I’m good, I’m good,” he assured, still sniffling as he continued. In the corner of the screen, you could see your husband beginning to well up, too, and you caressed his thigh soothingly as he sat in poignant silence. “I just wanted to say that when Travis told us the news, that was truly the happiest I have ever seen my brother – and this dude has been drafted to the NFL, he’s been a Pro Bowler, All-Pro, broken so many records, won two Super Bowls. But by far, the happiest and most excited I’ve ever seen this guy is telling us that you’re having a baby. And as his big brother, that just makes me so fuckin’ proud.” 

You and Travis were both pawing at fallen tears by now, and Travis could only manage a quiet “thank you.” You patted his knee and, after a deep breath, shared your own thoughts. 

“Thank you, Jase, and while we’re making each other cry–” both brothers chuckled at that, “–I’ll say that I know Travis is going to be the best dad, not only because of the incredible man and husband that already he is, and the way you both were raised by your own amazing parents, but also because of the example you have set for him, Jason, by being such an awesome dad to your three girls.” You paused and took a deep, shuddering breath, and Travis rubbed your back to calm you. Jason was nodding, tears streaking his face. “So thank you for that, and for all your love and support through everything, and Kylie’s, too. You guys are gonna be the greatest aunt and uncle this kid could ever ask for, and Travis and I can’t wait to watch that.” 

Travis let out a whistle, cheeks, nose, and eyes pink from crying. “Uh, I will never make it through this episode if I add anything more to that, so I will just say, here here, baby girl,” he offered with a laugh. “We love you, brother.” 

“I love you guys, too,” Jason said as he finally regained his composure. “Whew! Yeah, how the fuck are we supposed to keep recording after all that?! Can we just be done? I am emotionally exhausted. I need a nap.” 

As Travis giggled boyishly, you agreed, “I do, too, so I’m gonna leave you guys to it. Thanks for having me, guys; thanks for giving me a baby, Trav; and good luck at camp, Jase. We’ll talk soon.” 

Travis tapped the outside of your thigh pointedly, his frequent way of silently requesting a kiss. You grasped his chin to peck his lips as Jason thanked you and said a final goodbye. 

“Have a good nap, mama,” Travis cooed as you took off your headphones and returned them to their original spot. “Daddy’ll be up as soon as we’re done,” he added playfully.

You laughed and rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder as you stood up and exited the frame. 

“Oh, Jesus, he’s already calling himself ‘Daddy,’” Jason complained with a weary sigh.

___

Normally, after wrapping an episode, Travis would bound up the stairs and infuse your home with all the leftover energy he had built up during the podcast recording with his brother. One of your favorite things about him co-hosting the podcast, in addition to loving the scheduled opportunity it created for him to connect with his brother, was how buoyant of a mood he was always in after a recording.

But today, the feeling that settled over your household when he wrapped the episode about an hour after your surprise guest appearance was much less chipper.

Today, Travis trudged upstairs to do the one thing he’d been dreading all summer – say his goodbyes to you before leaving for training camp. Though camp at Missouri Western State University was only about an hour from your home in the outskirts of Kansas City, he wouldn’t be home again for five days; instead, he’d be staying on campus with the team and bunking in a dorm. Normally, departing for camp and knowing he’d be spending days on end with his teammates focusing on making themselves better football players excited him, save for a hint of sadness about being away from you, but this particular camp, having to leave his five months pregnant wife at home, he was not looking forward to by any stretch of the imagination. 

When Travis pushed open the basement door, he found you lounging on the couch with your back to him, legs outstretched on the plush cushions as you cradled your bump, some version of the Housewives franchise playing on the TV in front of you. You tipped your head back onto the arm of the couch in order to see him and asked, “how’d it go?” 

He took advantage of your position to rest his thumbs on your cheekbones and give you an upside-down “Spider-Man kiss.” 

“Went great,” he answered curtly, a vastly different response than the pumped-up recap you normally received. “That was the easy part of today,” he added, gazing down at you with his brow furrowed. Even upside-down, he was struck by your captivating beauty, which only tightened the lump already forming in his throat. 

Did he really have to fucking do this?

You groaned, drowning in your own feelings of dread, and sat up, signaling the dogs at your feet to follow your lead. You reached out your hands in order to allow Travis to help you up from the couch and gave him your bravest face as he did so. 

“I’ll walk you out,” you said, feigning confidence. But the crack in your voice when you added “can’t have you showing up late” revealed the crack in your armor, and you watched Travis’s chin drop to his chest, his eyes fixed on his shoes as he forced himself to take one… step… at a time closer to the front door. 

One foot in front of the other, Travis.

You led the way, fluttering your eyelashes repeatedly in an attempt to keep the tears at bay. The dogs circled your feet as you attempted to walk out the front door, and Travis, fearing a fall, whistled and called them back into the house, patting both their heads as he passed.

When the two of you reached Travis’s Range Rover, already packed with all he needed for camp – duffels full of clothes and shoes, an array of video game consoles, deck of cards and set of pong balls for the inevitable team drinking games, and all his favorite snacks, along with a secret handwritten note you’d tucked into his toiletry kit in order to surprise him upon his unpacking – you stood a couple of feet apart, quiet, your husband shuffling his feet beneath him as you shifted your weight uncomfortably from side to side. You gazed up at him helplessly, a rigid, lips-only smile fixed on your face, and he took this moment for yet another reveal, sifting through his shorts pockets to find what he’d grabbed on the way out the door.

“I know this sucks, sweetness, but… I do have a surprise for you…” He dangled a set of keys in front of you which you noticed were not his. 

“New car?” you teased halfheartedly, recognizing the worn key fob to your Porsche after a moment. 

“Mm, not quite, we got a baby on the way, ya know? Gotta save that coin,” Travis teased right back. “I think it’s better than a new car.” 

You raised your eyebrows, staring at him expectantly. He let it marinate in your brain for a few more moments, finally breaking when you threw your arms around his waist, pressing your baby bump to his torso, and whined his name. He beamed. 

“Alright, alright, you know that’s gonna work every time now,” he admitted, giggling. He caressed your jaw with his knuckles and you noticed the glimmer in his eyes. “Listen, I know you’re sad because I’m leavin’, but you gotta get on the road, too… because you gotta go pick up your mama from the airport.” 

You gasped, covering your mouth with both hands. 

“Really?” you whispered after a stunned pause. 

“Really,” he confirmed, nodding. 

You’d only seen your mom once since finding out you were having a baby, and Travis had noticed that your pregnancy had you feeling more homesick than usual. Especially with so many of the Chiefs better halves, who would best understand this phase of your life, having scattered for the offseason, and with Travis’s own mom and sister-in-law living halfway across the country, he felt awful that you didn’t have your mom nearby during this exciting, but unsettling, time. Knowing, too, that you always struggled being apart from him in those first few days of training camp, he had preemptively arranged for his mother-in-law to arrive in Kansas City just as he departed for St. Joseph, hoping that that would alleviate at least some of your loneliness at this delicate time when you were already feeling unusually vulnerable. 

Travis melted when you threw your arms around him again, this time desperately, not jokingly. He rubbed your back, beaming when he heard you whimper, “thank you.”

“Of course, sweetness,” he replied warmly, burying a kiss in your hair. “Anything to keep baby mama happy.”

You giggled, resting your chin on his sternum and tipping your head up to look at him. 

“Yeah, you’re pretty good at that,” you praised, fondness thick in your tone as you rested a hand against his neck. “When does she land?” 

Travis glanced at his watch. “Just over an hour,” he informed you. “So don’t rush. You got plenty of time.” A proud smile slowly stretched across his face as he added, “I got a lot of fun stuff planned for y’all this week.”

Your eyebrows lifted, your excitement building by the minute, and Travis watched your face light up with each word as he continued. 

“You guys are gonna do a spa day tomorrow, got you a suite at the Royals game the next night, then you’re gonna come see me at camp, obviously, because I wanna see Mama, too. And then you’re gonna go run around and do your registry for your baby shower, because she knows all the stuff we’re gonna need, and weeee… do not,” he admitted, laughing. 

The corners of your mouth pulled down as your face contorted, eyes welling with tears, and Travis could see that you were overwhelmed with emotion, humming a laugh as he guided the side of your head to rest against his chest. 

“And that’s why I waited to tell you – because I knew you’d cry every other hour ‘til she got here,” he told you, only half joking, as he hugged you tight.

A giggle bubbled forth from your lips. “You were right, like always,” you said, voice tight, so appreciative of how well this man knew and cared for you. “You’re so thoughtful, Trav, thank you so much.” 

“I mean it when I say literally an-y-thing for you,” he repeated, emphasizing each syllable. “I love you so much,” he said as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. And after a deep sigh, he regretfully mumbled, “And now I gotta go.” 

You pushed away from him slowly, your left hand lingering on his broad chest as he looked down at you with what had to be the saddest expression you’d ever seen him wear. He gathered your hand in his and pressed a lengthy kiss to your wedding rings, then the skin around them. 

“Go be great,” you whispered, smoothing your other hand over his stubbly cheek.

Travis’s eyes closed and he drew a deep breath, committing the feeling of your touch to his memory. With a final squeeze of your fingers, he forced himself to back away and open his driver’s side door. 

As he climbed into the seat, he pointed at you and said firmly, “You and that baby stay safe while I’m gone, alright?” 

You nodded weakly, trailing a hand from the top of your bump to the underside. “We’ll do our best, Daddy,” you promised as he shut his door, the window rolled down. 

At that, Travis’s eyes filled with tears – he had known it was only a matter of time until it would hit him, leaving you for the first time for more than a day since you’d found out you were expecting. And seeing you, hand on your belly, standing in the driveway alone as he started his car and prepared to pull away for the better part of a week… yeah, that did it. 

He blew out a controlled breath through pursed lips, putting every ounce of his will into putting the car in drive and coasting toward the front gate to leave. 

He could see your lower lip quivering even from afar, and it sent a zing of anxiety through his entire being — though he’d never enjoyed saying goodbye, he’d never once felt anxious leaving you for camp. Until today.

