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#who's gonna write the smut
sceletaflores · 19 days
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thinking about college!patrick bending you over in the bathroom at a house party. 18+
you really should have known better than to let patrick take your hand and drag you away from drunkenly dirty dancing with tashi in the middle of the room.
maybe it was the two vodka redbull’s you slammed—or the joint you and tashi stole from some underclassmen trying to get into your pants—clouding your judgement.
whatever it was allowed you to let the strong grip of patrick’s hand guide you through the dance floor. weaving through crowded bodies gyrating to nelly furtado and up the stairs of whoever’s house this was until patrick pushed open the door to a blessedly empty bathroom, and yanks you inside.
you can’t even start to ask him what the hell you're doing in here before he’s got you pinned up against the door and fucking your mouth with his tongue. your surprised moan is muffled by patrick's mouth as he messily kisses you. he tastes like cheep beer and cigarettes.
"do you have any idea how fucking hot you look?" he grates out against your spit slick lips, grabbing the meat of your hips a little too harshly. "i've been hard for the last thirty minutes because you," he says, tone accusatory like you deliberately caused the hard line of his erection currently pressing into your stomach, "you did this, now you have to deal with it."
well that's how it started. now patricks got you bent over the sink of some randoms bathroom, panties pooled at your ankles and skirt hiked up around your hips as he sinks his unfairly huge cock into your already drenched pussy. "you got this worked up just from my tongue in your mouth? jesus, you're such an easy slut."
he barely gives you any time to get used to the thick stretch of his dick before he's moving, thrusting hard enough to sting your ass with the force of his hips smacking against you. "fuck! patrick— shit!" you moan loudly, grabbing the edge of the sinks counter to brace yourself. patrick's quick to shush you harshly, plastering himself to your back and shoving his thick fingers into your mouth to muffle the too loud keens and squeals he's fucking out of you.
"there's probably a line out there," he rasps wetly into your hair, leaning down to lick the shell of your ear, "you gotta be quiet baby, you don't want everyone out there hearing how much of a slut you are for my cock, do you?"
your cheeks burn fiercely as patrick's hot breath ghosts over your ear, spewing filth as he rams his thick cock into your tight, clenching hole over and over, the rough material of his jeans scratching against your skin since he couldn’t be bothered to do more than unzip and whip his cock out, too eager to get in you. the squelch that his cock makes on each mean stroke into your wet pussy has your ears tingling and your thighs shaking.
there's banging coming from the other side of the door, an angry voice shouting as the knob is jostled harshly, "bro hurry the fuck up!"
patricks pace doesn't even falter. if anything the snap of his hips speeds up. "fuck off!" his rough voice shouts back, hand moving from off your hip and up to your shoulder, letting him force you back to meet his thrusts. you moan around his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel the familiar warmth start to grow in the pit of your stomach.
“fuck yeah, i can feel you fucking clenching up on me. you gonna come baby?” he grips your hair is his fist, yanking your head to the side to seal his lips on your neck. “yeah, me too. fucking shit, i’m gonna bust all in your fucking pussy baby. you better come with me. you better fucking come with me.”
that’s all it takes before you’re coming on patrick’s dick. you think you may scream, biting down way too hard on the fingers still in your mouth. patrick’s not far behind, cock giving one final jerk before he’s spraying your insides with his warm come. he sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder in an attempt to stifle his groans as he comes. he doesn’t stop thrusting, letting each of you ride out your orgasms. only just as it gets to be a little too much does he stop.
patrick stays with his sweaty forehead pressed to your shoulder for a few beats, breathing heavily as he comes down from draining his balls so deep in your guts. slowly, he raises his head to meet your eyes in the reflection of the mirror. his face is flushed, curly black hair stuck to his forehead. he looks completely fucked, you both do. your hair is a mess and there’s two angry red hickeys already darkening on your neck.
patrick smirks at the state of both of you reflecting back at him in the mirror, hooking his chin over your shoulder with a stupid smug look on his face. no doubt relishing in the fact that the two of you have to go back down looking like this. he drops your hair from his fist and pulls his fingers out of your mouth, wiping the drool that leaked out around them as he does.
“i hate you,” you mutter quietly, still trying to catch your breath. patrick snorts out a laugh, wincing when he pulls his sensitive cock out of you. “yeah sure,” he replies, tucking himself back into his jeans and zipping up. he drops to his knees behind you, at first you think he’s going for round two but as you open your mouth to protest he starts pulling your panties up your legs and over your ass.
“you need to wear this dress more often.” he says, planting a sweet kiss on your left ass cheek, well as sweet a kiss he can while still nipping at your soft skin. you don’t respond with words, only an annoyed huff as you drop you skirt back down around your hips.
you just have to hope that it’s long enough to cover the stream of patrick’s come trickling down your thighs.
—————
taglist!
@callsign-artemis @ebodebo @yuenity
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plutoswritingplanet · 2 months
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Hand That Feeds (Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female!Reader) pt. 2
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a/n: this one's a bit shorter, next one will have smut, i am so fcking sleepy writing this i'll have to check tomorrow it this isn't a hallucination
Warnings: Horny Violence, Blood and Guts, Suggestive Themes, we're on a steady route to pound town
Summary: Cooper catches his prize, but an uninvited guest puts a strain on an already rocky relationship. Cross-Posted on AO3
PT. 1
You must be a Vault Dweller. Truly. There is no other way to explain the utter lack of self-preservation skills.
Cooper finds you almost immediately after the sun sets. He can see the flickering light of your small bonfire through the trees, and languidly, he stalks forwards, opting to stay in the shadows to observe you a moment longer. 
You're sitting on the ground, back leaning against a destroyed carcass of a plane. Hair pushed out of your face, Cooper can see the flames illuminating your focused expression with warm light. Once again, he's struck by this seemingly regal air around you. Like you've been raised in a castle, far from this fucked up place, that is now his home. A princess, stuck in harsh reality. Eyebrows furrowed, bottom lip tucked hard between your teeth, you seem to be pondering over something.
With quick motions, you take your messenger bag, opening it and dumping its contents onto the ground in front of you. It's somewhat hard to see, but the sound of small glass bottles knocking into each other is telling enough. 
Taking stock of your inventory, you begin to tuck everything back into the bag. Chems upon chems, RadAway, RadX, quite the little drug library, and Cooper's eyes immediately lock onto his most sought after, amber liquid. Why would a Smoothie like you need any of that stuff is beyond him. He hasn't seen any Ghouls in the small town you hail from. 
Perks of the job, he thinks to himself, as you stack away at least five vials.
At the last bottle, you hesitate, bringing it up towards the light, and looking at it with a worried expression. The liquid swirls inside, and Cooper watches from the shadows, as you press the cold glass against your forehead in a motion eerily reminding him of a prayer. Your shoulders shudder, and Cooper's mangled ears strain, as he sees your mouth move.
- Let me be brave - you whisper to the vial, like some ancient spell, and something new tightens in his chest, something he immediately brushes away.
Then, he sees you lift a very familiar piece of equipment, putting it on your wrist, and begin to tweak something in the controls. A Pip-Boy. Old and battered, but apparently still working. All his confusing feelings are wiped clean in an instant. Now, he's truly intrigued. The clasps seem slightly too big for your hand, and the device slides the length of your arm, as you move. 
You sigh, heavily, then press something, and the Geiger meter clicks to life, picking up on stray radiation. Cooper feels his muscles tense, knowing all too well, why the device has activated so rapidly. As a Ghoul, he leaves a trail of radiation, that follows him wherever he goes. He wasn't particularly aware, that a Pip-Boy could pick up on it, but he wasn't surprised either.
 The sound makes you freeze in your spot. Slowly, you scan the area, your hand extended towards the darkening outline of the surrounding trees. As your hand passes by the place Cooper has chosen as his hiding spot, the meter grows louder. 
Jumping to your feet, you raise the blasted thing in front of you, your other hand tugging at the waistband of your skirt, freeing your trusted kitchen knife. As if to double-check, you put your hand somewhere to the back, listening to the quiet cracking noise. 
You can't fully confirm your suspicions on time, as Cooper springs to action. 
A thick line of rope falls over your shoulders, and before you have the chance to react, the loop around you tightens. Your entire body is tugged with surprising force in the direction of the treeline. Loosing your footing, you collapse onto the damp forest floor, chin scraping in the process. The yelp of shock tearing out of your throat, rings through the surrounding area, before you literally, eat dirt. The force of the impact wrenches the knife from your hand, as it bends at an uncomfortable angle. The weapon lands somewhere in the grass, the blade reflecting the flames.
Wiggling like a worm, trying to free yourself from the bounds, you notice a pair of well-worn shoes entering your vision. They cross the remaining distance, stopping just short of your head. Knees crack as your attacker squats down, before taking your hair into a hard grip and lifting your head from the dirt. 
Your face twists in pain, neck craning uncomfortably, and with an overwhelming feeling of finality, your eyes land onto the face of a ghoul. The Ghoul. He turns his head slightly to the side with the meanes of grins, before letting go of your hair, your head falling back into the dirt. 
- Oh, motherfucker - you groan, pulling your legs up, and attempting to get up.
- Stay down - the Ghoul's voice is rough and biting, and sudden pressure on your back pins you to the ground. - Do you know how fuckin' stupid it is, to light a fire in the wilderness? Any unsightly character could pick you off in seconds. 
Spitting out stray clumps of earth and grass from your mouth, you scoff at his scolding tone.
- Thankfully, there are no unsightly characters here, huh? 
- Oh, I wouldn't say that, sweetheart. - the bounty hunter tugs the toe of his shoe under your side, and kicks up, turning your body.
You roll onto your back, throwing a nasty look at the Ghoul, as he secures the loop of his lasso. His eyes reflect the light in the most haunting of ways, and you squirm under his gaze, which drags itself across your body, stopping briefly at the tips of your breasts, peaking from under your shirt. Swallowing thickly, your muscles relax, in hopes of loosening the rope. It barely gives, but your limbs recover some wiggle room. 
Cooper blinks, his head jerking to the side, and only as he brings his hand up, do you register the gun in his hand. Making sure you can see it, he turns towards your messenger bag, grabbing it from the ground where you left it. 
He sits down, somewhere outside your field of vision, and you risk pulling yourself up into a sitting position. He doesn't seem to mind it now, too busy with rummaging through your belongings. Finally, he pulls out a vial of amber liquid, watching it swirl in the flickering light of the bonfire. 
- Now - Cooper starts, as he grabs the inhaler from his pocket, inserting the vial into it - Why would a backwoods healer have something like this on 'er?
Rolling your shoulders ever so slightly, the rope slides further down your arms, and you regard the Ghoul with a venomous rendition of a "are you fucking dumb?" look. Which he doesn't appreciate. His hands tremble, as he closes his mouth over the inhaler, taking a long hit, draining the entire vial. You try very hard, not to notice the low moan flowing out of him, as the drug enters his system. Or the way his eyes flutter blissfully for just a second. 
- You never know, who might be needing help... - you mutter, wincing at the biting pain in your limbs.
- Well ain't that considerate of you - he coughs into his gloved hand, before sighing deeply, his head reclining back against the plane's exterior, his eyes closed.
From where you're sitting, he looks weirdly handsome. Rugged and very much Ghoul-like, but handsome nonetheless. The skin of his neck is pulled taunt, and in the flickering light of a dying bonfire, you can see a myriad of scars, littering any surface of his skin that's visible. Still, there were other matters at hand, that needed your attention, and you try to shift in your seat as quietly as possible, slowly but surely sliding the rope down your body. 
- Next time you try to run away, I'll shoot you - your efforts are stilled by his warning tone, and by the way he waves his gun at you, you know he'll make good on this promise.
- Thought you needed me in good condition.
To that, he finally throws you a look from under his cowboy hat. 
- Good... - he confirms, his other hand slowly shortening the length of the rope connecting the both of you - Ain't the same as mint. 
The loop suddenly digs further into your flesh, and you grunt at the uncomfortable feeling of the rough rope scratching at your exposed upper arms. 
Unfortunately, he's right. During your time as the local healer, you've done many questionable things to ensure the well-being of the town. One of those things, was dealing with organ harvesters. You've only bought a limb or a finger, every once in a while, as if that was some consolation for your darkened soul. Those moments quickly taught you, that something being good was most certainly not the same as ideal. Or mint, as your captor has supplied. 
- You a Vault-Dweller? - the Ghoul finally asks, breaking the small spell of silence between you.
The question doesn't surprise you, and you lift the Pip-Boy as far up, as the lasso allows you. Which isn't a lot. 
- Nah - the flames dance on your suddenly melancholic expression, and Cooper drinks it all up, curiosity spiking with each new information - My mother was. She ran away from her Vault when she was a teenager and joined the Brotherhood soon after. 
- The Brotherhood doesn't recruit women - Cooper turns his body towards you, fishing for lies like a shark sniffing for blood. 
