#nothing will work until he does bob right

[peachypinkygloss]

call me tomorrow — jjk

Jungkook takes more and more place in your mind as you still wonder if he has a place in your life. You try to find an answer, but fucking him in his car might not be the best way to find out.

☼ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

☼ genre: strangers to fwb to lovers, summer break au, university au, smut

☼ word count: 3.5k

☼ warnings: alcohol consumption, another party (am i unoriginal? yes), they're hornyyyy, don't think too much about the drama it's nothing 👀, car sex, unprotected sex & oral sex, tits play, brief face fucking, blowjob, cum eating, cum play (well yes again).

a.n.: happy bday to jk!! as promised, here's my gift for you guys 🫶🏻

You're looking through the big window in the living room, perched over the sofa, chin resting on your open palm. You're watching Jungkook working, following your father's instructions.

It's sunny today, so the temperature is really hot, not a great weather to be outside, honestly.

"You should bring him some fresh lemonade." You hear your mother tell you from the kitchen, clearly seeing that you're gawking at the cute guy mowing the lawn. You're not super subtle about it to say the least.

You turn around and sit on the sofa on your butt instead of on your knees. Since the kitchen opens on the living room, you can see your mother filling up a glass with the lemonade she just made.

"He deserves it, don't you think?" She questions and you glimpse at him again, noticing he's almost finished with the backyard. You look back at your mom, squinting your eyes at her, wondering what she's trying to do.

Even though you don't know what she has in mind, you have to agree with her.

That's how you find yourself walking up to him, halting in the middle of your way because he offers you a stunning view of his muscles. He stops the mower from moving and uses his right hand to lift up his white t-shirt, wiping his forehead and neck with the hem, showing off his abs at the same time.

His skin glows under the sunlight, the tattoos adorning his arm making the entire scene look so sinful. This guy is ripped and you ask yourself if you'll be able to find your sanity after that.

You have a flashback of him between your legs, fingering you until orgasm. You feel your face heating up, but you shake your head and quickly find your senses again.

You're just bringing lemonade so he can ease his dried throat a little bit. That's what you tell yourself, but you know you secretly have ulterior motives.

He notices you when he lets go of his t-shirt, his eyebrows raising as he watches you walking up to him.

"My mom thought you might be a little thirsty," you explain as you hand him the glass of lemonade, some droplets of water trickling over your fingers.

He smiles, taking the drink, his fingers brushing against yours. "Thanks." He brings the glass to his lips, swallowing the fresh lemonade down his throat. His Adam's apple bobs as he does so and you have to look away to not melt down at the sight.

He hands you the now empty glass back, having drunk the whole thing in one shot. He really was thirsty.

You tap your nails against the glass as you look at each other, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you think about what you should tell him.

He did call you after your pretty incredible hook-up a few days ago. He's a man of his words, unlike you. That's a good reason to give him a chance, right? It's not like the men in your life have been really honest so far.

When you look at him, you really don't think he would hurt a soul and surely not yours. When you remember how his eyes were glancing at your naked body, how soft they were, like he truly had no intention of letting you go one day.

You wonder if really the bad guy might be you. If there has to be one, anyway. But if someone would have to be hurt, it'd probably be him.

You check if your father's around, but you don't see him. You pull on Jungkook's arm, bringing his ear close to your mouth. "Meet me in my room after. My mom will be out," you whisper and back away to look at his face.

He looks surprised, but he nods his head nonetheless. "Okay," he agrees, not so difficult to convince. Especially if it concerns you.

·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡

As you're waiting on your bed, mindlessly scrolling on instagram, you finally hear a knock on your door. You jump on your feet and rush to the door. You take a big breath and open it, butterflies flapping their wings in your belly when you see Jungkook's adorable face.

"Hey," he chuckles, scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Hi," you smile and bring him inside your bedroom by pulling on his arm.

You close the door behind you and when you turn around his eyes are already on you, the corners of his lips lifted up in a toothy smile. You exhale through your nose, wondering how this guy can be so good-looking and end up working in your backyard.

"Cool room," he says while looking around, seeing the small — but growing — collection of purses you have as well as your bookcase, mostly filled with books you still haven't read.

"Thanks," you respond, walking up to him as he's still observing every corner of your room. You grab his hand, pleasantly bigger and warmer than yours, and make him face you. "I have other plans than looking at my room, though," you grin.

"Oh, yeah?" He mirrors the smile on your face, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth to refrain the smirk on his face from growing larger.

"Yeah..." You lay your palm on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss you've been thrilled to finally give him.

You look him in the eye as you slowly drop down to your knees, Jungkook's breath itching when he sees you kneeling for him. "You don't have to, really..."

You place your hands on his thighs and raise your head to lay your eyes on him, smirking. "You hurt your knees for me, Kook. It's my turn," you say confidently, dragging the fly of his shorts down and popping out the button.

Jungkook can't help but grin, helping you with his shorts, pulling them down under his butt. You palm him over his boxers and you're happy to feel him again, big and stiff; how you like it.

He extends his arm to pat your hair, taking a hold of your chin and making you look at him. His thumb gently strokes your cheek, then delicately passes over your bottom lip, parting your lips from each other.

You kiss his digit, a beautiful smile forming on his lips. His piercings slightly glint under the dim light of your bedroom, his pink tongue coming to toy with them.

He brings his thumb to his mouth and kisses it too, approaching it again to your own mouth, pressing his finger down on your lips. You giggle, not expecting this silly gesture to make so many butterflies erupt in your stomach.

You really don't need him to act all lovely when you're about to suck him off. But you kind of enjoy it, you won't lie.

You focus back on his crotch, tugging down his boxers to free his cock from his briefs. It springs out instantly, so excited to see you, twitching vigorously.

"Happy to see me?" You grin, shifting yourself a little bit closer. You caress his whole erection with your hand, fingers parted as you go all the way up to his leaking tip.

Jungkook has this undying smile on his face while he looks down at you, his hand placed on your head. "You don't get enough of me, do you?" He responds by asking a different question, making you roll your eyes playfully.

"Never," you flirt, whispering slowly, a smirk tugging on your lips.

Arriving at his head, you wrap your hand around him, feeling how warm and engorged he is under your palm. You lean forward and direct the tip to your mouth, kissing it tenderly. You smear his pre-cum on your lips, licking them after, the taste of him lingering on your tongue.

"Shit," he curses, watching you do the filthiest things to him. "I'll never get enough of you either," he says under his breath, sounding like a promise and you know Jungkook sticks to his words.

You don't think it means much, so you lick the underside of him, starting to his balls and going up to his glistening tip. You finally take him in your mouth, lips enveloping his beautiful, bulbous head.

You gradually sink down, his hard cock entering your mouth inch by inch. You know he doesn't want you to take too much, himself being very aware that his size can sometimes be problematic, but you really don't care.

Your tongue rolling over his meaty length feels good, weighing down on your pink muscle while twitching avidly makes waves of heat go to your core, igniting a whole fire in your belly.

Jungkook deserves it, he deserves to get his cock sucked by you. Only by you.

You look up at him with teary eyes, holding the base of his cock with your right hand while the other lays on your lap. His gaze is already on you, observing how his fat cock fits in your little mouth, stretching it out at a point it hurts a bit.

You bat your eyelashes at him, gulping him whole until your nose touches the patch of hair on his pubis. "You're so fucking greedy," he rasps out and frowns his eyebrows, his fingers tangling in your hair. His knuckles turn slightly white at how tight he holds it.

You pull out til you only have his wet tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and eliciting cute, little groans from Jungkook. You sink down again, your lips smoothly sliding over his big cock since he's completely covered in your saliva.

You then start bobbing your head over him, just taking what you can in your mouth as you stroke the rest that can't fit. "Holy fuck," he curses, literally in heaven getting his dick sucked by the girl he's deeply attracted to.

You swallow, your throat contracting around him. You play with his balls a bit, gently fumbling them in your warm and soft palms. Jungkook sweetly moans, eyes fluttering shut as his head rolls back on his shoulders.

Your heart swells at the view, palpitating at how good he looks, veins pulsing out along his tattooed arm and shiny black bangs covering his forehead.

You eagerly bounce your head over his hard cock, only desiring to make him cum in your mouth, wanting to have his salty taste lingering on your tongue again.

You realize how much you missed that — him, his touch, his voice. If only you could admit it...

"Oh, baby," he sighs, eyelids slowly opening to look back at you, lips wrapped around his pulsing erection and spit dripping down your chin. "Feels so fucking good, I'm close..." He announces in a shaky voice, thighs flexing as he fights to not cum on the spot.

You love to hear that, proud of yourself for making him feel good. It's honestly the only thing you wish for right now; to be the one to take care of him — in a sexual way, but maybe, potentially also in a more meaningful way.

It's right when you thought you had him in control that he cups your face, one hand on each side of your head, and starts face fucking you. You're surprised, but your pussy is literally mewling, loving how Jungkook isn't scared to manhandle you.

You relax your jaw and lay your palms down on his thighs, feeling how tense his muscles are. You let him use you like he wants, thrusting his cock in your mouth as if you're just a sex toy; a fleshlight for him to use.

You gag around him, but he doesn't stop and you clearly don't want him to. More drool falls from the corners of your mouth, making a huge mess on you.

He thrusts in your mouth a last time before he steadies his hips, holding your head in place over his cock, nose brushing against his pelvis.

"Oh, fuck..." He moans, eyes strained down where your two bodies connect. "Mmmh." His erection twitches and he releases himself in the warmth of your mouth.

Ropes of cum spurt out of his swollen tip, tasting salty on your tongue. Jungkook lazily and slowly guides your head over his cock to milk himself dry, getting down from his high.

He then pulls out and you stick your tongue, eagerly waiting for more. He squeezes his dick, little white beads falling on your awaiting pink muscle. He groans, finding your obsession with his cum quite arousing.

He lewdly taps the head of his cock on your wet tongue, circling your lips with it when you purses them out. He spreads some of his cum on them and you can't help but kiss his beautiful tip as if to say thank you.

You giggle after, licking your lips clean. You get up on your feet, rearranging your hair since Jungkook pretty much ruined them by gripping them tightly earlier. He stuffs himself back in his shorts, pulling up the zipper.

You expect him to leave, but he stays in front of you instead.

"There's a party tomorrow night," he begins a bit shyly, looking away from your face and your raised eyebrows. "Was wondering if you'd come with me," he suggests, a smile tugging on his pink lips.

That's not something you thought he'd ever ask you, but it doesn't displease you at all. It sounds fun going to a party with him. Doing something normal, hanging out and just being yourselves.

"Uh, yeah, okay," you smile back, accepting his proposition.

He nods his head at your response. "Great, well, call me tomorrow when you're ready. I'll pick you up."

"I'll do that," you chuckle.

He doesn't seem to want to leave and even though you kind of don't want him to either, he can't stay in your room longer. So you gently push him back to the door, opening it to let him go.

"Please," he says before you can kick him out. "Promise me?"

You feel bad a tad bit, remembering what you did the last time he asked you to call him. But you know you won't do that again.

"I promise," you confirm, looking into his eyes. He grins, satisfied by your answer and leans in to steal you a kiss. You push on his chest, laughing as he whines from the loss of your lips against him. "Go, now."

So he does, reluctantly, but he's confident you won't ghost him this time.

·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡

"Yes, yes, please, more," you beg in the crook of Jungkook's neck, your breath tickling his smooth skin.

He circles your entrance with the tip of his cock, turning you crazy and making you mewl loudly. Your arms are wrapped around his strong shoulders, your crop-top just pulled over your chest to free your boobs.

Your moans are very loud and it's evident that anyone passing by will easily guess what you two are doing in Jungkook's car. The windows are fogged up and many traces of hands are visible.

There's not a lot of place in the vehicle, but you work with it, too horny to just get in the back or wait to get home to finally fuck. He consumes you entirely and your brain can't think properly about anything. All you can think about is the head of his dick entering and exiting your quivering hole.

"Yeah? Like that?" He groans, holding his cock at the base and moving it in circles inside of you.

It stimulates so many nerves at the entrance of your pussy, your eyes rolling back in your skull. You move your hips up and down as well, just a bit so his tip can stretch you out and tease your wet cunt.

"Yes! Fuck, Kook," you whimper, his free hand groping one of your asscheeks, making it bounce.

You lean on his large shoulders, nails digging into the flesh of his back, leaving red marks and crescent forms behind. Your tits are squished against his chest, your hardened nipples brushing against the material of his white t-shirt.

You won't lie that you're a little bit tipsy, but you're sober enough to feel the pad of his fingers sinking into the fat of your hips, holding them up tightly over his hard cock.

Jungkook's pupils are blown out you notice and his eyes don't leave your face, just shifting down to your pussy occasionally. Most of the time, he's staring at you, telling himself how irresistible you are and how fucking hot it is to hear you scream his name.

After some time, you decide to sit down, slowly sinking his cock into your soppy pussy. You gasp when his whole length is deeply nestled in you, walls clasping around him repeatedly.

"Oh, god," Jungkook sighs, throwing his head back against the car seat. "You're so fucking tight," he grits his teeth, gripping your hips and guiding them on his lap.

You whine weakly in response, throwing your own head back and showing a clearer view of your breasts to Jungkook. He has your chest right in his face and he moans at the sight, diving his face in your chest.

You pass your fingers through his hair, gripping at his roots as he flicks his tongue over your pebbled nipple. He wraps his lips around your sensitive bud and sucks on it gently while you grind your hips on him.

You move back and forth, the head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot so deliciously. So many moans escape your mouth and you only realize now how vocal you are. Truthfully, you know the alcohol has a big influence on you, but you're usually not very loud.

Not a lot of men have made you scream like that before and the fact that Jungkook effortlessly elicits so many moans out of you is so hot.

Your pleasure has such a tight hold over you that you don't think about anything else than Jungkook and his cock thrusting in your pussy. You're like in a trance until knocks on the car's window pop your bubble.

You jump out of surprise, halting the movements of your hips and anxiously looking at Jungkook. The knocks resonate a second time against the window and he has no other choice than to roll it down.

You're still on Jungkook's lap as you both look outside, the head of a guy peeking through the small gap between the window and the car. You frown and cover your breasts with your forearm, confused as to who this person is.

"Tae...?" Jungkook croaks out, squinting his eyes to better see the man outside.

"I want to get the fuck out of here," the guy explains, taking a sip of the beer bottle he's holding. "You owe me a ride." His gaze stays on Jungkook as silence settles between you three until he diverts it to you. "And someone's looking for her."

"What?" You breathe out, frowning even more. "Who?"

"Don't know," he shrugs. "But he looks and sounds like a rich asshole."

You feel a lump in your stomach as you have an idea on who could be looking for you. If it's really who you think it is, then that means the rest of your night is totally ruined.

You roll over to the passenger seat and pull down your crop-top. You wince as you feel your wetness sticking to your inner thighs. You look for your panties, but remember Jungkook hid them in the pocket of his baggy jeans.

"You okay?" He asks his friend, genuinely worried and it should endear you, but right now is not the time to have a deep conversation about their feelings.

You groan out of frustration and perch yourself over Jungkook's body to reach the button to roll the window back up. He doesn't protest and you pull your panties out of his pocket.

You both are quiet as he stuffs his cock back in his boxers, zipping his pants and buttoning them back. You pass your feet through the holes of your underwear and squirm around to slide it back up your legs.

"Who is it?" He breaks the silence, his big eyes meeting your guilty ones.

Leaving him to join another guy. That's really not what you want to do, you want to stay with him, but it's not like you have a choice.

"A friend..." You trail off, unsure if you really can call him a friend. "I'm sorry, I'll... I'll see you, okay?"

He only nods his head, nibbling on his bottom lip. You pout and you can't help but bring him for a kiss. He reciprocates it, but you feel like he's not really convinced. When you pull back you look at him one last time before exiting the car.

·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡

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a.n.: we stop here because i want the next part to be in jk's pov. i don't plan on having part 4 out before october/november since i'll be working on something else. so don't ask when i'll post, i've just told you!! if you don't like drama and only want the story to revolve around jk, then you should stop reading now because it's gonna be like that next.

part 1: call me later ☼ part 2: call me soon ☾ part 3: call me tomorrow ☼

#bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook imagines #jungkook fanfic #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic

[mellowwillowy]

𝐃𝐮𝐦𝐛 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐬 NSFW

⤷ Synopsis: Your boyfriend loves it when you show him that stupid face of yours, cum drunk as he fucks you raw nonstop, and perhaps the imaginary love that forms in your gaze.

⤷ warnings — hints of manipulative behavior, oral receiving and giving, overstimulation, GN

Yan! Boyfriend is the nicest boyfriend you will ever have! He is a prodigy so he is naturally great in everything that will help you, including fucking you dumb until you feel like nothing but his cocksleeve.

"You like it when I angle my hips this way right?" Your boyfriend teased you as he rammed your insides, his tip hitting that one spot at a steady pace. You could not bring yourself to word an answer, all you could do was to be vocal with your moans.

"Pukuku, you really are adorable," Blue licked your tear-stained cheek upward, tasting the saltiness in your tears, "fucked dumb now? I still have a lot stored in me." You did not doubt his words, this was nothing but a 1/3 of what he could really do to you.

You complained, arms flailing around to push him off from you, legs thrashing against him and mouth blurting out curses at him. He just wouldn't budge, if anything, his erection did not soften up despite the ejaculation he had earlier inside of you.

"Still have shit tons of cum unloaded for you hun. Don't pass out on me just yet." He flashed you a toothy grin as he mouthed your breast, sucking it like a baby. His teeth occasionally grazed your perked-up nipples while his tongue circled your areola. "My favorite milkers, aren't you?"

He started out slow and steady again, his hand feeling your throbbing sex again, offering you another relish of pleasure as your body still trembled from your previous orgasm. "Hmm~ always ready for me to take you aren’t you?" He pulled himself out and shifted his mouth into your sex, tongue working itself skillfully, fingers squelching inside your cum-filled hole. He relishes in how your thighs squeezed his face, hips still instinctively bucking toward his face, "There there, eager aren't you?" he spreaded your thigh open with one of his hands, "Patience, love."

Your arousal was built to the brim again, evident by how you were squirming beneath him, your consciousness at his mercy now. "Ohh, it must have felt so good, to have my tongue edging you to the point you are brimming with tears honey!" You were not sure whether he was demeaning you or being attentive, he had always been an enigma in your eyes.

Even so, you managed to question him, "Is that, khk- s'posed to b-be degrading me?" Blue looked at you doe-eyed, cocking his head to the side, "You think so dear?" Was that supposed to guilt trip you again? You clenched your jaw as you tried to contain your moans, unbothered to answer him. It didn't go unnoticed as he started to pick up his pace, fingers, and tongue diligently working even harder to coax more noises out of you. You have always had the best voice in his opinion after all. "Pretty things with pretty voices shouldn't be this silent yeah?"

You could hear how he might actually slurp your bodily fluids like a thirsty beast, "Cum" His fingers pumped in and out of your hole fast and steady now, "Come on, cum for me yeah?" God, just how was he so skillful with his mouth and hand? Blue's attack did not falter, at least not until he had you creamed in his mouth, swallowing everything you had for him in a large gulp. The way his Adam's apple bobbed was so arousing to watch, especially how your fluid was all over his lip. Blue dragged his finger and tongue to make sure none of it go to waste, sucking his cum-coated fingers clean.

"Tasty aren't you? You are just so addicting honey." His eyes watched your panting figure, overstimulated again after rounds of orgasms. You wanted to spit at his words, to do just anything. You tapped your lip, "Mouth," Blue raised one of his eyebrows, "I want a taste of you, hun." Blue smirked, his pearl-white teeth visible as he gave his cock a few pumps before lining it in front of your lip, "You sure honey? I might rut into your mouth like a rabbit in heat."

You grinned at him, "Anything for my bunny in heat."

You knew oral would not be enough to save you from another round of being pounded raw but at the very least you could have a taste of what was overflowing inside you ♥

#Blue the Boyfriend #LIfE Project #yandere male #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #male yandere #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere headcanons #yandere works #yandere smut #yandere writing #reader insert #x reader #oc #x gn reader

[writingsbychlo]

LAST TIME | tom riddle

summary; things just aren’t right between you and tom. when you suggest a break up, however, tom is ready do anything to make it work.

word count; 4153

notes; honestly pure smut. I say tom is willing to do anything but what tom does is just give some really good orgasms. and somehow, it’s still better than 90% of men out there, so.

“You… want to break up?” The clock in the room seemed to tick louder than ever, the seconds dragging on longer and longer as Tom stared at you in disbelief. There was a bottle open between you, two glasses of whiskey poured but neither of them touched, as he stared in shock. “Why?”

“Because this isn’t working, Tom.”

He picked up his glass now, taking a heavy gulp from it, his brows furrowing as his throat bobbed, until only the empty Crystal was back on the table. He filled it up again. 

“Tom—”

“Just let me think for a second.” You sighed, his gaze flickering over to you, and he softened for just a moment. “I’m trying to work out what to say.”

“There is nothing to say—”

“There has to be!” He slammed an open palm down on the wood, the table rattling and your drink shaking in its glass, his mumbled apology belaying his regret as he glared. At you, at the wall, at the clock still loudly tickling the seconds by. “Why?”

“Because this isn’t—”

“Don’t say this isn’t working. It works perfectly for me, so if it’s not working for you, tell me why. Tell me what I did, what I can do.” You reached for your own glass now, sliding it across the table and taking down the contents in one. Pushing the empty glass toward him with one finger as your throat burned, he filled it up, cupping your hand and pressing the glass into the other. “We fight all the time, I get that. But you love the fight, I know you do. But you’ve never—you yell, I shout, we fuck it out and we’re fine. This isn’t right, you don’t sit here calmly and tell me you want to break up, so tell me what to do.”