“I love you, Mama,” he called out the window, inching slowly toward the gate. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

You nodded. “Okay,” came out in a croak. “I love you, too.” 

“Be good,” he forced out. 

You nodded again, but didn’t trust your voice to allow you to respond with words. You simply waved one last goodbye as he did the same, forcing a signature Travis Kelce smile and wink while simultaneously trying to keep his shit together in front of you.

But as he passed through the gate and down the drive, watching you shrink into the rearview mirror and finally disappear as he turned toward the freeway, his breath caught in his throat and he broke down, tears blurring his vision as he pressed ahead down the familiar route. For a minute or two, he simply let the sobs wrack his body as he swiped at the ever-flowing tears with the back of his hand, letting out the occasional frustrated growl, usually saved for a missed ball in the end zone. As he attempted to calm himself down, he glanced at the recent calls list on his car’s hands-free device.

And, moments later, in suburban Philadelphia… 

Jason hadn’t been off Zoom for more than twenty minutes when his phone rang with a call from his kid brother. Smirking knowingly at the screen, he situated five-month-old baby Bennett in her bouncy seat and tapped the green button.

“Figured I might be hearing from ya,” Jason answered the call.

Sniffling and confused, Travis blinked a few times. 

“You did?”

Jason let out a chuckle. “Yeah, you just said goodbye to her and now you’re, what, three miles down the road to camp?” 

Travis was quiet and rubbed a heavy hand over his face. 

“Five, but… yeah,” Travis mumbled.

Jason hummed as if impressed, gazing at his oldest two daughters who he swore just yesterday could barely hold their own heads up and were now talking animatedly amongst themselves as they dressed and posed Barbie dolls in their prized pink Dreamhouse. “Well, then, you made it two miles further than I did before I called Mom my first training camp when Kylie was pregnant with Wy, so, props.”

“Really?” Travis inquired.

“Hell yeah, dude. It’s the worst fuckin’ feeling,” Jason responded, the sensation still visceral. “Leaving your wife and unborn baby to go live in a dorm with a bunch of sweaty dudes… it goes against every instinct in your body.” 

“Yeah, for real… And I used to love camp, too,” Travis sighed. “I just feel so guilty, man.” 

“I know. But you’re doing it to provide a sick ass life for her and that baby — you’re making sure they’re set for life,” Jason reminded him. “You just gotta focus on that as best you can.” 

The smallest of smiles pulled at Travis’s lips. “That what Mom said to you?”

“Of course — you think I came up with that on my own?” 

Travis giggled at that — the way only a big brother could make you do, even in the midst of misery. 

“It’s gonna be okay, Trav. I promise you,” Jason told him firmly. “You did the right thing flying her mom in; she knows who to call in the off-chance something does go wrong; and… uh… and she knows she’s got our support because she’s calling Kylie right now,” Jason finished, handing his wife’s phone to her as she approached the coffee table where she’d heard it ringing. 

“Is she really?” Travis asked, both relieved and more upset knowing that you, too, were seeking comfort from his brother’s experience with Kylie. 

Jason and Kylie shared a sympathetic glance before she answered your call, and as he walked down the hall out of her earshot to allow you both privacy, Jason replied, “Sure is. And as you know, she couldn’t have picked a more perfect person to lean on right now. This isn’t easy by any means, but we’re here for you guys. So are Mom and Dad, Brittany and Pat, so many others. Remember, this is day one — it does get easier from here.”

Travis trilled his lips as he exhaled, his body already relaxing thanks to his brother’s encouraging words. 

“As much as I hate to admit it, that’s a great point,” Travis conceded. “Thank you, bro. I appreciate you more than you know.”

“Anytime, Trav. Always in your corner. Love you, brother. I’ll check in when I’m back at camp too.”

“I’ll hold you to it. Love you, Jase. Bye.”

#kissing kelce #travis kelce #jason kelce #travis kelce fic #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce fanfiction

[bahrtofane]

you visit jude and decide to take him through the night to show him a little something, and he shows you one in return

bff!jude x reader

word count - 900+

watch it - pure fluff + teasing and silly judi

-----

windows down driving through a warm madrid night with jude in your passenger. just happy you let him tag along. its your second day in the city, your first seeing him in months. you’ve been itching to. but he doesn’t need to know. his ego will only inflate even more. what will you do with him then? he's already a hand full.

he wanted to greet you at the airport (and bring flowers. friends bring flowers to airports right? right...)

he thinks you'd kill him if he did either.

he missed you, though he doesn’t yet know how to say it yet. worse, he thinks he just might love you.

friendship with you makes him want to tear his hair out. why does he want to kiss you. why does his heart ache at every single good bye. and more importantly why are you one of the very select few that hes allowed to call or face time him at any time

he needs to get it together. especially when you look so star studded like this, driving with one hand, lights of the city flickering on your face, drumming your fingers against the wheel while you tease him

he treasures you. he doesn’t know why you keep going out of your way to see him. he wants to ask. one day, some day, not today.

he chooses to stick his head out the window instead , ignoring the looks he just knows he's getting from the cars around him. you only giggle at his antics, turning the music up.

you hum to the music that blasts from the speakers, not a care in the world, weaving through the streets maybe a little too carelessly but you cant help it. not when his eyes gleam so.

he sticks his head back inside, shimmying into his seat properly, but he hasn’t had enough of the night breeze. hand hanging out of the window, arms outstretched, reaching up up up. you think he could reach the stars like this.

who are you kidding. he's a star himself.

he turns to you, smile wide, burst of laughter falling from his lips, "you drive like a mad man."

you shrug, "you’re having fun aren’t you?"

he mimics you, raising his shoulders dramatically, "am i?"

you shake your head, looking over your shoulder as you change lanes. he laughs, mumbling something about you needing extra classes. and who has their license in the first place, you or him?

never mind that, you want to show him something. you saw it driving to your hotel.

you come off the highway, slowing down as you go up a ramp, back into city roads. you watch as he looks out the window wide eyed. jude, always eager to experience everything. do you make the list?

you hope so.

you drive through turns and loops with one hand, the other outstretched trying to catch the wind.

"copy cat." he mutters.

you narrow your eyes at him, "and who can drive then?"

he quiets at this, huffing in his seat.

you reach the side of a building, parking your car. jude is still pretending to sulk when you step out, heading over to his side.

you lean down, resting a hand on the door, "come on you big baby, something i wanna show you."

he perks up at this, "a surprise?"

you snort, "something like that."

he hops out, closing the door being him. you don’t go very far, leaning on the drivers side of your car, pointing to the side of a building. he looks up, gasping.

its a billboard of him, spanning practically the whole side of the structure. there he stands in his iconic stance. text reading "made in birmingham" on the bottom.

"ive never seen this one before..." he trails off.

"pretty cool one. its huge."

he hums, "makes me look extra cool."

you scoff, "yeah you need it."

"hey!' he yells, launching forward as you run from him.

down the street while you giggle, only the moon and street lights to guide your path. he hurls empty insult while you try not to think too deeply about the implications of it all. he catches up in an instant. of course he does. grabbing your arm and dragging you back to your car while you groan.

you try to throw a fit, wriggling against his grip the best you can but man is the guy strong. turning to face you, brow raised. he turns a little to fast, till your pressed almost right up against each other. faces so close you could just lean in to-

kiss!

his lips press against yours. warm and sweet. soft and gentle.

he pulls away just as fast, apologies tumbling from the same lips so fast he cant hear you saying its okay.

so you kiss him instead. wrapping a hand around his. you can feel him relax under you, tensions seeping from his frame where he stands.

grounded.

when you part. you think your face is genuinely in flames. oh how youve dreamed of doing just that a million times over.

he laughs , the idiot laughs. clutching onto your hands like a life line, "ive been waiting ages to do that." he sighs.

"me too." you confess, shy. looking away, your gaze ends up back at billboard jude.

he wrinkles his nose, "id rather kiss you more somewhere where he isn’t spying."

you gasp, "are you jealous of yourself?" dragging the two of you back to your car.

he shrugs, ducking back inside and buckling up, "im just saying he doesn’t need to be seeing my business."

you roll your eyes, turning your car on and back to driving, "you’re so dramatic."

"but you’re having fun aren’t you?" he teases.

you ignore this. speeding through streets with all the windows down while you let him choose the music again.

you have a soft spot so what? so does he.

#jude x you #jude bellingham imagine #jude x reader #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham x you #jude bellingham one shot #bahr footy #footy fic #footballer fic #football fanfic #jude x y/n #jude bellingham headcanons #jude bellingham x y/n

[eneiyri]

pairing: sunghoon x reader word count: 1.5k type: fluff, established relationship, slightly suggestive nearing the end but very sweet warning(s): reader is (very) drunk and whiny, sunghoon just being a good boyfriend, mentions of sex (it doesn’t actually happen), s/n: niki obviously doesn’t drink, let me know if i need to add more

I want to see you drunk, Sunghoon repeats in his mind, thinking of the words you said to him hours ago. I want to see your flushed cheeks and whiny mood, you also said. Take care of my big baby and cuddle until the morning, you added. Except, it turned out to become the opposite.

"Hey, it's my boy!" You clap your hands together, making Sunghoon flinch in surprise. You giggle groggily, "Aw, you're so cute, Hoon. You get startled so easily, I love your reactions." You reach for his face, pinching his cheeks.

He groans, "Baby, you're drunk." He takes your hands off his face, making you pout and shake your head. "No, you're drunk!" You smack at his arm, making him yelp.

He pulls your arms away from him, heaving a sigh as you smack him again.

"Ow, okay! Fine, I'm the one drunk." He lets out in defeat, moving your hair behind your ear, making you squirm at his touch. "That tickles!"

The boys threw a party at Heeseung’s house, enjoying their last few days of vacation. Sunghoon wasn't planning to go, ready to skip and hangout with you at your shared apartment.

You were very fond of the idea, a nice relaxing day with your boyfriend. But when Jake called you and told you about him missing the party, you knew you just had to change his mind.