- Oh, it doesn't? - your lips pull back into a teasing smile, which perhaps isn't the smartest thing to do, but entertainment is scarce in the Wastelands, and you're determined to have some fun - She posed as a man for years, picked up a job as a medic.
Cooper hums to himself, inviting you to elaborate with an inclination of his head. 
- There, she met my father - you continue, looking over at the last glowing embers of the bonfire - They were discovered, court martialed for treason. They escaped together and had me somewhere along the way.
Your Pip-Boy still cracks, the radiation emanating from the Ghoul making the Geiger meter go haywire. With soft eyes, your hand traces the outline of the screen, watching the way green light dances on your fingers. 
- The forbidden love of the Wasteland - you sigh into the silence - Sounds like a title of some romance novel, no?
- Or a bad porno - Cooper grumbles, rolling his eyes.
- What's a porno?
His head snaps towards you in record speed, a myriad of emotions running through his mangled expression. It settles on deep annoyance, when he notices the sly smirk on your lips, and you have to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing. 
- Gotcha - your attempt at finger guns is pathetic at best.
- Oh, you think you're a fucking comedian, huh? - the bounty hunter asks, a slight amused tint to his words, which you consider to be a small victory.
- That's why they put a bounty on me - you giggle - I'm too damned funny. 
- Shut it.
The sudden change in his tone catches you off guard, and you cock an eyebrow at him, confused. The Ghoul looks much more tense than seconds ago, his hand tightening around his gun. One of his legs kicks up a pile of dirt, smothering the dying embers of the bonfire, as he leans forward, seemingly ready to jump. 
- Had I known you were such a buzz kill...-
You're not allowed to finish, as the Ghoul basically throws himself in your direction. Your yelp is cut short with a piece of flimsy cloth being shoved into your mouth. A series of muffled sounds, vaguely resembling "is this my robe?" escape you, and the Ghoul pushed against your head, until you fall back down onto the ground. 
His body is hot against yours, as he covers you entirely with his weight. It's quite difficult to breathe through the makeshift gag and the overwhelming scent of blood, gunpowder, and the sickly sweet undertone of rot. As well as the unfamiliar feeling of having someone so close. You were a hermit after all. 
- I said, shut the fuck up - he whispers harshly into your ear, and you shiver underneath him, as his chest rises and falls against your back. 
Then, a sound somewhere close to the forest line makes your head whip in its direction. Cracking of twigs and heavy footsteps, coming closer and closer with clear determination. 
- Healer? - your entire body stiffens, as a familiar voice rings out through the trees. - Are you alright, Healer?
Benny. The same Benny, which led this damned bounty hunter right to your doorstep is currently making his merry way towards the both of you. Your eyes follow the way the Ghoul's thumb loads the pistol with a click of finality, and suddenly new energy floods your system.
- Stop fucking moving - Cooper grounds down on his teeth, as you attempt to free yourself from both his grip, and the lasso's.
Images of Benny, bloodied and dead, flash through your mind, and despite your lack of any sympathy towards the man, you don't want to see it. So, you start to move again, violently shaking under the Ghoul, forcing the lasso to slide from your body. Your hips jerk from the ground, bucking into him like a wild animal, and somewhere behind your ear, you can hear him suck in a sharp breath. Which you have no time to dwell upon. Your tongue fights against the fabric of your robe, and after a second you're able to spit it out.
- Don't shoot him - you plead feverishly, hands gripping the Ghoul's forearm - I'll talk to him, he'll leave. Just don't shoot him, please.
Cooper looks down at you, his eyes hard on your face, as he watches out for any signs of deceit. Then, he presses his lips into a thin line.
- Make it quick, or I'll pop his head clean off his shoulders. - southern accent floods every syllable, and were you not fighting to save a life (again), you would've blushed.
- Yes, thank you. I'll be quick. Thank you. - words spill out of you like a broken faucet, whispered into the space between your bodies, as the bounty hunter tugs off the loop of his lasso. 
You take a moment to steady yourself, as he drags you up with him, hand twisted into the front of your shirt. Still a little stunned, you allow him to manoeuvre you, turning your body in his grasp, until your back is pressed flush against his front. 
Strong arm sneaks over your shoulders, hand clasping around the column of your throat, while the other one waits just outside of your vision. The barrel of the gun rests between your shoulder and your neck, and the coolness of the metal causes a myriad of goosebumps to erupt across your skin. 
- I'm here Benny - you call out, praying to anything that would listen, that your plan would work - Come out, slowly. 
To his credit, Benny has always been quite good at following directions. There weren't many attributes about him either way, a bit dim in the head, a bit too heroic. 
And definitely a bit too quick to pull out a gun.
Which is what he does as soon as he sees your peculiar situation. The Ghoul drums his fingers against your pulse point, and Benny approaches, a simple shotgun in front of him.
- What the hell...?
- Benny, I need you to listen to me - your voice sounds way too panicked, and you swallow hard to fake some illusion of control over this situation - I need you to turn around, and leave.
- But, there's a Ghoul with a gun behind you, Healer.
You nearly jump out of your skin, when you feel the hot breath of your unwanted companion on the back of your neck. You can almost imagine his chapped lips, so close to your skin.
- Time's a tickin', sweetheart - he whispers, and your blood runs cold in your veins. 
- He's a - you swallow, mouth going dry in an instant - He's my friend. Who's getting very anxious with the trigger, Benny, so please, just go home. 
Deep down inside you know there is no scenario, where the farmer leaves alive. He signed his death warrant the moment he stepped out of the shadows, yet for some unknown reason, that just makes you fight against the odds harder. Call it dumb optimism, perhaps you're possessed by your mother's spirit. Or perhaps the chems have finally scrambled your brains for good. 
- He's not looking very friendly - Benny's gun sways slightly, as he tries to keep it raised, muscles evidently straining against the weight - He's the guy that shot Pete.
Oh for fucks sake, your whole body starts shaking at this point, heart thrumming in your chest like a moth batting against a lampshade. You can feel the Ghoul smirk against the skin of your shoulder, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. His thumb presses slightly into your pulse, feeling it run rampant against his finger. 
- Please - somehow you hope the desperation in your voice will be enough - Please, leave. Benny, please.
Benny looks between you and the Ghoul peaking over your trembling form. You can see his brain working overtime, scrunched eyebrows, smacking of the lips. You're only praying it's working in the right direction. Then, some idea flashes across his expression, and you know in the hollow of your stomach, that this is his end.
- If I save you, will you marry me? - he asks, looking at you with the utmost hopeful expression.
- ...what?
Confusion doesn't even fully register in your mind, as the deafening sound of a gun being fired nearly blows up your eardrums. At first you're not sure, what you're looking at. Where there used to be Benny, now there's a carcass, mangled and bloody. It's hard to figure out, where individual parts of his body are, some bones sticking out from the chunky mush. A spray of red falls onto your face like a morning mist, and the scent of iron and gunpowder is stunning your senses. 
You can't move. Eyes glued to what once used to Benny, you don't even notice, as the Ghoul removes himself from you, placing the lasso over your head and around your body. The loop is secured tightly, and the bounty hunter tugs on it a couple of times, just to test its durability. Then, lazily, he picks up your messenger bag, swinging it over his shoulder. 
- The first time he came to me for help, he tried to domesticate a rad roach - you mutter absentmindedly, not caring if your unwanted companion is hearing you - Wanted it to help with the farm work. I had to stitch half his left side. 
- Stupid life deserves a stupid death.
- You're a fucking monster - you spit out, the feeling of Benny's blood on your lips almost making you gag.
Apparently, the Ghoul takes offense to that, because almost instantly, he's in front of you, his hand gripping your throat, and pushing you hard against the metal plating of the destroyed plane. Stars erupt behind your eyelids, as your head knocks hard into the wall, pain barely registering under the confusion.
- I have been more than accommodating to you, little princess - the Ghoul snarls in your direction, but all you can focus on, is his other hand, grabbing your bruised chin - I've entertained your little medical escapade, I let you negotiate with that dimwit over there.
The warmth of his body suffocates you stronger than any hand around your throat. You can't decide on the color of his eyes, as they seem to shift between amber and green, and completely black. Your mouth opens just a smidge, as you try to defend yourself in any way, but before you can speak, the Ghoul shoves two gloved fingers into your mouth, silencing you in an instant. 
- I could be so much worse, darlin', and I don't think you would like that - his voice lowers itself barely above a whisper, and he watches your expression shift under his grip.
You can't help it, really, the way your body reacts to this rough manhandling. It's not like you could predict being pinned to a wall by a stranger would make your thighs press together. Cooper looks down. He smiles like a cat, that's just found the fattest of mice, when his eyes drag back up to your face. 
- Or perhaps you would - his knee presses against the middle of your thighs, just short of forcing them apart, and you gasp around his fingers.
As if nothing has happened, he pulls away, so suddenly, you nearly fall over. His gloved hand glistens with your saliva, and gracefully, he wipes it clean on your shirt. Blushed, panting, and very angry at this turn of events, you stare daggers at him, as he tugs at the lasso, forcing you to start moving.  
- What is your name? - you demand, blood running hot and defiant in your veins. 
Cooper stares for just a moment too long. The way you seem to bristle in rage, even though that farmer truly was stupid, and you know it too. He likes the way your eyes harden, the way your jaw sets, when you realize this is no longer fun and games. When you recognize, how dangerous he can be, how mean and ruthless. He'd be a fool not to admit it,  it makes him feel powerful, revered. 
And the undertone of humiliation running through the length of your spine is just such a delicious addition. Almost better than chems. Almost more addicting.
Lips tugging back into a nasty smirk, he appraises you with his gaze, surprised when your resolve seems to harden even more. 
- You, Healer - your title sounds wrong coming from his thin lips, worse than any other time you've heard it - Can call me "sir".
Something akin to disgust runs through your expression, and you turn away with a grumble. 
- Fat fucking chance.
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doobea · 11 months
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I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - RIN ITOSHI
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synopsis: You're a famous online smut author, married to an international superstar athlete, and everyone around you thinks you have the perfect sex life. What they don't realize is Rin sleeps in the guest room and you're still very much a virgin.
contents: fem!reader, explicit content, they do basically everything BUT seggs (oral male and female receiving, sexting, fingering), extreme word vomit and narration in the beginning, characters are all in their mid/late-20s, romcom, honestly they're figuring themselves out, mdni word count: 4K a/n: honestly, idk why the word count keeps increasing everytime but i tried to make this as fluffy and emotional as possible?? please have respectful eyes and thoughts when reading :3c - again if u wanna be added to the taglist just comment below hehe
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三 : Baby, my room is the G spot -> prev. -> next.
You've spent the past few weeks mulling over your "passion project"; spending the majority of your days writing till late as three in the morning, back slouched and brain caffeinated, convincing yourself that each paragraph written was perfect. But recently you've found yourself hating every word, every sentence, and every character development point that you've produced. If it wasn't for the fact that you've poured over 30,000 words into the novel you would've scrapped everything and started over. Something felt off.
You groan, kicking your legs underneath your office desk and slumping over in your chair. The words on the screen didn't even look like words anymore. You can't count how many times you've rewritten the same paragraph. Writer's block is killing you and you blame it on your husband.
It's been exactly three days since the dressing room incident and, unlike grown adults, you both decided it was best to sweep it under the rug. There was a small window of opportunity to speak about it but it didn't help that minutes later the store manager put two and two together and implemented a lifetime ban against you and Rin. Needless to say, the drive home was dead silent. But at least you received the clothes for free!
Of course, a million questions ran through your head, trying to piece together what even caused Rin to do that. The most far you've gotten with him was limited to heavy make-out sessions, and even those are a rare occurrence. Your not-so-obvious plan of trying to seduce him worked (it was Shidou's idea), so why do you feel like you're back to square one?
The messaging app on your laptop hops up and down before its jarring ringtone blasts through the speakers. You click 'accept' when you see the names of your familiar penpals pop in the middle of the screen and enter the call seeing eerie smiles coming from everyone.
"So," Bachira sings, eyes gleaming with intensity, "how did it go?"
So much for “hello”.
A soft blush creeps its way to your cheeks and it doesn't go unnoticed by your friends. A chorus of 'oohs' and 'aahs' follow suit and you feel even more naked than you were days ago.
"It went well, like super well." You meekly recall the explicit events that occurred in the dressing room, stumbling over the details as you remember your husband's careful movements against your skin and lower regions.
The four men sit up straight, whispering to each other with wide eyes 'See? I told you so!' and Shidou proudly puffs out his chest at his genius plotting.
"But," And this is where everyone stops in their tracks and tenses, "we still slept in separate beds afterwards."
Betrayal and disgust are written on their faces.
Hell breaks loose as the men raise their voices at the same time, a series of fake cries and spurs of curse words that you haven't heard before leak from the device. You hastily connect your Bluetooth headphones to your laptop to hopefully drown out the sounds since Rin is still very much at home - just in the other room.