“I can’t tell you, Tom. I don’t know. I just know I can’t do this anymore.”

“But why?”

Exasperation burned through your veins, the words ‘It’s not working’ sitting on the tip of your tongue, and you had to bite it to stop them from coming free. 

“I want to work through it. I want you to tell me every goddamn little thing that’s wrong. We’re not leaving this room until it’s right, do you understand me?” His fingers curled on the tabletop, a fist forming, nails no doubt digging into his palms, and you sighed. He may be making it sound like demands, but you both knew it was a question, a desperate plea not to give up on him. The kind of desperation you’d never heard from him before, and it was the only thing that made you stay. “Please.”

“I’ll stay, Tom. I’ll talk, but I make no promises, because I just don’t see this working out.”

“I’ll make it work.” There was so much conviction in his tone that you almost found yourself believing it. “First issue.”

“Tom—”

“First issue.” He insisted, and you ran a hand down your face. 

“Okay, fine.”

And just like that, the night melted away. Hours slipped by in a blur of petty arguments, Tom’s eyes boring into your own as he fought and conceded, edging closer and closer to you throughout the night. 

You resisted for only so long, the first drink gave you the confidence to tell him that you needed more. His cold attention wasn’t enough, you needed love and passion, you needed his vulnerability and his emotions, you needed his trust and his confidence to take down those walls. 

The second drink gave you to confidence to yell, shouting about the kisses he denied you in public, the affections you dreamed of that he never delivered, the activities he got up to that he’d never tell you about. The friends he kept a secret. The times he’d disappear from you for days only to reappear with no word, yet demand to be a part of every single aspect of your life. 

The third brought you closer, barely resisting his advances as you fought tears, fought anger, fought every overwhelming emotion that was almost spilling out. 

The fourth brought peace. The fourth brought silence, whispered promises you were inclined to believe, as he all but crawled and knelt. He begged for forgiveness, a sight never before seen for Tom Riddle, when your stubbornness reared a new, alcohol-filled strength, urging you towards the door to leave him behind. 

The fifth brought solace and warmth. The fifth brought the end of the argument. 

The firewhiskey was almost gone, a comfort flooding through both of your bodies enough to loosen your lips beyond the hesitation you both held, and you knew if you drank anymore, all progress would be lost. Swiping up the bottle from the table and putting the stopper back in, you took it towards the shelf, feeling Tom’s eyes track your every movement through his dorm. 

You placed it back within the cabinet, its rightful place between the other vintage bottles, displayed proudly like it wasn’t contraband to be hidden, his arrogance never more prominent. For some reason, you loved that. It had always been one of the things that had attracted you to him, his intelligence, his confidence, his sexy self-assuredness, but it just wasn’t enough anymore. 

As you slowly walked back toward your seat, Tom’s calloused hand wrapped around your wrist, bringing you to a halt by his chair. Another soft tug, and he was bringing you down across his lap, arm snaking around your waist to hold you close to his chest. 

“Tom…”

“Babydoll…” His whisper was lost to the air between you, a space that was closing as he leaned in. Slowly, slowly, giving you time to pull away, but you couldn't. Everything about him was your weakness, you’d never been able to leave him, not since the day you met him all those years ago, and you’d never be able to leave him now. “Let me back in. Love me again.”

“I do still love you, Tommy.”

“Then let it be enough. Trust that I’ll do whatever it takes.” His lips met your cheek, suddenly, firmly, over far too quickly as he rested his head on your own. “I know I’m hard to love, but if you do love me too, then please trust me.” 

Another kiss, your hand cupping his jaw, a whimper slipping free as he pulled back again. 

“Have some faith in me.” 

Another kiss.

“Don’t leave me.”

“Kiss me, Tommy.” You sighed, tugging him forward and crashing your lips against his. He didn’t hold back, mouth slanting with your own as he sat up in the chair, holding you tighter to his body. His mouth was insistent, forceful and commanding just like every other part of him, lips coaxing your own apart until you were panting softly into his mouth, his tongue slipping through to tease your own. 

He tasted of whiskey, faint traces of coffee and sugar, a heady mix that you were drowning in. His hands traced slowly across your body, dragging and gripping, tracing like he was trying to memorise you, in case it was the last time he ever got the chance. 

You wanted more, you needed more, hands in his hair, messing up all those pretty curls and tugging him closer as you tried to twist in his lap. Unsuccessful, your legs still dangling over one of his as you sat sideways, a whine slipping free. To get more you’d have to stand, your hand raking seductively down his chest, nails scratching through the fabric of his shirt. You stood, or tried to, barely making it onto shaking feet before he was nipping at your lip with a cut-off grunt and tugging you right back into his body. 

In one swift moment he was standing, cradling you sideways in his arms and carrying you across the room. A second later, you were lay on the bed, head pillowed by the quilts as he finally pulled back. 

Those hands kept exploring, knees bracketing your body as he pushed your shirt up, up, up. He kissed at every newly exposed patch of skin, all across your stomach and over your breasts, reverent and tender, tongue swiping across your skin until you shivered, lips promising his love into your flesh. Until, you were sat up, slipping the top over your arms and letting him cast it away to the floor, his mouth working across your jaw, head tipped back to let him. 

Your own hands went to his back, scratching down until you caught the hem, far less care and far more desperation as you yanked and tugged, pulling at the shirt until he was reaching behind his head to help you strip him of it, your fingertips falling back to the bare skin of his chest. Firm, warm muscles twitched under your touch, your back hitting the bed again as his mouth collided with your own, backed into the sheets and surrounded by every inch of him, his presence filling the room, filling the air you breathed. 

“Tom…”

His grip shifted, one hand leaving the bedding to skim across your hip, under your body to the flat of your back, and lower. Cupping your arse he lifted your hips, just enough to slot himself between, and oh, delicious pleasure as his hips rocked into your own. Straining through the thick denim of his jeans, Tom pressed his hard cock into you, dragging every torturously clothed inch over your damp centre, ruined panties catching on the material and twisting, making it all the more thrilling. 

He did it again, and again, your bodies rolling together, clothes the only barrier keeping you apart as his mouth claimed your own. Moans and whimpers bounced off of every wall, each deep, grunted sound he let out was like a high, ricocheting along your body and making your head spin. 

“Fucking hell, babydoll,” His words were choked out, foreheads slick where they pressed together, panting breaths washing over your cheeks as he kept you moving against him, even as you became weak, even as the pleasure made you tremble, nearing that precipice already. “You’d walk away from this? Don’t you feel the way I do? You’re in my blood like a goddamn drug.”

Then, it was all ripped away, a pathetic wail falling from you as hot pleasure became cold disappointment, your hips dropped back to the bed. One of your shaking hands was cupped in his own as he pulled away, enough to sit up, kneeling between your spread thighs and dragging your hand to his chest. 

Under solid muscle, his heart pounded, fast and irregular, beating like a drum. “For you, alright? This beats for you, and you alone.”

Like a knife through the tension, the haze was severed, a refreshing touch of cold on your sex-addled mind. Climbing up, into his lap as his hands gripped your hips, your own reached for his face, tugging him into the most tender and loving kiss you could muster in the heat of the moment. 

His tongue slides over your own, your nails rake down his chest as you settle into his lap where he kneels, both of his hands kneading your ass. He shudders, your fingers grazing along the defined lines of his abs, and his breathing starts to shallow as your fingers press along the bulge in his jeans. 

Bucking up, his lips stop working your own, letting you take control of the kiss as his strength starts to wane, your teasing touches along his cock making him squirm underneath you. Squeezing him through the denim, he moans into your mouth, loud and unashamed, and your smirk makes him bite at your lower lip until you gasp. 

“I’m— fuck, I’m really trying to be romantic here, to make love to you, take it slow. You’re making that real fuckin’ hard for me.”

“I can feel how hard I’m making it for you, Tommy.”

It was unfair, perhaps, to taunt him so much when he was only doing what you’d asked, to show his affection rather than just assume you knew, to love you properly, but that's not what you wanted right now. Right now, as you’d stared him in the eye and faced the possibility of losing him, you just wanted him, in his rawest form. 

“Tom, baby—”

“Stop teasing me.” He all but growled the words, hips rolling into your palm now as you squeezed with rhythm, one of his hands slipping beneath the layers of your clothes, sliding over your ass from behind until one fingertip circled your dripping entrance. “Stop teasing me, or you won’t come for hours, do you hear me? I’ll make you cry and beg and scream, I’ll drive you to the edge of your goddamn sanity the way you make me, and maybe I won’t even let you come then.”

With those final words, he plunged a single digit inside of you, your back arching against his chest as he hummed, lips tearing apart as your body bowed to his. Pumping slowly, he left peppered kisses along your exposed collarbones, his other hand trailing teasingly up your spine, undoing the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers. 

Jerking it free from your body shakily, he let out a primal noise as you threw it away, lips wrapping around one nipple, teeth tugging the taut bud. 

“Oh, fuck, Tommy…”

“That’s right, doll. Moan my fucking name.” He did it again, a second finger slipping inside of you, chasing out every sentient thought you had. 

Your fingers were shaking as you reached for his jeans, tugging at the button and zipper until you could get them down. Finally, you pulled him free from the confines, and relished in the sound he made against your skin as you swept your thumb over the dripping head of his cock. 

Sitting there, half in his lap as he finally brought you closer and closer to your ruined orgasm, you pumped his cock slowly, nuzzling your nose against his own, feeling the beat of his heart against your hand on his neck. Steady, thumping, a beat just for you as he promised. 

His skin was wet under your touch, hot and soft and slick, your fist sliding over him, twisting just how you knew he liked. He may know your body like the back of his own hand, but you knew him too. You knew every trick that made him weak, every touch and spot that you could exploit to bring him to his knees before you, if you so wished. Tom Riddle may scare everyone away, may put on his façade to the world, but he was your lover, your heart and soul, and he bared himself to you alone in this vulnerability. 

Tracing your thumb over the head, you squeezed his cock, another bead of precum, dribbling from the slit and lubricating his skin under your palm. His mouth left your skin, head tilted back. Those pretty brown curls were already plastered to his forehead, sex and love hanging heavy in the hot air, and when your eyes locked with his half-lidded ones, you knew you weren’t going anywhere. 

Like a silent oath, one he could read in your gaze, he knew it too. It would never be so easy to leave, to walk away from him, from this. Things may need to change, but you’d work through them together, because you couldn't just leave him. 

Your lips slammed together once more, passion and promise, sealed between your mouths as he moaned your name against your tongue. 

It was just like that, with his body swearing his dedication into your flesh with every touch that you came, crying his name as you unravelled around his fingers, letting him whisper and coax you through it. Your body was shaking in his, leaning into him for support, his lips at your temple. 

“Was that good, doll?”

“So good, Tommy.” Your breathless bliss was short-lived, before you could process it, he was pushing you backwards one hand on your chest firmly pressing you into the sheets, and a smirk on his lips as he looked down at you. 

“Good, it’s only getting better from here.”

His movements showed no gentleness as he tore at the rest of your clothing, your body half dragged down the bed as he stripped you bare. Heat roared through your veins and a blush coated your cheeks, the same way it always did when he manhandled you in such ways. He stripped off his own clothes, nearly tearing the fabric from his body until he was as gloriously naked as you were, every inch of pale, scarred, perfect flesh exposed to you. 

His grip on your thighs was bruising as he pressed them apart, hardly giving your foggy mind a moment to process, giving your body no chance to truly settle, before he was on his stomach before you, tongue swiping up the evidence of the orgasm he’d just wrung from you in his lap. 

You jolted, one hand flying to his hair as the other gripped the sheets in your fingertips, a scream on your lips as he lapped the flat of his tongue across your sensitive clit. “Tom, oh, fuck!”

He moaned in response, the feeling buzzing across your skin as your hips ground up against his face, every part of your scrabbling for purchase as you sank into the pleasure of it. He went again and again, fingers gripping your thighs, holding them parted for him, before finally, he sucked your clit between his lips, and you sobbed out an attempt at his name. 

“Tom, fuck, fuck— I can’t—”

“Oh, let’s not lie, doll.” He pulled back, a sharp smack across your clit, a skittering pain that made you clench around nothing, so hard you swore you’d cramp, “We both know you can, and you will. You’ll come all night if I decide it. Now, be a good girl.”

“You’ll be the death of me, Tom Riddle.” Your words were stuttered out between heavy, panted breaths, and he chuckled as he resumed his work. The dark declarations of adoration were always something he had loved, especially when he had you on his tongue, driving you mad. 

Over and over he worked, kissing, licking, sucking, biting, until your eyes were rolled back in your head, writhing in the sheets, dripping just for him to lap it up, his name like a mantra, all you could think of. Your climax teetered on the brink, your hips rolled up unto his face, chasing with such wanton need that all shame went out of the window and your fingers twisted where they were buried in his dark hair. 

“Tom, I’m—”

“Gonna’ come? You there already, doll?” You would feel embarrassed for his taunts if you weren’t so needy, like a bitch in heat, and you just nodded. A whine slipped free as he pulled back, tears in your eyes threatening to come free as you were denied once again. The bed dipped, and before you could curse, before you could hate him for taking it all away again, his thick cock parted your folds, slamming into you in one quick thrust, and you exploded. 

His hips rocked, ever so gently, dragging out your orgasm until the flutters of it faded, leaving only blissful peace in its wake. Your hands hooked under his arms as he fisted the bedding on either side of your head, kisses left on your collarbones until your body finally calmed down, and he let his mouth trail up to your own, lips brushing. 

“You belong to me, do you understand that? Just like I belong to you.” His body shifted, hips rolling back, until he was barely inside of you anymore, only for a single, deep thrust to have you crying his name, digging your nails into his flesh, praying for anything. “I’m all yours.” 

Another thrust, another cry, scratches down his back that made him hiss in excitement. 

“I don’t care how I prove it to you, I’ll carve your name into my goddamn skin if I must, whatever it takes for you to see it.”

He kept it up, the deep pace, the meaningful words, all whispered into your ear as he sucked bruises into your skin, marking you as his the way he promised he’d mark himself too. Your love with him was brutal, it was harsh and sometimes cold, but nobody loved hotter than Tom did either. 

If you asked him to, there’s no line he wouldn't cross, nothing he wouldn't do for you, and his dedication showed. It showed in the way he fucked you, holding your gaze and stopping until you looked back to him, fighting the roll of your eyes to the back of your head, or the shaking of your body so hard you could barely breathe. It showed in the hand that slipped up your skin, fingers sealing around your throat as he began to lose control, fucking without sense as he chased his own high, your core squeezing around him so tight he could barely spit out his curses and praise before losing to the end too. 

It showed in the way he hugged your body to his, skin to skin, everywhere you touched as his release filled you, dripping and escaping around his cock as he fucked the both of you through the final moments of shared ecstasy. 

It showed in the way he collapsed down on top of you, all walls gone in these few moments, shaking as much as you were as his body smothered your own. Your hand in his damp hair, the other stroking up and down his back as he continued to whisper mindless adoration and poetic love in your skin, kisses and touches that made you understand his devoted worship. 

“Tommy…”

“Right here, doll. M’right here with you, I’m all yours.”

He lifted himself at last, balanced on one weak elbow to look at you, smiling in that way only you ever saw as you tentatively brushed plastered curls away from his forehead. He leaned in, a peck left to your lips before he pulled out, wincing apologetically at the grumble that left your lips as he did. 

“Let me get something to clean you up, alright? I’ll be back.” 

You knew he would, he always was, and only moments later, he was reappearing from the bathroom with a cold cloth, parting your thighs much more gently now, and wiping your sensitive skin clean. “We forgot protection.” You mumbled, one hand coming up to rub across your forehead, too tired to care much now but a problem for the morning. 

A problem he didn’t seem to appreciate, only smirking as he cleaned himself off, before pushing one hand over your stomach. “Maybe I should knock you up, I’d like to see you leave me then.”

“Tom!” His joke was not well received, even if his raspy laugh at your chastisement warmed your heart, your arm thrown over your eyes to block him out, to relish in peaceful darkness. The dirty cloth hit the floor somewhere with a squelch, another problem for the morning, as he tugged the covers out from under your body, collapsing down beside you a moment later and tugging them up over you both. 

Then, he was peeling your arm from your face, rolling your head to the side to look at him. Gone was the smile, gone was the laughter, a serious look on his face as he studied you carefully. 

Tom shuffled a little closer, delicately brushing hair from your brow before settling a hand along the curve of your waist. 

“I like it when your cheeks get all rosy after. You look so pretty when you're glowing, just for me.” Your scoff was cut short by his lips, tugging you in until your naked body was pressed back up to his own, that palm scraping over your soft skin to hook your thigh up over his hip, and your arm lay over his shoulders lazily. “Something is telling me this isn’t over. Tell me I’m right?”

“I love—.”

“Tell me you’re staying.” He knew you too well, his grip around your waist tightening holding you to him like he feared you’d slip away. “Don’t tell me you love me unless you plan to keep doing it.”

His gaze pierced into your own, face still like stone but worry painted in his eyes, and you nuzzled your nose against his own. He bumped back, once, insistently. “I love you, Tom.”

He sighed, heavy and happy and bumped your noses together once again. A small smile pulled on his lips, and he nodded slightly as his eyes fluttered closed. “I love you too.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, though. I’ll still make you work for it.”

“I’d expect nothing less from a future Riddle woman.”

#tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle/reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle/you #tom riddle x you smut #tom riddle x reader smut #tom riddle/you smut #tom riddle/reader smut #Harry Potter #slytherin boys

[ki-yomii]

hit the gym | jjk

➥ pairing | jeon jungkook x f!reader

➥ word count | 1.5k

➥ warning(s) | 🔞 smut; hair pulling, mild dirty talk, established relationship, oral (m receiving), mild body worship?, teasing, hints of exhibitionism/voyeurism

➥ summary | stopping now would ruin all the fun.

➥ notes | yes it's true, i would give jungkook the sloppiest of toppies ✌️also greysweat pants iykyk. a random short one, hope you enjoy 🩶

🩶 masterlist | inbox | AO3 🩶

“Baby.”

Jungkook’s never looked so undone; his eyes hooded and hungry, his mouth raw and red-bitten. Wants so, so badly he’s practically vibrating with it.

And yet, he’s still holding back.

The sound of his knuckles popping as his hands clench into fists beside his hips echoes through the otherwise empty gym. It’s almost kind of precious how much he’s struggling against the urge to throw you back against the wall.

To take, take, take until you’re nothing but a trembling, soaked, thoroughly fucked mess.

You hum in response, digging your nails into the nape of his neck to feel the little shiver that zips down his spine. "What's got you so worried, huh?"

The fact he still has the restraint to resist railing you right then and there - even though he clearly wants to - is so intensely hot you almost choke on your own spit. When his eyes cut to yours, you almost moan at how intensely he stares.

“I just,” he trails off, hands flexing as he catalogs the darkened wall of windows, the entryway, the open space, "I don't think this is a good idea."

Right now, you're the only two in the gym.

While that could change, it's edging closer to midnight.

After several months of joining Jungkook for his exercises, you've found most people aren't as eager to hit the machines at all hours of the day like he is.

The likelihood of getting caught is significantly low which works perfectly for you because it's a high payoff with half the associated risk.

You pretend to think, "Mm, no. I think it's a great idea." Palms dancing over his tense shoulders, you tease your fingers along the loose neck of his t-shirt. "Don't you?"

Jungkook bites off a curse, his body rolling up into your touch. He works his jaw as his teeth tug on his lip piercings. You know he's just itching to drag you into a darkened corner.

"I-I... really, baby, can't we just - y'know? Why does it have to be here?"

No amount of half-hearted protests hides how hard Jungkook is. Deciding to wear grey sweatpants today works against him, the soft cotton slung low on his hips and clinging to the thick line of his fat cock.

You raise a brow, glancing down at where he's digging into your hip, "You were saying, Kook?"

A perverse spark of pleasure lights up your spine at the way his eyes slide away from yours, his throat bobbing when he swallows and shies away.

"Sh-shut up..."

Serves the tease right.

You've had to watch him work out, disheveled and sweat-slick for hours. Hear him grunt and whine from the strain of lifting heavy weights. It's only fair he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Anyway, the thought of being so exposed (without actually getting caught) is kind of exhilarating. Gets your blood pumping and arousal pulsing through your body. A pool of liquid heat blooming low in your belly.

After watching him struggle a little longer between what he wants, and what he thinks he should do, you make his decision for him.

Only as soon as your hand slips past the elastic waistband, your breath stutters in your chest. Where you expect to feel soft cotton, there are miles of smooth skin. With wide eyes, you trace along a hipbone before sliding the tips of your fingers down to brush through a trimmed thatch of pubic hair, stopping once you feel the silken base of his cock.

Jungkook's eyes flutter shut, a full body jolt rocking him into you as his mouth drops open in a guttural moan. Tendrils of arousal coil between your thighs, your pussy throbbing when your fingers close around his bare shaft and he throbs against your warm palm.

If you’d have known he decided to go commando, you’d have been on your knees within the first ten minutes.

Chewing on your lip, you give him a few slow pumps, tightening your grip on the upstroke. The heavy weight of his shaft glides through the circle of your fist with ease.

Your thighs clench.

“What were you saying again, Kook? Cause it looks to me like you worry too much.”