After a couple minutes of convincing, Sunghoon immediately gives in. "Aha! I knew Y/n was your soft spot." Jake spoke proudly. Sunghoon rolls his eyes, "Yeah yeah, let's go."

When you arrived to the party, you made sure to stick with Sunghoon during it, but as the party went increased in volume — so did your distance.

While Sunghoon was getting dragged away by mutual friends, you got closer with the other girls in the party, whom were luckily nice and very sweet. Sunghoon doesn't look away from you until he was sure you were comfortable, before turning back to his own group.

The boy finished a couple rounds of cup pong, a cocky smile on his face since Jay and his team had won. "That was luck," Niki calls out from the other side of the table, making Sunghoon smile.

"It's called skill, ju—" A new voice cuts him off, coming from a person who had just entered the room. "Well you're definitely not the only one with skill, Sunghoon. Your girlfriend has the skill of getting drunk."

Sunghoon perks up at the mentions of you, and a laugh stifles from behind him. "Y/n's drunk?" Jay asks, impressed. Sunghoon is quick to leave his spot at the cup pong table, moving past Heeseung — who was the one that told him about your state.

"She’s in the kitchen." He chuckles, patting the younger one on the back.

That's how you end up in the kitchen, swatting your boyfriend's arm away. "I don't want to go home." You glare at him, and he tries to hold in his laugh, finding yourself more alarmingly adorable than threatening.

"Baby, we have to. We can't sleep in Heeseung’s kitchen, we just have to walk to Jake’s car and go." He pokes at your sides, making you whine. "And then cuddle?" You ask him, looking at him with your eyes half closed.

"Cuddle?" You dragged the word, not even giving him enough time to answer. Sunghoon nods, helping you stand up. "And then we can cuddle." He repeats your words.

Sunghoon drapes his arm around your shoulder, stabling your stance.

"Y/n," Jake opens his car door for you and Sunghoon. "Hmm?" You hum trying to keep your eyes open. "You're Sunghoon’s girlfriend, my best friend, but as much as I do love you," He pats on his car like it’s some newborn— "Please for the love of God do not throw up on my baby." He groans, making Sunghoon laugh.

Jake’s girlfriend rolls her eyes, "Should've just dated the car." She jokes, luckily sober. Jake snickers, "I mean, it's not—" "Don't you dare finish that sentence, Sim, or I'll get you in your sleep." His girlfriend cuts in. "Yes ma'am."

You laugh loudly at their bickering late, only then just processing their words. The three look at you, letting out a laugh as they noticed your late realization.

A frown forms on your lips, "Why are you laughing at me?" You look at them sadly, Sunghoon quickly shakes his head. "No, we aren't laughing at you. We're laughing with you." He turns to them in panic, and they shrug their shoulders, getting in for the ride.

— "Y/n, we're here." Sunghoon shakes you softly awake, and you let out a huff after falling asleep in the car. You look around, heaving a sigh. "We have to go up now," He adds, pointing at your apartment.

You press against him, leaning your head into his chest. "But I don't want to walk, I feel wobbly." You grumble, crossing your arms on your chest, eyes half open. "Let's teleport!"

He laughs, as he brought a hand up to your head, patting it as he ran his fingers through your hair. "I can carry you," He offers, making you look up at his words. "Like a piggyback?" You ask him with slight excitement. He nods, chuckling at your reaction, "Yeah, a piggyback." He smiles at you.

You giggle, "Okay, Hoon! Here we go," You raise your arms in the air, looking up at Sunghoon with crinkled eyes as soft giggles leave your lips. "Here we go." He coos, turning to help you onto his back.

He carries you to the apartment after thanking Jake, opening the door as he sat you down on your shared bed. He turns to look at you, and he notices how you have one eye closed, the other barely open as you fight your drowsiness.

He quickly stands up to go to the hallway, ready to call Jay for help with an upcoming hangover the next day. But you're quick to grab his wrist, making him yelp in surprise at your sudden strength.

Sunghoon sits in front of you, and you hold his hand on your lap, looking down at them. "Don't go," You mumble. Sunghoon looks up at that, tilting his head. "Hm?" He hums in confusion, not hearing you the first time. "Stay here." Your grip softens on his wrist.

He brings his free hand to your face, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'll be right here." He spoke softly, caressing your face a couple times.

His hands are on your lap, as you look at him, eyes open this time. You stare at him, and he stares right back. "Sunghoon," You spoke, eyes on his lips. "Yes?" He hums.

"I'm going to kiss you." You quipped hastily, like you were at your limit. He looks at you in surprise, taken aback by your sudden announcement. "Y/n—" Your cradle his face in your hands, pulling his face towards your own.

When your lips meet his just barely, he smiles against your lips, kissing you back. After a couple more seconds, Sunghoon notices how your actions became sloppy, until you've halted all your lip movements. He pulls away, looking at you.

“Sunghoon, come to bed.” You loop your arms around his neck, pecking his lips as he gasps against your lips. Sunghoon knew exactly what you were trying to do, and he had to control it.

“Baby,” He drawls, grabbing your hands.

You open your eyes slowly, looking him in the eye. “As much as I’d love to hold you like that, I don’t want to do it while you’re drunk.” He pecks your lips back, taking your hands into his own. “I love you and I want you to give me consent in your sober state, Baby.”

Although Sunghoon and you have had sex (multiple times) before, he never fails to ask you for consent and makes sure you’re comfortable.

Sunghoon makes sure to hold your eye contact, before you softly pulled one of your hands out of his own. He looks at you in confusion, eyes widening when he sees tears forming in your eyes. “Y/n?”

You shake your head and smack his chest. “Hey—“ He starts, but gets cut short when you get closer to him, pressing your face into his chest gently.

“I love you.” Your voice is muffled against his chest, but the boy easily deciphers it. “I love you for loving me,” You add. “I love you so much. So, fucking much.”

Before Sunghoon could say anything, your figure falls back onto your bed, a soft yawn escaping your lips.

He smiles, moving to lie down beside you. “I love you too,” He kisses your forehead, making you come closer. "Only show me this side of you." He let out, holding you in his arms. You hum in approval, pressing your face into his chest. “Of course.”

copyright © eneiyri 2022

#sunghoon #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon angst #sunghoon ff #enhypen imagines #enhypen imagine #enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #sunghoon scenarios #sunghoon x reader #enhypen scenarios #ily sunghoon -nei #heeseung #jay #jake #sunoo #jungwon #niki

[eddiesxangel]

It’s very possible someone could have done this already, but I’ll say it anyways, what if modern!eddie saw on tik tok the trend where the boyfriend puts his hands under their gfs baby bump and they’ll lift and it takes pressure off them, and I can’t help but think about Eddie doing this with reader 👀

Ooooo he would be so excited like a little kid on Christmas.

You’d walk into your home and he would be waiting there with the phone already set up on a tripod.

“What the hell is that?” Today you did not want to be filmed. Your hair is a mess with make up not done, your back was killing you and your feet are so swollen from being seven months pregnant You just want to lie down and take a nap.

“ I have a surprise for you baby” he would have the biggest smile on his face as he walked over to kiss you hello.

“What’s with the phone?” You were use to Eddie filming your shared life for his tiktok following, but today you were not in the mood.

“Trust me?” He pouts as he slinks behind you.

“Baby what are yo- ohhhhhhh god” you sigh in relief as Eddie hooks his fingers together under your lower belly and lifts up to relive the weight of your unborn child.

“Holy shit baby this is so heavy. No wonder you’re always complaining.” He struggles a bit to hold his stance but he eventually fords his balance. You give him a dirty look but he kisses your cheek in apology.

“Never let go” you lean into him and rest your head on his chest. It felt so nice. Your body felt ten times lighter with the support of Eddie under your baby bump.

“You’re my goddamn superwoman you know that?” Eddie whispered in your ear.

“Thank you.” You start to sniffle. He was always so caring so affectionate but now with the baby on the way it’s doubled.

“Ok baby. I gotta let go my arms are killing me” he giggles uncomfortably.

“Nooooooo please a little bit longer, this is the fist time I feel like I haven’t had to pee in months.” You pout.

“Okay baby, but only because it’s you.” He kisses your cheek and follows you around the house so you feel like you can do normal tasks again.

#Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson x afab reader #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #request

[rafescurtainbangz]

Eddie Munson - Red Lipstick Blurb

+18

600 words

"How much time do we have?"

"Not a lot... What are you thinking?" He chuckles.

"I just want to suck your cock, Eds. That's it," you whisper, coyly.

"Oh yeah. That's what you want?” he sighs; you can feel his smile against your lips.

"You can take care of me later. How does that sound?"

"How does that sound? That sounds fantastic, sweetheart. Please..." He whispers between kisses.

You meet his lips one last time, moving to his jaw; a little further to his neck, leaving a trail of red lipstick in your wake. Eddie chuckles, delightedly as his eyes follow the markings, lowering with you, watching you as you drop to your knees.

Slipping your fingers under the straps of your bra you slide them off your shoulders; looking at Eddie through your lashes.

You draw your hands up to your cleavage, delicately drawing them over the top. Reaching your nipples you trace small circles over the fabric. Eddie's eyes darken.

"So fucking hot," he praises. You give him a devilish smile.

Taking his cock in your hand you pump slowly, your eyes on his. Your other hand massages your breast. "Mmm... You're so big," you breathe. You slip your fingers under the lace of your bra slowly, toying with your nipple.

Eddie is mesmerized, watching you play with the both of you at the same time. Eddie's eyes drift slowly between the two of you.

"Sweetheart. Oh my god," he groans.

Your hand retreats, moving to your back; unclasping your bra with a single hand. You let it fall forward, resulting in a loud moan from Eddie.

You continue to touch your chest as you stroke his cock; pressing your cleavage together; twisting your nipple. Eddie's breathing increases with each passing second as he watches you.

Eddie shifts his stance when you drop both hands, nearing his shaft. "Mmm...." He growls in excitement when your tongue hits his warm skin. You draw your mouth from the base of his length to his throbbing head, your eyes burning into his.