"Guys," Your voice strains, "everything will be okay." The reassurance is more for yourself than for anyone else on the call.
"I just wanna know what your husband is thinking." Chigiri presses his lips together in a tight line.
"He's bold enough to finger fuck you in a dressing room but doesn't have the balls to just sleep in the same bedroom?" Shidou scoffs.
Hiori raises a hand to interject while wearing an uneasy expression, "You ever think there's something that happened in his past that's causing him to avoid certain amounts of intimacy?"
You draw in a deep breath before shaking your head, "Honestly, I'm not sure if there's much on his past and we've always danced around the topic." More like Rin would always try and excuse himself from the conversation during the few times that it did happen. You've assumed the number of partners is probably more than the average person, given the fact that he's a popular athlete and gives off 'male lead' energy in a drama.
"Here's a wild thought to consider!" Bachira shares his screen, and the contents of a poorly drawn-out graphic bearing the colorful words 'TOP THINGS TO DO TO SEDUCE A VIRGIN' pops up. There is a step-by-step guide with weirdly in-depth descriptions for each point. The points labeled 'force them to share a bed' and 'lingerie' were scribbled out while being accompanied by a sad face.
"What am I looking at exactly?" You blank at the screen, ignoring the suppressed giggling fits coming from Shidou and Chigiri in the background.
Hiori clears his throat, "We were all thinking that maybe your husband is also a virgin." The jarring statement causes you to choke on your saliva but he continues on, "It's clear that he cares about you from what you've told us, and maybe the dressing room incident caused him to have some sort of confidence in his performance? We believe he's just shy and is waiting for you to initiate the process."
Chigiri nods in agreement, "And given that he's avoidant talking about his past relationships, it could mean he just doesn't have any partners and assumes that you probably had plenty."
"But why would he even assume that?"
"Because," Shidou launches himself close to the camera, "you're literally a smut master. You don't think he's looked up your shit even once?"
You open your mouth, trying to fish the right words to respond, and nothing comes out. You find your legs bouncing rapidly against the hardwood floor and gnaw at the bit of flesh in your mouth, a sudden surge of a mix of anxiety and excitement bursting through your veins. "This—I don't think makes sense." Except, you think, it does. It 100% does make sense and you want to hit yourself on the head for not catching it earlier.
Bachira lets out a long whimsical sigh and zooms in to the top of the graphic, enhancing the words 'SEND HIM NUDES, "You can start with this and," he scrolls down to the next bullet point, "follow up with my favorite foreplay: sexting!"
Subconsciously, you find yourself reaching for the phone, staring hard at the background photo of you and Rin on one of your earlier date nights. The photo had poor lighting quality due to the only source being his small apartment TV at the time. The two of you were seated against the couch cushions on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest and his arm awkwardly wrapped around your shoulder. It was your first couple's photo together after a long movie marathon. A shitty but precious photo nonetheless. You find yourself thinking, maybe the third time is the charm?
Rin shuts his laptop after another hour-long session with Anri, feeling everything but relaxed. He didn't go into much detail on what happened, fearing both judgment from his therapist and recognition of the lack of communication skills - so he lies. He didn't care if Anri was able to sense it, Rin knows he's a bad liar, but he also knows that he probably shouldn't be venting with a distracted mind.
He tosses his headphones to his side and lays down on the bed, limbs sprawling out in all directions to try and release some of the tension in his body. Ever since what occurred three days ago, he's been struggling to act like his usual self. His kicks have been sloppy, rushed, and just filled god awful accuracy. The meals that he tried to cook himself right afterward always end up tasting burnt for being on the stove a minute too long. And you? Rin remembers you asking if you had wanted to talk about it shortly after but he was quick to decline. A bit too quickly. He knows he should've started the conversation but restless thoughts of insecurity clouded his judgment.
What if you secretly hated it? What if you faked your orgasm? Will anything that he'll do live up to your prior experiences?
He shudders at the thoughts before snapping back up from the mattress. Rin needs to relieve this stress build-up by doing the only thing he knows best and starts packing his gym bag for the training grounds.
When he pokes his head out, he vaguely overhears muffled voices along with your fingers rapidly typing away at your keyboard, and exhales. You're still busy in your weekly meeting and that means he can have plenty of alone time if he doesn't bump into his teammates during after-hours. Rin quickly fills up his water bottle, throwing in a couple of ice cubes, then dips.
Luck is finally on his side as Rin steps onto the open turf field with no one in sight. He lets out a deep sigh, throws down his bag, and dives deep into his routine work. His mind goes numb an hour in after scoring against the dummy goalie for the nth time, his accuracy returning at a steady pace, and finally decides to take a quick water break. Just as he finishes relacing his cleats, a familiar buzzing sound catches his ears, glancing down to see your text.
my love "are you alone right now?"
He pauses and stares. For some reason, he feels like this is a test and hesitates an answer. Are you in a bad mood? Are you asking to have a long-winded phone call over the incident? Rin's shaky fingers hover over the phone's keyboard and, before he has the chance to say anything, you send over the next message.
The first thing he sees is 'IMAGE RECIEVED' and the second thing he sees is a pair of breasts. Your breasts. It's a faceless photo but he recognizes the white lacey outfit from the boutique. You had one of your arms pressed under your breasts to elevate them for extra volume and your thighs were spread open just enough for your folds to slip through. Rising temperatures and aches soon force their way down to his stomach and growing length.
Even though Rin knew he was alone, he snaps his neck side to side just to make sure before replying.
Rin "looks nice"
He immediately regrets it. It's not like he plays nonchalance very well, either way. Rin is fast to recall back to the erotic novels he's read and pulls together a message that is more fitting and elegant in his eyes.
Rin "do you want me to come back?"
You're quick to respond back and he grimaces.
my love "no."
But you continue to his surprise.
my love "but if you're alone do you mind touching yourself?"
Rin inhales a sharp breath and palms his evident aching length through his shorts, it's burning to the touch. He's confident that there aren't any cameras that are still on, there was no point if everyone else went home for the day, right? Rin finds a comfortable corner in the arena and presses his back flush against the cold wall, pulling out the camera app on his phone. He adjusts the position so that his lower abs are in frame and tug down his waistband enough for his head to poke out, already wet and raging red from precum, and snaps the picture over.
my love "oh wow wait you're at practice rn?" Rin "don't worry too much, im the only one here" "do you want to see more?"
There's a moment in pause and Rin thinks maybe he's overstepped his place as he watches the text bubbles reappear and disappear soon after the other. But soon you return with his message with more than what he can bite.
my love "dont finish just yet! come back when you're done with training and let's have a talk." ATTACHMENT: 1 IMAGE
And it's a photo of your ass.
On instinct, his fingers brush over his sensitive head and he bites down his lips to contain a threatening moan from escaping. As much as Rin would love to pleasure himself shamefully on work grounds, curiosity, and some sense of morals, crawl back to his senses.
Rin "be back in 15"
With a quick toss of his water bottle and ruffling for his car keys, RIn has never driven home at lightning speed till now.
You find yourself pacing back and forth in your bedroom, heart hammering against your chest as you fiddle with the lace hanging from your bodysuit as a failed attempt to calm your nerves. A part of you wants to thank your friends for their suggestions and another part of you wants to hide underneath covers because you still can't process that this might be finally happening.
Sounds of keys jingling by the front door halts your movements and you could hear your husband frantically tossing his shoes and bag on the floor - an uncharacteristic trait for someone neat like Rin. Before you get the chance of covering up in any way, the athlete rushes into your room, seemingly a bit out of breath. His usual teal eyes now have a familiar dark overcast over them, similar to how he looked in the dressing room days ago.
You press your thighs together, shyly averting your gaze from the male, and cough, "I think we both need to confess something so I'll go first. I want us to explore more intimately but I want you to know that you're going to be my first for essentially everything." You make an anguished noise, flush, and look away. Rin doesn’t press it, but the silence falls over, and it's a heavy one.
You hear him let out a small, but audible, gasp of sorts. Then some shuffling. Then a soft plop. You look up and Rin is sitting on your bed, patting the spot next to him and shooting you a gentle smile. Pressure that you didn't even realize you had is released from your body as you sit down, immediately reaching out to interlace your fingers with his. You sink your head against his broad shoulder.
"You're my first for everything too," Rin admits followed by a hushed sigh, his cheeks tinted red, and it looks like he's going to either laugh or cry, you can't tell but, from the moonlight shining through the windows, you can at least see that he isn't terrified. "So let's take care of each other, okay?" And gives your hand a tight squeeze.
Rin reaches over and tugs you to straddle in his lap. It's not awkward, almost easy, and you follow the eager voices chanting in your head as you lean back between your husband's firm thighs. Arms loop around his neck and your eyes lock, meeting his dark and seemingly naive ones. There is enough natural light flowing in that you can count each individual eyelash, notice the small movements in his pupils as he searches for permission, how his lips tweak from both nervousness and hunger, and that his skin is essentially flawless.
You take the initiative and the kisses that you leave on his collarbones are enthusiastic, needy, and messy - more displaced saliva than anything else. But neither of you cares enough. Rin lets out the slightest of moans and his hands find their way to your thighs, thumbs pressing down hard that leaves you wondering if there's a chance for bruises tomorrow.
His grip on you tightens when your lips hover over his flushed ears. You decide to play with this discovery and drag your teeth over his right ear lobe, almost moaning in response to the noise that escaped from Rin's mouth.
"I didn't realize that you have sensitive ears." You continue to playfully nibble his lobes, managing another groan from the male.
"Don't push it." Rin breathes out before pressing one of his thumbs against your covered folds, humming in contentment when he realizes that it's completely soaked. As he circles around your heat, he hears his name slipping through your plumped lips, a distinctive whine that makes his cock twitch. "Let me try something real quick."
He sets you aside and gets up, desperately tossing his sweat-covered t-shirt and unbearable sweats from his warming skin. All clothes from his body are stripped and forgotten on the bedroom floor as he stands fully exposed and watches your flustered figure with nothing but instincts taking over.
Rin lays fully down on the mattress and motions you to climb on top, ass facing him. If your face wasn't red before, it sure is red now after putting the indications together. "Come here, let me make you feel good." His voice is coated with needy intoxication and you obediently follow his commands.
You carefully hover your lower half over his face and lay face to face with his twitching head, mind racing as you try and figure out how exactly are you going to fit him in your mouth. It should be a crime to be this dangerously attractive and pair it with something so big. Before you get the chance to grasp his length, your body jolts and a shriek escapes your lips. Looking over your shoulder, you see Rin spreading your warmth apart with a smirk etched onto his face.
"Relax," is all he says, pulling down your thighs, and your mesh-covered mound meets with his impatient tongue flicking and drinking your soiled leakage.
You let your mind blissfully go blank and struggle to not grind your hips against his nose. Your ragged breathing hangs over his leaking tip and it twitches angrily in response. Finding your strength, you curl your hand around his throbbing erection, giving it a few experimental strokes, immediately taken aback by how firm a penis can be.
"A bit looser, love." Rin hisses out between your legs, his mouth now covered in a mixture of your fluids and his drool. He's fighting a war in his head, debating whether to stop to look at your cute attempt to swallow him whole or continue to ravage your dripping folds. The second option sounds infinitely more appealing, he thinks.
You mumble out a drunken apology and adjust your grip. After a few strokes and vibrations of him groaning against your lower half, you finally find the courage to consume his impressive size. Your lips wrap itself around his head and Rin is doing everything that he can to not shove the entirety of his cock down your hot, welcoming tunnel. The combination of your crazed moans and juices are like honey in his throat and it drives him insane. The swirling from your tongue around his tip and your bobbing head movements send his hands to grasp each side of your ass, he whines and kneads against the soft fat.
"Fuck," Rin knows he shouldn't buck his hips into you, especially since you look like you're still struggling with his length, but it feels too good for it to go unnoticed. "Don't stop, do that again."
You let out a hum against his head in response, sending static shock to his legs, and repeat the process again. Rin chooses not to hold back his moans, not when you're both figuring out each other's bodies for the first time, and he allows the heavy fog in his vision to swallow him whole. His fingers dig deep into the flesh of your ass and grinds your hips back and forth on his mouth, making sure that your hood rubs against the tip of his nose for added pleasure. A minute passes and Rin feels the pressure building faster than he can even warn you.
"Baby, I—" He gasps out, the knot quickly comes undone in his stomach and unintentionally releases in multiple spurts into your mouth. Rin feels you choke in response, and knows that the load is way more than what he usually produces. His head rolls deep into the pillow and cries out a moan when you attempt to swallow with his overly sensitive cock still between your lips.
You pop his wet length from your now sore jaw and laugh weakly, "So that's what semen tastes like."