He hisses through his teeth, burrowing his face into his shoulder. The tips of his ears burn bright pink, a creeping blush sinking deep into the apples of his cheeks.

Without waiting for a response, you tug his sweats down as you sink to your knees. His flushed cock springs out, curving up towards his belly with a wet smack.

“Haah - don’t!”

You laugh - a breathless, eager sound - as your hands pet his tense thighs, watching as fat drops of pre-cum ooze down the swollen head, sticky strings clinging to dusky skin.

Fuck, you can't wait to get your tongue on him; to feel the weight of him in your mouth, the tang of his skin, and the taste of his cum as he fucks into the circle of your lips.

To hear the absolutely delicious groans of masculine pleasure that shoot straight to your clit.

“How can you say that when you’re so wet and ready for me?”

“That’s cheating,” Jungkook groans, scrubbing a hand over his face. He peeks down at you through the gaps in his fingers, gulping at how pretty you look on your knees with his cock in your hand. “Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

You hum, eyes sparking mischief as you dip down to brush a kiss along the strap of muscle above his hipbone. The smell of his bodywash surrounds you, tickling your nose. “Yeah, but you love it, don’t you?”

The sight of him looming over you, his hair a tussled mess and a starved glint to his coffee-dark eyes, is a visceral sucker punch that has your heart stuttering and your mouth watering. Wanting to sink your teeth in.

“You know I do,” he mumbles.

Brought to the very edge of control, left teetering; you wonder how much further you have to push until he breaks.

A blooming warmth hooks into your belly, spreads down to settle between your thighs. The crotch of your shorts is soaked through, every shift of fabric dragging along your sensitive folds. A whisper of friction that drives you insane.

“Mm, now are you ready, baby?”

Taking his silence for the acquiescence it is, you dip down and run your tongue along the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. His cock bobs, a fresh bead of pre-cum welling to the surface.

Watching him from beneath your lashes with a coy smirk tugging at the corners of your mouth, you clean him up with a kittenish lick. Following the trails of salty arousal with your tongue.

Jungkook grunts - choked-off, wounded sound that punches its way out his chest.

You hum, and slide your hands up over his thighs. Stopping when palms rest against his abs, your nails dig in, drag down. The muscles clench, red welts developing in the wake of your touch.

Satisfaction warms your blood, Jungkook’s next breath is a low hiss as he stutters, rocks forward before catching himself with a murmured curse, “S-Shit…”

His fist pounds against the wall - once, twice, three times. His jaw works fast as he scrambles to regain his slipping control. You know what buttons to push and with every careful caress, every calculated hint of rough, his body sparks to life.

He’s almost there, you can see it; all his savage edges creeping in, pressing against his skin. You can’t wait. It’s always so explosive between the two of you when he gives in, allows himself to truly whet his appetite.

He tangles his hand in your hair, digging a thumb into your bottom lip to watch as your mouth stretches around him. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

The grit of his voice, dark and full of hunger cuts through you. You moan around a mouthful of him, eyes fluttering shut as your veins fill with liquid fire. Your thighs rub together for relief from the ache in your pussy.

It’s so difficult to tease him because more often than not, you want nothing more than to pull off and hop on. To let him ride you hard. Put you away wet and thoroughly used. 

But you can’t, not yet.

Stopping now will spoil all the fun.

Trying to distract yourself, you suckle on the head, roll your lips, and flick your tongue over the spongy flesh. When you dip into the slit, he whines, “Ohh..my god, oh ffuuh..ck yes.”

Those broad shoulders hunch forward over your head like he took a kick to the chest, a full-bodied shiver wracking his frame. He yanks on your hair and you clench in response, the little tremors in his thighs stroking your ego as you pop him out of your mouth.

“Mm, I think I do,” you purr, rubbing your tender, spit-slick lips along the shaft. “Now let me show you what you do to me.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fanfic

[anonymooseforever007]

Wanna Buy You A Drink

(Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: It's been five months since Bob's seen his wife, and aside from Natasha he had yet to mention her to his team. He calls it privacy, she jokes it's internalised possessiveness. But tonight, with Penny's help at the Hard Deck, more than one person is in for a surprise. After all, who doesn't love a good innuendo?

A/N- Hi y'all! No TWs I think, a good few innuendos and one joke about making babies but nothing actually happens. I've been trying to finish this one for a while and am very happy with how it turned out! P.S incase y'all didn't know the Thunderbirds are the US Air Force's professional flight team that does really amazing tricks and skills and the Blue Angels are the ones for the US Navy! Both groups are so amazing to see in person and I just wanted to make a little Navy Vs. Air Force rivalry joke about them!😊 Enjoy❤️

WC- 3.8k

Main Masterlist

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He didn't know you were coming.... or so soon at least.

The last time you had spoken to your husband was a few days ago while trying to find a flight to San Diego for next month. The two of you had texted of course, and you had even gotten a few awkwardly taken selfies of the man with the sunset behind him. Neither you nor your husband enjoyed having your photo taken, so seeing him take time to step out of his usual comfort zone was always touching. Besides, you would never tell him (nor would he tell you), but there was a growing album in your phone of sneakily taken photos, though blanket holes or around house walls when the other wasn't looking. These little albums you each had "hidden" helped the burden of the distance seem less harsh, especially in the times when Bob's job kept him farther way than usual.

Despite the top secret mission he had been sent on being completed, your husband was still assigned to say in the city for an undetermined amount of time. Evidently the higher ups decided they liked how well the crew had flown and wanted to keep them together. Tired of being alone and wanting to have a little fun in the Sunny City, you decided to make an early appearance. Luckily, you had already managed to find a job in the city that was just a different branch of where you worked before. They were also kind enough to give you a two weeks leave of your own to make the move and see your husband. Your husband knew you would to join at some point, only he thought you wouldn't be getting in until late next month. So he would be very surprised in a few hours when he found you at one of the navy's top aviator hangouts that night.

It was a bar called the Hard Deck. You remembered your husband mentioning it a few times through your communications, as where him and his fellow officers liked to go after a long day. A quick google search rendered a fruitful find, and ten minutes after getting your rental car, you were on your way. It barely 5:30 by the time your reached the bar, Aviators and Civilians alike had just begun to pour through the bar doors. But by 6:00 you were sure the place would be packed. So you quickly searched for a seat, always rubbing your right thumb over your left wrist to calm your nerves. 

In the centre of the building, a beautiful older beautiful woman moved around the main bar serving drinks with ease. 'Penny' you though to yourself, remembering Bob mentioning her a few times when the bar came up. Apparently in addition to running the bar she also had close connections to the the Top Gun program herself, namely with a certain Captain who helped lead the last Mission. You smiled to yourself as you saw the sign by the bar serving a warning to those who would disrespect women or the navy. Maybe this woman could help you with your fun. When it became your turn to order you smiled at Penny...

"Hi! I was actually hoping I could send a drink to someone else if that would be alright?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bob was tired. There was no particular reason why he was tired today, he just was. Training had gone smoothly and Hangman hadn't been too much of an pain either. All and All, today had actually been one of the least stressful days since he first arrived nearly five months ago. But for some reason Bob just felt off today, he chalked it up to having not spoken to you in a few days. Speaking to you always made him feel better, even when it was only for a few minutes. And having not seen you in person for five months made him long for something from you even more.

But these last few days had been busy, and then earlier today he had tried calling, but it hadn't gone through. This didn't worry him too much as he knew you occasionally turned your phone off during days when you really needed to focus on work. Though it was unusual for you to be working so late, seeing as your time zone was a few hours ahead of his and he called at 4:30 his time. Since the call didn't go though he decide that the "secret" photo album he had of you would have to suffice for now. Neither of you liked having your photo taken, but quick images taken half under the counter and while one slept always made the other smile.

He had been so busy looking at photos he almost didn't notice the group's nightly arrival to the Hard Deck until Phoenix nudged him. Giving him that half secret smile showing she knew what he was looking at. While the rest of the group (and even Maverick to a degree) thought Bob was incapable of talking to a woman without stuttering, Tasha knew otherwise. Bob hadn't even tried to hide it when she had asked why he seemed so fond of rubbing his right thumb over his sleeved left wrist night the group met. She had done it in private, of course, and only wondered if it was a nervous habit of her new WSO. And it was a habit....only not Bob's.

It was something you had always done even before you got married, a comforting repetitive habit that both you and your husband shared. But it also held a deeper meaning as it held the symbol your love. 

When the two of you first decided to get married a few years ago you hadn't gotten rings, or at least ones you'd wear on a daily basis. Both your jobs often required plenty of hands on work, and you had both been worried about losing the rings during the day. So instead, a cheaper pair of matching rings was bought and a new tradition was made. Each of you carried the other's ring in your wallet. That way, even when far apart you could have a piece of the other with you. And when the two of you met up face to face again you'd once more exchange rings. 

But even that wasn't all.

 The pair of you had wanted something more so you had decided to get matching tattoos. They were small and identical and despite almost breaking Bob's hand holding it while getting yours (from fear of needles) the small design was now one of your greatest comforts. On the inside of each of y'all's left wrist were two small stick figures holding hands on a paper airplane. At first glance it may have seems silly to any stranger passing by. But to you and Bob it was everything. 

Bob had been the one to draw stick "You" and you had drawn stick "Bob" with his little glasses. You had also drawn the paper airplane as stickmen were the extent of Bob's artistic skills. Besides, the paper plane you believed would be funny at the time. A memorial of how you two had first met in high school, when your paper plane had accidentally collided with his face instead of your friend's desk during class one day. You hadn't even known he wanted to be a pilot until months later, but when you did learn he was quick to comment how one day he'd be more than happy to take you up in a plane, as long as your weren't the one flying it again (he didn't think his face could take it). Years later you still found it funny and Bob would sometimes catch you laughing to yourself tracing the black lines on his wrist while lying in bed. A moment of peace before you two would have been parted again. Bob didn't regret what he did for a job, and neither did you, but that didn't stop you two from wishing to be together more. 

Again Tasha nudged him, breaking Bob out of his reverie before the pair headed into the crowded bar. It was just after 6:15 and already packed. Bob knew he'd rather head home and try calling you again, but he had also promised Fanboy one more pool rematch, since Hangman had busted into their last one. Luckily, even though the bar itself was crowded, the pool tables were open.

A few minutes into the game, Hangman and Coyote went to order a round of drinks and came back talking. Apparently there was some "Gorgeous Doll" (Jake's words) sitting at the bar and the pair of aviators were arguing over who'd get the chance to "woo" her first. 

Bob wasn't paying too much attention to their conversation or very interested in finding out more about this mystery woman. As far was he was concerned not even Dolly Parton could top your beauty and Bob would openly admit that he'd had a minor(ish) crush on the country singer since he was a kid. It had even become a running joke between your families, the battle for Bob's heart between you and Dolly. 

When he'd gotten his wisdom teeth out at 17, his mother told him someone had come to see him. Poor Bob about cried upon realising it was you instead of Mrs. Parton, his "Angel Voiced Beloved". Oh how you wish his brother still had that video tape, but unfortunately it had "mysteriously vanished" after Bob had overheard his sisters mention trying to get it for the wedding video. But more fortunately, the drugs wore off and soo enough he'd come back to his senses, and since that one night you'd been the only one for him. And luckily for him, he'd been the only one for you. 

So even if he was slightly curious to see which of his friends would attempt their flirtations, or which ones would fail, for now he didn't put too much thought into it. The quicker he won the game the quicker he could try calling you again. 

Soon enough Hangman was called back over to the bar to retrieve the group's drinks and they once again settled in to continue the game. Bob was once again winning, and Javy sat aside beginning to wish he hadn't placed such a bet tonight while Tasha and Callie were already making plans in their heads for what to do with their prize money. The only ball Bob had left to hit was the eight ball, and thanks to a lucky slip on Fanboy's part, it was a shot as perfect as it was easy. 

Javy cursed under his breath while Tasha and Callie high-fived, and Rooster cheered raising his glass up almost dumping his drink on Jake's head. Fanboy hung his head in defeat while Bob just grinned. Bob wasn't a bragging man but he still did like to win...a lot. The Squad may have thought of Bob as the quiet and passive WSO, but they had yet to see how competitive he could be when challenged. They had seen plenty of dog fights in the sky, but nothing compared to the vicious chaos between the Floyd family when it came to the annual gingerbread house competition. Under that sweet smile and those large glasses hid an overly excited man-child basking in his victory. Ok... so maybe it had been a good idea to come tonight. Bob couldn't wait to call his wife and tell her about his achievement. After all she was the one who taught him to play.

A few minutes later the group of aviators had settled down again and a new game started. This time Rooster was up against Maverick himself, which always proved to be a good show, full of sneaky cheating and playful jibes. Bob was sitting by Callie and Tasha taking his share of the winnings. It was only 6:30 now and he knew his night owl of a wife wouldn't be asleep for a few more hours so he decided to watch a few more games between his friends before calling a cab home. 

Hangman and Coyote were still debating over whose turn it was to talk to the new woman at the bar. Evidently, they'd noticed her reoccurring glances towards the squad during the first game and were sure she was interested in one of them two. And to drive their beliefs further, the glances had been accompanied by a playful smirk "directed" to the two men who'd placed themselves behind an oblivious Bob as them game went on. 

It was a few minutes later Penny walk up to the Aviators carrying a drink in her hand and smirk on her face. 

"Someone sent over a drink for one you lot," she said, at once turning the entire groups' attention towards her. After all who didn't like a free drink? Usually the drinks in question were for sent for Tasha or Callie, the only two women in the whole squad, but occasionally one of the other aviators would be the recipient. No one would forget the time Ruben got a drink from a 60 something year old women in a sparkly dress. And it appeared this would be one of those times. 

With a smirk on her face she turned, setting the colorful drink down saying,

"Lieutenant Bob Floyd someone wants you to have sex on the beach."

Aside from quite humming of ice machine and the clatter of Maverick's pool stick it seemed as if all the sound has been sucked out of the Hard Deck. As if Penny's words has been some wicked spell freezing, all the group's inhabitants where stood still. A little ways away from the group, a woman sat with a growing grin on her face as she watched everything unfold. Just as Bob opened his mouth, his face now a red as his wife's lipstick, Penny delivered the final 'blow'. 

"It's double strong too, so I'd say someone really wants you to have it."

Bob looked like a fish. A really cute six foot tall fish with military issued glasses but still a fish. His eyes were wide and his mouth kept opening slightly before closing as if the words in his head were fully composed of silent letters. If one were to look into Bob's head and read his mind they'd be able read the flurry of responses and polite refusals streaming through his brain. It wasn't the first time he'd been sent a drink, but that never stopped him from going speechless when it happened. Now Bob was a married man. A very happily married man, but he still had an awful habit of getting flustered anytime showed interest in him. It was something that Y/N took special pleasure in, and there were times they went out with friends when she'd pretend she didn't know him just so she could relentlessly flirt and turn him red. To be fair he'd also done it to her a few times, but she had a habit of taking any flirting he did as a challenge. And then, while their friends fake gagged and smirked behind their backs, the night would be filled with flirty winks and innuendos until someone gave in and "agreed" to take the other to "their place".....wait a mi....

"I hope you don't mind I took the liberty of getting you a refreshment. Thought you might have deserved it after that wonderful win." 

Bob was grinning like an idiot before he even finished turning his head to the approaching voice. He didn't get out of his seat though as his head fell back to the ceiling with a hand over his face as the last of the embarrassment left him. Turning his head back to the women he smiled again as he began to laugh. He turned his body more towards her and noticed the dress she was wearing. Damn he loved that dress. It was the one she wore when they had gotten engaged. Looking at her lips she appeared to have the same lipstick on too.

"I hate you."

Words said without malice, quite the oppose actually, brought another laugh to Y/N's lips as after months apart she finally got to stand in-front of her husband. Eyes never leaving her husband's, she places a hand over her heart and gave a dramatic gasp.

"Well that is the most heartbreaking news I've ever heard darling. You see I was so impressed with your skills earlier, I was ALL set to propose. See I even got you a ring," and with that Y/N pulled her left hand back from her chest and revealed Bob's ring which had been sitting in her wallet for months now. Well, aside from almost every day when she'd fidget with it in her hands while on the phone with him or just because she missed him. And a little farther up from her palm was a small tattoo of two tiny stick people holding hands on a paper plane. In the back ground, Phoenix let out a small sound of joy of her own as she finally understood what was happening. Quickly she leaned over and explained to Callie, who also started to laugh. The rest of the aviators still stood in shock, not sure what was going on. They only knew that for some reason Bob "Blushes at the word boobies" Floyd was getting the attention of one very pretty women, apparently because he could play pool. 

Bob only stared at her hand for a moment longer before he finally stood from his chair and wrapped the woman in front of him in his arms. Spinning her around once before kissing her cheek he pulled back.

"Well, I guess I'll have to rethink my words then ma'am. In fact, I think I got a ring right here that may fit your style," he replied grinning as he pulled Y/N's ring out of his own pocket and wallet with a practiced ease done many times before. "You'll have to forgive me for not kneeling to do it now, I'll get my ass chewed out if I dirty this uniform," he joked looking down to the woman in his arms smiling back.

"It may not be typical or proper, but I certainly wouldn't want anything to happen to that lovely ass of yours....so I guess I'll accept," Y/N joked back, drawing out a few words for added affect, not really caring about the propriety of it just ecstatic to be with her other half again.

"PROPER?! I haven't seen you in five months and the first think you do is send someone to tell me you really want me to have sex on the beach. How's that's proper for ya! Not even a hello first," Bob laughed. As surprised as he was initially, he really did miss this little game of y'all's. It brought out a cheekier side of him his friends usually didn't see.

"Alrighty then," stepping back and picking up the drink in question with a smirk, Y/N raised it to her husband's eyesight, "Hello, Lieutenant Bob Floyd would you like to have sex on the beach?"

"Well I just don't know if that's something I can answer in public Mrs Floyd," he replied cheekily, still starting at his wife.

"MRS.FLOYD"

That was the collective statement from the remaining aviators as the couple was finally brought out of their own little world. Turing to face the company Bob stood with his arm around Y/N's waist proudly like a child at Christmas.

"Yeah, Mrs. Floyd. Been that way since I became the luckiest man on earth."

"And since I became the luckiest women. But all ah y'all are welcome to call me Y/N. Or you know... Mrs. Baby on Board. Though I guess we haven't gotten to that part yet, but, it has been five months after all."

Tasha followed, closely by Callie, was the first to approach as Rooster's pool stick fell to the table and Maverick started wacking a sputtering Jake on the back, after the latter choked on his drink with the final sentence. 

"Hi, I'm Natasha and this is Callie, callsigns Phoenix and Halo. I'm your husband's ..."

Before Natasha could even finish she was wrapped in a hug by Y/N.

"Ohh I know you!! Bobbie talks about you all the time! You're Black Widow! It's so nice to meet you!!"

"Black Widow," someone asked from the side, while Bob began to chuckle under his breath.

"Ohh right, sorry. I have a hard time with remembering names, so I like to make up helpful nicknames with Bob to remind me of who is who. Like Natasha is Black Widow because of Natasha Romanoff; and Callie is Catwoman because of Callico Cats; and there's also a Rocket Raccoon for whoever's Bradley; and I have a Peter Pan beca...."

"Yep I think they get it darling. No need to divulge all our secrets." Bob interrupted nervously, not quite wanting his team to know all his secrets yet. He'd also NEVER tell them that when you first learned about his job you'd compared him to the Thunderbirds. I mean the audacity of it all! Everyone knew the Blue Angles were superior! Those were some fighting words Bob assured you at the time. Callie and Tasha burst into grins, liking this more and more, while Y/N looked back a her husband with a fake look of innocence in her eyes. Meanwhile Penny, still with the group, wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes as Maverick gaped and Rooster got into a debate with Mickey if he was hotter than Bradley Cooper. Soon the laughter died down and Maverick stepped forward sticking out his hand.

"Well it sounds like you seem very good at giving callsigns of your own. Maybe we'll have to put you in charge of naming the new recruits Y/N. My callsign's Maverick but I'm guessing you know me as Peter Pan."

"Pleasure to meet you Maverick. I might just have to take you up in that offer. Heard a lot about you too. All of you in fact. I'm sorry for interrupting your game earlier, I've been waiting to do that for a long time. Your friend Penny was a brilliant help too." Y/N smiled and shook his hand. He had a welcoming smile that reminded her of her own father. She also sent a smile towards Penny who returned it with her own and took a step closer to Maverick. 

"No problem at all, it always nice to see couple's meeting again. I must admit the drink was a nice touch. Never seen an idea that creative yet." 

Stepping back towards her husband who put his waist around her once again, "Why thank you captain, I do suppose it's nice someone appreciates a good innuendo." Bob gave a small groan, but smiled as he buried his head into his wife's shoulder whispering how he did appreciate it and would show her how much later. Out of the corner of her eye Y/N caught a few more aviators still staring, though they seemed much less confused, now slowly settling in to of their quiet friend being married. "Though I believe there's a few more introduction left as well," She mentioned as she stepped towards the remaining group and shot a mischievous grin towards her husband, asking him a question without words.

"Oh just do it, they're gonna know eventually I guess," Bob laughed and looked at his wife with an equally mischievous look, finally taking a sip of his drink. After all, she'd probably let the names slip one day. This was going to be great. Hearing her next words, Jake choked on his drink again.

"Alrighty then. Which one of y'all boys is Statefarm?"