His breath catches in his chest as you brush your tongue from side to side on his tip; Eddie, looking at you through hooded eyes, trying his best to keep them open. "So good. Fuck," he breathes.

Swirling your tongue you collect the prerelease, glistening from the tip; Eddie lets out a low groan, delighting your ears.

Wrapping your lips around his cock you take him to the back of your throat, drawing off slowly; squeezing your lips, leaving little lipstick rings behind.

"Just beautiful, sweetheart," he sighs; eyeing the mess. “Been thinkin’ about your lips since you put it on. So fuckin’ good f’me, baby girl.”

You bob back and forth slowly and sloppily, using your hand to stroke where your mouth can't reach. Your other hand gropes his skin, tracing up his body.

Hollowing your cheeks, causes his abs to flex under your hand as you increase your suction. You can tell Eddie is about to lose control.

Drawing off slowly you wrap your fingers around his cock. You stroke quickly. Your breasts bounce with each thrust of the hand.

"Fuck, sweetheart. You look so damn good. S-Shit. I'm gonna cum," he whines.

"Yeah?" You groan. "Are you gonna cum for me, Eds?"

"Fuck. Yes, shit."

You return your lips to Eddie's shaft, sucking his head; then, dropping low, gagging when you take as much of him as you can. His brows knit tight. You feel his cock twitch on your tongue.

"Ugh... Shit," He moans, huskily.

You draw him out of your mouth quickly, pumping rapidly. Eddie's mouth falls agape, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

He climaxes on your chest; ropes of pearlescent white landing on your breasts. Eddie watches carefully as you draw out the last bits of pleasure from him.

His eyes fall shut. He lets out a satisfied sigh; a wide smile settles on his lips as he tilts his head up to the ceiling. "God, I fucking love you," he groans.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #boyfriend eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson filth #eddie munson oneshot

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

What about I could do this all day but with Arthur curry, where he is being flirty and complimenting the reader all day, even she and others are like he can't keep going, and he does and maybe it ends with him taking reader out on a date and then she starts flirting with him all day

.⋆｡Keep Going｡⋆.

Arthur Curry x plus size reader

Sick of Arthur’s relentless flirting, you strike back.

Warnings: flirting, idiots in love, fluff, pick up lines are from google

WC: 730

Minors DNI

3000 Follower Celebration

He was desperate, charming, delusional and all around annoying but there was no way you could hate him, he was just too endearing. Arthur had been following you around the Justice League tower all day like a lost puppy, showering you with any compliment he could think of. 

“I’d bet you’d look great dressed in kelp.” You came to a screeching halt and whipped around, brow raised at the huge man who was walking behind you. “Y’a know when we get married, you’ll have to wear something seafood-like and I think kelp would compliment your skin perfectly.” Your face, which already seemed permanently heated from all the attention, got even hotter.

“Oh my god.” You groaned, hiding your face behind the file you were holding.

“Actually, I think coral might look better on you, maybe a starfish or two.”

“Arthur!” You hissed, hyper aware of the fact that you were in a building full of superheroes who did not appreciate fraternisation in their League.

But Arthur just smirked as he leaned against the wall only a few inches from you. “C’mon, just let me take you out already.” He practically begged, a stark contrast from his casual stance. 

As hard as you might try, you couldn’t resist those big amber eyes looking down at you like you were his whole world. Sighing, you gave him a nod. “Fine, one date! Just one!” Immediately his back straightened and he wrapped you in a tight hug, making you yelp.

“You better go put some socks on princess cause I’m about to knock them off!” And with that, he bounded away, chattering to himself about what kind of date he would take you on.

“Are you sure about picking that one? I know lots of better men and women that would do anything for a chance with you.” Diana practically materialised by your side, gazing disapprovingly at her teammate. 

You chuckled. “Well, he is kind of cute.”

——————

It wasn’t just one date, it was five. Barely 10 minutes into your first date (he brought you to the fucking aquarium) you were lost forever.

The flirting never stopped either, in fact, it somehow got worse. Every second sentence that left his perfectly kissable mouth was either a compliment or some lewd joke that was so bad it even made Batman blush. So you were expecting Diana to come crawling to you, begging it to stop for the sake of everyone else.

You started that morning, as soon as Arthur stepped from the zeta tube. You wolf-whistled and gave him a slow once-over. “Damn baby, if you were a Transformer you'd be Optimus Fine.” He froze comically, his eyes wide, his jaw dropped open in shock. He pulled himself together quickly and wrapped your wide hip in a bruising grip, smashing his lips to yours.

As Arthur scoured the fridge in the League kitchen several hours later, you walked into his peripheral vision and smirked as your own gaze fell onto his pert backside. “Do you drink a lot of Sprite? Because you look so-da-licious!” His head whipped around with a sickening click.

“What did you just say?” You shrugged.

“You heard me, sexy.” He groaned as his eyelids fluttered. You winked at him and turned to leave, abandoning Arthur with his little ‘problem’.

The conference room was dead silent as you all looked over your individual assignments with the occasional shuffling of papers or the sound of someone clearing their throat. Your new boyfriend sat beside you, one large hand planted firmly on your plump thigh, his fingers gently rubbing circles into the soft skin. 

Just as you finished off your reading a deafening sound came from the man beside you as he violently sneezed into his elbow. Immediately, everyone looked his way. “I would've said "God bless you" after that sneeze, but it looks like he already has.” Now all eyes were on you as you smirked evilly. They all groaned collectively at the bad line. 

Arthur’s hand tightened on your leg in warning. You squeezed his hand in return. “Stop.” He muttered under his breath as the others returned to their work, Diana smiling suspiciously.

“Stop what?” You asked dumbly.

“You will run out of pick-up lines eventually and when you do, I’ll be there.”  “Oh love, I could do this all day.” You retorted with a kiss to his bearded cheek.

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[thewritingofamadwoman]

Stress Relief

The way Roy Kent (and Brett Goldstein) live in my head rent free 24/7.

Pairing: Roy Kent x Fem!Reader (established relationship)

Warnings: Fluff, some making out, and Roy Kent being a cocky little shit

Enjoy!

You wiped your hands clean on a towel and smiled at the young man on the table.

“Okay Sam, you’re all done. Continue to work on those stretches at home and you’ll be in tip top shape for the game next weekend.”

Sam Obisanya smiled back at you, slowly getting up off the table.

“Thank you again, so much. I will do all the exercises you’ve recommended, and I will also look into Pilates classes.”

You gave Sam a quizzical look.

“You don’t have to do that Sam, it’s just a sprained ankle…”

The young man laughed.

“Oh no I know, I just am interested in Pilates. I’ve heard it does wonders for your body, core, and state of mind.”

Sam looked at you so genuinely, that you couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. He was absolutely precious. Sam smiled at you again and waved goodbye before exiting the treatment room. Between Sam’s ankle, Dani’s knee and Jamie’s hamstring, you had been working nonstop all week, doing your best to heal them as best you could.

You were jotting down notes in Sam’s folder when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in!”

Roy Kent walked in, shut the door behind him and let out the deepest sigh/growl you’ve heard in a while. You looked up and put the folder down on your desk, taking a second to admire the grouchy coach. Roy stood there, arms at his sides and shoulders back in his usual stance. His biceps bulging from underneath the short sleeves of his coach jersey, the watch on his right wrist gleaming under the florescent lighting in the treatment room. Your eyes trailed to Roy’s face; his brows drawn together in their usual frown and his lips following suit.

“Well hello to you, too,” you greeted playfully.

Roy raised an eyebrow at you and rolled his eyes warm heartedly.

“Hi,” he exhaled, his deep voice reverberating through you. God you loved his voice.

You waited for him to continue, seeing the thoughts running through his mind. Roy took another breath and let it all out.

“These fucks have got me more stressed out than the “girls nine under nine” ever did. Fucking shits.” Roy points a finger to the door behind him. I swear, if I have to hear Zava go on about his fucking avocado farm one more time, I’m going fucking quit and go back to being a fucking pundit.”

And there it was. You nodded sympathetically and moved off from the desk you were leaning on and waved your hand to the table in front of you, signally Roy to have a seat. The coach followed suit, letting out a huff of air as he did. You stepped on a mechanical lever underneath the table, causing the table to lower so that Roy was at a comfortable height for you. You placed your hands on his shoulders gently before giving them a tight squeeze.

“You’re not going to quit, baby. You just need a second to relax. You haven’t been to Maureen’s house in a few weeks now that I think of it. When was your last yoga session with the ladies?” You pressed down on Roy’s shoulders again, feeling the immense amount of tension he was keeping at the base of his neck.

Roy grunted at the feeling of your hands, slowly leaning into your touch.

“Maureen’s been dealing with her son’s upcoming wedding, and Carol’s neice is going through a divorce so we’ve all been pushing back our next yoga date.”

You smiled at how invested Roy was with his little yoga group. He always managed to melt your heart with the simplest of things.

“Well then, the solution is simple. You need a little bit of stress relief. You’re so tense Roy, all this pent up pressure isn’t going to do you any good. I’m going to take care of it, okay?”

You spoke as gently while beginning to massage Roy’s shoulders. You’ve been told by the team that you give the best massages known to man. And while it was part of your job as the team’s physio, right now you weren’t a PT. You were Roy’s girlfriend, ready to help your man relax. A few moments pass in silence, the only sounds in the room were of Roy’s deep breathing, and occasional moan whenever you came across a particular tender spot.

“Fuuuuuuuck” Roy groaned, relishing in the feel of your hands digging into the knots in his neck and shoulders. “That feels incredible,” he sighed, getting lost in the feel of it all. You smiled to yourself, glad to be able to help him in any way. Thirty minutes go by until you could no longer find any strained muscles under his shirt. You gave Roy’s shoulders one final squeeze, leaning down to give him a small kiss on the back of his head.

“All done. Hope you’re feeling a little less stressed, my love.”