Rin grunts and proceeds to flip your body onto the bed, earning a loud yelp from you, "Still need to finish you off." He slips between your legs, resting his mouth on top of your wet mound, and sucks off the remaining slick through the mesh fabric. You almost clamp your thighs together from the sensitivity but his arms stop your actions.
Your hands grab at the bedsheets, knuckles turning white from the obvious burning sensation slowly building up in your stomach as his mouth makes its way over to focus solely on your itching nub. You feel him tugging the fabric to the side and you immediately release a loud mew, curling your back against the mattress when his fingers feel their way inside your mushy entrance and pumping in all the right angles from before.
Encouraged by your response, he speeds up his pace and feels your tightness form as you writhe under his touch. Rin soon notices that your body has gotten too tense, knowing the struggle that you've caught yourself in as tears threaten to escape from your eyes. He pauses his fingers inside and coos, "I want you to look at me as you cum. Can you cum for me?"
You say nothing but your insides couldn't help but to pulse against his fingers after hearing his daring words. He takes that as approval and resumes his speed, mouth latching back to its original position but this time his half-lidded eyes don't falter from yours. Hands fly to tear skin at the broad shoulders beneath as you breathe out his name in ecstasy. Soon you're scrambling against him, lifting your hips from the wet mattress over his fingertips and face, wanting more, and Rin realizes that you're stumbling through a messy, hard-fought orgasm that he's completely responsible for causing. The juices spilling from your sobbing canal leaves him fuzzy and ransacked as he struggles to consume them.
He gets up, wipes his slick-covered mouth, and watches your chest heave from a mix of exhaustion and pleasure, "I'll be right back."
Your vision is blurry, to say the least, but you make out the subtle lighting turning on in the background, the sounds of a faucet running, and then the touch of your gentle husband as he makes brief dabs with a towel against your nether regions. You groan at the contact.
"Does it hurt?"
You shake your head, voice barely there, "Just a bit sore, it was really intense."
A chuckle rolls off his lips that send flutters to your already pounding chest. Rin feels his lips twist into a smile that matches yours, unable to fight off the feelings of warm affection that bloom deep in him as you stare deep into his gaze. He bends down, planting a chaste kiss on your sweat-ridden forehead while undoing the strings of the laced bodysuit. "I'm sorry, let's get you out of this thing and clean up, okay?"
You run your body under the rush of the warm water in the shower, cheeks flushed and mind still processing the fresh events. A negative creeping thought gnaws against your skull, saying that maybe he'll sleep in his room again but that dissipates when you hear him entering the bathroom. You see your naked husband looking at the ground through the translucent curtains, almost in a shy manner, completely forgetting the fact that he dominated you just moments ago, and whispers, "Do you mind if I join you?"
It's your turn to laugh this time, "The shower you mean? Yea, you can."
"Mhm," He brushes the curtains away and steps behind you, hands grabbing your waist and pulling your bodies closer, "I meant for the night."
Suddenly, you find yourself smiling wide, it was infectious and silly, like you had just won a prize at the carnival fair. You melt against his chest and peer up into his sharp teal eyes, "Thought you'd never ask."
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starrystevie · 11 months
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steve who got a lower back tattoo on a drunken dare in his late 20s and forgets it's there most of the time. steve who stretches one night at a party and his shirt rides up exposing the swirling lines that peek out from under his belt line. steve who doesn't think anything of it and forgets to pull his shirt back down as he leans forward on the couch while talking with the group, basking in the welcomed burn of a certain pair of eyes locked on him.
eddie who's sitting next to him, gripping the back of the couch cushion where his arm is slung around his long term crush like it's the only tether he has to planet earth because not only does steve have a tattoo, but it's right there. eddie who takes in a shuddering breath and can't pull his gaze away from the ink that spreads low over tanned skin that he longs to explore. eddie who digs his other hand into his knee to keep it from doing anything stupid like running his fingers over the tattoo or pulling steve up to go to the spare bedroom.
steve who shoots frozen-in-place eddie a knowing smirk after a few seconds as he leans over even further before standing up and holding out his hand in invitation anyway. eddie who finds out later in the night that he doesn't have to wonder what the tattoo feels like under his fingers for much longer.
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harbingersglory · 5 months
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hii could i req an soft dom arlecchino x sub/fem reader?? something w a really needy whiny reader n maybe like a mommy kink or thigh riding IDK tysm for ur time !
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{☆} characters arlecchino {☆} notes drabble, fem reader, sub reader {☆} warnings 18+ content
"Slowly, doll. We're not in a rush." Arlecchino reprimands lightly, squeezing your hips with just enough force to keep you unmoving on her thigh– she was still being gentle, but the subtle warning in her tone spoke to how easily she could push you against the desk and turn you into such a mess that you couldn't even remember your own name..just that you were hers.
But the barest hint of stimulation from her slacks pressed against your throbbing cunt had you twitching, barely able to form words. All you could think about was the scorching, twisting need building in your stomach, desperation for relief slowly climbing until you'd think she was doing this on purpose to drive you mad.
"Please– 'm a good girl, right? I've been good.." You choked out, only to be met with the rough, husky laugh echoing in your ear that made you feel dizzy with a rush of need, her nails gliding along the skin of your hips as she pressed you down even more firmly– you couldn't see her face but it was easy to imagine the crooked smile twisting her lips at the way you inhaled sharply and tried to buck against her thigh.
"Shh. I know, doll. I've got you, just relax." She murmured in that sickly sweet tone that always had your knees buckling, the raspiness of her voice sending shivers down your spine. It was almost impossible to relax with her so close, the notes of metal lingering on her skin despite how well she presents herself– but you trusted her, despite how you know you shouldn't.
"There we go. Good girl." Arlecchino's grip on your hips loosened just enough for you to move if you so wished, and oh did it take every ounce of restraint to not do just that..she hadn't said you were allowed to, and you weren't about to spoil her good mood by being a brat. Not tonight, anyway. "Do you want to cum, doll?"
The fervent nod you offer in place of words draws a laugh from her lips, one that is almost mocking, making your face flush in embarrassment– but the sudden tap against your hip makes your mind go blank to the point you forget it all together, focused only on the feeling of her thigh rubbing against your cunt as you bucked against her thigh, the fabric slick and wet against your inner thighs. You'd have half the heart to be embarrassed about that, too, if not for the sudden brush of her thumb against your aching, neglected clit. Just that small touch has you speeding up your movements, practically drooling as you whimpered like a dog in heat.
"That's more like it, doll. Such a pretty girl." Arlecchino hummed, her other hand trailing up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts and ghosting across your throat before settling on grabbing your jaw in a firm, yet almost tender touch as she tilted your head to the side just enough for her to pull you into a burning kiss. It left you lightheaded, grinding down against her thigh as she claimed your mouth as her own, her thumb still ghosting over your clit sporadically.
She'd spent so long teasing you, constantly touching you but never where you needed her, that you already felt like you were going to snap like a wire. She must've been in a really good mood, then, when she pulled away from the kiss with an almost predatory lick of her lips, yet she settled on pressing kisses to your skin rather then the usual sharp bite of her teeth as they sunk into the curve of your shoulder.
"Are you close? Go on. I want to see your face when you cum– you look the prettiest when you finally break apart, doll." Arlecchino mused idly– as if she wasn't talking to you while you continued to rub your aching cunt against her thigh, chasing your own release through shaky, strained breaths. Her thumb swiped over your lips, brushing strands of hair stuck to your skin from your face– at the same time as she swiped her thumb more firmly against your clit, creating a vicious contrast that had you both melting at the barest hint of almost softness from her and the touch of her hand between your legs, dragging you into an orgasm that leaves you trembling and, had she not shoved her fingers into your mouth, screaming, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes.
"All done, little doll. Take it easy." She murmured, voice so quiet you almost didn't hear it, thumb swiping across your cheek to wipe away the stray tear, her hands pulling away to settle on your sides. "You did well– good girl. Let me take it from here."
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midkarma · 1 year
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bully satosugu is hell to deal with, but it gets so much worse when someone else tries to give you attention
their bullying has progressed into more… possessiveness. they’re still mean, they love to see you cry, but now they need you around them at all times. dragging you around campus by your waist, always keeping hands on your hips or shoulders. you don’t have any friends outside of them. not that you’d call them “friends”
but when you’re alone, you’re approached by a male classmate, asking for your number. you blush as he tells you that he’d like to take you to coffee sometime, if it was okay with you. he seemed sweet and caring. but there was a problem. gojo and geto would be pissed if they found out this guy ever talked to you. you thought for a moment, why should i let them control everything i do? i’m allowed to make my own choices. i’ll just be careful.
so you are careful. you take his number and agree to coffee, you set his name as “girl from bio” in your phone so that the boys won’t think anything of it. they don’t believe you’d have any real friends, so you don’t put a real name on the contact.
for a while your plan works. you see the boy about every week, usually in the morning to get coffee. you don’t let him walk you to your classes, but you two text a lot. you decided to get a little bolder though.
you agreed to get dinner with him at a nicer restaurant about a month after you started hanging out. as you’re in the shower getting ready, you don’t hear the texts to your phone, or the calls, or the banging on your apartment door. your roommate isn’t home to get it, but that’s okay. they let themselves in.
you go on about your routine, getting almost fully ready without leaving your room or the bathroom connected to it. it’s not until you need to grab some shoes from your roommate’s room that you notice their presence. a whistle calls your attention to the couch, where geto sits. he looks you up and down, like you’re a piece of meat.
“you’re looking awfully nice, dear. what’s the occasion?” your face falls at his words. you’re fucked.
“going out with… the girl from bio. we’re going to get some dinner.” you quietly respond, already knowing the lie won’t land.
gojo stands from where he’s sitting at the breakfast bar, and walks over to you. he stares you down, smirking, and tugs at the hem of your dress. his hands trail up, and he tightens the straps, as they were falling down. “you and i both know that’s not true, angel. why don’t you tell us what you’re really doing?”
you can’t deny them. you break and quietly tell the truth, “i’m going to see a guy from class… we’re going to dinner. together.” you can feel tears well in your eyes. why do they have to ruin everything?
“really now? dinner? when did you meet this guy?” geto stands before you now, having left his seat on the couch.
“a month and a half ago.”
“a whole month? you managed to hide this loser for a whole month?” gojo laughs in your face, humorlessly. “oh doll, you’re screwed.”
dinner plans are cancelled that night, and the next time you see that guy, about a week later, he’s sporting an almost-healed black eye and a few broken fingers. he doesn’t look at you.
probably because geto and gojo are on your left and right, their hands on your waist.
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rosedom · 22 days
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"haikaveh hate sex" this and "haikaveh mean sex" that: are we playing the same game? these two are all bark, no bite. they are loser boywives who are absolute sweethearts with each other behind closed doors. they, now, are the epitome of domesticity.
alhaitham is nothing but gentle with kaveh; and kaveh is gentle with him in turn. they are the blueprint for slow, lazy fucks in the morning, for soft lovemaking in the golden hour of the evening; they are quiet mornings in the kitchen, filled with nothing but the bitter scent of coffee and the sweet one of cream, of sweet sex as the sun kisses the dawn sky. their house—their home—has no inch untouched by their tender love, no surface left cold when their hearts are so warm for one another.
their sex may be kinky at times, but it is always with love: always, always. haitham can call kaveh a slut, but he will only do it if he's calling kaveh his slut, his good boy; and kaveh may call haitham annoying, a fungus without empathy—but it's all a play. he knows his haitham—perhaps better than he knows himself—, and he knows that each spank he may beg for will be soothed by haitham's gentle palm.
in short: there is no hatred in the way they touch one another, and i loathe that which implies they do.
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buddie-buddie · 2 months
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you'll find that you were never not mine
5.1k - explicit - buck x tommy - read on ao3
In his thirty two trips around the sun, Buck has done plenty of things he’s proud of. He’s run headfirst into burning buildings. He’s saved lives. He’s reunited with his sister and survived being crushed by a ladder truck and been named the legal guardian of the coolest kid in the world. 
He’s felt pride before. But never like this. 
This is different. It’s intoxicating and addicting and everything Buck never realized he could have. Everything Buck never realized he deserved. Not until now. 
Not until Tommy. 
The swell of pride behind his ribs, the warmth flooding his chest and beating through his body, it isn’t foreign, not entirely. But he’s never felt it all quite like this. It’s never consumed him like this. It’s never been so heady, so dizzying, so absolutely electrifying. He wants to bottle it up and carry it around in his pocket and take hits from it when no one is looking.
It’s a high he’d gladly spend the rest of his life chasing, if he could only be so lucky. 
Never before has he felt so alive, so proud and worthy and good. There’s a deep, intoxicating pleasure to it, tiny bursts of ecstasy skittering across his skin and dancing up his spine as he looks down at Tommy. 