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagine #Bob Floyd imagine #Bob x reader #Robert Floyd #robert floyd x reader

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 10 || The Hallway Incident

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & fluff.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.2k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——THE GENTLE SOUND OF YOUR heel tapping against the ground due to the constant bobbing of your leg as your anxiety builds up inside can be heard beneath the sounds of Nanami and Toji engaging in conversation.

You've been waiting for about six minutes now, having watched every second of the nearby clock tick, and your nerves are all bundled up. In the time that they've been talking, you've mentally rehearsed a plan for yourself.

You're going to ask Toji for private lessons.

And no, not in a naughty kind of way. At least, not yet. But for the purpose of one, having an excuse to attend class with Gojo every Monday to really dedicate yourself to the lie you've given and two, to have one-on-one moments with Toji.

Is any of this going to work? Probably not.

The worst case scenario is that this all goes to shit and Toji rejects any advance you make at him, resulting in Gojo posting those videos of you. Great.

You draw your hand up to your face and begin to chew on your thumbnail as you wait, simply watching the two talk for a few more minutes until Nanami finally leaves.

When he does, you watch him walk away almost in a trance. He's got one hell of a back profile. Similar to Toji, the dress shirt that Nanami had did little to nothing to conceal the toned body that lay underneath.

You never used to undress people with your eyes like this before but then again, you never used to see this many attractive people at once.

The little trance you were in is broken when Toji suddenly snaps his fingers in front of your face, causing you to jump and turn your head to him. You hadn't even realized that he sat back down at his desk.

"S-Sorry Mr. Fushiguro." You apologize as you make eye contact with the man.

"You're fine," He says, his expression void of any real reaction to the way he saw you gawking at his student. "Now," Toji leans back in his chair, a slight creak heard as he does so, "Where were we?"

"Uhh..." You awkwardly straighten up in your seat, "I was telling you about the project I had for my sociology class."

"Right." He nods, "Well, I don't mind you coming to my class for a few weeks for this project of yours, just don't be a disruption."

"I won't sir." You hum.

The gentleness in your tone makes the older man shift in his seat a little. "Good. Anything else?" Toji questions, tipping his head to the side.

"W-Well, I was wondering if I could stay after the lecture as well."

"For?"

"Y'know, like, a more..." You look down at your lap. The eye contact was growing overwhelming. "In-depth lesson?"

The older man falls quiet for a second. Then, startling you, he chuckles at how fidgety and nervous you seem to be about your request. "You're not in any of my classes and yet you want a lesson from me? A private one at that?" He emphasizes.

You swallow hard and look back up at him, "Yes sir."

Toji folds his arms, the large muscles in his arms unintentionally bulging against the fabric of his shirt. "What is there for me to teach ya' privately that you wouldn't learn during the lectures?" He asks.

"Well..." Think, think, think, think, think.... "Students aren't the only people I have to study for this project. As a professor, you'd be a great example to use for how topics, such as economics, affect people in education." You manage.

He scoffs lightly, "So, basically, you want to study me after class?"

You wince a little at his words, "Study isn't really the word I'd use for it. Think of it more like an interview."

"An interview?"

You cross one of your legs over the other, "Yes sir."

He takes a long pause, simply staring at you in thought. Once he comes to a decision, Toji agrees with a nod and a shrug of his broad shoulders. "Alright. Every Monday then, I'll expect to see you during and after class. When's this little project of yours due?"

"Six weeks from now." That should be enough time for you to... seduce him, right?

Toji's eyebrows raise slightly, "Six weeks? Damn, must be some project."

"It's my final project, sir." You clarify.

He clicks his tongue and you watch the corner of his lips raise into a little smirk, "So your final grade will be riding on me then?"

Well technically you riding on him is more of the goal here but, there's no need for you to say that aloud.

You smile, "Yup."

"M'kay, cya next week then," Toji says dismissively. You give him a nod and both of you stand at the same time. He walks you over to his door and adds a simple, "I look forward to workin' with ya', kid."

His last word makes you halt. Slowly, you turn only your head back to him with a graceful smile on your face, "With all due respect, sir, I'm a grown woman. Please don't call me kid." You request.

With your head angled back to him, you notice that he's rather close to you. One of his hands was placed on his classroom door and the other was tucked into the pocket of his pants. His closeness causes whatever, obviously cheap, but rather pleasant-smelling cologne to run through your nose.

Toji tilts his head as he looks down at you, "Yes ma'am. My bad, it's a bit of a habit of mine."

The change in the way he addressed you has your heart feeling a little weird. It has to be that deep voice of his, the damn thing is intoxicating.

"You should get rid of it," You blurt out, referring to that habit of his.

An amused smirk spreads across his face. You didn't know it but, he found this one interaction with you slightly attractive. "I'll work on it." Toji hums casually.

You give him an approving nod and then turn away. His eyes follow you as you enter the mildly busy hallway and after you disappear from his sight, he sighs heavily.

You definitely made a decent first impression on him.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

As you rush down the hallway, you're lost in your head thinking about how you're going to pull this off for the next few weeks.

Subtly flirting and throwing small hints at him sound like your best options. Being straight up would be dangerous. You'll have to flirt and pretend like you aren't aware you're flirting-- 'innocently' making your way to what lies beneath his clothes.

You hope it works too. And while you're on that thought, you have to ask Gojo how difficult he thinks this will be for you. God, you hate that man. You don't want to talk to him about anything but you're forced to anyway-

You run right into someone in the hallway.

A phone drops and the binders and books you held make contact with the floor. "Shit," You curse, instantly crouching down to pick up the fallen items.

The person you ran into crouches down too, "Sorry," They apologize, even though you both ran into each other.

You go for the phone and motion the device toward the person, raising your head from the fallen items and meeting a new pair of eyes.

Holy fucking shit. It's another one. Another guy from the list.

And this one is... Well, if not for you picking Geto, this guy would've been your next choice.

Deep sangria-colored irises peer into yours, the shade veering more into the brown spectrum, and oddly attractive eyebags circle the male's eyes. There's a dark black tattoo running across the bridge of his nose and his hair is styled up in two messy ponytails.

You think your heart skipped a beat as you made eye contact with him. Hell, maybe it skipped a few beats-- maybe it stopped working for a second.

His face alone was tantalizing. The man was attractive in a way that made you unable to pry your eyes off him.

You think you flinch when he leans closer to you and tilts his head in concern, "You alright?"

Dazed by his caring voice and mesmerizing eyes, you nod your head. "Y-Yeah." You sigh.

You watch as the man looks down at your lips for a second, then right back up to your eyes as if he didn't mean to glance. The two of you grab all of the fallen items and stand up in sync. You extend your hand out, holding his phone and trying to give it back to him.

"Sorry for running into you," He apologizes again while taking his phone from you.

In return, he hands one of the items of yours he picked up back to you. "You're fine, I should've been watching where I was going."

He shrugs it off and his eyes drop down to the floor for a second before he speaks, "Me too. Also, I like your shoes."

You mimic his motion and look down at your feet, almost as if you'd forgotten what you were wearing. "Thank you," You reply as you look back up to the man.

If there's one thing they all have in common aside from being hot, it's the fact that they're all taller than you. It's something you mentally note as this man stands in front of you.

You smile and make a gesture to his face, "Nice tatt." You compliment simply.

His lips curve into a slight smirk, "Thanks, I did it myself."

"Really?" Your brows raise in surprise.

"Yup."

"Fuck, that's cool. Did it hurt?" You ask curiously, unintentionally leaning forward a little to get a closer look.

He shrugs, "Nah, not really."

You examine it for a second, only growing more and more impressed. "It's like, a perfectly straight line. Are you an art major by any chance?"

"Graphic design." He clarifies, "What about you?"

You shrug casually, "Psycology."

The male's head tilts to the side as he peers down at you, you can tell he's impressed. "Shit, psycology?" His head cocks back a little and he smirks, "That's hot."

"Hot?" You blindly repeat, chuckling at him. "It's just the study of behavior and mind, nothing special honestly."

He scoffs, "I'm pretty sure it's much deeper than that."

"It is but, it's more confusing than hot." You argue.

Your conversation with him is oddly seamless. He's now grinning at you, "The fact that it's confusing and you're still choosing to study it makes it hot."

"So, are you calling me or the major itself hot?" You ask teasingly.

He shamelessly looks you up and down and licks his lips before saying, "Both." He hums.

Your face grows a little warm. "Thanks, you too."

"You think I'm hot?"

"No, I think your major's hot." You utter sarcastically.

He laughs, "Yeah? You think graphic design is hot?"

"Mhm." You hum, "I mean, yeah, you're attractive but when you add on the fact that you're an artist? That multiplies it."

"Really?"

"Yup."

"On that note, you wanna see some of my work?" The man offers surprisingly.

"Yes please." You say with excitement in your voice.

Talking with this man in the middle of the hallway was by far the most refreshing thing you'd experienced within the last six days.

He chuckles and his thumb swipes through his phone for a second. When he finds whatever it is he wants to show you, he motions for you to come closer to him and you do.

Standing by his side and leaning over toward his phone, you see beautiful images of dark-colored designs that are nearly impossible to put into one word.

His art looks like... himself? It's almost as though he put his whole aesthetic onto a piece of paper. You catch shades of black, purple, and red ink swirled together in multiple different designs.

"Holy shit," You breathe out.

He chuckles at your reaction, "I've had a bit of art block recently but uh..."

As he trails off, you turn your head to look at him and notice that your faces are closer than you expected. Neither of you move but the eye contact held is almost intimate.

His voice drops lower and his gaze is unwavering, "I think I just found my new muse."

Heat rushes to your face as you grow flustered. By no means was he referring to you, right?

"R-Really?" You stammer.

His gaze dips lower, focusing on the curve of your lips, "Yeah," He hums.

The two of you lose yourselves in each other's presence for a moment. You nearly forgot about... well, everything for a second.

The male was enamored by you. You were just some random girl he ran into and yet he couldn't take his eyes off you. As for you, well, it's simple to say that you were just as infatuated. His face was so close, so flawless, and yet so mysterious.

You clear your throat and both of you snap out of the little trance you'd been in. Then, the two of you turn away from each other, clearly equally flustered by the closeness and lack of words.

"U-Uhm, your art is b-beautiful by the way." You stutter, physically cringing at the way you're tripping over your words.

You haven't been this nervous in a long time. This is worse than Toji, worse than Geto, and even worse than Gojo. Your heart is a pounding mess and you feel like a high school girl with a crush all over again.

"Th-Thanks," The man beside you chokes out.

A sense of comfort washes over you as you realize you're not the only one whose nerves are bundled up.

He suddenly clears his throat, "Well uh, I should uhm, probably get going."

You turn to look at him, "Right. Sorry for running into you again."

"No, don't apologize. I'm actually glad you did." He says, avoiding looking you in the eyes but smiling a little bit.

"Think I can get your name before you go?" You question shyly.

His gaze meets your face, still looking everywhere except for your eyes. "Choso. Kamo Choso, but you can just call me Choso." He tells you.

You stick a hand out for him to shake and give him your name in return. As his hand meets yours, you notice the slight claminess of his palms-- he was sweating... how cute.

Again, he clears his throat. "Since we're exchanging names, can I get your number too? I doubt we'll run into each other much since we have two entirely different majors..." Choso requests.

You're quick to nod and it's in a matter of seconds that the two of you exchange contact information with one another.

"It was nice meeting you, Choso." You voice out softly.

He nods his head, "Yeah, it was nice meeting you too."

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Alright, so today was an absolute rollercoaster.

From that morning being all lovey-dovey with Gojo, to hating him all over again, to meeting his stupidly sexy professor, to catching a glimpse of the stoic blond, and all the way to having an airy almost whimsical conversation with Choso.

What a day.

Seriously, what a day. Talking to Choso was so different. It didn't feel like you were talking to a target, it didn't feel forced or uncomfortable. Talking to Choso was the most pleasant thing ever.

As you made your way off-campus, your head was in the clouds-- filled with thoughts of the mysteriously artistic man you just had a conversation with. He was different, you could feel it.

You find yourself smiling at the little still moment the two of you had, how innocent it was, and how comfortable you felt. There's a sudden thump in your heart that makes your thoughts freeze.

Shit, the one thing you're not supposed to be doing. The one unspoken rule you'd set for yourself. You're breaking it already. You hardly know the man and you're breaking the single stipulation you'd put on yourself.

No feelings.

It's a simple rule. A needed rule. You can't go around sleeping with different men and fall for one at the same time. That'll never work out.

Imagine the look of disgust on their face when they find out they were just a name you needed to cross off. Hell no, the last thing you want to do is fuck with anyone's heartstrings-- including your own.

But...

Choso was so-

No. Stop it. You think to yourself. You nearly thought the same things about Gojo and look where that got you? In no way can you come out of this situation happy with any of the men involved.

This is just a one-and-done situation. No special cases.

Your goal is to seduce not swoon.

That's all your purpose consists of-- being a little whore for Gojo Satoru. As annoying as it is to come to terms with, that's exactly what your job is here. Fuck people, get paid. Nothing more, and nothing less.

No one becomes the exception. Under no circumstances do you allow anyone to fall for you; nor do you fall for anyone.

The smiles, the laughs, the ticklish feeling you get in your chest-- it all needs to be fake. Those special and cherishable feelings need to forever remain fake.

The second any of those emotions transfer into something real, everything will go to shit.

No relationships.

No feelings.

No romance.

Just sex.

You need to lock those words into your brain for the remainder of this list. Relationships would ruin things, feelings complicate people, romance will never work out, and sex is the only thing you need to focus on achieving.

You're not Gojo so you don't have plans on manipulating people. You simply want to be freed of the grasp he has on you and the only way to do that is by completing this stupid list.

As you made your way home, you thought long and hard about who you would go for first based on the three new people you met.

Toji would be a slow process since you gave yourself six weeks to figure him out. Nanami is a walking question mark since you have literally nothing to go on. And Choso seems all too sweet for you to think about seducing him just yet.

Based on that, you decide that Toji will be your biggest focus for the time being-- unless you spontaneously run into one of the remaining two unidentified people on the list.

With that being the most unlikely thing to happen given how lucky you got today, you end up organizing the list in a journal of yours at home. You'll put them into your own order and check them off as you go.

Yeah, you'll get through this.

...Right?

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

#the f*ck list #the fuck list #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #naoya x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #nanami kento x reader #choso kamo x reader #kamiverse #kamiversee #smut fic #jjk smut #gojo smut #geto smut #choso smut #toji smut

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 34 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Without you at home, Bradley's big mouth is about to get him in trouble. As he counts down the hours until he can pick you up from the airport, you wrap up your trip to Maryland with a visit to your childhood home. However, you're not as smooth as you think you are. By the time you get back to San Diego, you are an absolute train wreck, and some secrets have been revealed.

Warnings: Swearing, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

On Thursday morning, Bradley got to work a little bit early. He just needed to make a tiny detour to one of the database computers. He really wasn't sure if you realized that you told him Commander Patterson's first name last night, or if you let it slip by accident, but now that he knew it, he just wanted to check him out.

Every trip you took to Annapolis turned into some sort of disaster at one point or another. He couldn't imagine you were out there looking for trouble, but it sure did find you in the form of Derek or Josh. You were the most capable person Bradley knew, but he loved and respected you enough to know that sometimes you needed a break. Right now, he just wanted to bring you back home and take care of every tiny need or want that you or the baby might have. He'd honestly fucking delight in that.

As soon as he logged into the system, Bradley typed in your full name, complete with Bradshaw hyphenated at the end. A second later, your image appeared on the screen complete with lovely smile and gorgeous eyes. "That's my Baby Girl," he muttered, still captivated by this photo of you. 

He forced his fingers back to the keyboard, but no results appeared when he looked for Derrick Patterson. He tried Paterson. Then he tried Derick. Then he tried Derek Patterson and saw the face of the asshole who made his wife cry over a steak dinner. Were you more emotional right now than perhaps you would usually be? Absolutely. But that was only because you were pregnant. As soon as you told him you had a positive pregnancy test, Bradley's number one concern in this world simply switched from his wife to his wife and his child. 

This guy looked like a real tool. Forty-four years old. Ranked up to Commander two years ago. Worked in a simulation lab. Had the same degrees from the Naval Academy that you earned. "Yeah, well I can guarantee you're not as smart as her, you motherfucker."

He took another minute to memorize what he saw there before logging out. Maybe he'd ask Maverick about him. Cyclone and Warlock would be good resources, too. Bradley just hated that he wasn't able to make you feel safe and comfortable at the moment, but as soon as he picked you up tomorrow, he'd take care of everything. 

When he started to head out to the tarmac, he literally ran into someone while he was adding steaks to the grocery list he saved in his phone. He didn't know how to cook a steak, but he'd get them just in case you were still in the mood for one. "Sorry," he muttered, not really looking up, too concerned with what else you might want.

"It's okay, Bradley."

Then he did look up into the dark eyes of Maria Wilson. "Hey," he said with a smile at your good friend. "I've been meaning to ask you... how's rooming with Bob going for you?"

"Great," she replied with a little shrug and a completely neutral expression. "He's clean and courteous, and I think the arrangement is going to work out really well." 

If he didn't know better, Bradley would have believed nothing was going on. She was that good. But he did know better. He wasn't going to do Bob dirty, so he just nodded and said, "I hope it does work out. I've always felt a little bad about stealing my wife away from you."

She just laughed and said, "Like we didn't all see that coming a mile away."

He wandered off with a grin on his face after he said goodbye. He was planning on making a few stops on the way home before Jake showed up to workout together later. Bradley just had to get through one more night and then you'd be back.

----------------------------

You were an idiot for eating two steaks and seventeen pounds of sides and then passing out for the night. Sure, at the time, it seemed like the best idea you'd ever had. Derek's porterhouse hit the fucking spot like nothing else. The potatoes were creamy and delectable. The brussels sprouts? A thing of beauty.

But Thursday morning, you were back to your normal routine of throwing up as soon as you got out of bed. "I get it, okay?" you gasped as you sprawled out on the bathroom floor. "I understand," you added, letting your hand settle on your belly. "You miss your Dad. Well guess what. I miss him, too. Now will you stop acting out if I promise to take you home tomorrow?"

A soft gurgle as your stomach started to settle was the response you got, and that was actually better than you could have hoped for. When you heard tapping on your hotel room door, you knew it was Cat, and you wanted to cry. You were wearing Bradley's UVA shirt and a pair of your ratty underwear and nothing else, and she'd just keep knocking until you answered. 

"I'm coming," you moaned, actually crawling most of the way there. You pulled yourself up and then cracked the door open a few inches, and you were met with Cat's appraising eyes. "Hi."

"I just wanted to know if you wanted to get breakfast with me," she said cautiously.

"No, I'm good, but thanks for asking." You tried to close the door, but her foot was immediately preventing that. 

"Are you sick?" she asked. "I can bring something back for you."

"No, I'm okay," you told her. Your stomach lurched, and your eyes went wide. You had about ten seconds to get rid of her and make it to the toilet. You didn't know what to do as saliva pooled at the back of your tongue. You started to gag as your eyes filled with tears. 

"Hey," she said softly. "If something's wrong, you can tell me."

But you shook your head and let go of the door, making a mad dash back into the bathroom. You barely made it to your knees in front of the toilet before you barfed again. "Why?" you moaned, wiping your mouth with toilet paper before rolling onto the bath mat which had become your best friend.

"Oh my god," Cat muttered as she walked right into your hotel room bathroom. She flushed the toilet and then turned to the sink and started to fill one of the disposable cups with water. "You're pregnant," she stated plainly. "You could have told me, you know. Congratulations, by the way."

As she knelt on the floor next to you, she helped you sit up. You accepted the cup from her and said, "It's just food poisoning." She blinked at you a few times, giving you no wiggle room to lie to her. "Fine," you admitted with a little smile, "I'm pregnant."

She ran the backs of her fingers along your forehead while you sipped the water. "How far along are you?"

"About nine or ten weeks," you whispered as you closed your eyes for a few beats. "I'm just really tired and really fucking sick. I felt good last night, but now I feel terrible again."

Cat took the empty cup from your hand and wrapped you up in a soft hug. "Thank you for holding it together for the presentation. Now you need to get back into bed."

You shook your head and said, "I need to get up and moving so I can go see my parents later."

"No," she said firmly, guiding you back to the bed. "You need to rest right now. You'll feel better if you do." 

Part of you wanted to make sure your suitcase was closed so she didn't see your vibrators, but mostly you didn't even care. She had a certain way about her that was calming you down, and as soon as you were in the bed, she tucked you in. You almost believed her when she told you that resting would help you feel better. 

"Where's your room key?" she asked once you were curled up on your side.

You let one hand sneak out from under the covers and pointed. "Next to the TV."

She patted your shoulder and promised she would be back soon, and then she was gone. You dozed on and off while your stomach gurgled, and you missed a few texts from Bradley. When Cat eventually opened your door and let herself in, you were actually feeling hungry. And that's when you noticed two bags and a cup carrier in her hands. 

Quietly, she set everything down on your nightstand including some orange juice that almost brought a tear to your eye. Somehow she knew that was what you needed when you didn't even know yourself. You sat up as she poked a hole in the lid and handed it to you, and you drank half of it down in one sip.

"You need to eat something," she whispered, taking the cup away again. "I got you a bagel with cream cheese, an egg sandwich, a few different kinds of donuts and a muffin."

You reached for the bagel, and she unwrapped it for you. "I'll pay you back," you rasped, but she shook her head.

"Don't worry about it. Just make the baby happy, and we're square," she replied as she sank down into the chair beside the bed.