Roy turns his head to face you, his eyes glossy as if he were in a dreamy state of mind.

“That was fucking mind blowing and exactly what I needed. Fuck you’re amazing. Thank you,” he praised, slowly turning his body and swinging his legs over the other edge of the table so that he was facing you. You beamed at his compliment, moving forward as well so that you were standing in-between his legs, the table allowing you to finally be able to stare directly into Roy’s eyes. Those deep, chocolate colored eyes that you’ve been in love with for quite some time.

“You’re welcome, baby.” You reply, leaning forward to give Roy’s a quick yet sweet peck on his lips. You loved the feel of his soft lips, plush and pillowy against your own. How something so soft could voice so many “fucks” in a day, you’ll never understand. But you loved it nonetheless. When you pulled back, you noticed Roy’s brows had softened significantly and there was a look of adoration in his eyes. You were sure it mirrored the look you gave him 95% of the time.

“Once Maureen and Carol get settled, and your yoga routine goes back to normal, your stress levels won’t be as high anymore. But until then, I’m more than happy to help you relieve it. Whether here or at home, you just come to me and I’ve got you. Okay?”

You gave Roy another little peck before you felt his lips twitch up into a smirk. You pulled back to find him looking at you mischievously. The hands that were unconsciously placed on your hips while you kissed began to slowly slide up your sides and back down to your hips.

“Going to help me relieve some stress, hmm? And at work no less? How naughty.”

The look he gave you in that moment set your insides on fire, and Roy took that moment to pull you closer to him, arms locking behind you to keep you in place. You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you wrapped your own arms around his neck, scooting as close as you could, your chest pressed up against his.

“Me? Naughty? I’m an angel,” you teased, drawing a pretend halo above your head.

Roy growled and leaned in, claiming your lips with his. You sighed into his kiss, your nails gently carding through his hair at the back of his head. Roy broke the kiss first but didn’t relent, moving his lips to your neck and planting wet kisses up and down the column of your throat. You felt your knees weaken, like they always did whenever Roy found that deliciously sweet spot right below your ear. You gasped, and Roy smiled onto your skin, kissing his way down slowly once more. His hands began to roam your body as yours found purchase on his shoulders.

“Oh God, fuck,” you whispered and giggled as you shivered when you felt Roy lick and suck at the base of your throat. Roy’s deep chuckle vibrated against you.

“Aww baby, you can just call me Roy,” he mused and rolled your eyes.

“Little shit,” you said breathlessly, pulling back as far as Roy would allow you, his arms still trapping you to him.

“As much as I’d like to continue this, I do have both Bumbercatch and Zorreaux due for an assessment soon. Buuuuut I can absolutely help you with your little stress relief issue at home later, okay?”

Roy smiled at you and nodded, grunting in agreement.

“Just one thing though, darling. You and I both know it’s not a “little” stress relief issue. Shall I remind you of last time, when you struggled to get all of me insi-“ you immediately cut him off, your hand cupping over his mouth, a blush engulfing your cheeks.

“Shuuuush! Shush! You know what I meant for fucks sake. Anyone can hear you, these walls are paper thin, you heathen!” You berrated, a giggle bubbling in your throat. Roy laughed against your hand and kissed your palm while you shook your head at him.

“Glad you’re feeling MUCH better, Coach Kent. Now shoo, send in Bumbercatch if he’s out there and I’ll deal with you later.”

Roy continued to smile at you and when you removed your hand, you got the full effect of his perfect smile. You couldn’t help your own smile as Roy hopped off the table and retreated to the door. You crossed your arms across your chest again as he turned around one final time before winking at you before exiting. You heard him loud and clear as he made his way back to the locker room.

“Oi! Bumbercatch! You’re needed in physio. Move!”

You shook your head and laughed to yourself before you wiped down the table and set up the room. This was going to be a very long afternoon.

#roy kent x reader #roy kent x you #Roy Kent x fem!reader #Roy Kent oneshot #Roy Kent imagine #Roy Kent fanfic

[sanjoongie]

Arch Nemesis

For @cultofdionysusnet Mocha Madness event

🧠Pairing: Choi San x Reader (f) x ???

🧠Au: hero/villain au

🧠Trope: e2l (enemies to lovers), f2l (friends to lovers), established relationship

🧠Rating: 18+, MDNI, smut, angst

🧠Warnings: mind reading, emotion manipulation (they're superheroes, they have powers), cheating

🧠Kinks: mutual masturbation, sexual fantasies made reality, pussy slapping, deep throating, choking, penetrative sex with no barrier, oral (m), spit kink, deep throating

🧠Word count: 3,730

🧠Dedication: @mejuii & @downtoamagicalland for beta-ing, my unholy trinity partners in crime 🥰 and to @starlitmark for bouncing ideas with me and helping this plot flourish!

🧠Summary: you're a hero, one who has struggled to remain good, but what happens when you're most guilty fantasy with your arch nemesis of all people, comes to light?

“Gotta go, duty calls,” You said as you leaned over in your bed and kissed San’s cheek.

“No,” San murmured, pulling you in tightly against his body, “Stay. They can send someone else.”

You gently extracted yourself from San’s grasp. “Nice try but I can’t be your pillow all night. Get some sleep, Baby.” San mumbled into his pillow as you left your shared bed with a fond smile on your face.

You and San had been friends since college; you'd both been training then to be supe's. The two of you had been brought together because of your powers. San had the ability to read minds and telekinesis, which was the makings of a villain. And you could shoot a heart with your finger and temporarily gain control of whoever you shot. Basically, your target would be in love with you and do anything for you. Which was also seen as the potential to be a villain. The two of you had banded together as outcasts and had been friends ever since.

Considering the reason you had become friends, you had made a pact with San: to never speak on your missions, because you didn't want your professional life to ruin your friendship. You didn't know what San’s alter ego was and he didn't know yours. 

It had been only recently that your friendship had bloomed into a relationship. You were happy for it. San was the perfect soft and caring boyfriend. If only you didn't have a dirty secret that involved your arch nemesis.

Your comms told you your mission was at the old Treasure Hotel. Loudmouth was up to his old shenanigans. Apparently he had used his screaming powers and made everyone vacate the hotel so he could rob the safe. Except once you got there, running through the hotel, attempting to locate Loudmouth, you found no one. It wasn’t until you burst through the door to the rooftop that you discovered him--and his long-time ally, Killjoy.

“And I’m gone,” Loudmouth announced, jumping from the top of the roof, screeching when he presumably reached the ground to halt his ascent. 

You narrowed your eyes down at Killjoy. The villain was your arch nemesis, the antithesis of your life. If there was a problem in your life, he was usually the center of it all. Of course you had to pull yourself out of bed from your boyfriend to confront the one man you didn’t want to see this evening.

“What’s this about, Killjoy?” You demanded. You summoned your power, folding one of your hands into the shape of a gun and using the other to support your wrist.

The masked villain smirked, folding his arms over his well-developed chest. “You can drop the act. I know.”

You continued to hold your stance. “If you know that I’ve plans for the mayor’s inaugural, that’s pretty smart of you. I didn’t think you had it in you,” you quipped.

Killjoy smirked. “I don’t need to be smart to know that you think of me when you stuff your pretty fingers inside of you.”

You dropped your stance immediately. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No?” Killjoy cocked his head. “You don’t think about me tucking my legs around yours to hold them in place as I ease in three fingers and you tell me you couldn't possibly take that much but your pussy takes them easily. You don’t think about me whispering how it’s so dirty that a hero could be taking my fingers so well. You don’t think about me slapping your pussy and pinching your clit and--”

“ENOUGH!” You shouted. Shame was covering you from head to toe right now. That was your exact fantasy, down to how many fingers you wanted him to shove into you. How could he suddenly read your mind when he’s barely skimmed the surface before?

Killjoy hopped onto one of the fans on the top of the building and leaned forward on his legs. His crooked smile pulled to the side, revealing a dimple. “Why just think about it when we could make it a reality?”

“Abso-fucking-luytely not!” You said in horror.

A hero? Getting finger banged by her arch nemesis? Never!

“How about this,” Killjoy suggested in a smug tone, “You show me what you do when you fantasize about me…” He took a moment to spit in his palm, “And I’ll show you what I do when I think of you.”

Your jaw just about hit the floor. “Excuse me?!”

Killjoy raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think it’s possible that I think about holding you down on my dick, shutting up that smart mouth of yours, always calling me a failure of a villain?” You clenched your legs together but Killjoy didn’t miss anything. “Come on, what’s a little mutual masturbation between old time enemies, huh?”

Your body worked on its own accord, your fingertips moving to the teensy-tiny skirt of your uniform. Killjoy’s eyes are glued to the pathway your fingers follow until you’ve raised the skirt and he can see your still clothed core but…

Killjoy’s tongue came out to wet his lips. “Is that a wet spot, Loveshot?”

You pushed your lips together and nodded. “Yeah,” You let out a shaky breath.

“Show me,” Killjoy insisted, leaning forward even further, eyes glued to your crotch.

You leaned back against the rough stone of the old building, fingers hovering over your outer lips. “I--you tease me a lot,” You admitted.

“Mhmm,” Killjoy prompted you. 

“Sometimes you--” You gasped when you palmed your breast and found the nipple tight already. “--you pull and pinch my nipples and call me a superslut.”

You watched with bated breath as Killjoy peeled back the lower half of his suit and you sighed dreamily as his girthy dick was revealed. You knew there was a reason you used three fingers for him in your fantasies. “Now my turn. You usually say something about how my suit makes my dick look tiny, so when you protest, I rub my dick against your face and lips, but once my dick is seated in your hot mouth, you crumble and take it all for me.” Killjoy’s hips twitched upwards as his spit-covered hand moved up and down his dick. 

"Sometimes I get so wet from pretending my fingers are yours that I--" You bit down on your lip to muffle a moan.

"Who's gonna hear you way up here  Loveshot?" Killjoy smirked once again, "Let me hear all your desperate noises for me."