Tommy, who’s lying beneath him, with his eyes sparkling and a wild, sated grin stretching across his face. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, his heart hammering beneath kiss-bitten, come-covered skin. He has one hand still fisted in the sheets, the other splayed across Buck’s chest. 
“C’mere,” Tommy says, voice rough and heavy. He sounds absolutely destroyed. And that alone sends sparks flying across Buck’s skin, electricity crackling behind his chest as he realizes it was because of him. He did that. 
The pride flares in his chest as he lets Tommy pull him in for a filthy, open-mouthed kiss. 
“S’that good?” Buck mumbles against Tommy’s mouth. 
Tommy pulls back, just enough to give Buck a look of absolute bewilderment. “Was that good?” he echoes, eyes wide. “I haven’t come that hard in–– I don’t even know. I–Yeah,” he says, huffing out an incredulous laugh. “Yeah, Evan. It was good.”
Buck’s breath catches in his throat, pride swelling in his chest as Tommy’s praise sets him ablaze. As does the way he calls him Evan. A name Buck usually hated now makes warmth bloom behind his ribs when it falls from Tommy’s lips. 
Buck can always hear the smile behind it, can feel the fondness as it settles over him, grounding him in a way that still feels just as exciting as the very first time.  
Buck just…. well, he never corrected him. He’s usually pretty quick to ask people to call him Buck, but for some reason he never did when it came to Tommy. Buck used to think that his nickname was reserved for the people who know him, but then along came Tommy with his sparkly eyes and his adorable nose scrunches and his kind heart and his fingers beneath Buck’s chin and well– Buck is starting to think maybe Tommy knows him better than he thinks. 
It was only a month ago that Tommy had kissed him and his world exploded. Everything was suddenly a little bit brighter, a little bit warmer. Nothing had changed, per se, and yet everything was better. So much better. 
It reminds Buck of that part in the Wizard of Oz when Dorothy steps into technicolor. When the sepia tones disappear and there’s nothing but bright, beautiful color. It’s not that Buck’s life before this was bad. It was just… sepia toned. And now that he’s had a taste of technicolor, he can’t believe he ever lived without it. 
He’d be lying if he said part of him doesn’t mourn the fact that it took him three decades to get here. But now that he’s arrived? Well, he’s making up for lost time. 
Tommy pulls Buck back in for another kiss, this one softer and sweeter than the one before it. And yet, it still sends the same zip of pleasure up Buck’s spine, the same rush of desire thrumming beneath his skin. 
Initially, Buck thought that the night Tommy kissed him for the first time was the moment when all the pieces clicked into place. But he was quick to realize that wasn’t the case at all. It wasn’t all the pieces that night, not really. More like it was the edges of the puzzle, the corner pieces that guide the rest of the journey. It was the moment when you press the edges together and have a real perimeter, and for the first time, it all feels possible. It was the realization that something will come of all the jumbled up pieces scattered in front of you. Something real. Something beautiful. 
And the more time he spends with Tommy, the more the pieces fall into place. 
A few days after their coffee date, Tommy had taken him for a flying lesson– the first of many, he had promised. The flying was fun, not to mention how hot it was having a front-row seat to watch Tommy in his element, this time with permission to stare. But the best part of the day was when they left the airstrip and Tommy reached down and took Buck’s hand in his. 
They walked to Tommy’s car hand in hand, and Buck didn’t miss the way his mind quieted the second Tommy’s fingers intertwined with his own. Being with Tommy settled something deep inside of Buck, it eased his mind and quieted the noise he hadn’t realized had once been so loud– not until Tommy smiled at him and suddenly, everything wasn’t so loud anymore. Everything wasn’t so hard anymore.  
Buck likes being with Tommy. He likes the weight of Tommy’s hand in his and the brush of his stubble against his chin. He likes the feel of Tommy’s lips on his and the way his skin sparks each time they touch. He likes being on the receiving end of raised eyebrows and nose scrunches and a quiet, fond, “Evan.” He likes it all. 
Never before has Buck been in a relationship where he’s felt so good and settled and safe. Which isn’t to say he felt unsafe with any of his exes. It’s just…. it’s different with Tommy. Buck feels safe to explore, safe to not know things, safe to not be the guy with the answers all the time. Safe to figure out who he is, what he wants, what he likes. Safe to just be.
He feels safe with Tommy. Proud, too. God, he’s so fucking proud to be with Tommy. 
He still has hard days— occupational hazard, and all. But even when his days are hard, they’re still good. Any day with Tommy is good. 
Today, though? Today is the best of them all. 
Today, Buck has Tommy in his bed. Laid out beneath him like a fucking god, looking like he’s been cut from marble and sent from the heavens just for Buck. He’s perfect, so perfect, with his kiss-swollen lips and lust-blown eyes and bruises starting to bloom beneath the trail of dark hair leading down his chest. 
Buck swears he’s dreaming. It would make it the longest, most vivid dream he’s ever had, but it’s the only explanation. There’s no way a human being can feel this good– there’s just no fucking way. He must have the flu– or maybe that nasty virus Eddie had mentioned was going around Christopher’s class– and his temperature’s climbed so high that he’s started hallucinating. There’s just no way this is real life. 
It’s not like Buck is a stranger to sex. Kind of the opposite, actually. He’s had his fair share of it, all of which was blown clear out of the water the first time Tommy got his hands on him. It’s not that it was necessarily bad with any of his exes. Sex with Tommy is just… better. Much like everything else with Tommy is revealing itself to be. 
At first, Buck thought it was the newness of it all. Like there was a honeymoon phase of sorts, something that would vanish the next time he found himself lucky enough to be in bed with Tommy. He wondered if it would pop suddenly like a balloon that’s floated too high, or if it would slowly ebb away like the tide from the shore, gone before he realized it was. Or maybe it would melt like the wings of Icarus from flying too close to the bright, dazzling radiance that is Tommy Kinard, and he’d come crashing down, cushioned only by the memories of what they once had. 
Except it didn’t. It didn’t pop, didn’t ebb. It hasn’t melted, or vanished, or even dimmed for so much as a fleeting moment. It’s been a month since the first time they got their hands on each other, and it’s still just as electric, just as intoxicating. 
In fact, it’s only gotten better. 
Granted, the first time was a rush of hungry kisses and frantic grinding and come-stained jeans against the door of Buck’s loft. So really, it was only up from there. 
The second time, Tommy got his mouth on Buck and Buck swore he was next in line to meet Jesus. There was the time that Tommy had jerked them off together, both of them in one hand, as if that wasn’t the single hottest thing Buck had ever experienced. And the time Tommy blew him in the shower and then stood up and stripped his own cock until he came on Buck’s abs with a shout. And then there was today. Today happened to be the first time Buck got Tommy off all by himself, and it was… transformative. 
Buck has never, in all his life, known pride quite like he has today. 
Earlier, they had stumbled into Buck’s loft after dinner at his favorite place around the corner, barely through the door before they were on each other, swapping heavy, frenzied kisses.
“Upstairs,” Buck had breathed, punctuating his request with a kiss. “Please.”
“So polite,” Tommy hummed, and Buck could feel his lips stretching into a grin beneath his. He followed Buck up the stairs, their fingers laced together the entire time. Buck dropped backwards onto the mattress, fisting his hands in the lapels of Tommy’s jacket and pulling him down with him. 
They made out for a while, grinding and rutting against each other fully clothed like teenagers, rather than two thirty-something men with all the time and space and freedom to take each other apart properly. 
Tommy pulled away just long enough to tug off his jacket and toss it on the floor behind him. Buck whined at the momentary loss of touch, chasing after it with an arch of his back that had Tommy swearing beneath his breath before diving back in and kissing Buck again. 
“You need to use your words, baby,” Tommy said between kisses, his voice low and breathy in a way that had heat zipping up Buck’s spine. Tommy’s mouth trailed a line of hot kisses across Buck’s jaw and down his neck, nosing at his pulse point and relishing in the way doing so made Buck’s breath catch in his throat. The pet name lit him up, made him feel warm and sparkly all over, like live wires were crackling beneath his skin and setting him on fire in the very best way. 
It was exhilarating and absolutely intoxicating, and Buck wanted to live the rest of his life feeling this happy, this floaty, this good. 
“Please,” Buck’s voice was hoarse, thick with lust and desire as he pushed the word out past the arousal climbing up his throat and threatening to consume him. 
Tommy’s warm breath ghosted across the shell of Buck’s ear as he all but purred, “That’s it. Tell me what you want.” 
“I–” Buck froze for a minute, suddenly unable to form words. He didn’t know where to begin. 
He wanted it all, whatever Tommy would give him. Whatever he could be so lucky to have before this beautiful, delicate bubble popped and the magic disappeared and sepia tones began to bleed into technicolor and the jig was up. Because really, it all felt just a little too good to be true. 
“A-Anything. Whatever you want.”
Tommy made a tsk sound under his breath, but there was no malice behind it, no shame. Instead, just warmth and patience and a fond, familiar sparkle in his blue eyes that made Buck’s chest ache. “Evan,” he had said, his thumb ghosting over Buck’s birthmark before coming to bracket his temple. It was a gesture so simple yet so intimate, it nearly split Buck in two. “What do you want?”
Buck stopped for a beat, letting Tommy’s words settle over him. He felt the fondness behind them all the way in his bones, and something about that made him feel whole, made him feel seen. The words were out before Buck could stop them. “I want to be good for you.”
“You are,” Tommy assured him without so much as a second’s hesitation. He stole another kiss. “You’re perfect.”
Buck’s instinct was to duck away from the praise that settled over him like a balm, soothing the rapidly-fraying edges of his sanity and warming him from the inside out. But Tommy didn’t let him. His fingers hooked beneath Buck’s chin, tilting it back up until their eyes met and Tommy said, “None of that.” His voice was so warm, so gentle and fond and soft, it made Buck’s chest ache. “You can have what you want,” Tommy told him. “Just gotta ask for it.”
Buck’s breath stuttered, his heart hammering against his chest. “I wanna get you off,” he said, barely recognizing the heady rasp in his voice. “Want to take care of you. Make you feel as good as you make me feel.”
Tommy’s eyes were wild as he bit back a groan, as he closed the distance between their lips and kissed Buck for all he’s worth. Without breaking the kiss, he sat back, pulling Buck with him. He tapped Buck’s thigh, humming in appreciation as Buck got the memo and slung a knee over Tommy’s thighs. He settled in Tommy’s lap with a slow, experimental roll of his hips that had both of them seeing stars and struggling to catch their breath. 
Buck loved this, he fucking loved it, being manhandled like this. Tommy’s hands are big and strong and Buck’s never felt better than when they’re on him. He loved that Tommy could take him, that he can hold him and move him however he pleases. It sent a rush of heat dancing across his skin, lust and desire pooling in his belly.
“You’re so good,” Tommy told him, and the words danced up Buck’s spine, heat licking at his skin as he felt a flush creep up his neck. “The best boy.” 
Holy fuck. Tommy knew exactly what he needed to hear, exactly what to say to drive Buck past the point of crazy and all the way to borderline hysteria. Buck whined against Tommy’s lips, rocking his hips as his fingers dug into Tommy’s waist. 
Tommy’s fingers pushed up beneath the hem of Buck’s shirt, splaying out across the warm skin of his lower back. Buck arched his back in a silent invitation, one Tommy accepted instantly, tugging Buck’s shirt over his head and tossing it onto the floor before doing the same to his own. He dropped back against the pillows, looking up at Buck with a happy, hungry grin. Tommy’s hands settled on Buck’s hips just as Buck rolled them again, grinding down on Tommy’s lap before dropping down to his forearms, bracketed on either side of Tommy’s head as he kissed him again. 
“Fuck,” Tommy panted into Buck’s mouth. He rocked up against Buck, his grip on him tightening as his eyes raked over him with a look that could only be described as insatiable. “Look at you.” Tommy’s voice was low, thick with arousal and something that sounded a lot like awe. 
Buck blushed, heat rushing up his neck and burning in his cheeks as he dipped his chin, dropping his gaze with a shy smile. “Hey,” Tommy said gently. It was just one word, but it was unmistakably fond, so much so that it left Buck swallowing past a lump in his throat and pushing down a rush of emotion. Tommy’s fingers were beneath Buck’s chin again, tipping it up gently until their eyes met. “No hiding,” Tommy whispered.
Buck found himself relaxing almost instantly, shyness fading away as he held Tommy’s gaze. Buck’s mind instantly quieted as he stared up at bright, piercing blue that was somehow still soft and kind, gentle in a way that made Buck feel warm and safe. Tommy’s eyes are flanked in tiny, nearly invisible tan lines, courtesy of the way his skin crinkles when he smiles. The lines are barely visible, but Buck already knows them by heart. He’s kissed them and traced them and seen them when he closes his own eyes, in those heavy, floaty moments right before he falls asleep. 