But you were definitely going to worry about it. Money was very tight for Cat and Jeremiah, so you would have to figure out a way to make it even. She probably spent about forty bucks on all of this for you, and somehow she knew that a sesame seed bagel with cream cheese would go down as happily as the steaks did. You devoured the whole thing and then took some bites out of the egg and cheese sandwich before finishing the orange juice. 

Then you drank some of the hot tea as well and nibbled on a muffin, and you felt so much better. Cat asked you a few questions, but she didn't pry. "Bradley must be over the moon," she said softly with a sad smile. 

"Oh yeah," you told her, knowing that her ex-husband did not have a relationship with Jeremiah. "He dubbed the baby the chicken nugget." When she laughed, you added, "He's very excited to be a dad."

"He'll be a good one," she confirmed with a nod. "Now why don't you rest for a few more hours, and then I can drop you off at your parents' house so you don't have to drive."

"You don't have to do that."

"I'll drop you off and then go to the outlet mall. There are some things I want to get for Jer, and then I can pick you up again." She probably knew it wasn't a good idea to let you drive like this, and you were honestly kind of thankful that she offered.

"Alright." You fell asleep again as soon as she was gone.

--------------------------

When Bradley left work, it was blazing hot out, and he had his aviators on while he walked to the parking garage. It was already late as hell in Maryland, and he was a little afraid you had already left your parents and gone back to the hotel for the night. But your phone only rang briefly before you answered his FaceTime call.

"Bradley," you sighed, looking better than he'd seen you in weeks. "Here, say hi to everyone."

You turned your phone to reveal both of your parents along with Cat, sitting around the dining room table in the house where he was finally getting used to spending his holidays. They all greeted him warmly before your mom took the phone and asked him at least a dozen questions.

"Are you eating enough without her at home? How's work? How's Tramp? When can we come visit again, because she's not giving us a clear answer?"

She said nothing about the baby, so Bradley assumed you were holding yourself together well enough that it hadn't been mentioned. "I've been subsiding on cereal. Work is great. Tramp is great. I've been thinking about starting a project to expand the upstairs into another bedroom or two, so hopefully after that's finished, you and dad can stay as long as you want."

Bradley knew they would feel like a handful for him if they stayed at the house again, but that was only because he liked being alone with you. He really wanted to take a minute to talk to you privately, but your dad took the phone next so he could show off his latest painting project. When he finally got handed back to you, apparently it was time for you and Cat to head out. 

"I'll let you know when the flight leaves tomorrow," you told him. "Love you, Roo."

And that was it. With a deep sigh, he started up the red Bronco and headed to the store on his way home. He hated shopping in his uniform; he always got a bunch of looks from people, mostly women. He tried to make it quick, but it took him a little time to gather up steaks, potatoes, garlic, your favorite coffee, and all of the yellow flowers in the floral section. 

He barely had all of the food put away at home when Jake knocked twice on the front door before letting himself in the house. "It's like he fucking lives here," Bradley muttered to Tramp who had been waiting for his scoop of dinner before he ran to see Jeremiah.

"Hey, man," Jake called out. He had Cat's son tucked under one arm and some weird contraption under the other, and he was wearing gym clothes. "Did you just get home?"

"Yeah," Bradley replied, unable to keep himself from smiling when Jeremiah reached out for him. He took the little boy in his arms and told him, "I had to get some stuff for my wife. You remember her. She's your favorite babysitter. She read you some books while you fell asleep, because her voice is the sweetest thing in the world."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Angel made you soft, old man."

Bradley pointed to Jeremiah. "And this little thing made you soft, so you don't have a leg to stand on."

He just kind of shrugged in response and took the child back as he said, "Go get changed. I'll meet you in the garage."

As Jake disappeared through the sliding glass door, Bradley headed to the bedroom. He stripped out of his uniform and put on some shorts and a Top Gun shirt that was starting to fit a little snug across his biceps and chest again. This was a good sign, because he wanted to bulk up as much as possible. He'd be ready to haul the baby and all of the gear around so you didn't have to. 

His thoughts were on you and the baby. You. Baby. You. Baby. He couldn't wait until both of you were home tomorrow. When he walked out to the garage, he found Jake doing a few pushups while Jeremiah played with a stuffed tiger while he sat in some sort of portable crib.

"What is that thing?" Bradley asked as he reached for his lifting gloves. "A mini crib?"

Jake jumped to his feet as he said, "It's called a pack 'n play, but yeah, it's kind of a mini crib that folds up."

"Huh," he replied, eyeing it up so he could search online for that kind of thing later. "Looks handy. We're definitely going to need one of those."

Jake was frozen in place, eyes wide and jaw hanging open. "Is Angel pregnant? I knew her ass looked bigger." A grin curled along his lips, and that was when Bradley realized he had fucked up.

"Oh, shit," he muttered as his heart rate sped up and he started to sweat. You were going to be so upset. Your own parents didn't even know yet, but now Jake did, and it was all his fault.

"She's pregnant!" Jake practically shouted. "Congratulations, Rooster," he said, pulling Bradley into a hug and slapping him on the back. "You finally figured out which hole to put it in, huh?" he asked with an absolutely obnoxious grin.

Bradley glared at him. "Seriously. Nobody else knows about this yet. She might murder me if she finds out you know."

"I won't say shit about it," Jake promised, cuffing him on the shoulder before releasing him. "Damn, she must be excited. I know you both wanted this."

"Yeah," Bradley rasped, just knowing his face must be flushed pink. He ran his fingers through his hair. "I'm so fucking happy and scared and nervous, I can barely make it through a day without her here, you know?"

Jeremiah roared and held up the tiger for Bradley. He took it and made it roar back before pretending it was kissing Jeremiah all over his face. His laugh was infectious, and it left Bradley smiling. 

"Damn," Jake drawled. "I think you're ready for the parenting thing."

"I know I am," he replied, fixing him with a serious look. "I'm ready."

Jake sighed and nodded. "But you still have a lot to learn. Do you know about outlet covers?"

Bradley's eyes went wide. "No. What are those?"

"How about white noise to help a baby sleep? Do you know what a convertible car seat is?"

"No," Bradley whispered, "No, I don't."

Jake settled back onto the bench and reached for the barbell. "Spot for me, and I'll tell you everything I've learned."

------------------------

It was finally Friday morning, and Cat was knocking on your door with another round of food and orange juice before you were even out of bed. When you let her in, she set everything up on the nightstand while you went to use the bathroom, and you were pleasantly surprised that you didn't need to throw up while you were in there.

"Eat as much as you can," she told you. "I asked them to give you a late checkout, so you can stay here until noon, and then we'll head to the airport."

"You're a saint," you told her with a mouth full of bagel. "I owe you so much money for this, you have to let me pay you back."

She just shook her head. "I'll let you babysit Jer so Jake and I can go out one night. Assuming I'm still in a relationship after we get bad to San Diego later tonight."

"You will be," you told her as you sipped the orange juice. "Jake isn't stupid." You paused before you set the juice down in favor of a donut. "Well... he's kind of stupid, but not when it comes to this."

Cat reached into the bag for another donut. "Seriously, if he and Bernie can't figure their shit out, I'll pull the plug and never look at another man again."

"Sometimes they really aren't worth the aggravation," you remarked, thinking back to every guy you dated before Bradley. "But sometimes they surprise you."

She didn't say anything else as she finished her donut. Then she let you take a nap, and when you got up and got dressed, you felt pretty amazing. Your stomach was gurgling quietly, and you looked okay enough to skip the makeup today. 

You dragged your suitcase out into the hallway and texted Bradley, letting him know you were going to be heading to the airport soon, and he responded almost immediately. 

Bradley Rooster Bradshaw <3 <3 <3: i'll meet you in baggage claim sweetheart. i can't wait to have you and the nugget back home with me

You practically moaned, and also started tearing up as Cat met you in the hallway. "When willI I be normal again?" you whispered. "All I want to do is have rough, frequent sex with my husband, but every time I think about how sweet he is, I start crying."

She laughed and said, "You won't feel normal until about six months postpartum. Just have fun running that man ragged."

You nodded and wiped at your tears. "Where's our equipment bin?"

"Already in the car."

"You weren't supposed to move it alone! It's so heavy."

"And you shouldn't be carrying anything like that at all," she scolded, pushing you gently toward the elevators. "I took care of it. I'll take care of it all day, and I'll get your suitcase when we get to the airport, too."

You sobbed the whole way down in the elevator and most of the ride to the airport. When you said thank you, Cat told you to be quiet which made you smile and also cry more. You'd get Bradley to agree to watch Jeremiah for a whole weekend. It would give the two of you some practice, and it would give Cat and Jake time alone. There was no way he was going to mess anything up.

--------------------------

Bradley parked the red Bronco at the airport with a vase of flowers in the cup holder and an ultrasound picture tucked into the visor. Your flight had been delayed a few times, and he figured you were probably starving now. He picked up the container of peanut butter crackers he prepared and started to head inside, still a little too early but with nothing better to do.

He found an empty bench, and it wasn't long before Jake came strolling in with Jeremiah in his arms. Bradley stood up, jostling the snack container as he muttered, "You're not going to say anything to her, right?"

"Relax," Jake replied as Jeremiah reached for the crackers. "I won't say a word about her being pregnant. You can count on me."

That actually made him feel a lot more nervous as he opened up the container, broke a cracker in half and handed it to Jeremiah. "Okay. Just pretend you don't know a thing about it."

He watched Jeremiah get crumbs all over Jake's shirt as Jake checked his phone. "Sure. Hey, they landed. Cat said they're walking off the plane now."

Bradley checked his phone, but there was absolutely nothing from you, which was really strange. "Huh." He stood there awkwardly as he'd been left out of the loop, handing the other half of the cracker to Jeremiah when he reached for it. 

He watched Jake typing one handed, and then he said, "Apparently there was a ton of turbulence. Angel got pretty sick." When he met Bradley's eyes, he kind of shrugged. "Sounds like she's in bad shape."

Bradley ran his fingers through his hair until it was sticking up at an odd angle. "What's that supposed to mean? How is she in bad shape?" He looked over toward the partition that blocked off the area he wouldn't be able to get past without a boarding pass while he started to panic. Was he going to have to take you to the hospital or something? The cereal and potato chips he had for dinner started to sour in his stomach as he started walking in that direction. 

Then he saw you, and he started running. Cat had her arm around you, and she was carrying your tote bag along with her backpack while you sipped a can of ginger ale through a straw. Bradley could see fresh tears in your eyes as they met his. "Oh, Sweetheart."

"Roo," you croaked, and he closed the rest of the distance to you and carefully took you in his arms. "I was horrible."

Cat took the ginger ale from your hand, and you collapsed against him, a sobbing, shaking mess. "It's okay," he promised you. "You're home now, and I will take care of everything."

You nodded against his chest, and he let you cry. "I threw up so much. I was fine, but then it was really rough, and the baby hates me anyway." You cried harder, and then Jake was there with Jeremiah. He took the container of crackers so Bradley could rub your back with both hands. You hiccupped against him and mumbled, "You can say what you want. Cat knows. She guessed it. Then she took care of me."

Bradley wasn't surprised in the least that someone who had been pregnant before was able to tell that you were now. "Okay," he whispered, kissing the top of your head. He held you close and gave both Cat and Jake a stern look. "Do you want to go ahead and tell Jake?" he asked carefully. 

"Yeah," you groaned, leaning toward Jake slightly. "I'm pregnant."

If Jake didn't get Bradley out of this debacle safely, he was going to ban him from the home gym. But he should have known that above anything else in this scenario, Jake was going to have your back.

"Aww, Angel," he crooned as Jeremiah climbed into Cat's arms. "I'm so happy for you, mama." Then he kissed your cheek and winked at Bradley. "You'll be a natural, and ol' Rooster here's gonna be a class act. Now why don't you let him take you home? I can get the bin of your work stuff."

"You sure?" Bradley asked, giving Jake a discreet fist bump as you buried your face against his chest again. You were half burrowed inside his tropical print shirt at this point, and his undershirt was damp; he just wanted to get you home.

"We'll take care of it," Cat promised. "She's dehydrated. Make sure she drinks water or gatorade. And she needs to try to eat something." Jake handed the crackers back to Bradley. "Yeah, those might work, but she really needs to keep drinking."

"Got it," Bradley replied, kissing your forehead. "Thank you, Cat."

"It was my pleasure," she said with a smile as she cuddled Jeremiah. 

"Let's go, Baby Girl," Bradley whispered, leading you to get your suitcase as you sipped the ginger ale and nibbled on a cracker. He kept his hand at the small of your back as you sucked in deep breath after deep breath. "I'll get you home and into bed as quickly as possible."

You sniffed and looked up at him. "I just want you with me. That's all I wanted all week." 

Your lips quivered, and Bradley leaned in to kiss you as softly as he could. "That's all I wanted, too. I'm not going to leave your side." He kept you right there with him as he scooped up your luggage, and then he had his arm around you until he got you to the Bronco. With a kiss to your perfect cheek, he opened the door, helped you in, and buckled your seatbelt.

"Thanks, Roo," you sighed, eyes closed as you leaned back against the headrest, already looking more serene now that you and he were together.

"I would do anything for you." He stroked your belly with his fingertips. "Both of you."

Five minutes into the drive home, you were sound asleep, your fingers laced with his.

------------------------

I can already feel how much calmer she is just knowing she doesn't have as much to worry about with Bradley by her side. And he's going to be so much less stressed with her at home. It's looking like next chapter could be the last one in this series!!!! I'm hoping to do some one-shots for them and then pick up with another series? Please let me know what you'd like to see during and after her pregnancy. And thank you for reading! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 35

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #always ever only you

[neuvistar]

CAN’T SEEM TO GET ENOUGH OF YOU.

— featuring . alatus / xiao, shikanoin heizou, kaedehara kazuha, wanderer / scaramouche, albedo x fem!reader (all separate)

— warnings / content warnings . nsfw. titplay (scaramouche), scaramouche loves titties foreal, fingering (kaedehara kazuha), slight dacryphilia (kaedehara kazuha), vaginal sex, oral (f!receiving, alatus / xiao n m!receiving, shikanoin heizou), pussy!drunk xiao is my reason to live, mentions of breeding, use of nicknames, overall suggestive content. please let me know if i missed a few ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა || 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

✦ ALATUS . XIAO

there was nothing xiao wanted more than to keep you all to himself, only him. there’s nothing he craves more than you, he’s never felt this way before with anyone, nor has he ever wanted to feel this way towards anyone else, but you managed to change all of that. archons, it’s something about you that just frustrates him, his mind does this to himself. there is nothing xiao loves more than sliding your cute panties down your legs, or even pulling them aside to get his tongue deep inside licking and providing you with pleasure, running your hands through his hair, pulling and tugging at it. it’s just so so good.. he can’t seem to stop no matter how much he tries telling himself to do so.

“x—xiao..!” you sobbed, opening your thighs more for him, knowing exactly what you wanted. he wanted this as much as you do, so eager whenever he eats you out like this, hands keeping a firm grip on your thighs and keeping them spread out for him. he felt your wet juices on his chin, too lost in pleasuring you that he didn’t even notice the harsh grip he had on your thighs. “x—xiao.. please! too much.. hah!” your legs shook under his grasp, starting to give in so easily until xiao kept them up, sucking and licking at your pussy at a more quicker pace. you sucked in a short sharp hiss of breath, whining as you threw your head back, reaching your orgasm. he pulled away, licking his lips clean before leaning over to caress your cheek. “you.. you do all sorts of things to me, [name]. you make me feel things. you have no respect for the ways of the adepti, do you?” leaning back down once more, giving your pussy a few kitty licks. “closer. i haven’t.. gotten enough of you yet.”

✦ SHIKANOIN . HEIZOU

“that’s it, good girl.” heizou’s chest heaved, running his fingers through your hair as he tugged on it lightly, pushing you more down on his aching cock, mouth engulfing him completely. your mouth worked wonders on his dick, licking him at all the right spots, bobbing your head up and down, taking him deep in your throat. “slow down there, princess. wouldn’t want you to struggle now, do we?” you couldn’t help but furrow your eyebrows at him, you just wanted to shut him up right then and there. fuck.. you felt and looked so good though, mouth wrapped around his cock and taking him so well, archons if only you could see what he was seeing right now.. you looked so hot under his gaze, he wanted to push you off and place you on the table, fuck you completely stupid, breed you and fill you up to the absolute brim.

you pulled away from him, a string of saliva connected from his cock to your mouth. pressing a thumb on his tip, you licked your lips clean as heizou’s body shivered at the cold air. you laid on his thigh, grinning ever-so innocently at your boyfriend, stroking his cock at a painfully slow pace, planting kisses on it as you went on. the detective chuckled, taking your chin in his hand bringing you up to him, stealing a kiss from you before shoving you down on his cock, thrusting himself in your mouth. “that’s right mhm.. thats fucking right, taking it so so well like a good girl you are, huh? fuck.. hn. you feel s’good.” you whimpered, fingernails digging into his thighs before he reached his point, cumming inside your mouth as he pulled away, finishing on your sweet tits. “there you go princess, not that hard wasn’t it?” “mmnf.. m’mad at you.” “now now, don’t give me that.”

✦ KAEDEHARA . KAZUHA

“k—kazuha.. zuhaaaa mmh—“ you moaned as kazuha continued to fuck you with his fingers, pumping them rather quickly, leaning down over to you, pressing his lips against yours as you whimpered when he slid his tongue inside, moaning into his mouth. kazuha devoured your lips with passion yet he was still so rough, he couldn’t get enough of you, the way you sucked his fingers inside, creating more discomfort in his boxers. fuck.. you were so beautifully laid out on the mattress, his eyes wandering around your body, pretty tits displayed infront of his eyes, just for him to see. archons.. your whines and moans are like music to his ears, he’s always loved them, he’s always loved wiping tears away from your eyes. he loved seeing you cry from the pleasure he provided you with. “k—kazu.. more! please.. m’close!” “only because of my fingers? aren’t you a sweet one.” archons.. he absolutely loved the way tears streamed down your face, begging him for more like that.

he chuckled, “you look like a goddess, dearest. so perfect, spread out and lookin’ all pretty for me.” kazuha rubbed his thumb against your bud, eyes rolling to the back of your head as his fingertips reached the deepest parts inside, it felt so so good.. you let out a loud yet cute whine as your cunt clenched around his fingers, juices coating his fingers. swiftly, he took them out of your soaked pussy, red eyes making direct contact with yours as he licked the mess off clean, a deep red blush spreading across your face, pressing your thighs close together, refusing to make direct eye contact with the samurai. shifting closer to you, he eagerly took his dick in his hands, stroking it himself before grabbing your thighs, spreading your legs as much as it could. “no! kazu! m’still sensitive..” you wiped your tears before feeling his hardened cock sliding against your dripping slit. “cmon sweet princess, one more for me. i’ll take care of you, okay?”

✦ WANDERER . SCARAMOUCHE

“fuck, you’re pretty.” scaramouche whispered under his breath, reaching forward and cupping one of your tits in his hands, cheeks flushing at his stare. your head titled back as you let out a soft whimper, hands on your boyfriend’s shoulders. his thumb teased your nipple, shifting forward as he traced his warm tongue over the other nipple of your other breast. he sucked tenderly on your breasts, every lick and moan you let out making it difficult for him to hold himself back as dick hardened in his shorts. he loved and wanted every single part of you, he wanted you.. no.. he needed you. he loved the way you feel, he loved the way his hands would always engulf your tits, he loved the way you squirmed underneath him, archons.. you’re driving him crazy. he pinched one of your nipples with his fingers forcing a loud whine out of your mouth as your back arched slightly, eyes fluttering open as he smirked against your flesh seeing him enjoy himself, what a jerk.

“why are you s’mean to me, quit that!” he shook his head, a small whimper fell from you as he moved slightly above your nipple, biting onto your skin. “s—scara..” he couldn’t keep his hands off of you, his hands ran through your back, then your stomach, then.. inside your panties. “you’re such a slut.. so wet for me, just from all that sucking. are you that desperate for me?” he suckled on your tits while rubbing your aching cunt, arms wrapping around his neck. “cmon, tell me. tell me that you only belong to me. say it.” your voice shook, struggling to bring yourself to say anything due to the pleasure scaramouche was inflicting onto you, suckling at your tits as he brought his hand back up to pinch your nipple, a bit rougher this time. “i—i belong to you.. mnf!” “that’s it, that’s all i wanted to hear from that dirty mouth of yours.”

✦ ALBEDO . KREIDEPRINZ

originally, the plan was you let your boyfriend examine you so he could have more better and advanced understandings of human anatomy, well that backfired. “archons, bedo.. calm down!” your cheeks tinted in dark red, your insides sucking him in which managed to get a groan leave his lips, continuing to thrust into you as his cock was buried deep inside of your cunt, moving in and out so smoothly. “m’sorry, darling. i can’t— ah.. you feel amazing.” he ran his fingers through his hair, wanting to feel more of your warmth around his cock. he stared at your stomach catching sight of a small bulge, turning him on even more as he picked up the pace, slamming his hips against yours roughly biting his lip to hold back moans that were threatening to leave his throat. every roll of his hips against yours made your eyes roll back, tongue lolling out like the desperate sweet girl you are. “fuck, bedo..”