Shame still burns in the pit of your stomach. You shouldn't do this. You had San but everything was still new with him. This dirty little fantasy you've had of Killjoy had been around before you two had evolved from friends to lovers. You needed this.

You unceremoniously slapped your cunt and your head lolled back with how delicious it felt. "You tell me that I can take anything you give me, just like you know you can throw me into any situation as a hero and I can save the day."

Killjoy let out a low moan and scrunched his nose upwards. "I imagine your muffled noises as I push your face into my pelvis, making you take all of my dick. You choke and you cry and you say that you love every moment of it."

You're so worked up at this point that you could actually cum. "I'm--" You choked on the words when you watched Killjoy shamelessly spurt all over his hand.

He opened his eyes, heavy lidded with satisfaction and gave you a slow smile. "Come for me, my nemesis."

“Killjoy!” You come undone for him, pussy convulsing around your fingers and you ride them, closing your eyes for just a moment and picturing Killjoy’s smirk above you.

"Don't do that," Killjoy groaned.

You had forgotten he was still in your head. You ripped your fingers from your cunt and wiped them against your thighs to clean them. You turned to leave but Killjoy couldn't help but get a final verbal shot in.

"Where are you going, Loveshot? You're still thinking about me. You'll think about me later, won't you?" 

You threw up a middle finger as a parting gift and shifted the color of your hair and your nose. By the time you made your way to the bottom of the skyscraper, you were completely indistinguishable from Loveshot. But you were still the same person. You had just gray-area cheated on San with your arch nemesis.

Your comms buzzed and you saw you received a text you simply could not ignore:

Sannie🥺: wanna meet up? I’ll order your regular at Blue Bird.

You: just finished up, see you there

Guilt wracked through your body. If you said no San would know something was up. But could you truly sip on a sugary sweet beverage, which your best-friend-turned-boyfriend had memorized as your order, as if nothing had happened?

You stumbled into the coffee shop that you and San frequented, only a few blocks away from your shared apartment. You weren’t used to fighting crime, then having a mind blowing orgasm afterwards. Your super power wasn’t stamina, that was for sure. Your eyes sought out San immediately, who waved you over to the table he was seated at. 

“Hey Babe,” San greeted you.

“H-hey,” You replied shakily. 

San had his normal gray hoodie but it was barely zipped up and you could see a sheen of sweat covering his upper chest that peeked past the zipper. He smiled softly, “I couldn't sleep, so I went to the gym. Sorry, I must smell like a locker room.”

You laughed under your breath. “You smell like you just walked out of a perfume ad.”

San scratched the back of his head. “Careful, I think my heart just beat a little harder from that.”

You smiled painfully. You attempted to sit at the café table and faltered, barely catching yourself against the edge. Unfortunately for you, your abused clit took most of the weight as you collapsed against it and you made an embarrassingly loud and desperate noise.

San’s eyes widened and then immediately avoided your eyes. What did he just realize?!

“San?” You worried your teeth on your bottom lip. You managed to properly sit down and sip your drink to do something, anything. 

“Where did you just come from?” He asked quietly.

“Uh… you know, superhero stuff,” You shrugged.

The two of you had a strict policy of not speaking about your cases, to not muddy up each other’s professions. It just worked better that way. But San chose today to push it. He pushed up his glasses up the bridge of his nose and shifted closer to you. “Where did you come from?” he repeated firmly.

“The subway. Hostage situation. Wrapped it up pretty quickly,” You lied. 

San sat back but eased an arm around the back of your chair. “Good.”

The tension eased out of your shoulders and you leaned into San’s embrace. “I’m tired. Let’s go home.”

The two of you walked home, San’s arm still around your shoulder, you still leaning against him. You were cold and were trying to absorb some of his warmth. Not even the drink from the coffee shop could warm up the sinking feeling in your chest. Even as you got home, got ready for bed, you couldn't shake your anxiety.

Guilt is gnawing at the end of your mind and you know that there is no going to sleep like this. You turned to tell San that you’re going to wind down in the living room when he approached you from behind. His lips are like sweet caresses along the slope of your shoulder. “Come back to bed with me,” he murmured, as if he could sense you were pulling away.

“Sannie,” You turned around in his embrace, “My mind--”

San’s eyes travel over your face, a hand cupping one side. “You’re vibrating with the need to leave. Let me put you to sleep.” Gently, San tilted your head with the same guiding hand, peppering kisses along your jawline. 

Your heart soared and then crashed into your guilt. You couldn't possibly--not after what you did with Killjoy… “San, I’m really tired,” You protested.

“You’re not,” San disagreed with a rumble deep in his chest. “Even if your body may be, your mind is restless. I can help.”

San swept the straps of your pjs off your shoulders and continued to kiss down your neck to your collarbones. You can’t help but moan at the feel of his lips on your skin. Was your boyfriend seducing you?

"Where are you going, Loveshot? You're still thinking about me. You'll think about me later, won't you?"

Your body became tense with the sudden intrusion. Your powers brewed on the tip of your tongue and the pads of your fingers. You’d never use your powers against San but the need to push him off, to not mingle his touches with that of Killjoy’s was important!

“I have a better idea,” You found yourself suggesting before you could stop your treacherous tongue. “Let’s watch each other masturbate.”

San’s eyes widened considerably at your suggestion. “What?!”

Now it’s your turn to seduce. You ditched your top completely, to sit back on your shared bed and lie back, propping yourself up with your elbows. “Want you to watch me while I touch myself, Sannie,” You purred, “Wanna watch you while you touch yourself.”

San stumbled, as if his feet were moving him unbiddenly, but he made it to the edge of the bed where you were. You move so that the two of you are opposite of each other, a full view of whatever the other one’s planning on doing. You massage your breasts, making them pucker in the cool early morning air. San licked his lips like he wished they were wrapped around them. His eyes move to meet yours, waiting for you to start.

“Before we got together, when we were just friends, I used to get off to the idea of you sneaking in my bed and eating me out,” You said shakily. “I would play with my nipples and put so much lube on my pussy, using one of those flower vibrators, wishing it was your tongue. I had convinced myself that you loved eating pussy and it was something I wanted you to want with me.”

San groaned and began to palm himself through his sleep pants. “We were idiots.”

You couldn't help but giggle. “We were.”

San watched with rapt attention as you pulled aside your underwear and dipped a finger into your wetness. You spread it along your clit, moving in slow, tantalizing circles, careful of how abused your clit had been just a few hours ago by your own self torture. “Sannie?” You prompted him.

San snapped out of his deep thought while watching your finger circle your clit and pulled himself out of his confines. “I used to want you to use your power on me.” His voice cracked and he had to clear it. “Make me do whatever you want me to do. I used to edge myself for hours alone on the thought that you’d never let me cum unless it was inside of you--pussy or mouth.” San’s blunt fingernails dug into his thighs but he didn’t touch himself.

You stop touching yourself and crawled towards San’s body. “Do you need some lubrication?” 

San whimpered as you hovered over him, hands on either side of his hips. You spit on his cock, letting it slowly dribble downwards. You leaned downwards, almost as if you were going to take him in your mouth but instead you simply blew air on him. San’s hips thrust into the air, whining again. “Please,” he asked but you weren’t sure he even knew what he was asking for.

“Go ahead and touch yourself,” You encouraged him.

“ ‘m sensitive,” San mumbled, eyelashes fluttering against his cheekbones as he blinked many times, a cute pout pulling at his lips.

You can’t help but grin at the admission. “Did you masturbate while I was out, Sannie?”

San’s body jerked backwards, a loud gasp in the back of his throat. “N-no.”

You dropped your body so that you could take San’s cock in your mouth with one quick dip of your mouth. San’s body strains at being encompassed suddenly by your warm, wet mouth. Tiny thrusts into your mouth tell you all San wants is to get off in your mouth and by the throb of your lower half, all you want is to give it to him. 

"I imagine your muffled noises as I push your face into my pelvis, making you take all of my dick.

How is it that you're sucking off your sweet boyfriend and you can't get Killjoy's degrading voice out of your head?

At that exact same moment, San's hands grab both sides of your head and he began to fuck your mouth. You have no time to think, only time to make sure your breaths time with the in-and-out motion of his cock down your throat. Your nose practically buries itself into San's bronze skin, mouth coming flush with the base of his cock. San had never--

Just as quickly as he held you down on him, he pulled you off of him. You stare up at him, saliva and precum dripping from your open, panting lips. “San?”

San adjusted immediately, a dopey sweet smile pulling at his lips, making his eyes become crescent moons. “I don't want to cum in your mouth.”

You're fast to climb onto his lap, arms draped over his broad shoulders. “My baby,” You couldn't help but coo, “You really do put me first, don't you?”

San smiled shyly, scratching the back of his head. “I love you, that's why.”

Your heart burst at the admission. “I love you too, sweet boy.”

The two of you moved your hips in sync, exchanging kisses and moans, as you made love in your shared bed. This was where you wanted to be: in San's arms, drinking in his noises of pleasure, being the center of his world. You didn't want to be with--

Your climax hit you like a slow burn and the first thing that tumbled from your mouth was the name you had been thinking of. “Killjoy!” you groaned quietly.

San’s body was ramrod straight even though you could feel his dick twitching inside of you, his cry cut off at what you said. You scrambled to remove yourself from his body but San wrapped his arms around you to keep you firmly in place.

“What did you just say?” San said in a voice that broke your heart into a million pieces.

“No-nothing,” You stuttered, throat full of emotions.

“Where did you go when they called you out,” San demanded again, bringing up his question from earlier.

“I told you, the subway--!” You squealed as your back hit the bed, San pinning you down with his heavy body against yours.

San reached for your hand and squeezed it tightly, intertwining your fingers with his . “You have two seconds to answer me correctly before I read your mind, love.”

“San!” You gasped and visibly reeled back. San never invaded the minds of the ones he loved, he swore he would never. 

San licked his lips, a frown furrowing his eyebrows. “I’m not asking casually.”

Your gut was telling you that suddenly your entire world depended on the answer to this question and you had no idea where it would land you. “I was on the rooftop of The Treasure Hotel.”