He sees Tommy’s eyes in his dreams, and in the ones when he’s awake, too. He loves the way they sparkle, the mischievous glint behind them that only Buck seems to earn. He could lose himself in them, could drown in the warm, wild, cerulean seas that set his heart on fire and his mind at ease. What a way to go.
Tommy smiled, leaned in and kissed him. It grew heavy quickly, breaking only when Tommy pulled back to draw in a shaky breath. “How d’you want me?”
Jesus Christ. 
Buck’s throat ran dry, clicking as he swallowed and let Tommy’s words hang in the air between them. He placed a hand on Tommy’s broad chest, his fingers splaying out across the smooth skin shrouded in a smattering of dark hair. Tommy’s eyes flitted between Buck’s eyes and his hand, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyebrows raising as Buck pushed him back until his head hit the pillows. 
“Just like this,” Buck said. He took a deep breath, shaky on the exhale as he looked down at Tommy laid out beneath him, drinking in every inch of him, melting into every point of contact where their skin met. Eagerness and a sudden, unwelcome flare of uncertainty burned in his gut, a killer combination that had Buck’s head swimming and his breath catching as he swallowed nervously. “Tell me if I— if it’s not—”
“I will,” Tommy assured him, his hands skating up and down Buck’s flank reassuringly. “Won’t need to, though, cause you’ve got this.” He tipped his chin up, meeting Buck in a kiss that was slow and gentle and instantly chased away the waves of self-doubt rising in Buck’s throat. 
Buck nodded, brushing his thumb over the apple of Tommy’s cheek before trailing his fingers down, his touch ghosting over the heat of his neck and the soft, dark hair on his chest. He got to work on Tommy’s belt, despite the way his hands were trembling with some combination of anticipation and restraint. 
Tommy noticed, because of course he did. It’s what he does. He notices things. Because he’s so tuned into everything Buck does, every breath he takes. His hands left the spot where they’d settled on Buck’s shoulders in favor of covering Buck’s own, curling his fingers around Buck’s. 
Buck opened his mouth to apologize, but Tommy must’ve picked up on that too, because he was leaning forward and kissing him again before Buck had the chance to get the word out. Buck– though, really, it was the self-doubt monster inside him rearing its ugly head– half expected Tommy to nudge Buck’s hands out of the way and unbutton his pants himself. But he didn’t. He just let their fingers sit tangled together as he kissed Buck for a minute, slow and steady and everything Buck hadn’t realized he needed until it was happening. He didn’t rush him, didn’t brush him off, didn't make him feel anything other than good and safe and perfectly capable. 
He doesn't think he’ll ever get over it– how Tommy’s so in tune with him, how he’s able to read Buck so well. Not only does he know what it is Buck needs, but he gives it to him any time he can. Buck’s never felt seen like this before in a romantic relationship, and it’s all so much, so good, but so much. He didn’t know what to do with it other than sigh into Tommy’s kiss and pray he'd never wake up from the dream that his life has become. 
They kissed and they kissed and they kissed, and finally, Buck started moving his hands again, this time with a certainty and a deftness that wasn’t there before. He got Tommy’s jeans unbuttoned, and then he was murmuring “Up,” against his lips, urging Tommy to lift his hips enough that Buck could pull the fabric down. 
Tommy did as he was told, and Buck tossed his jeans and briefs to the floor before stealing another hungry kiss. He trailed a line of hot kisses along Tommy’s jaw, down his neck, across his chest. He had his hands on Tommy’s hips, holding him down as he licked at his nipples and Tommy all but writhed beneath him. “Evan,” he gasped, wild and desperate in a way that had Buck fucking floating. 
He sucked and nipped and kissed his way down Tommy’s chest, leaving small marks and bruises that started blooming as he made his way down, down, down. And then he was face to face with Tommy’s dick– his beautiful dick, flushed red and glistening with precome that had beaded on the tip and was starting to drip down the underside. 
The heady rush of pride and delight that came with the realization that Tommy was wet for him nearly knocked Buck over. God knows Buck himself had soaked through his fair share of boxers in the past few weeks thanks to Tommy, but having a front-row seat to the role reversal was almost too much for Buck to handle. 
He pressed a hot, wet kiss to the tip, his tongue dragging over the slit. Really, he was helpless to do anything else, having given himself over entirely to the lust simmering his veins and thrumming beneath his skin, chasing after the heady rush that came as the salty, musky, irresistible taste of Tommy exploded on his tongue and lit him up until he felt like he was high on it. 
Tommy let out a broken moan, and it was everything. Buck could gladly spend the rest of his life in this bed, coaxing that sound out of him over and over and over again. He wrapped his fingers around Tommy’s cock, relishing in the way Tommy’s breath stuttered and his eyes grew heavy. He gave an experimental stroke, focusing on twisting his wrist in the way he knew feels good when he does it to himself. He was rewarded with a punched-out sound that lay somewhere between a gasp and a groan, and then another as he did it again. 
Tommy was leaking steadily now, and Buck gathered more precome and used it to slick him up. “Oh, fuck,” Tommy panted. His voice was raspy and breathless, and it did nothing but spur Buck on even more. “Just like that, yeah, just like that.”
“Yeah?” Buck hummed, confidence building with each passing second, with each delicious sound that fell from Tommy’s lips. “You like that?” Buck asked, pleasantly surprised to hear the rasp in his own voice. He didn’t sound quite as fucked-out as Tommy did– not yet, at least– but his breath was starting to come a little more ragged, his heart starting to hammer a little harder in his chest. 
Tommy nodded, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he dropped his head back against the pillows. “Yes, yes," he practically chanted, the word punched out of him as Buck doubled down, wrapping his free hand around the base, twisting it opposite his other hand and earning himself a filthy, drawn-out moan. 
Buck’s own dick strained against his jeans, harder than he thought he'd ever been as he watched Tommy fall apart beneath his hands. His hands. He was the one doing this to him, making him feel this good. That alone was enough to have Buck teetering on the edge, his skin hot and his mind hazy.
He dipped his chin down again, pressing another kiss to the head, before running his tongue down the underside as his fingers trailed down to Tommy’s balls. 
Tommy jerked beneath him, his back arching and his hands fisting in the sheets so hard it was a miracle they didn't tear. 
“Good?” Buck asked, pulling back just enough that Tommy could hear him, but not enough that the vibrations from his voice didn't send a jolt up Tommy’s spine. 
Tommy’s toes curled and his breath stuttered as he nodded. “Good, yes, good,” he promised, his breath ragged. “Please,” he begged. For what, Buck wasn’t entirely sure. But he’d be damned if he stopped before he figured it out. “Please, baby.” 
Buck loved it, couldn’t get enough of the way Tommy– one of the calmest, coolest people he had the privilege of knowing– lost his composure like this, how he started to babble and beg, his words slurring together as he gave himself over to the ecstasy rushing through his veins and started to come undone. 
Buck kept one hand on Tommy’s cock, long languid strokes that were just shy of enough to get him off, but still enough to have him moaning and whining a litany of broken sounds beneath him. Buck took his other hand back, drinking in the strangled gasp that fell from Tommy’s lips as he watched Buck stick two of his fingers in his own mouth, licking and sucking at them as his eyes locked with Tommy’s. 
There was fire burning in Tommy’s eyes, an insatiable hunger as he watched Buck, completely transfixed. 
Buck released his fingers with a wet, filthy sound and wasted no time before slipping them between Tommy’s ass cheeks, grinning at the way Tommy absolutely whined. One of Tommy’s hands flew to Buck's shoulder in an attempt to anchor himself, the other staying where it was, twisted up in the sheets. Buck shifted his weight, keeping Tommy’s thighs locked between his knees so he didn’t arch off the bed. 
It was something Buck never could have done with any of the women he’s ever slept with— he was always very conscious of his own strength, too worried about being too much, too strong, too powerful. But not with Tommy. Tommy’s big and strong, broad and muscular just like Buck is. They’re evenly matched— even if Tommy’s hands are bigger than Buck’s, something that still makes heat pool in Buck’s belly when he thinks about it. Tommy can hold his own, can handle himself. What’s even more, Tommy can handle Buck, too.  
So Buck kept Tommy’s thighs in a vice grip, and Tommy’s breath hitched and his cock jumped in Buck’s hand, and Buck had to breathe through the wave of pure, unadulterated pride that swelled in his chest and broke over his skin. He felt like a glow stick, cracked open and glowing from the inside out for anyone to see. 
He teased Tommy’s rim with the pads of his fingers, drinking in the tiny punched-out moans and broken gasps that were falling from Tommy’s lips as he did. And then he dropped a kiss to Tommy’s jaw and pushed one finger in, enveloped by warm, slick heat up to the second knuckle. Tommy cursed, spilling over Buck’s fingers and onto his chest as his orgasm rushed over him. 
Buck was mesmerized, completely transfixed with the way Tommy’s back arched, the way his lips fell open on a silent sob, his fingers digging into Buck’s skin hard enough Buck found himself hoping they would leave bruises. Tommy’s beautiful always, but especially like that– coming undone beneath Buck’s hands, skin flushed as he rode out his orgasm with ragged breaths and tiny, uncontrollable jerks of his hips. 
Tommy blinked slowly, his smile syrupy sweet as he came back to himself and saw Buck leaning over him. He reached up and cupped Buck through his pants, grinding his palm against the bulge where his cock was straining against the front seam of the denim. 
“Good boy, let go,” Tommy practically purred, the words shooting straight through him. Buck felt like he was on fire, absolutely glowing as the praise washed over him and his orgasm built. He was helpless to stop the whine that fell from his lips, though he was so far past the point of holding back with Tommy, he didn’t even try. He still had a finger in Tommy’s ass, and when Tommy clenched around him, Buck’s vision whited out as he came with a strangled cry.
It took a minute for Buck’s brain to come back online, for him to relax into the sweet kisses Tommy was peppering across his jaw and his cheeks and his neck, to ease his finger out and take a deep, sated breath. 
“Hi,” Buck slurred after a beat, his voice heavy in a post-orgasm haze.
Tommy grinned, tugging him back in as lazy kisses turned hungry, then lazy again. Buck pulled back to catch his breath, warmth exploding behind his chest as he sat back and took in the sight of Tommy before him. And a few minutes later, when he asked, with just a hint of trepidation creeping into the edges of his voice, if it had been good, he was instantly settled by Tommy's immediate and genuine assurance.
And now, as Buck lays on Tommy’s chest, he doesn’t feel the tackiness of the come cooling between them. He doesn’t feel the wet spot in his own pants, or the faint burn in his wrist. He just feels happy. And good. And proud. 
And when, a little while later, Tommy will mumble “C’mon,” and ease Buck up to guide him to the shower, Buck will go easily, without hesitation. He’ll go anywhere Tommy asks him to, would follow Tommy anywhere he wants to go. Maybe that's how it was always destined to be. Or maybe not. But it's where they are now.
They're together, and nothing has ever made Buck feel quite as proud as that. 
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yuwuta · 2 months
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yuuta exhibits such previously abandoned, recently adopted dog behavior. incredibly anxious all the time, even though nobody’s out to get him or leave him behind. waits for you to return home or from school or from work excitedly, just to see you when you walk through the door. follows you around senselessly, hovering in your space just for the sake of companionship. initiates affection in prodding ways—starts off next to you, then a hand on your thigh, then deems it safe to lay all the way down, then slowly pushes his head into your lap. gets up whenever you need to get up, and resumes his position as soon as you’re ready. brings you gifts as a sign that he’s thinking of you, and maybe because he likes the affection it brings out in you, maybe because he likes the gentle affirming touches of a hand in his hair or a pinch to his cheek. rests his head on your stomach or his chin on your shoulder when he’s sleepy, stays there, immobile, and will not move unless absolutely necessary. sometimes he gets surprised when he hears you calling for him, there’s a moment of disbelief as he thinks “me? really? you need me?” but it’s very quickly overshadowed by this compulsive need to show up, to please, to do anything for you, which is why he always answers when you call. he doesn’t realize that he has puppygod eyes, especially when he’s excited or confused, but he does and it’s incredible endearing. very reluctant to share your space or attention after a while, considers that to be sacred and he won’t risk being let go or lost again, so as a safety precaution, he keeps himself right by you, waits for you always. 