“archons..” the blonde moaned throwing his head back as he held his chin covering his mouth with his eyes shut, loving the way your pussy sucks him in so easily, making it easier for each snap of his hips. he hid his face on your neck, planting a couple kisses on there as you whined like a desperate bitch in heat at the sudden change in position, albedo pushing and locking your legs on the mattress beneath, allowing him to easily slide his dick inside you. your pussy dripped and soaked in your juices as sweat ran down your body, feeling albedo release inside of you. “fuck.. fuck.. more of you, darl’, give me a few more minutes..” “o—oh!” albedo forced himself deeper in your pussy, cock twitching at the beautiful sounds you were making, pounding inside you a few more times before cumming inside of you again. “bedo..—“ “i am aware you want this more than i do. one more for me, darling. m’gonna make you a mommy, i’m gonna keep filling you up until i’m absolutely certain you’ll carry my children, is that alright?”

I’m gonna be a bit honest with you all, Albedo’s part was my favourite one to write — Maryse

#ᖭི༏ᖫྀ maryse’s diary ૮꒰˶˃̵ ^ ˂̵˵꒱ა #albedo x reader #albedo smut #albedo ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ꒱ྀིა #xiao smut #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ꒱ྀིა #scaramouche ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ꒱ྀིა #scaramouche smut #kunikuzushi smut #scaramouche x reader #heizou shikanoin x reader #heizou smut #heizou x reader #heizou ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ꒱ྀིა #kazuha ૮꒰ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ꒱ྀིა #kazuha smut #kaedehara kazuha smut #kazuha x you #WAHHHH ONE OF MY FAVOURITE THINGS I WROTE <33 #kinda worked my ass off for this one tbh #genshin smut #genshin impact smut

[utahimeow]

to bind a god — satoru gojo

summary — satoru gojo lets you tie him up.

pairing — satoru gojo x f!reader

warnings — nsfw content. minors dni. bondage, femdom, sub!gojo, established relationship (reader and gojo are married), degradation, praise, edging, choking, slight dacryphilia, handjob, oral (f receiving), implied subspace, creampie

word count — 6k

author’s note — this was not supposed to be six thousand words long

To most, the idea of restraining Satoru Gojo seems inconceivable.

A being so powerful that he’s as close to omnipotent as a human can get. One who can bend reality to his will. Even to touch him, to come close enough to make contact with him– an impossible task.

So how does one restrain Satoru Gojo?

You ask him nicely.

Play with his powder-white hair as he lays in your lap, scratch at his scalp until powder white eyelashes flutter shut and he’s humming, content. Get him right where you want him to be. And then, dangle his undying love for you over his head. It works every time.

“Baby?” you muse.

“Hmm?”

“You know how you love me so much? In sickness and in health? Till death do us part?” It’s not entirely uncommon for you to remind him of the very words you had repeated to one another the day you became forever bound to one another. And before you had made your vows to one another, it was some other twisted way of getting exactly what you wanted. In truth, however, batting your eyelashes at Satoru was usually enough. 

Your husband’s eyes flicker open and he gazes up at you, one thin white eyebrow raised pointedly. He sighs then, even rolling his eyes a little, ever so dramatic. “Yes, my dear wife, you know I'd do anything for you.”

“So then, you’ll let me tie you up and edge you, right?”

He barks out one of his booming, obnoxious laughs. As if you’ve just said the most impossible, unfathomable, unimaginable thing. 

He sits up, still laughing, searching your face for a sign that you’re joking. He doesn’t find it. 

“I’m being serious, Satoru.” 

His cerulean irises, the very ones that hold an ancient power so immense that it seems like a myth, widen. He audibly gulps and his Adam’s apple bobs. Yet amidst his off-put reaction, something else lingers. Something that tells you he just needs a little extra push.

“Come on, I mean… think of all the things I let you do with me, baby,” you reason. Not that Satoru’s particularly into anything obscure. Rather, the intensity of the way he takes you usually leaves you recovering for days– because you love when he does. Naturally, he’ll use toys, or a blindfold, or handcuffs, but never anything as ‘serious’ as bondage. And sure, he assumes the dominant role, but that’s only because you enjoy having him in charge of your pleasure. It’s never any kind of formal dominance or submission, either. No titles, no punishments– outside of being playful, that is. 

The final blow is, in fact, when you bat your eyelashes and pout at him. 

Of course, he agrees. Because you’re you, and he’s him, a man not immune to a little sweet talk from his wife.

And of course, he does point out the elephant in the room – he’s the strongest human being in existence. What’s to stop him from slipping out of the ropes? He could do so without so much as blinking an eye.

“Just pretend, dummy! No teleporting, no breaking or dissolving the ropes into thin air, no nothing,” you tell him. Without a doubt, you assure him that these come with the exception that if Satoru needs to escape, by all means he may escape – an alternative to a safeword. 

Thus, two weeks later, Satoru kneels in the centre of your shared California king bed. He’s bare as the day he was born, his body sculpted like a divine statue, the manifestation of years of sorcery displayed in the way each muscle has been carved to perfection.

A tiny smirk sits on his face as he observes your concentrated state. Your lip is trapped between your teeth while you weave strands of rope together into neat patterns over Satoru’s chest, torso, arms, thighs. His arms are pulled behind his back, bound together by delicate knots. His steady breathing orchestrates your movements, and when you catch his gaze you pause just to admire him for a moment. Your heart swells with warmth, with debilitating affection for him.

Before long, you’ve weaved the rope into perfection. You take a step back from the bed, away from his kneeling form, to drink in your masterpiece. 

The rope slithers over his body, milk-white skin tainted by sanguine red. It’s not tight enough to squeeze, yet his biceps seem to swell between the gaps. The strand that runs down the middle of his chest and underneath leaves his pectorals bulging and you’re filled with the urge to bite and mark him. To claim him as yours. As if he’s not already wrapped up like a present for you. As if he’s not wearing a ring that pledges his soul to yours.

You’re rather impressed with yourself, too. It’s not bad at all for your first time, although technically you’ve spent weeks practising on anything limb-shaped whilst your husband was out of the house. None of it is particularly intricate, yet somehow you think that, had it been any of the more detailed patterns you’d seen on the web, he would not look so breathtaking. 

“Well? Is it everything you imagined?” Satoru quips, pulling you from your trance.

You narrow your eyes, questioning why you presumed that being tied up would ever stop him from running his mouth when even a ball gag would be useless on him. You nod though, humming in affirmation. It’s the last bit of satisfaction he’ll get from you. 

“You look pretty, Satoru,” you say, and it’s genuine, yet there’s a flutter in his belly at the teasing edge in your voice. “It doesn’t hurt anywhere?”

“No, ma’am,” he grins.

“Good. I’ll be back in a second,” you tell him before you prance off to your walk-in closet where two little pieces of lace await you. 

Satoru can’t be the only one all dressed up, after all. 

When you return, you’re in a bustier top, with lace and frills and tiny ribbons, and a matching thong– red, to match the ropes that decorate your husband’s body like ornaments. Satoru’s grinning like a pervert, devouring you with his eyes, his cock twitching and leaking as it hangs between his thighs. 

“Oh, look at you,” he says with a gaze filled with awe. Heat crawls to every corner of your body, but you swallow the urge to melt from his words and maintain your composure. “You got yourself a little outfit?”

You nod, mischief flashing across your face. “Since you were so kind and generous to let me tie you up, I thought I’d treat you a little.”

“Fuck, I’m lucky, heh?”

Tilting your head, you step closer to Satoru once more, his eyes like rhinestones glimmering with far too much arrogance for your liking. He has no idea what you have in mind. Or maybe he does, and he’s naive enough to think it won’t have any effect on him. 

You kneel on the bed in front of him, leaning in until you’re mere millimetres away from his face and your breath is warm on his lips. 

But you don’t kiss him. And when he sways forward, trying to catch your lips with his, you pull away.

“Aw, come on, baby. I can’t even get a kiss?” He’s pouting. Unfortunately for him, it’s a habit of his that you’ve grown resistant to.

“Say please,” you say.

His smile only grows, devilish and knowing. Then, a “please?”

Your hand lands at the base of his neck when you press into him, your lips meeting his softly, tongue dipping into his mouth just barely, just enough to keep him wanting more. The hand that sits on his clavicles begins inching down, sliding over the rope you so carefully placed. 

Feather-light, you brush a single fingertip against the head of Satoru’s dick which now stands upright between his legs. He shivers instantly, ever so sensitive to any touch, but especially sensitive because it’s you.

He did grow up with no choice than to be self-indulgent, after all. To cling to anything remotely good, even if he has to be a little selfish about it. So he clings to pleasure. He clings to your sighs and moans, to the way you wrap around him, to your hips and thighs, to every part of you. It’s made him far too spoiled. 

Your finger traces down his shaft, over the unforgiving veins, along his flushing skin. Your hand wraps around him then, fingertips hardly touching, and he groans into your mouth. 

“Eager?” you taunt. His eyes dart to your lips as you pull away from his face, watching the way they’ve become slick with honey-like spit. 

“You really can’t blame me,” he replies. 

You chuckle, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip and settling onto your knees in the spot next to him.

Satoru’s gaze drops down to the way your first wraps around his cock. Just as quickly, you lift his head back up, fingers under his chin until his eyes meet yours.

“Eyes on me,” you say. Something behind his irises bubbles, clawing at the surface. Still, he’s grinning.

When your hand starts to move, he sucks in a breath. Even if it’s achingly slow and barely enough to cause any stimulation, the relief that lies in being touched by you is enough. 

“You always take such good care of me,” you tell him, batting your eyelashes so sweetly at him. “Let me do the same for you, won’t you?”

He hums, long and drawn out, and your thumb glides over his tender tip. As you smooth over the slit, you shouldn’t be surprised when your fingers become damp with his arousal. 

“Already wet, huh?” 

“Well, you know what you do to me,” Satoru says, with a slight drawl in his words already, cheeks heating.

Maybe that’s part of it, but you also have no doubt that the ropes that frame his arms and torso are starting to coil around his mind too. Promising to take him to a space he’s never been to before.

So soon.

You drag your fist up and down, inch by inch, having no intention of speeding up. Not for a while anyway. He’s much too used to getting anything he wants from you.

He’ll try to pretend he’s patient. That’s fine. You’ll work him until he’s no longer pretending.

You ghost your lips against his jaw, along the column of his neck, nipping at his marble-white skin until there’s a mark or two left behind. Your teeth graze at his earlobe and he shivers. Something in your brain clicks when he does– the thought of him writhing beneath you makes you dizzy. 

You’ll get him there, you assure yourself. The slower the better.

Ever so slightly though, you pick up your pace, pumping him a little quicker now. 

“How’s that feel, Satoru?” you ask, a mix between taunting and the genuine desire to hear his affirmation.

“Feels real good,” he breathes, still grasping onto steadiness, refusing to let his tone waver.

The next time your hand slides up his cock, you squeeze a little harder, like a reward for his surprising lack of sarcasm. His breath hitches slightly when you do, leaving you grinning.

Every pearl of precum that drools from the slit of Satoru’s cock gets smeared along his length by your palm. It doesn’t take long until he’s covered in a layer of slick, aiding the way your hand glides up and down at a speed that’s finally enough to light a fire deep in his abdomen. 

His jaw clenches and he gulps, yet he remains practically silent– much to your disapproval.

“Wanna hear you, baby. Go on,” you coo, catching his gaze as you tighten your fist around him for a split second. It’s not like him to keep his noises to himself when he feels good, anyway.

His mouth drops, and a breathy little whine falls from his lips, and it becomes clear why he needed your encouragement. The noise makes your own clit throb, painfully unstimulated.

“There you are, such a good boy,” you say, stroking your hand faster. 

From then on, Satoru doesn’t resist letting out his whiny noises, mixed with his panting. It’s a complete contrast to his usual grunts, growls, and groans that are always so low, coming from deep in his chest as he takes you exactly how he likes, how he wants, how he needs. Now he’s all breath and high-pitched, sweat building on his temple, helpless as he sits wrapped up in the palm of your hand.

His cock is near-purple and painfully hard as you jerk him off, twisting your hand at his tip with a slick noise. His hips are starting to buck, the hard ridges of his abdomen starting to ripple. The ropes stretch, like they’re breathing, and then they come to life.

“Tell me when you’re close, Satoru,” you say, stern compared to how sweet you’ve been up until now. When you look at his face, his eyes are half-lidded and clouded over, his eyebrows pulled together. Your hand slows to a near halt and he whines pitifully. “Look at me.”

It takes him a second, but he blinks and then his glazed irises meet yours. 

“You’ll tell me when you’re close, won’t you?”

“Y-yes,” he moans, hips rutting slightly into your fist, begging for friction once more. “Please.”

You smile, satisfied. He’s been so obedient thus far, you have no reason to not resume the cruel jerking of your hand– with even more haste this time.

This time, you pump your hand with determination, lip caught between your teeth as you watch him eagerly, soaking up his reactions. As Satoru starts to near his edge his head falls back, his name on your lips as his veins start to burn with a familiar sensation.

“Close,” he breathes. “I’m close.”

And everything he’s built up comes tumbling down the second you take your hand off of him. 

“No, please,” he cries, voice cracking, him squirming in his restraints. It’s pathetic. It’s adorable. “You can’t do this to me, baby.”

You giggle, watching his eyes brim with tears. “I just did.”

“I’d never do this to you,” he says, more desperate than you’ve ever heard him. 

“Because you can’t control yourself, baby. Maybe now you’ll learn,” you tell him, smiling so sweetly. Your fingertip brushes against his raging, red cock and he flinches, near-shrieking. “Deal?” 

“Fine- please, just touch me again, fuck,” he begs, his voice sending bolts of pleasure to your core and you’re suddenly aware of the slick pooling in your own panties. 

Your hand wraps around his dick again and falls back into a steady rhythm, dragging up and down the hard length in a way that has Satoru whining again instantly. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whimpers over and over.

Within mere minutes, he’s throbbing into your hand once more, hardly muttering the word “close” before you take your hand off him.

“Ple-ease,” he mewls. “Need to cum, please let me cum.”

You have Satoru Gojo under your thumb. There’s no doubt about it.

Your chest aches with sympathy for him, truly. You are doing this for purely selfish reasons, after all, to soothe a sadistic, power-hungry instinct inside you. He’s done nothing wrong. But God, the way your brain buzzes from being able to get him like this in no time at all.

“Just hold out a little longer for me, Satoru, yeah? I promise it’ll feel so good,” you tell him. Your original plan was to see how long you could keep working him up for, but your pussy is starting to become restless. Between your legs, a pulse begs to be relieved. 

He replies with a moan and a twitch of his hips up into your hand that’s tugging at his cock again. You didn’t think it possible for it to be this red, this swollen and hard, veins bulging, his tip leaking so much precum that it almost looks like he already came. You drool a little, shivering at the thought of it stretching you out. 

The next time Satoru warns you of his impending orgasm so you can take your hand off of his cock is much sooner than the last few times. His entire body squirms, his arm muscles tensing against his restraints, and he sobs, tears slipping down his blood flushed cheeks.

From his swollen lips comes a stream of pleas and whimpers, ones that make you want to give him the world. You’re not sure how much of this you can take, let alone him. 

“It hurts,” he whispers. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows hard. 

“It hurts? You can safeword if you need,” you remind him, scanning his eyes for any signs of panic, but you’re only met with a blissed out haze. 

“No,” he says, shaking his head with determination. “I’m the strongest.”

Despite his dazed state, he manages to give a stupid, insufferable smirk like he just told the greatest punchline in history. 

“And here you are, crying like a little bitch because I won’t let you cum.”

You thrive off of the cry he lets out when you squeeze his cock, hard. In the blink of an eye he returns to whining pathetically and begging for release.

“Please… please,” he sniffles, tossing his head back in frustration. 

Frankly, you’re amazed that he hasn’t teleported out of the ropes. You doubt he can truly keep up the act– that the ropes are really binding, that he can’t simply tear them apart without so much as lifting a finger– so why hasn’t he?

For a moment you peer up at him, at the desperate sight of him wriggling and squirming, at the straining of muscles that are packed with immeasurable strength, and a chill runs down your spine. 

He thinks he’s truly restrained.

It shouldn’t surprise you that the second he’s put under a shred of control, he gives in instantly. The moment he can surrender his power he’s forced to carry, he does it without hesitation. There is no one else he would ever be so vulnerable for, but you. No one else whose hands he would feel so safe and secure in. No one else he would ever rip open his chest and show his heart to.

The least you can do is put him out of misery, for now.

“What do you want?” you ask, dripping with honey, dragging your hand up and down, up and down. Every movement gives a shlick, shlick, shlick from the way his cock weeps.

“Wanna cum,” he whines, arms twitching behind his back, desperate for some kind of leverage. “Please, I-I need to cum.”

And so you succumb to his pleas. Finally, you give him exactly what he wants, working your hand over him so fast that his whimpers turn into a stream of incoherent cries. He twitches and throbs in your palm, until at last, with a choked sob, he cums.

Streaks of warm, white seed splatter over Satoru’s chest and abdomen, his entire body wrought with tremors as pleasure sinks into every muscle and every fibre that he’s made up of.

“Good boy, there you go,” you murmur, keeping your slicked up hand stroking him at a gentle pace to get him through his climax. “Did so well.”

His entire body trembles as he breathes through the aftershocks of his orgasm. Your clean hand soothes over his hard thigh, over his shoulder, squeezing softly as you crane your head to slot your mouth against his. He barely has the energy to kiss you back, yet still his tongue moves against yours like a natural instinct, albeit weakly. 

You pull away, hovering a mere inch away from his face and cradling his cheek with your hand. “Doing okay?”

A dopey smile makes his features light up and any blooming anxiousness within you gets put to rest. “Yeah. It felt so good.”

In turn, your own lips curl into a smile of satisfaction. Then the heat pooling between your legs makes itself known once more, and your brain sparks with an idea. “Good. You think you can help me out now?”

Satoru nods, ever eager, drool forming at the corner of his lips. It’s adorable how whipped he is. 

Your fingers hook into the knot in the centre of Satoru’s chest, guiding him to turn so that he faces the headboard. You crawl up a little, splaying yourself out against the pillows, spreading your legs with your bottom lip between your teeth and the confidence of the entire world.

Satoru watches you with galaxies in his eyes as you push your little thong down your legs and toss it to the floor. His tongue nearly lolls out of his mouth when he finds the glimmering slick that dribbles out of your hole. When you bring two of your fingers down and drag your fingertips through your folds, you think he might start panting like a dog. 

You make a show of dipping your fingers into your soaked cunt, rolling your eyes back and arching a little as you moan, sweet and soft.

“Baby, please,” Satoru croaks out, wriggling in his ropes a little. 

“What, Satoru?” you tease, the sound of his begging sending heat straight to the growing bubble of pleasure in your gut.

“Can I have a taste?”

You grin devilishly as you pull your fingers from your dripping hole. Rising to your knees, your arm snakes behind his head, your hand settling on the back of his neck. The other hand, with your fingers covered in your nectar, hovers by his puffy lips. 

“Open for me,” you say, voice low and, without meaning it to be, sultry. 

Satoru’s mouth drops without a shred of hesitation. Your fingers sit on his tongue, your eyes locked with his as you say the word, “close.” 

He does, and then he’s drinking in the flavour, suckling on your fingers as though they’re an oasis and he’s been in the desert for his entire life. 

How you wish you could savour the image of his eyes as you push your fingers further into his mouth. White lashes flutter and tears well up, threatening to spill over his lash line, your grip on the back of his neck tightening as your fingers sink deeper into his mouth. When they reach the back of his throat, he mewls softly, swallowing around your digits.

“Such a good boy,” you say. Saliva webs cling to your fingertips as you withdraw them from Satoru’s lips slowly. “Now why don’t you eat my pussy like the good boy you are?”

“Please, please, let me,” he practically garbles, drooling and slobbering at just the prospect. 

You lay back, opening your legs so invitingly for him once again that he nearly lurches forward this time–that’s his place, after all, his home. Between your thighs. 

As you grasp the centre knot once more, Satoru allows himself to fall forward, diving straight into your cunt. 

He makes no effort to tease, or take his time. He’s hungry, and having his hands bound behind his back makes his face grow hot with pure frustration. He needs to feel your soft, velvety walls clench around his fingers. Craves it, in fact. 

Then his tongue runs up and down your folds, lapping at the sweetness that spills from you, and his mind floods with the single desire to make you cum with his mouth. 

Both of your hands fly to his head, weaving into the roots of his snow-white hair as moans start to fall from your lips. Your thighs tighten around his head when he latches onto your clit, swollen from neglect and aching to be touched. 

It only takes a few seconds before your belly starts to fill with a pulsing warmth that has you keening for more. As Satoru slurps at your cunt, your hips rut against his face in tandem. You’re selfish, shamelessly so, allowing yourself to indulge as Satoru always does with you. Something gleams in his eyes when you catch them with yours– bliss, thrill. His head is swimming, pure liquid, as the thought of you using him purely for your own selfish pleasure sinks in and makes his dick grow hard all over again. 

Over the lewd, wet noises of Satoru’s tongue flicking and suckling at your clit, your sweet, airy moans harmonise with his own grunted ones, muffled slightly by your pussy, but they’re still so loud. His voice vibrates against your core, and it sends pangs of bliss shooting straight to your gut. 

The sight of his huge, hulking body, bound and bent over, is breathtaking. Thick thighs keep his body from collapsing to the bed. If it were you, your abdomen would have long given out. Yet he stays upright, his head between your legs, his mouth never once faltering in the way it ravages your pussy. 

“Satoru- fuck,” you whimper, pressing your hips up into his mouth, your greed fuelled by the way he moans in reply and licks at you without any mercy. 

Spit and arousal pools on the sheets beneath your ass. Satoru comes up for air for half of a second, his cheeks and chin shining with your saccharine essence. The pure mess–the carnage of it all makes your head spin. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, and in the blink of an eye he’s flattening his tongue against your clit once more. 