San cursed lowly. “Loveshot?”

Your heart was beating a mile a minute. Had San just guessed your alter ego? What did that mean? 

San let go of your hand and shakingly raised it to his face. You thought he was going to rub it tiredly over his face, somehow privy to you cheating on him with your arch nemesis. “Sannie, please, it was nothing!” You cried out.

Instead, he covered his eyes and smirked. “I already know.”

Your blood chilled in your veins. 

The masked villain smirked, folding his arms over his well-developed chest. “You can drop the act. I know.”

“Killjoy?” You yelled in disbelief.

And, you swear to God, San's dick pulsed inside of you upon hearing his alter ego's name upon your lips in your shared bed.

“No,” You shook your head. There was no fucking way your best friend, your boyfriend, was an evil villain?

Flashbacks to the supe's college you both attended, the way you were both outcasts, vaguely bringing up your powers as the reason. Bonding over wanting to overcome your natural abilities and prove to everyone you were good. 

“Someday, the world won’t judge me,” San had proclaimed. Clearly that had not crossed over very well.

It all came crumbling down around you. 

San lowered his hand and there was a glint in his eye. “If I had known…”

In some fucked up way, relief flooded you. You hadn't cheated on San; you simply masturbated with his alter ego. That was okay… right?

“Are we…” How were you going to meld the two worlds together, how could you continue to date and fuck a villain, how-- “Are we okay?”

San’s lips surged towards yours in a kiss that was desperate and messy and yet somehow full of love and adoration. “Do you still love me?” San gasped into your mouth. 

You looked up at the man who was your everything. Even now, knowing he was your arch nemesis and had been for a long time, he was even more so your everything. He was your world when you weren’t working and he was your obsession when you were. Was this going to fuck up your job? Absolutely. Was it going to fuck up your relationship?

“I love you like the sun loves the moon,” You admitted. Surely the two bodies in the sky were enemies, constantly chasing after each other, constantly fighting for time in the sky. 

A subtle shift of San’s hips had you gasping. He was hard inside of you. His eyes were alight with love and mischief and lust. “I love you like a villain loves a hero.”

And that was the end of that conversation.

taglist: @hijirikaww @flurrys-creativity @stardragongalaxy @mingsolo @k-pop-ology

special suffer with me braincell tag: @smallfrye

#MochaMadness:ThePerfectPairing #cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #pirateeznet #ateez smut #choi san smut #atz smut #ateez san smut #choi san x reader #ateez x reader #ღatz #topaz's work

[tragedybunny]

A Merry Little Solstice - Astarion x F!Reader - BG3HolidayFluffle23 - Prompt: Chosen Family

So excited to participate in the Challenge, not sure if I'll get to more than one piece but I love this one I did. Thanks to @rachelle-on-the-run for the Beta!

Summary: Even though you and Astarion have been together a few years, this is the first time you'll be celebrating Solstice together, for a very special reason. The two of you are doing your best to make it a warm and wonderful celebration.

“What do you think?” Astarion is fussing over the distribution of small, glass ornaments and candles on the large pine tree taking up most of your parlor. 

“I think it looks wonderful, Star.” You can already see his tendency for the grandiose creeping in, and don’t want him to worry about overdoing it. At least you’d convinced him to close down the bookshop, the two of you ran out of the building next door for a few days while you celebrate. It was a newer venture that you had taken on lately, as you’d settled down in Baldur’s Gate after a few years of adventuring. 

“I suppose, the tree could be a bit bigger, though,” he mumbles, shifting a few of the baubles around. All the effort, and probably a good amount of nerves, making him prickly. 

“It’s plenty big, and Jaheira didn’t have to grow it for us.” The pine had been a little seedling, given the growth of years in moments by Druid magic. 

“Well, it was Mother’s idea in the first, so we could celebrate Solstice properly.” Mother, he says sarcastically, like he doesn’t grin when she calls him nicknames or get teary-eyed when she hugs him good-bye to go out on Harper business. There wasn’t any grand declaration when Jaheira decided she was adopting Astarion with the rest of her brood, but there was no stopping her from embracing it when she’d made up her mind. Not that it hasn’t done him a world of good, even if he doesn’t always like to admit it. 

“My Love, it was your idea to actually celebrate Solstice this year.” Astarion had, until this year, not been very fond of Holidays. A stance you decided you could live with, as your own experiences hadn’t been very warm and wonderful. This year, though, things were different. “The tree looks wonderful,”  a sudden little squeal followed by soft babbling came from the bassinet behind you, “and Estelle thinks so too.” It was Estelle’s first Solstice, and you both had decided it was time to make some better Holiday memories. 

Astarion hurries to retrieve her before she can demand it. He’s notorious for baby hoarding, and sometimes you have to remind him it’s your turn to hold the child you gave birth too. “You’re hardly qualified to have an opinion, Sweetie.” He wags his finger in front of her nose, and she grabs it quickly in return with a happy little trill, refusing to let go. 

When you’d first been able to lay eyes on her, it was already apparent she was a miniature version of Astarion, his features, pale skin, and wispy white hair that had grown into the beginnings of lush curls. The only thing that looked like you were bright blue eyes, which had relieved him to no end. “Red eyes would mark her as different far too obviously.” It was nice to see one part of yourself in her, though you didn’t mind that she was so much of him. 

Estelle was now suckling on Astarion’s outstretched finger. “Close to feeding time, you’ll have to relinquish her for a little,” you give him a saucy smile and settle on the couch to prep. 

Apparently he didn’t move quick enough for your offspring, as he hisses and gives Estelle the weakest glare you’ve ever seen him make. “Everyone is always telling me biting without permission is rude, I hardly think it’s fair you get away with it, Little Lady.” 

“Think of it as repayment for past misdeed,” you laugh as you begin to open your shirt.

“Are you still holding that night against me, my dearest wife? That’s ruthlessly unfair,” he settles next to you, waiting for you to finish before putting Estelle in your arms. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, darling husband” you bat your eyes at him and play innocent until you feel the stinging bite of the two tiny teeth she's recently grown.  Estelle is apparently equitably minded about causing pain this evening. “Ouch,” you whisper, not wanting to disturb her evening meal. 

Beside you, Astarion’s mood visibly falters. “What are we going to do when she grows fangs?”

You certainly aren't looking forward to it, but the love of your life was still considerably nervous about what the future would hold for your little Dhampir. “What we always do, get through it.”

“You're very confident.”

“Well, I did save the world once.”

He finally gives you a smile. “We, Darling, I was there too. I suppose you're right, though.” He turns his attention to intently watching his daughter nurse. “We've come this far.” Leaning in, he gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek, carefully not to upset her. “Besides the tree, how does everything else look?” 

The parlor, dining room, hallway, and library had all been draped in festive boughs of evergreen with golden ribbon and strands of silvery beads. It was just this side of too much, but it was very Astarion. “Everything looks fantastic, Love. It's going to be a wonderful holiday. Now we’ll just have to keep Scratch and Midnight out of it.” 

“Speak for your own mutt,” Scratch whined where he lay in front of the crackling fire place. “Midnight is a perfectly well-behaved tressym.” 

Midnight, the tressym that had prowled Szarr manor, the Spawn siblings had kept their fondness for the creature from Cazador. They’d decided not to take her into the Underdark, and she’d ended up in your custody along with Scratch. She was, despite Astarion’s protests, not perfect. “Oh, I’m sure, she’s never any trouble.” 

“Hush,” he pretended to pout before sighing. “Odd that I get to walk in the sun again, and now we're celebrating the longest night of the year.” He gave the room one last appraising glance. “Gods, we’re really going to squeeze everyone in here.”

“At least Halsin promised to leave the Owlbear behind.” Estelle had finished eating and Astarion passed you a cloth to burp her with. 

“Gale still insisted on coming early to cook. We could handle it, you know.” The complaints tell you he really is quite nervous. 

“We could, or we could spend more time with Little Lady here,” who punctuated your words with an undignified burp. 

“Point taken Sunlight.” You pass Estelle to his waiting arms so you can close your shirt.

In the soft candlelight of the winter evening, Astarion looks absolutely ethereal. For a precious few moments, you just study him and your daughter. Since the moment she was born, he'd absolutely adored her. Fear still haunted him, fear her life would be too difficult as a Dhampir, fear he would fail as a father, but he tried his best every day. And those days when he did falter, when bad memories surfaced, when his temper was short, you were by his side. Not that you didn't have your share of fears and shadows from your past, but you knew he'd be there for you the way you were for him. Your bond made you both stronger. 

Right now, though, everything felt perfect. It was going to be the happiest Solstice you'd even known. 

A few days later saw you up before dawn on the morning of Solstice. Estelle had decided it was play time at an ungodly hour and now you, Astarion, and Scratch, were all gathered around a blanket spread on your parlor rug entertaining her. Your attention wanders for a moment, and she squeals at you. “Oh, I know, you have to be the center of the universe. You're very much your Father’s daughter,” you reach down and tickle her tummy. 

“Or maybe she knows she's worth it, like her Mother,” he blows you a kiss and your heart flutters like the first time you let him sink his teeth into you. 

“Flattery…” an unexpected knock at the door interrupts you. 

Scratch lets out a quiet bark, careful not to startle Estelle. He learned quickly that a scared baby is a crying baby. “This early? The wizard has finally lost his mind.” 

You both get to your feet, exchanging looks, it is unexpectedly early for Gale. Taking Estelle, you hang back as Astarion opens the door, Scratch at his side, ever vigilant. 

Gale stands in pre-dawn darkness, one magical chest in his hand that contains everything you'll need for today. “You know, it's still dark out? We could've been asleep.” Astarion stares at him with narrowed eyes. 

“Ah, but I see you are all awake and in good spirits,” he smiles awkwardly, and you get the impression that he's working up to something. “Besides, it was entirely necessary to arrive before dawn…”

“Really?” Astarion crosses his arms, waiting for further explanation. 

“Astarion,” you kiss his cheek, “don't be so cross with him.”