#atp i need to shut and write the omega verse fics that consistency plague my mind#but while im here time for my obligatory megumi mention bc i mentioned dogs teehee#yes megumi attack dog hes megumi grumbly yes megumi bark bark bite bite BUT BUT BUTTTT#megumi is also used to like... hm........ taming? having? caring for? people in his life and also literal (divine) dogs#so for him yes he bites and barks#but he also... he gets confused if YOU dont follow him around like a puppy bc everyone else in his life has so why not you?#gojo's always been the annoying yapping pomeranian chewing on his arm even if he didn't ask#always in megumi's space even tho he didn't ask but he learned to deal with it#won't admit it but knows that too much attention is better than having someone who couldn't give a shit about you#yuuji is the golden in everybody's life and megumi is no exception#unmovable unshakeable and incredibly addictive even if he doesn't mean to be#and very very attached to the people he cares about so yeah yuuji is loud and annoying but he's also loyal and megumi respects that so fine#nobara is like... she decided she liked megumi and was upset about it so she bit his ankle and he tried to kick her off but she has too muc#pride to get shaken off by someone as scrawny as megumi and somewhere along the way megumi became impressed that she was still there even i#it hurt a bit and she was a little rough it's not like he was worse so fine whatever she can stay too#so if you like... if you dont hover around megumi if you dont pry if you dont prod then he has to be the dog smh#now he's gotta bite for your attention and nudge you and how annoying. he's gonna keep doing it tho. as long as he has to#or until you learn to fall in line and accept your leash too whichever comes first n e way.... anyway.............#somebody's pampered omega always gets what he wants megumi complex is showing......#this was about yuuta right? ok i'll put his tags now....#juju#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yuuta okkotsu x reader#yuta okkotsu x reader
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wikiangela · 2 months
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Seven Sentence Sunday
tagged by @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples @tizniz 💖
today a different wip again that I don't think I shared yet lol - writing a smutty sequel to my bucktommy post-first date fic and it's barely started but there's progress! 😅
___
“Say that again.” Buck says quietly, even to his own ears sounding almost frantic. His hands twist in the fabric of Tommy’s t-shirt, and pull him as close as possible with their seatbelts on. He needs to get to his place as soon as possible and get enveloped in Tommy, no room for air between them, he just needs him closer, closer, closer.
“Say what?” Tommy teases, lips brushing the shell of Buck’s ear, knowing damn well what Buck wants to hear. 
“You know what.” Buck pulls away slightly, just to meet Tommy’s eyes, and can’t stop a pout that quickly turns into an awed smile. It’s a late evening, the sky is dark, just like the inside of the car, only illuminated by the lights of the city as they’re driving, and Tommy looks so gorgeous. There’s an amused smile playing on his kiss-swollen lips, but even in the dark Buck can see his own desire mirrored in Tommy’s eyes.
“What?” he smirks, leans closer to press a kiss to his lips again. “Baby?” he whispers, and Buck shivers, a sharp gasp escaping him. Oh, he likes this. He likes when Tommy calls him just about anything, in that wonderful voice of his, but this, being called a pet name like this by a man, it’s new and thrilling, and that man being Tommy is just so exhilarating, it makes his racing heart skip a beat, and it only adds to the heat pooling in his stomach. Shit, he needs to get Tommy alone right the fuck now.
___
no pressure tags: @elvensorceress @thebravebitch @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @watchyourbuck @eowon @loserdiaz @evanbegins @ladydorian05 @wildlife4life @diazpatcher @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @thewolvesof1998 @weewootruck @loveyouanyway @spagheddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @epicbuddieficrecs @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @nmcggg @rogerzsteven @hippolotamus @giddyupbuck @sunshinediaz @honestlydarkprincess @underwaterninja13 @exhuastedpigeon @911-on-abc @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @buddieswhvre @fortheloveofbuddie @your-catfish-friend @daffi-990 @dangerpronebuddie @hoodie-buck @aroeddiediaz @bidisasterevankinard
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iceman-soup · 6 months
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amab masc!reader x bot!price
Sure, he's your superior, but if Price gets you that hard whenever he calls you "sir," then who are you to deny him some role reversal?
And yeah, maybe you both realised it was a thing by accident, when he sarcastically said "yes, sir," just to be a little bitch, but the way you blushed and had to adjust your trousers certainly didn't go unnoticed, and it's not really his fault that he had to call you into his office later anyway. I mean, he could've avoided teasing you, calling you "sir" even then, but what's the fun in that?
Especially when it ended up with him pressed against the wall, one hand over his mouth to muffle his moans as you fuck him senseless, leaving hickeys high enough on his neck to be visible whatever he's wearing, pulling his hand away to hear his cute little begs and whimpers as he wanks himself off as best he can whilst you pound into him.
Breathing heavy when he calls you "captain," even though you're nowhere near that rank. His hole clenching around your dick, milking your cum from it and making him fall into you when you loosen your grip on him. Whining that he's not cum yet, pouting when you take his hands and pin them up against the wall again.
"Please, Captain, sir," he sobs, hips bucking against nothing, desperate for friction. When you reach a hand down, light touches to his cock to tease him, he cries out a far too loud "please," forcing you to shut him up with your mouth, sharing kisses as you move your hand up and down til he cums all over it, his teeth biting your lip as he moans out a final "sir," whimpering and leaning into you tiredly.
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ghouljams · 1 year
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Fae boys having a massive sweet tooth works out just fine for me cause I like to bake. *shovels cake down their throats*
There's something sort of cute about the way Simon rests his chin on your shoulder as you stir the milk and flour mixture you have thickening on the stove. His arms wrap around your waist pulling you back against his chest with a deep rumbling noise. You can't take your hands off your cooking, but you lean your head against his affectionately.
"Smells good," he mumbles, turning to press his nose against your pulse. You laugh, turning off the stove and moving the pan off the heat.
"I'm not even half done," you tell him. Simon hums, not moving from where he's settled, "Ten minutes, it needs to cool or the eggs will scramble." You reach back to thread your fingers through his hair, scratching gently as you feel his tongue drag against your skin.
"Plenty of time."
"What's got you so nee-" you shriek as he lifts you, arms squeezing tight around you so he can carry you to the living room. You both fall haphazardly onto the couch before Simon positions you how he'd like on his lap. His hands grip your hips and drag them to grind down against him. "This is not a ten minute activity Simon," you remind him, making no effort to stop his enticing movements.
"We don't have to stop," he tells you.
"You can't fuck me while I'm cooking."
But he can, and he does, bending you over the counter as you try to stir in your eggs. The snap of his hips, his thick cock dragging against your walls, you drop your head and try to ignore the tight coil of heat he's winding up in you. You feel yourself start to slide against the counter, your hands losing purchase against the marble top. Simon's hand wraps around your neck, pulling you back up.
"Focus, Love," he purrs in your ear, his thrusts short and deep and brain melting. He has a lot of nerve telling you to focus with his fingers circling your clit like that.
"You are- fuck," you gasp. Simon hums in agreement. You feel him pull on one of the gold threads in your chest and your orgasm crashes into you. "Not fair," you whine, high and tight in your throat as he fucks you through it.
"Now you can focus," you can hear him smiling. If you didn't know he wasn't, you'd think he might be the devil.
You know exactly why he was so determined to fuck you boneless when he pulls the tray of perfect pâte à choux from the oven and eats every single one. Those were supposed to be a gift.
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sttoru · 6 months
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idk who needs to hear this but write what the fuck u want man 😭😭 drabbles & long fics about whatevaaaaa. jus do what YOU want, not because you feel obligated to
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tswwwit · 5 months
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(nft w) Dipper ear nose throat doctor. Have to learn bout throat. Bill teach? 😎
Oh, poor anon! I must have bonked you on the head too many times before sending you to horny jail. Don't worry - one of my goals for this year is another smut, and that might help you recover.
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analogwriting · 3 months
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Star-Crossed
Chapter 18: Core
Donquixote Rosinante x gn!reader word count: 3.5k a/n: uh, sorry it's been so long. life's been wiiiiild lmao first|next
Time went by quickly. The staff operated as if nothing happened - as if they hadn’t just been out for over a week. They were acting like it was just another run of the mill day and you were grateful for that. 
No one tried to get in contact with this side of the hospital. Well, one person did, but it was just a check in that was easily faked. It was also only a couple of hours, so it wasn’t like you had a lot of time for things to happen.
It felt too easy, but if Corazon was right, your father was banking on you being out for the count for a while. So unless Doflamingo were to somehow get ahold of him, he'd be none the wiser. The man must've thought he could take you on his own and didn't notify anyone you were here earlier. Good thing he had such a massive ego. It worked in your favor.
“Alright, get ready. It's shift change,” you said to one of your staff members. “Gather up a few more and we'll head over. I'm going to keep watch to see who comes in.” After all, you didn't want to get any innocents involved. 
You watched the screens, making note of who came and went. It seemed like it was a lot of your normal night staff, but with some of your father's men sprinkled in. Probably only about a handful. Nothing you couldn't handle. 
“Ready?” You looked over as one of your staff members poked their head in, you nodded. “There's about five of my father's men. The rest are normal staff.” They nodded as you headed towards the door. 
“Follow my lead. Just like before. We should be able to take care of this quickly.” Unfortunately, however, it was going to be a bit harder. You didn't have a series of tunnels on that side of the hospital, so you dressed in scrubs, including a mask and bouffant cap. You couldn't risk anyone recognizing you. Your staff could get by in just normal scrubs luckily.
You and three other staff members went with you to the front side of the hospital. You went in through the main entrance, acting like you were rolling in for your shift. 
You were greeted by the night receptionist. You waved at him, heading further into the hospital. You and the three others you were with spread out. You had debriefed them quickly on who was on this side that didn't belong. “Make sure to report to my office in an hour,” you muttered to the three of them. They all nodded and you went your separate ways. 
“Doctor, you're back?” You tensed, moving quickly. You grabbed whomever it was, pulling them into the storage closet, covering their mouth. It was Nico Robin. She didn't look scared or startled by your actions, however. 
“I can't let anyone know I'm here,” you said quietly.
She nodded in understanding and you removed your hand from her mouth. “Sorry about that.”
“It's quite alright. I knew something was up when you and Marco stopped showing up. Along with the boys. All of us staff did. Then new people rolled in, claiming new management. Glad to see you back.” She had a relaxed smile and you wondered why the hell she was so calm. Most people would be freaking out by now. 
“We're not as in the dark as you think, doctor. Not anymore at least. The newcomers aren't bright and talk very loud. And you know this place is a hub for gossip.” 
You couldn't help but smile from under your mask. “Well, it's nice to know people were still willing to stay.”
“Of course we did. We all knew you'd come back for us. Even if it took some time. Besides, they mostly left us alone and let us operate how we usually did.” She shrugged, folding her arms across her chest.
That was good. You had been worried that they'd completely overturn the place, at least they seemed to have trusted your staff on the front side to keep things operating. Though, Robin and your staff’s trust in you coming back meant the world to you. You had no idea they held you in such high regards. Everything was slowly being put into perspective for you.
You owed everyone so much at this point. You were already planning on giving everyone some extra vacation days and some gifts because this was insane. 
“There is one girl who is going around barking orders, but she doesn't seem to know the first thing about being a doctor.” Robin gave an amused laugh, shaking her head. “I think her name was Trinity? I'm not sure. I never paid much attention to her. However, she's out today.”
You felt your blood boil at the mention of her. Not necessarily at her, though. She was a victim and barely even an adult. Your blood boiled because you still couldn't believe your father. You couldn't believe he completely sired and raised a child all this time without you knowing. That he specifically kept it from you as well. 
You shoved those thoughts away. “Sorry again, Robin. Thank you for everything. I'll let you go.”
Robin just smiled her easy going smile and nodded. “It's quite alright, just like I said. Good luck, doctor.” With that, she left. 
You stayed there a moment longer, taking a deep breath. It was absolutely nerve wracking right now. Plus, how the hell did Robin immediately recognize you? You thought you were completely covered. Maybe Robin was just really good at recognizing people. That's what you hoped anyway. You somewhat banked on that hope.
After recollecting yourself, you headed out of the storage closet like nothing happened, continuing back towards your office. “Is it just radio silence over there?” You heard a voice coming from your office and you slowed down, sticking close to the wall as you listened from around the corner. 
“Yeah. I haven't been able to get ahold of anyone for a couple of hours. I figured they were busy, but I'm starting to get worried. They did check in, but nothing else. Which isn’t normal.” Ah, shit.
From the sounds of the voices, it was your father's right hand men, Daniel and Gabriel. You felt your chest tighten. These men were practically your uncles, they helped raise you, but they treated you just as coldly as your father did now. 
You took a deep breath before quieting your racing heart so you could listen. 
“You don't think they're back to take over the hospital, do you?”
“Nah, that's impossible. The boss made sure to crush their spirit. Besides, they signed the papers. Even if they tried to take things back, in the face of the law, the hospital isn't theirs anymore. I'm sure they're busy fixing someone up. I heard there was a shootout earlier today anyway.” 
You felt your blood boil even more. So, Corazon was right. Your father was banking on psychological warfare. How could you do such a thing to your own child? You still couldn’t believe he’d go so far. It was disgusting honestly. All this for what?
“If they would've just stopped with their stupid fantasyland, we wouldn't be in this situation.” A sigh could be heard. You felt your eye twitch.
“That's true. They have no one to blame but themselves.” A laugh. “For a doctor, they sure are dumb.” Both of them started laughing. 