Your head sinks further into the pillow beneath you as you claw at his scalp and press his face closer into you. He’s ravaging you now, drunk on the sight of you being torn away from sanity as you near your climax.

Then, with nothing but your whimpered warning, that pulsing warmth in your belly erupts, washing over your entire body in a violent wave. Your muscles tighten, your mind numb from the overwhelming bliss, and Satoru wishes he could devour you whole. 

He waits until you tap at his shoulder to sit back on his shins with a smirk tugging at his lips and slick dripping down his jaw. Your legs tremble as you rise to your knees and shuffle closer to him, heartbeat still thudding in your ears as you crane your neck up to his face. Your lips are so messy against his, yet your kiss is so tender and full of affection when you wrap your arms around his neck. 

Between your legs, Satoru’s erection grazes against your thighs. You giggle into his mouth, and there’s a smack when you pull your lips from his. 

“So needy, aren’t you, Satoru? You like eating pussy that much?” you tease, reaching between him and you to stroke at his length. He gasps when your hand wraps around him, twitching into your palm.

“You know I do, baby, love your pussy so much,” he says, breathy and rasped. His jaw strains when you scratch at his undercut and bite your lip, your eyes no doubt glinting with mischief. 

“Then get on your back and I’ll let you fuck it,” you tell him. 

He throws himself to the mattress comically fast, inching up the bed, laying there, all wrapped up and patient for you. 

You giggle as you throw one of your legs over his waist and straddle him, bringing your hands down to his chest. Slowly, your palms run over each ridge and knot once more. Satoru revels in the brush of your flesh over his, in between rows of rope where his caged skin blushes. It glitters, too, with a sheen of sweat that matches yours. 

“You look beautiful like this,” you tell him, reaching up to stroke your thumb over his warm cheek, looking straight into the oceans of his irises as you say the words. 

His features turn soft, flashing with so much affection that it makes your heart soar. 

Taking his cock in your hand, you love the way he shivers as you drag the head through your dripping wet folds. Then, unable to hold out even a second longer, you line him up with your entrance and let him plunge inside of you. Both of you hiss in tandem, you sinking down on him, taking every last inch all at once. 

Satoru is already whimpering as you seat yourself on him, your hips flush to his. Your eyes roll back into your head, the delicious stretch of his cock making your brain turn fuzzy. 

The first bounce of your hips has him nearly crying. As though he’s been punched in the gut, Satoru gasps at the way you squeeze around his achingly hard, overstimulated cock. He feels every crevice of your walls, how the soft warmth sucks him in so sweetly that the ceiling above him starts spinning even though barely a minute has passed.

“Satoru,” you giggle, not caring that you fail to hide the breathlessness in your own voice from the sensation of being speared on his fat cock. “If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were a virgin.”

His dick twitches and his eyes grow round, his mouth dropping as you start to move in a steady rhythm. “I-it’s too good, I- fuck.”

“It’s too good?” you tease, dropping down on him a little harder now. Your hands wander along the patterns of rope absentmindedly, toying with him. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna cum already.”

“‘m not, I promise,” he whimpers, sucking in a trembled breath, his gaze fixing on your face. 

“Good boy,” you say. Then, you abandon all mercy. 

Fucking yourself back onto him, you let a chorus of shameless moans spill from your lips, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock rub against your walls. Satoru is even noisier, struggling to contain his high-pitched whines and whimpered moans as he struggles against his restraints. 

Your fingers curl around a knot on Satoru’s abdomen for balance. The way you move your hips is relentless, the skin of your ass smacking against his thighs, wet and sticky with sweat and arousal. Utterly lewd.

Satoru’s cock pounds against your sweet spot effortlessly each time you bounce in his lap. Brushes against your cervix when you lean forward just a little. It makes your eyes roll, the way he’s carved himself out inside you after all these years, the way your cunt moulds itself around him and clings to him so perfectly.

He looks so sweet beneath you. Taking everything you give him. His jaw is slack, his hair a tousled mess. His eyes are blown out, with nothing but dazed bliss behind them. His skin– hot pink and dewy. You’ve never seen him like this. So dishevelled. So ruined. And in the deepest corners of your brain, something has been altered. Something that makes you yearn for more of him just like this. 

It’s almost subconscious the way your hand traces up Satoru’s hard abdomen and sits on his neck. He shivers at the touch, his gaze flickering with something dark, before your fingers start to press softly into the sides of his neck. Ever so slowly, his moans turn to strained breaths. For a fleeting moment, the corners of his lips even quirk upwards.

What a slut.

You bend forward, your flesh warm against his ropes, your clothed tits pressed to his chest. Your lips slot against his, sloppy, your love spilling into him as you kiss him hard. Inside you, he throbs, just as a pulsing heat bubbles inside you from the constant friction of his cock brushing your sensitive spot. 

You pull away from his face, gazing into his irises to watch him slowly unravel. To let him watch the way you’re slowly starting to fall apart, too. You’re growing closer to your edge by the minute, refusing to falter your rocking hips despite how your thighs are trembling and starting to ache. Despite how pinches of pleasure run through your veins and make your head heavy.

When you gently loosen your fingers around Satoru’s throat, his chest blooms up against you as he gulps down the oxygen you’ve deprived him of.

“My little slut,” you whisper into his lips, pressing a quick kiss to them before straightening your back and pushing yourself upright. Suddenly, the urge to make both him and yourself cum is detrimental. 

One of your hands grips your tit over your bustier, squeezing at your own mound until your head falls back and you sigh. Your other hand travels between your legs, and you jump when your fingers find your swollen, sensitive bud. Still, the bliss that shoots straight to your core as you start to rub rapid circles into it has you moaning– loud.

From the sight alone, Satoru’s hips start to buck wildly up into you. His moans become never-ending, his cock jumping, balls tightening like they’re ready to be drained. 

“Fucking- gonna cum, can I? Please?” he huffs, squirming helplessly. You’re just impressed he still remembered to ask for your permission.

“Yes, Satoru, cum for me. Fill me up,” you tell him, breathless as you ride him with determination, clenching around him like you’re going to milk him– and you are milking him.

Satoru’s cumming, his back arching into the air as he sobs out, almost like he’s in pain. Your walls turn white, streaked with seed as his cock pumps you full. 

Still your hand works your clit relentlessly, your other hand flying to Satoru’s abdomen to steady yourself because before long your own orgasm hurtles towards you. Deep in your gut, the bubbling heat finally boils over, sending searing pleasure to your very fingertips. Satoru moans in unison with you as stars dance in your vision and your pussy tightens around him like a grip. 

A moment later, once you’ve come back down from your high, Satoru’s voice comes out in a rasp. “Let me see it.”

You lean backwards, bracing yourself on his thighs so you can lift yourself up off of him, letting his cock slip out and watching his sticky cum follow. It drools out of your hole so obscenely that you almost want to hide your face, until you remember that it’s your husband who’s staring at you. 

When the sheets are stained with every last drop that Satoru had emptied inside you, you collapse forward, heaving as you collect your breath. All at once, your aching thighs, your fatigued muscles, and your fuzzy head hit you like a punch to the face. The side of your face is pressed to Satoru’s plump chest, where his heart pounds against his ribcage so hard that you hear the way it races. 

“Did so good, baby,” you hum. Sleep calls you, wrapping its tendrils around you, but you fight it off in favour of clambering off of his lap. Something in your mind urges you to be gentle with him, like he’s glass– even though he’s anything but. Still– the blissed out, empty look in his eyes almost makes you sob. “Doing okay?”

“Yeah,” he replies, chuckling softly like he knows it’s exactly what you need to hear. 

“Can I undo the rope?” you offer, running a hand through his mussed up hair.

“No need,” is all he says. He sits up, stretches his arms to the sides, and the rope splits, falling off of his body in a crimson heap on the bed sheets.

You shouldn’t be this surprised; still, your mouth hangs from your husband’s display. Somehow it’s easy to forget just how strong he is until he reminds you once more. However, the ropes have also left their own reminder in snake-like imprints in his skin.

“You know, I was gonna offer to rub lotion on you, but apparently you don’t need it,” you huff. It’s not like he can’t just use Reverse Cursed Technique to heal himself, anyway. “Also, what if I wanted to use those ropes again?”

Satoru’s hand glides softly over your thigh, his face genuinely apologetic. “We can always get more, baby. And by the way, you were really good at that, you know.”

“You think so?” you question, leaning into him. “So, you’ll let me do it again, right?”

“Well, I didn’t say that.”

His words are void of any genuine objection. 

We’ll see about that.

to my wonderful beta reader @tetsutits <3 reblogs and feedback are much appreciated!

#gojo smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojou satoru x you #gojo imagine #gojo satoru imagine #gojo x you #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic

[thedevilspearl]

keep that mouth full, baby — older brothers

a/n: time to finally satisfy my oral fixation and give you guys some more self–indulgent, smutty goodness. today’s edition is mc giving the older brother’s a blowjob while they are busy with other things.

tags: 0.9k words, blowjobs (obviously), oral fixation, no gender specified, reader x lucifer, mammon + leviathan.

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑

the dim lighting in lucifer’s office certainly sets the mood. you wonder how he is capable of not straining his aged eyes while reading through his paperwork, but you assume he opted for quiet lighting so you wouldn’t notice how flustered his face is.

not that you have a good view of his face under his desk. but still, if anyone would go so far to hide their blushing face from the person they love, it would be lucifer.

it’s not something to complain about. the small compartment under his desk is more than cosy given that lucifer plopped a few cushions and a blanket under there before you surrendered your mouth to his aching cock.

for hours, you’ve sat between his legs with only a small gap to peak up at him while his cock sits on your tongue. every now and then, you’d stroke him, slowly dragging his length in and out of your mouth before resting your tired head against his thigh. you’d feel his muscles clench as you bring him right to the edge before maliciously decide to stop, feigning fatigue.

lucifer brings his gloved hand below, running fingers through your locks to comfort you while imagining yanking them and using your mouth like a toy to get off. but his fantasies stay well within his mind because there is no way he can wade his way through the mountain of paperwork without the warmth from your mouth on him.

teasing and edging aside, his burning skin and shallow pants motivate him to finish his work faster, so he can have you all to himself. he’s holding in his orgasm because when he does give in, he wants to give his all to you with undivided attention.

it’s torture — cruel, yet comforting. but lucifer can’t function without it, without you.

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

you’ve been through many an attempt to force mammon to finish his homework on time, or at all, for that matter. but nothing has worked quite as well as this.

it started as a promise — finish your homework and i’ll give you a blowjob. anyone could imagine how quickly he got it done, but no one would imagine him scoring full marks. and that’s how you discovered pleasing the greedy demon’s huge cock was the best way to improve his grades.

mammon begs you to help him with his homework, and you know he doesn’t need help, he needs your mouth.

it’s become such a common occurrence that your jaw begins to ache every time you hear the word homework. and yet, you don’t find a reason to stop because you are just as greedy as the avatar of greed. you’ve become addicted to the feeling of his cock filling your mouth.

he hisses as your tongue runs along his length.

“fuck….” he whimpers. “your mouth is so filthy, but so fucking good.”

he throws his head back and you take him whole into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth until you can take as much of his length as possible, and use your fist to pump the rest of him. he is so overtaken by bliss that he thrusts his hips, but you don’t allow him the privilege of control.

“ngh, mammon,” you gasp, pulling away with a string of saliva connecting you to his cock. “don’t get ahead of yourself. you’re not allowed to cum until you finish your homework.”

he reluctantly picks up his pen while his cock twitches in your mouth. deep groans escape him and you continue salivating all over his cock, sucking even harder.

“hurry up,” you whine. “i want your cum all over my tongue.”

𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍

once again, leviathan has been locked in his room for hours. you expected it; he just bought the new video game he wanted for so long and now….well, right now, he cares more about the stupid game than you.

but you won’t have it.

levi is so engrossed in his game that he doesn’t notice you entering his room, or you stripping naked, or you crawling past his feet and into the little nook under his gaming desk.

you’re just about ready to slap him across the face just so he would notice you, but you turn the frustration into motivation. your fingers trace his ankles all the way up his calves, tickling his sensitive skin a shiver wakes him up from his intense gaming trance.

surprised from the sudden touch, he rolls his chair back, giving you enough room to pop out from underneath.

“mc, what are you do–” his eyes rake over your form, finally realising your naked form. “w–what are you doing there? like that ?”

his cheeks burn red and you smile at him teasingly, running your hands all over your body and watching his brain malfunction from the teasing.

“like this? levi….i wanted to see you for so long. but you’ve been playing yoir new game.” you pout. “but it’s okay. you can keep playing and i’ll stay under here.”

“is that—mmh!” he cuts himself off with a moan as you grab his cock, fondling it and pulling it out of his pants. the poor demon is so touch deprived that his cock grows hard in so little time, and you waste no more putting it in your mouth.

“keep playing,” your order is muffled by his cock, and his fingers spasm over his controller buttons, pressing all the wrong ones because the warmth and tightness from your mouth have him hooked immediately, and his game is long forgotten. “good boy.”

#♡ pearl’s writing #obey me x reader #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me smut #obey me lucifer smut #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon smut #obey me mammon x reader #obey me leviathan #obey me levi smut #obey me levi x reader

[poppy-metal]

listen. i’m blowing up your inbox and im sorry but i’m a wreck. TALK TO ME AB THE EMOTIONAL I NEED YOU SEX.

eddie’s passionate, and that definitely extends to sex, but you both are so overcome with love and gratitude that you’re both there and okay, and you’re being so gentle with him he wants to cry because he loves you so much. yall figure out why they call it “making love” that night

I was made for loving you.

a/n: this is my fix it fic. my comfort. my delusion.

cw: past fwb eddie x reader. feelings. reader is bad at them. soft sex. soft dom!eddie

why does the term 'making love' warm me up on the inside? i am disgusting.

thinking of being in a fwb situation with him before you went and saved the world together. you'd always kept him at arms length, he's just a punk and you did ballet type shit. but stumbling into your big empty house, dirty and grimy and sweaty, you don't seem that far apart. from that different of worlds.

he'd almost died. you'd had that second of bone chilling fear deep in your gut when the bats had taken him down. the screams you let out had your throat still feeling raw. you hadn't let go of his hand the whole ride home. the whole time he was being attended to. you hadn't spoken much.

you're still silent now, nawing on your bottom lip as you let him use your shower. the distant sound of the water fills your room and you can't handle it anymore. the distance. the being away from him.

he jumps, predictable and dramatic, when you open your bathroom door. he's got the shower running but he'd been sitting on the closed lid of the toliet, scrubbing his hands down his face, still fully clothed.

"jesus." he says, startled. he runs a hand through his bangs, making them stick up. "ever heard of knocking? what I'd been indecent?"

you come to him, knowing he's deflecting. "seen you naked before, munson."

he looks down at his hands on his lap. bites his bottom lip. "right."

you kneel down in front of him and put your hands on his knees, looking up at him. he has such big eyes. expressive. they can't hide anything from you. right now you can tell he's still terrified.

"you almost died, eddie."

you see his throat work around a swallow. his knee under your palm starts to shake a little. bobbing up and down. "i know. yeah i-" he takes a breath. closes his eyes and then opens them again. they look wet. "i know."

you grip him a little hard. your bottom lip trembles. "i almost lost you."

he smiles then. its a crooked, half little smile if a bit wobbly. "can't get rid of me that easily, sweetheart."

you know he uses jokes like this, his sarcasm, as a defense. usually you roll your eyes at it, let it roll off your shoulders like water and maybe say something biting back, even if you don't mean it. you can't find it in you to joke right now.

"I don't want to get rid of you." you say, completely serious. "eddie, you know that right? you know that i- that you-"

he looks at you. his eyes are that intense kind of dark they get before he kisses you. when he knows you're bluffing when you say something casual. like he can see inside you so easily. like its nothing. it never fails to make you feel stripped bare. naked.

"that you what?" his voice is soft. testing. his hands cover yours on his thighs, thumbs stroking over your knuckles.

you'd kiss him now usually. to avoid the truth of your feelings. to cover up, at least metaphorically, how naked he made you feel.

you swallow and instead of covering up, you stand slowly. his eyes track the movement until he's staring up at you, wide eyes framed by pretty lashes.

"that i need you." you say, simply. and then you're raising your hands to unbutton your tattered blouse. your hands trembling.

you've undressed in front of him more times then you can count, had him undress you. this is different. this means something. this is you letting him in.

he watches you, entranced. he always looks so worshipful. before you'd always dug your nails into his back to avoid those looks, dug your heels into his ass and taunted him in some way to make him fuck you hard not gentle.

gentle was what people who felt for eachother did. gentle was making love. gentle was being in love.

when you step out of your panties you're already slick between your legs. but you ignore that for now and reach for him. you want him bare too. you want nothing between you, nothing but skin and bones and flesh and aliveness. hes alive. hes okay. hes here.

"wanna feel you." you say, almost pleadingly as you guide him to stand. he's taller than you, your nose at his shoulders. your fingers delve into his jacket, sliding it off his shoulders. "need to- need to know you're okay. is that- is that okay?"

you'd never asked something like that before. but you genuinely want to know. maybe this isn't what he needs right now.

you hear his shaky inhale and then his hands are helping you, shaking just as much as yours to divest him of his clothes. you swallow when he steps out of his jeans. his body is beautiful. a work of art. pale and lean. your hand pets through the hair trailing down his navel, marveling at how his stomach flexea under your touch.

"i need" he stops and then starts again. "i need you too. so much. you don't know how much i do."

you peer up at him and let yourself smile as your hand reaches down to lightly grip the hard flesh between his thighs. his eyes flutter when your palm envelopes his velvety cock. stroking it once. "show me?"

when he looks at you, he looks pained. "I don't know if i can pretend I'm not fucking in love with you tonight, baby. i can't- i can't just fuck you like you weren't the last thing i saw before i thought i was gonna kick it."

you feel your chest crack open. you regret so much of your past. so much time spent pushing this beautiful boy away when you should have been pulling him closer. so much closer. letting him love you.

"i don't want to pretend anymore, eddie." you lean up on your tip toes to brush your lips against his. "make love to me."

he lets out a broken sound. a whimper almost, and then he's kissing you. hard at first and then gentle. his hands cup your face. tongue flicking against yours, melting into your mouth. "let me clean you up first, yeah? think we both need to not smell like sewage."

and you do. let him. and he lets you. you step into the lukewarm shower together and its the most intimate you've ever been with eachother. wandering hands gliding over wet skin, fingers massaging shampoo into hair. you hold eachother, chest to chest for awhile under the spray, fingers dancing between his shoulder blades as his stroke down your spine.

when you step out, you don't bother with towels, both needy now. you let him guide you back to your room, to your bed, where he lowers you down onto the soft plush of your bed.

"so pretty." he says against your stomach, kissing his way down. "you've got such a beautiful body. know you don't like me spending too much time on it- but god. that's all i want to do. take my time with you. love every inch of you with my mouth."

he kisses your pubic bone and you close your eyes. "let me?"

you spread your legs in response.

his mouth between your legs is wet and slippery. your cunt is a wet and open gash between your legs, weeping its blood, your slick, into his licking mouth. he's gentle, flicking your engorged clit with the slick muscle before gently wrapping his mouth around it.

one of his hands glides up the bed and you immediately let him enterlace your fingers, gripping onto him hard as he eats you out impossibly slow. he's looking up at you as he does, and you widen your legs as far as they'll go for him, feel the lips of your sex part under the insistent pressure of his lips and tongue.

you don't look away, holding his hand as you look down at him licking between your folds, delving his tongue deep between them. your mouth drops when he pushes it against your hole, trembling when he starts to lick it inside you. deep and broad strokes.

"eddie, i-" you can't finish the sentence, overwhelmed.

he comes up, his mouth wet and red from your juices and you feel the cool metal of his guitar pick necklace glide between your breasts as he lowers himself on top of you, melding your bodies.

he sees your eyes on the necklace and his shoulders are hitching in the next moment, as he distangles it from around his neck and through the mess of his hair.

you hold your breath, tears pricking as he places it around your neck. fingering it where it rests in your clavicle. "you look good with a little me on you."

your eyes water and you don't try to push back the tears as you spread your thighs around his waist. lift your hips to aid his gentle rocking between your legs. "you've always been on me." you swallow. "in me. i-in my heart. always."

he rests his forehead against yours, both of you holding your breath as the spongy head of him prods at your entrance, gliding between the slick folds and pressing against that tiny hole. it opens for him, as always.

"fuck." he sighs as he slides in. slides home. your body welcoming his inside it easily. "you're imprinted on my f-fucking soul, honey. drove me crazy that i couldn't show it to you."

you grip his back, feeling the muscles flex with the movement of your bodies swaying on the mattress. you're meeting his thrusts, moving your body with his, toes curling at his sides where they dangle around his moving hips.

"never- never gonna push you away again." you gasp, overwhelmed. this feels so good. intense. "dont let me eddie- need you. need you so much."

he shakes his head, sweaty forhead against yours. he's pressed so close to you, you can feel the sticky sweat between your bodies making your skin slip and slide against eachother. your cunt is making wet sounds around his cock filling you over and over.

"not gonna let you." he moans against your mouth, kissing you hard. he's punching the breath out of your lungs with each thrust. "you're mine. you hear me? mine the second you locked eyes with me in homeroom, mine the minute you approached me after school behind the bleachers, mine the second you let me inside you, mine the second you stepped through that door and told me to make love to you."