“Give it a moment,” Gale mutters, and you both turn to him. “I mean that is…well…” 

“Hells Gale,” a pale figure steps into the doorway with him, one that you recognize. 

“Dal?” Astarion asks, and you can see confusion starting to give way to realization. 

“Hello Astarion.”

“Alright, no use you two standing out in the cold, come in.” You look directly at Dalyria, a little unsure if the invitation needs renewal every so often. “Both of you.” 

The two of them waste no time stepping inside and quickly closing the door behind them, shutting you off from the cold of the early morning.

Estelle coos happily at the company. “And hello to you too, my sweet little niece. She's getting so big.” Some of the siblings had made the trek up from the Underdark when Estelle was born, Dalyria among them. It was a strange dynamic of almost family that years after Cazador’s death they were still working out.

“Yes, yes, she's endlessly adorable. She is mine, after all. Now, what the bloody hell are the two of you doing here together?” His voice pitches up at the end, a sign he's exasperated. You almost lose your composure and giggle at his inability to see the obvious. 

“Well, as it happens…” Gale inhales like he's about to launch into a very long-winded explanation. 

“We've been seeing each other since your wedding. It felt like it was time to tell you.” To emphasize her point, she hooks her arm in Gale's.

“I see.” Astarion shoots you a look to see if you knew about this, and is evidently satisfied by your shrug. 

“Don't be cross brother,” Dalyria lets go of Gale to pull him into a sudden hug, that he returns after a moment. “We just wanted to wait until we were sure of things”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically. “I suppose you're forgiven.”

She kisses his cheek and releases him. “Thank you. Now, to not take away from the little daylight you'll get today, is there a place I can wait it out?”

“Estelle and I can show you up to the guest room,” you motion for her to follow. All the rooms in your house had shutters thick enough to block out the sun, remnants of Astarion’s recently relieved nocturnal life. 

The guest room is a cozy little room tucked under the eves of the house, the last bedroom remaining after Estelle’s nursery was created out of the previous guest room. “Sorry, it’s a bit small.” 

“Still better than a night in the Kennels, I’d wager,” she laughs.

Her words make you wince, sometimes you forget they all shared in the same torment, maybe not as often as Astarion, but still. “I imagine. I’m-” 

“Don’t, I’m just making light of it.” You’ve never quite gotten to know her and the others all that well, your trips to the Underdark being sporadic at best, but now you glimpse that unbroken will that led her to look for a cure to her condition. “This is very nice of you, Gale and I will be perfectly comfortable.” 

“We’ll come back up and check in once I’ve turned Gale loose in the kitchen,” Estelle shouts her agreement. 

“Send my brother up if he needs a time-out from Gale.” The two of you laugh, and you head back downstairs, worried about that exact thing. 

Astarion doesn’t disappoint as you find him in the kitchen, the first pink light of dawn peeping  through the window, lending a flush to his skin as he pins Gale against a wall, dagger drawn. “And another thing, if ever even think of trying to compare her to Mystra...”

To his credit, Gale stands calmly, hands raised, and look imploringly at you. “I think you've gotten your point across, Love.”

“Fine,” he sighs dramatically and releases your wizard friend. The dagger quickly disappears, you've learned over time that he never really got out of the habit of keeping one hidden on himself. “And you owe me at least two books back, my shop is not a library.” 

“Right,” Gale straightens his clothing. “Now that's all settled, let's get started.” He hefts the small chest onto the kitchen table, and opens it. A space larger than the outside is contained within, a larder to do even the Grand Duke's shame. “I hope I remembered everything.”

The next several hours see the three of you prepping, roasting, sautéing, simmering, and baking. Although Gale truthfully does most of the heavy lifting, you and Astarion are both very much middling still when it comes to the kitchen. You take turns playing assistant, passing Estelle between the two of you, and Astarion pops up to visit Dal. 

The sun is just on its way down when there's another knock at the door. The first of the evening's guests, Astarion goes to answer it while you continue to stir the sauce Gale had declared a “flavor near divine”. 

“Bat pup!” The unmistakable voice of Jaheira fill the house.

“Hello Mother,” Astarion replies warmly. 

The Mother thing had actually begun as a joke. During the time trying to defeat the Absolute, one of Astarion’s petulant comments had prompted Jaheira to tell him if he was going to act like a child, she would put him over her knee like one. He’d responded with a sarcastic, “yes Mother”, and an eye roll. 

“Better, Cub,” Jaheira had laughed, unfazed by his antics. When he insisted she not call him Cub she looked at him and smiled. “You’re right, Bat Pup is much more suitable.” They’d been that way since, the tone of it softening over time. Despite his age, all the time spent as Cazador’s slave and not really living had left Astarion closer mentally to who he was at his time of death, where Jaheira was very much the sum total of her life experience. 

“And there’s my favorite little troublemaker.” You can hear Estelle’s excited trill for her “grandmother”. You’ll give them a few minutes to catch up.  

Involuntarily, you smile as you keep a close watch on the sauce. “A wonderful sound, isn’t it?” You turn to Gale, giving him a puzzled look at his words. “The sound of happiness,” his eyes twinkle at the words. “If you had told me years ago that Astarion would be happy and content as a family man with a bookshop, I would have laughed. But here we are.” 

“So would I, if we’re being honest.” A part of you remembers a clandestine confession from him, intentionally far away from Astarion’s hearing. Feelings you couldn’t return. “I’m glad you found someone too, Gale.” 

“Indeed. Sometimes the things we think we want most aren’t the things we need. A lesson I’ve learned more than a few times. Although it didn’t take me nearly as long to learn that as much as it seemed Astarion needed you, you needed him too.” For a moment, the two of you are lost in memories of that harrowing time. “Ah, but let me save myself from distraction and monitor this roast. The others will be arriving soon. And you should go visit with Jaheira before she has to go back to the other children.” He gives you a warm smile and shoos you away. 

“Helps with the pain of those little teeth coming in. I’ve got a few growing, I should be able to keep you stocked.” 

Reaching the parlor, you find Estelle, happily chewing on some plant leaf in Jaheira’s lap and Astarion looking like he’s fighting the urge to snatch her back. The two of you had a serious talk about this holiday celebration and letting other people hold her for more than a few seconds. “There’s my Cub, the famous hero.”

“Hello Crow,” you’d never been able to think of her in the same maternal sense as Astarion, your own motherly relationship was so messy it bled into any others. Truthfully it had made you nervous as to what it would be like to be a mother, but the sound of Estelle’s first cries had soothed away any lingering doubts, you may not be perfect at it, but you would fight for her happiness every day. “She looks like she’s having a good time,” you gesture to Estelle and the leaf. 

“That’s the best Solstice gift so far. It was a nightmare when the first two came through, and I know others will be starting soon. I see you’re managing to behave yourself, Love,” you kiss Astarion’s cheek to emphasize your approval as you sit next to him.

“As if she wouldn’t entangle me or some nonsense if I didn’t let her hold the grandchild. But then again, she is getting a bit old, maybe she’s slowed down.” 

“Watch yourself Astarion or you will find out what I’m still capable of.” 

The sun is sinking behind the horizon as the last of the shortest day of the year comes to a close. Dalyria descends to join you all, Midnight nestled in her arms, the tressym deigning to leave her attic kingdom for once. Astarion stokes the fireplace, leaving the room in a warm glow. Scratch immediately gives up on the vigil he’s been keeping at the kitchen door to lay in front of the fire. 

Underneath the tree, brightly colored presents wait for unwrapping. There’s a knock on the door as the next of your friends arrive. Over the next hour, they all show up. Lae’zel and Shadowheart, newly engaged and figuring out just what sort of wedding a Gith and Half-Elf should have. Wyll and Karlch, lovers and heroes of the Sword Coast now that they’ve returned permanently from Avernus. Minsc and Boo, very much in Holiday Spirit. And finally Halsin, unexpectedly with a shy looking Drow man on his arm. “I hope one more isn’t imposing,” he says with a nervous yet excited smile. “This is Veltris.” 

“We can make work,” truthfully you’re terribly intrigued by the man who has Halsin so clearly smitten and you lead them inside to join the others.

Someone has passed a wine bottle around the parlor now heating up with all the bodies gathered there. Astarion has a dosing Estelle back in his arms, who somehow is undisturbed by the chatter all around. “Try this,” Dalyria passes him a glass poured from a distinct blue bottle, “I’m preserving blood for long term storage.” 

He makes a face but keeps drinking. “I suppose it is better than nothing.” 

You settle back down next to him, taking a glass Wyll has passed you. “Always the gentleman,” you smile at him. 

“Does he do more than kiss your hand behind close doors?” You’ll never get over Lae’zel’s sense of humor. 

“Well, not always,” Karlach gives you a wink.

“Do tell?” Shadowheart teases.

“I’ll have you know…” Wyll tries to defend himself.

‘My daughter is right here!” Astarion huffs. “Gods, Gale had better finish dinner soon before you all get any more wine in you.” 

“As it just so happens,” the Wizard appears in the doorway of your dining room. 

“Finally,” Astarion huffs. 

The others get up and start making their toward the wafting scent of a mouthwatering feast. “Minsc hopes you have made enough for Boo’s tremendous appetite!”

“I had better go before the young ones burn the house down,” Jaheira leans over to give Astarion a hug. “Behave yourself Bat Pup, and you too Cub,” she gives you a last wave and heads to the door. 

You start to get up to follow the others, and Astarion grips your hand. “What is it?” For a moment, you worry something has gone wrong.

His head leans on your shoulder. “Nothing, it’s just…” The silence leaves your heart heavy with worry. “Everything is so perfect, more than I ever thought possible.” You can hear the tears in his voice, but don’t say anything, he doesn’t always like to draw attention to large emotions. “A holiday with you, and Estelle, and all of them, a family.” 

“Our family, Starry Sky, and this is the first of many to come.” 

The two of you take a quick moment for yourselves, basking in the glow of the fire, and the perfect Solstice evening with the ones you love. 

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