Oh, you were going to fuck them up royally. You didn't care that these men helped raise you. These weren't the caring uncles you grew up with. Those men were dead - fake. 
“Wait, what's that on the camera? Is someone listening?” Shit. Well, there was no hiding now. You ripped off your mask and bouffant.
You rounded the corner, pulling out your gun, training it at them and they did the same to you. You shot once, getting one of them in the leg. Daniel cried out, kneeling on the ground. With one hand he covered the wound, with the other he pointed his gun at you. 
“What are you doing here?” You could hear slight fear in Gabriel's voice. It was true. Your father’s men did fear you. At least a little bit. You glared at the both of them. 
“What the fuck does it look like? I'm taking my hospital back.” 
“You can't. You signed it over.”
“Did I?”
You let another gunshot fly, getting Gabriel in the arm. He dodged, the bullet only grazing him. Shit. You heard another gunshot, dodging and rolling to the side. You shot the doorstop, making your door close so that no loose bullets could hit innocent passersbys. At least they had been smart enough to have silencers, so there wouldn’t be too much noise.
Your office was a good size, but it wasn't exactly a good size for a shootout. No place indoors would be. You needed to end this quickly. Right now it was a stalemate. The two of them behind the desk and you in front. You had to think. What to do… There were two of them and only one of you. Then an idea popped into your head.
With a deep breath, you shot at your metal cabinet, the bullet ricocheting and shooting behind the desk. You heard one of them cry out and a gun skitter to the floor. Luckily, they hadn’t been standing so the gun didn’t accidentally go off. “Gabriel!” You stood up quickly, pointing your gun at the otherside.
You saw Gabriel laying there on the ground, crumpled. Daniel was shaking him, but the man wasn’t moving. “He’s dead, Daniel.” You didn’t have to look to see. The rapidly accumulating blood on the floor told you enough. Must’ve gotten him in the neck.
The man looked at you with rage in his eyes. He turned, aiming his gun at you and just shooting blindly. Never shoot when blind with emotion - your father taught you that. First lesson. Luckily, you were able to predict that he was going to react like that, quickly ducking back behind the desk while the bullets made their way into your ceiling. They stopped in the softer tiles instead of bouncing off of them.
“How could you do such a thing, y/n?” You could hear the distress in his voice and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Says the man who was just shooting me,” you mumbled.
“We’re supposed to be family. Does that mean nothing to you? Gabriel even helped teach you how to drive a car. How could you treat him so coldly?” You sat there, astonished.
Was he really trying to guilt you right now? That was fucking rich.
You rounded the corner of your desk and before Daniel could even turn, you sent your fist into his face. The shock alone was enough to loosen his grip on his own gun and you snatched it out of his hands like taking a toy from a toddler.
You took him by the collar and pulled him in closer, glaring at him. “Are you really trying to use that on me right now? The two men who treated me like a stranger when I came to visit? The two men who just tried to kill me? The two men who were just banking on my mental breakdown to keep me from coming back?” You shook your head.
“Family means nothing to the likes of you. That much is clear.” 
“Y/n, please. Don’t do this. Think of all the good times we’ve had.” You acted like you were going to think about it, standing up and letting him go. He went to reach for Gabriel’s gun and you shot him in the head with a sigh. “Pathetic.”
Your therapist was going to be going into overtime. You were going to probably pay them extra these next few sessions. Maybe also get in a couple extra sessions. You had a lot of things to work through.
You closed your eyes, taking a moment. You were trying your best to keep it together right now, but you honestly felt like you were about to explode. This was the worst. Everything turned out so shitty. Everything had fallen apart so fast but…
Your mind shifted to what you did have. Pops and Marco. Corazon. Your staff. You just regained control over your hospital. Everything would sort itself out. You were sure.
After a moment of internal crisis, you glanced over to the desktop, checking the cameras. It seemed everyone else was apprehended as well. You saw them all knocked out and tied up in one of the conference rooms that was currently closed off. 
“There’s still one missing.” Your staff came into the office. Had it been an hour already? Shit, time was flying. “I’ll go look for them. Someone keep an eye on the others, one patrol the halls, and the other stay here and keep an eye on these two. They’re dead, but mostly make sure no one else wanders in to see them - and keep an eye on the cameras.” The three of them nodded and you turned to head out first.
You headed down the hallway. Everything was pretty quiet for the most part. It was late enough in the night that most, if not all, of the patients were asleep. It was a skeleton crew of staff as well. It was calm, eerily calm. Even though you had just murdered two men in cold blood in your office, things were oddly serene and it made you uneasy. You were just waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
You suddenly felt someone yank you into an empty room and hands around your throat. Oh sweet fuck. You struggled for a second, clawing and trying to get them to let go. You saw it was another person from your father’s crew, the one you had just been looking for. Well, you found them at least.
Black started to encroach on the edges of your vision as you started seeing stars. Fuck, fuck, fuck. You decided to drop your weight, startling them into loosening their grip and you gasped, beginning to cough and rolling a away from them to give yourself space. You felt them run over to you, stepping over you to straddle you but you didn’t stop moving long enough to let them succeed and you shoved them backwards as you sat up, sending them tumbling.
You quickly darted over to them and before they could gather themselves and stand up, you brought their head down onto the floor, knocking them out cold. You were panting as you sat down on the floor next to their unconscious body. Fuck, that was close. You rubbed your throat, just knowing it was probably going to bruise. Any longer and they probably would’ve done some serious damage to your windpipe too.
You closed your eyes, flopping on the ground to catch your breath. Man, this was exhausting. You just wanted to sleep.
You let yourself catch your breath before taking your assailant and tying them up, sticking them with the others. At this point, it was starting to get light outside. You didn’t even realize that much time had passed. Maybe you passed out for a minute there without realizing.
--
Now, everything was running like it used to. You called in all the staff you had from the underground side of the hospital. They were stationed on both sides, keeping an eye on things. You would probably have to keep security up for the time being until you would resolve this issue once and for all.
With Doflamingo out of commission for the most part and Crocodile straight up out of the picture, you weren’t sure there was really much else to do besides confront your father. You just weren’t sure how you were going to do that.
“So, you really did it, huh?” You turned around, seeing Marco walking into your office. You’d long since cleaned up the mess you made earlier. You felt weirdly numb about everything. Maybe it hadn’t fully sunk in yet. Some things still felt like a bad dream.
“I suppose I did,” you responded in a monotonous voice. You were painfully exhausted. Going from a hermit and depressive episode straight into action and fighting wasn’t exactly easy to do. Your entire body ached and you longed for sleep. “Wait, what are you doing here?” It just dawned on you - you didn’t call him.
“You should head home and get some rest,” Marco said with a frown as he examined you, ignoring your question. “Oh, that looks rough.” His eyes were on your neck. “That bad?” He nodded in response. You had been so busy making sure everyone else was okay and that the intruders were taken care of in a discreet manner that you hadn’t even had time to look at your own injuries. You know your had a few grazes from bullets as well that you hadn’t tended to just yet either.
“There’s still so much for me to do.”
“Well, run it over with me and I’ll take over. We can hold it from here.” You just looked at Marco, debating on whether or not to do just that.
Marco shook his head. “Sorry. I phrased that like you had a choice. I’m telling you to do it and that you are going to go home and rest after.” You were honestly so exhausted that you didn’t even argue with him.
For the most part, everything was taken care of. The intruders had been disposed of. Doflamingo was taken care of and sent back to his people in the terrible state he was stuck in. You had also made sure he knew that the hospital was still in your name. They had no legal hold in the issue. 
Right now, it was just making sure that no one else tried to take things over. It was a waiting game for most things to blow over. You weren’t sure if the families were going to try to retaliate or not.
You filled Marco in on everything, walking him through things as he patched you up. You had called in all your staff and even called in some older staff that had retired. Just to see if they’d help watch over the hospital. Luckily, they were all willing to help and you had extra security around the clock. At least for a little while.
Now, it was your turn to rest. You almost just collapsed in the breakroom, but you knew that Corazon was probably worried about you right now. Marco had mentioned something about him wanting to come but Marco had talked him out of it. 
“I told him that you would need motivation to go home and he’d be great motivation.” That had only made your face turn bright red. He wasn’t wrong, nothing was more enticing than the thought of curling up in bed with your boyfriend right now…he was your boyfriend, right? You two didn’t officially say anything, but you assumed as much.
Fuck, you were two tired to think.
You weren’t even fully there on the way home either. You blinked and you were in front of Pops’ house. Did you drive here? You were behind the wheel so you guessed you did. Maybe you really just zoned out. At least you didn’t get hurt and neither did anyone else. 
You weren’t going to do that again.
You slowly climbed out of the car, the adrenaline leaving your body. Everything felt like it was made of stone and you were sluggish in your movements. Not too much further. You yawned, stretching. As you stepped towards the gates, they opened, revealing Corazon. He immediately took your face in his hands and kissed you hard. It was now your turn to make a noise of surprise.
He picked you up, spinning you around in excitement. “You’re okay!”
Oh, sweet jesus you were going to throw up. “Oh fuck, please put me down. I’m going to hurl.”
“Oh, sorry.” He put you down with a frown. You shook your head. “It’s okay. Not your fault. I already felt like shit.” You took a deep breath, shaking your head. “I’m good now.” Corazon frowned as he seemed to notice the bruising on your neck. His fingers lightly traced the skin and you felt your breathing hitch.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he mumbled.
Before you could say anything, you felt the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you shoved him through the opening of the gate. “Get down!” You heard two gunshots go off and a car speed off before pain immediately seared in your back and shoulder. It was so intense that you weren’t even sure where it was originating exactly.
The world began to spin immediately as your body started growing cold and numb. Oh fuck. It wasn’t your spine. You were sure it was your shoulder and maybe your waist. Nothing too damaging - you hoped. Not that you were able to think much before your entire world went black.
next
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becca-e-barnes · 1 year
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I'm not really feeling like myself today so I'm gonna indulge myself a little.
I don't remember the last time I talked about anal on here but more specifically, I'm imagining Lee and his little innocent wife again (I know you've all missed Lee as much as I have 🥵)
I think anal would be something she wouldn't often ask for because I always imagine she's quite shy about asking for what she wants but anal becomes one of their mutual favourites very quickly.
The way Lee would dote on you before anal just makes me melt. He's not nearly as reckless and rough. It's all gentle praises and soft kisses, trailing his thick fingers against your soaked sex until they're well enough coated in your arousal that he can slide two into your ass.
He'd be so mesmerised by the way you enjoy it; watching the sweet, innocent woman he married begin to explore her own sexuality and slowly start to indulge in fantasies she'd never admitted to anyone else just does it for him.
Lee's not a stranger to toys in the bedroom but nothing makes him hard like the memory of the first evening he came home from work to his wife, a couple of days after he'd got you a cute little princess plug.
He's usually greeted with a brief kiss when he comes in the door but that night, you couldn't tear your mouth off his if you tried. He tastes faintly of the toffees he keeps in the car but his mouth is so warm and distinctly his, it's addictive.
"What's gotten into you, sweetie?" You've pressed yourself flush against his body, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him while your fingers hook his belt loops, pulling him closer.
" 'm sorry. I need you." You've been worked up all day, imagining how your husband will touch you when he gets home and now he's here, you don't want to wait. The dinner can burn for all you care.
You notice how warm his hands are as they shift from your waist, reaching down to squeeze your ass and when you whimper against his mouth, it all clicks for him.
"Livin' room, sweetheart." That's exactly where he wants to be right now, instead of cramped in your tiny little hallway and when you don't make a move, he scoops you up and carries you there before sitting down in his armchair.
"Turn around. Bend over." They're clear instructions. Your feet are planted between his as you follow his lead. He pulls the skirt of your dress up and your underwear down your legs.
"God, do y'have any idea how wet you are?" The sparkling end of the plug sits neatly between the cheeks of your ass but it's hard to miss the way your slick arousal seems to almost glisten on your skin in the dim lighting.
Your breath catches in your throat feeling your husband trail his thick fingers from your neglected clit, back to tease your soaked entrance. Your body resists him pressing into you though. Having one hole filled at a time is more than enough for you for now.
"Thought I'd try it this mornin'. Slipped it in before I started the cleaning." You might feel embarrassed at how exposed you are if you weren't so turned on. "Couldn't even think straight by noon."
"Such a good girl for me. Shoulda called, honey. I'd have come straight home" He taps the base of the plug rhythmically and even that's enough to make you squirm. With his other hand, he's palming his own cock through his work trousers but that's not his main focus in that moment.
"Let me take the edge off for you. I'll take real good care of you after dinner, how does that sound?" His fingers circle your clit with the kind of ease that only comes with practice while he taps the base of the plug with the fingers of his other hand. Your body flutters around the metal inside you, offering a pleasant reminder of how full you feel and you're quite sure nothing will compare to the evening you have ahead of you.
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