"eddie." you whine and pant, gripping yourself to him tight. "eddie im gonna-"

"do it, baby." he looks between your moving bodies where his flesh is steadily meeting yours, watches his cock glide in and out. watches the shine of your need for him coat his cock when he slides out and grunts when he thrusts back home. "you cum on me you're not getting away from this, from us. the moment you wet my cock you're saying you're mine. no going back."

his lips mesh against the lobe of your ear, grinding his pelvis hard into yours. hes so fucking deep.

"so. fucking. do. it." each word punctuated with a deep thrust.

your world whites out as you cum around him, shaking and moaning and clinging onto him. its the biggest thing you've ever felt. your heart feels like it can't even contain all its feeling. Its too much.

"im yours." you cry out, soaking his cock. "im yours, im yours."

he's fucking you harder now, moving against you desperately as he chases his own pleasure. "yeah you are." he moans, his fingers looping through his necklace around your neck and pulling so your head it tugged forward until your foreheads are knocking. "about time you caught up."

when he cums, you both moan. the warm splash of it filling your milking walls. "god your pussy." he whines, "it was made for me."

you wrap your arms around him. both of you anchoring the other.

"i was made for loving you, I think."

#ask #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie spaghetti #stranger things x reader #stranger things season 4 spoilers #stranger things x you #eddie x reader

[moonlit-stay]

WHEN I TELL YOU MY JAW HIT THE FUCKING FLOOR????

You know I have to run my fucking mouth now...

These two images make me think of sex on a beach with Sungchan...

You're staying at a secluded beach resort with Sungchan for your anniversary, spending the day enjoying the warm rays of sun and the equally warm, clear water until the sun begins to set. Sitting in the sand, pulled close into Sungchan's side, your head leaning against his shoulder as you both watch the setting sun decorate the sky in orange hues.

Even after the sun has set completely and darkness has replaced the orange glow, you stay pressed into Sungchan's side. You feel him gently draw shapes where his hand rests against your waist and it causes goosebumps to rise against the surface of your skin. He turns to press open-mouthed kisses along your neck, and you let out a soft, involuntary moan at his unexpected actions.

He smirks in response, as he always does. He loves how easy it is for him to get you right where he wants you, working you up so you're just as needy as he is. Seeing you walk around in nothing but your bikini all day had Sungchan's head spinning, and for most of the day, he had to do everything in his power to keep his hands to himself and not fuck you in a public place in broad daylight.

Now that it was dark and the beach was empty, he saw no reason to hold himself back any longer, not that he would be able to even if he tried. You just look so good and the only thing he could think about is how good it would feel to have you bouncing on his cock as his broad, defined back presses into the cool sand.

He moves to press his lips to yours, pulling you on top of him as he leans back into the sand. He lets out a breath when his warm skin hits the cool sand, and you use this opportunity to lick into his mouth. Sungchan's hands grip at your hips, hastily guiding you to grind on him. He's already so hard and you almost break the kiss to ask him just how long he's been thinking about this.

He lets you take over and continue to roll your hips against his as he leans his head back into the sand. You watch his Adam's apple bob with every groan that leaves his lips and you can't help but attach your lips to his neck.

It wasn't long after Sungchan felt your lips on his skin that he was moving to pull his swim shorts down just enough before pulling your bikini bottoms to the side. His mind goes blank when he feels you sink down on him, taking all of him until your hips are flush against his.

He knows there's no way you're gonna be able to keep quiet, not when he's fucking up into you with so much force he has to keep a tight grip on your hips so you don't fall backwards, but he can't find it in him to care when he's finally getting what he's craved all day.

These two images make me think of sex in the water with Sungchan...

You stand on the shore, admiring how beautiful your surroundings are before you redirect your attention to your boyfriend. You watch as Sungchan swims through the crystal clear water, the sun highlighting the definition in his muscles with every move he makes.

Eventually he takes notice of your staring and motions you over with a quick nod of his head. When you shake your head in response, he slowly makes his way over to you, a shit eating grin plastered across his face. You slowly start backing away from the shoreline, immediately knowing what he's planning. For every step you take backwards, he takes two steps forward, and as his torso slowly emerges from the water, you have to fight yourself to stay focused as you watch the water cascade down his toned body as he steps closer to land.

When he steps into the shallow part of the water, you book it. Sprinting along the shore towards the general direction of where you both are staying. You're fast, but Sungchan's faster, and he catches you within minutes, throwing you over his shoulder and walking back towards the shore. Loud laughter leaves you both as he listens to your pleas, feeling you cling to him as he steps back into the shallows.

He moves you from your spot on his shoulder to against his chest, holding you against him as he walks you both deeper into the water. You continue clinging to him, mumbling under your breath that he's mean, and he just chuckles in response.

Once you both are fully submerged, he pulls your thighs to wrap around his waist. He loves having you this close, especially in a public setting like this. It gives him a sense of peace knowing you're safe in his arms.

Occasionally, he feels you squirm in his hold or readjust your hold around his neck, and every time you do, he feels your core brush against his length. He knows you don't mean to, and for a minute he almost feels bad for how painfully hard he's getting, but he just can't help it. Especially when he feels the amount of heat radiating from your core, something he didn't notice until now.

You feel him resting hot and heavy right under your ass, and you pull your head away from his shoulder to look at him. When you look into his eyes, you can tell he's feeling slightly apologetic, and you move to kiss up his neck until you reach his ear.

"It's okay," you whisper against the shell of his ear, loosening your grip around him so your body drops a little bit and your core comes into direct contact with his length. "Let me help you, Channie."

His head drops to your shoulder as he lets out a groan. He feels your hand slip into his swim shorts before you gently wrap your hand around him. His hips buck into you involuntarily and you pull him out of his swim shorts before pulling your bikini bottoms to the side and letting him push into you.

An overwhelming amount of pride washes over Sungchan when he bottoms out and fully realizes the situation. No matter where the two of you are located and how inappropriate the setting may be, you're always there to help him with all of his needs.

These two images make me think of sex in a hammock with Sungchan...

You follow Sungchan out of where you're staying, making your way over to one of the hammocks. You watch as Sungchan crawls onto the hammock, settling in until he's comfortable, and once he is, he pats his lap. You get the hint, taking Sungchan's hand as support as you swing one of your legs over his waist to rest against his side. Once your straddling him, you lean forward to rest against his chest. You feel his arms wrap around you momentarily before he helps you pull the blanket you brought with you over both your forms.

You both stay like that for awhile, enjoying the soothing sound of the wind rustling the leaves of the trees and the waves crashing against the shore.

When the ache of how you're resting against your boyfriend settles into your joints, you lightly tap his chest to let him know you're moving. The arm he has around you tightens as he rolls you both onto your sides so you're facing each other. You let out a sigh of relief, feeling the ache in your joints fade as you nuzzle further into Sungchan's embrace.

A smile tugs at Sungchan's features when he has you tucked under his chin, your hair tickling his skin as he rests his chin on the top of your head. He pulls you closer and you throw one of your legs over his hip, feeling one of his arms move to rest against your lower back before pulling you impossibly closer.

"I can't get any closer, Channie." You quietly chuckle to him, feeling him hug you tighter in response.

"Actually, you could..." He trails off, and when you move to look up at him, you're met with his famous smirk.

You lightly smack his arm, earning a laugh from him, but this doesn't stop him from slowly rolling his hips into yours.

The logical part of your brain is telling you to tell your boyfriend to stop, that you two could easily walk back to where you're staying and continue there, but when he presses open-mouthed kisses to your sweet spot, the logical part of your brain clocks out.

He moves slowly, taking his time to work you up as he kisses along your neck. You feel his hand leave the bend of your knee that's against his hip and glide in between you two. You let out a loud moan that has you slapping a hand over your mouth when his thumb rubs harsh circles against your bundle of nerves.

"Gotta be quiet for me, baby." He whispers, you feel him smirk against your skin and you have to fight the urge to smack him. "Can't have anyone knowing what I'm doing to my pretty girl."

He carefully works you out of your shorts, setting them behind him in the hammock before doing the same with his own. He gently pulls you away from the crook of his neck, and when he sees your pretty blown out pupils, all his plans to move slow fly out the window.

He quickly scans the area around the hammock as far as his eyes will allow, and when he doesn't see a single soul, he lays flat on his back and pulls you on top of him so you're straddling him once again.

You both know you shouldn't be doing this here, the risk of getting caught somewhat high as the night was still young and the sun hasn't fully set.

Sungchan doesn't dwell on that thought for long once your warm, wet walls are wrapped tightly around him, making such pretty noises only for him to hear. You, on the other hand, find it impossible to pay that thought any mind when he's hitting spots deep enough inside you to make your eyes roll to the back of your head.

-

Listen, I've known for a long time how this man is built, but there is truly no way I'll ever simply, just, get used to it

I truly do not know how to comprehend these photos and I'm losing my fucking mind.

I was already in Sungchan brain rot prior to these images😔

I need him so bad

#moon's multi rants <8 #riize smut #riize sungchan smut

[hisaame]

ngh fem!reader sucking kuronushi off while he practices playing shamisen... imagine as hes abt to cum he changes from perfect pitch singing to short pants between words... then after he cums hes back to his perfect pitch singing again... ngh

Oh my GOD!??! I LOVE THIS REQUEST???? literally thank you so muhc ??!!? aaaahhh i hope this is okay!!

╰˒ˏˏ ➻„a broken voice, shaky breath,

,, but wont stop playing.” — kuronushi

⧽➽ kuronushi x fem!reader

[nsfw!!] ,, warnings: bj+hj, slight praise, choking and gagging (ON dick, hes not gonna kill u dw), readers prns are she/her!

A beautiful melody could be heard, along witha heavenly voice from no other than—kuronushi. His fingers danced along the strings of the shamisen, occasionally twitching as his voice would occasionally crack. His pretty lips opened to let his voice sing along to the melody of his instrument. But it was extremely hard for him to so so. Specifically because, you were there to distract him.

The belt of his kimono(?) was undone, the obi cord set aside, as well as his hat, settled aside. His wide, knee length pants were down to his midthigh, just like his undergarments. His cock was let free, erect and responsive. Thats what you were working on right now—well, your mouth and hands were.

Kuronushi held the shamisen, trying not to get too distracted. But it was his idea anyway—he had requested you to be there with him, perhaps it would make him practice easier, having your presence here, pleasuring him. It was his fault he was so distracted, how good you were with your lips and tongue, kitten licking his tip before putting the whole length in until the head of his cock nudges the back of your throat, his melodic voice slipping a moan between his lips, but he immediately goes back to singing. The pleasure makes it really, really hard.

But you only decided to make things worse, bobbing your head while you had your hand at the bottom part of his cock, to where your lips couldnt reach, your fingers made up for it. You would let occasional gagging noises, which seemed to distract him even more. He's messed up several times at this point. But he wouldn't dare to tell you to stop—because he wants you to keep going.

"G—good girl...", he'd moan, unable to let himself fully try to ignore you. "Keep going, and ill reward you once I'm done." The way he'd praise you made you clench around nothing, his words just arousing you more, if possible. Your other hand that wasnt around his dick was on his thigh, giving occasional rubs and pats, maybe in hopes to calm him down, or distract him more. Who knows?

At some point he does attempt thrusting his hips towards your face, trying to get himself off in your warm mouth. You're surprised he's managing to do this, despite the fact he looks like he's having a hard time. His voice would occasionally go high pitch, tilting his head back as one of his hands tightened around the long neck of the shamisen. You could barely hear the song he was singing through the various moans and whimpers he lets out.

"fuck, fuck, fuck..." he whines, trying to go back to singing and playing the instrument, unfortunately failing. You guessed he was close by the way his reactions and responses seemed more intense, so your actions sped up. You pulled back slightly, having only the head of his cock in your mouth, sucking on it, before taking him fully again.

That's when you felt his body tense up, feeling warm liquid shoot down your throat, making you groan and gag just a bit, but you made the effort to swallow it all. Well, not everything, since you couldn't, so some dripped down your chin, to which Kuronushis hand went to grab your chin, his thumb wiping his own cum off and sticking his thumb in your mouth then, making you lick in clean—swallowing once more.

Then he pat your head, motioning you to keep going. Well, thats what you took it as. Calming his softening cock down with slow strokes while he finally manages to hold his shamisen correctly, his fingers dancing over the strings and his voice creating the prettiest music. A melody your so fond of hearing from Kuronushi.

You're gonna be waiting a while for that reward he promised you...

♡

#kuronushi #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche smut

[jaegerbby]

➳ crude intentions

--͙[keigo takami x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 2280

╰┈➤ rundown; just about everyone loves hawks, except you.

╰┈➤ caution; scumbag! fratboy! hawks, noncon undertones, boob job (they are described as small), size kink, use of bitch, hair pulling, facial, toxic dynamic, mentions of sex with other girls.

hawks- keigo!

it is keigo to you.

who wants to fuck your titties but they are so little.

somehow, he has you stripped bare on his sheets despite not knowing if his door is locked.

it is nothing new to a group of frat boys!

they fuck on a daily, you heard about the countless girls that come to this house in particular. how did you let yourself become one of them?

truthfully, you never had a choice to begin with.

keigo is too big, he is a lot bigger than you and right now you can see it more than ever. he has to hold his weight off your abdomen to avoid crushing you. not that it is difficult when he is so strong.

you already had his mouth all over the flesh of your tits. he has sucked and licked and left the darkest marks. now his cock lays thick and heavy on your sternum.

at one point, you cried and cried but you learnt that crying does not fix anything. it does not stop anything. your head is tilted away, his cock is so long it brushes against your throat.

"you don't have much to work with." he laughs like it is some funny joke. he says it so casually as if he is not violating you for the nth time.

"some of the chicks i fucked." he whistles "their tits were huge, were practically swallowing my dick." you want to vomit.

you want to throw up all over him. you absolutely hate him, you despise him. while other girls thought about getting fucked in 107 positions by hawks, you thought of 107 ways to murder keigo.

the way you glare up at him does nothing to help your case. all he does is grin because it makes him harder. his eyes grow hooded, rough fingers tangling at the roots of your hair. his grip grows tighter and tighter.

you did not want to give him the satisfaction of a reaction but he binds the strands so tight you swear he would rip them out. you shriek, just what he was waiting for. his expression is all too pleased.

"don't get jealous, baby. no one could compare to you. you're my favourite." that means nothing. you do not want that, you do not want to be anything to him.

he gives your hair one firm tug before releasing it. the throbbing in your head has your face contorting in pain. his callous thumb swipes over your lips, applying pressure until you let him in. he does not stop there, no, he never does.

instead he is shoving the digit so deep in your mouth that you gag. it hits the back of your throat so aggressively tears prick your eyes. his eyes widen in a crazed way, taking your jaw into his hold.

"listen to me, stick your tongue out and push your tits together." his thighs strain on either side of you. his cock is red and aching where it bobs on your chest. it begs for attention. from the swollen mushroom tip to the vein throbbing along the underside.

you swallow hard, your arms coming up to push together the mounds on your chest but they are so little they only form a small valley for him. keigo breathes shakily, a curse leaving his mouth.

you expect some smart comment but he surprisingly says nothing. his free hand holds the thick base of his hefty erection and he squeezes hard, teeth gritting. pre cum drips from his slit onto your chest and it is hot compared to your skin.

"stick your fucking tongue out." his hand fists the pillow beside your head as he slightly hunches over you. you do not want to stick your tongue out, you do not want to taste him. he always wants with you, he does not know when to stop. he is already desecrating your body so why does he want more than that?

you hesitate, a sharp breath leaving you before your tongue slips out and your mouth is slightly open. you are terrified. your breasts do not offer much. you would not be surprised if he decides to shove his cock down your throat instead. you desperately hope he does not.

"good." he chokes on the sticky saliva pooling in his mouth "good bitch." good girl, he wanted to say good girl. you deserve better. someone a million times better than him but he will not let anyone else have you.

he presses his tip to your wet muscle, the salty tastes filling your mouth. you lay there, a million things on your mind as he shifts his hips to drag his cock between your barely there chest.

his bulky thighs flex and he borderline whimpers while humping his hips and dragging his cock along your sternum. he relishes in the softness of the flesh that is brushing the sides of his length.

you can only look up at him, with something close to disdain. there are a lot of willing girls with so much more to offer, why does keigo do this to you? his hand roughly caresses your cheek before resting beside your head.

he anchors himself and his thrusts pick up. he humps his aching erection, his leaky cock pulsing along you. he groans endlessly, his lips reddened from all the biting. "feel so fuckin good."

his head presses into your twitching tongue with every fuck of his hips and saliva leaks from your mouth because you do not dare to close it. the web of liquid only growing messier.

above you, keigo is gorgeous. that is incontestable. everyone knows it. his abs flex, relaxing and contracting as he has his way with you. pecs tight and full, his biceps are bulging.

and his face, he looks like an angel.

he looks like he is sculpted from marble and his mere existence is a blessing. too bad he knows it all too well.

in a different world, at a different time when keigo did not act or do the things he did, you would have been in love with him. it is too late for that in this life though.

"you're so fucking annoying." his voice breaks, movements growing more flurried and desperate until your body moves under the weight of his thrusts.

keigo finds you unbearable. unbearably kind, unbearably sweet, unbearably pretty.

you are unbearable because keigo wants you the most in the world and he cannot have you. it is his fault at the end of it.

"why does it have to be you?" he whines. why are you the only one who renders him into a love sick fool? why are you the only one he wants?

more cum leaks onto your tongue, leaving slick strands every time he pulls back. you wonder the same thing every single waking moment. why you? you wonder what awful thing you did in a past life to be here now.

keigo is breathless. you look good like this, you look stunning with syrupy liquid on your tongue as long as it is his.

your hair is all messy and you are glassy eyed but you do not cry. in fact, you have not cried in a while. keigo wants so badly to see it again.

you are so pretty. too pretty and too good and you're letting him fuck your little tits and he thinks every time he sees you, you are more gorgeous than the last. every position he has you in, makes him want you more.

you are like a drug. you are needed in his system permanently, he craves that euphoric feeling only you can provide. he needs you or he will withdraw and when he withdraws he feels like he will die.

he needs you in larger doses, he needs more and more from you.

and you, well you think of him as a parasite. one that has buried himself under your skin and drains every ounce of life from you.

keigo brushes your hair from your face, his head dragging along your tongue that is so warm and wet and feels so perfect. strands of his cum cover it, some leaking onto your chest as he shoves his cock along your tits.

he does not want anyone else the way he wants you. his balls mush against your abdomen, full and heavy and keigo cannot stop the way his moans are coated in desperation.

you are so little under him, his cock looks too big for you. it is too much for you but you always take him so well.

"you mess with my head. you're too fucking pretty. why do i only want to fuck you?" he rambles but it is not what he wants to say. it is insanely difficult to put together his words when he is around you. maybe that is why he fucked up this badly.

his large palm spans across your chest, over his cock that is incessantly throbbing. the veins along it pulse and the purplish head aches.

"i only want to be around you." his face contorts in pain at his own admission. he fucks his hips faster almost to distract him from what he finally managed to say. his heated cock strokes your skin.

the soft flesh of your chest and having you under him like this has his hips stuttering. his muscles tense, every single one defined as his entire body trembles and he grips the base of his cock.

he jerks himself quickly and roughly, thick strands of cum shoot onto your tongue before he aims his tip to spew it all over your face. he continues to stroke his cock while runny cum streams down your features.

you squeeze your eyes shut. you absolutely hate him. you release your breasts, breathing heavily as you try to gain some composure.

his body is still overtaken by the sensation of cumming. keigo pants above you, his pink lips parting. he will never get sick of seeing you with his cum all over your face. although he knows you do not like it.

he shakes his cock before shifting off of you. with his back facing you, you see bright red wings tattooed on his skin that definitely do not belong to an angel.

he reaches for his phone while you shakily breathe. he looks at it for a moment then drops it to the sheets. you have the urge to shove him away when he turns to you, his hand trailing between your legs.

"i got training soon but i have time to get you off." you meet his eyes, there is not an ounce of remorse in them. you push his hand away but the only reason it moves is because he did not expect it.

"don't touch me." you sit up, wiping cum from your face and disgusts coats your expression. you feel repulsive. you desperately need to be anywhere but near him.

keigo grips your arm before you can think of leaving. he leans in with furrowed brows and a clenched jaw. "what the fuck? i can touch you, i can touch you whenever i want to." his gaze is accusatory as if you were the wrong one.

"that's why my cum is all over your face. that's why i fuck you almost every day because i can touch you. don't fucking tell me not to." his hands cup your cheeks to pull your mouth to his. he wastes no time in shoving his tongue in and roughly moving his lips along yours.

almost like a reminder, almost like he needed to lay claim for his sake more than yours. he relents despite your lack of reciprocation and the tenseness in your body.

he pulls back with spit coating his lips. keigo gazes over your face, he gently brings your figure closer to him. "you know how i get when you talk like that so stop saying those things" he softly says although his words are covered in severity.

you feel encompassed by him. he is all you can smell and see. he leans in again to brush his lips over yours, fingers teasing your inner thigh. "come watch me train." his voice is deep.

"let me fuck you now and then you can show those girls who has me." he muses like having him was a blessing. like having him meant something.

you did not want him. you never wanted him. he has not seen you cry in so long but right now you think you just might break. he guides you right back into his sheets, pressing your legs to your chest as his stiffened cock prods your sodden cunt.

keigo gets to take and take from you without consequence. he gets to act like this is all okay. you have to let him fuck and cum and do what he wants with you.

then, he takes you to training with him, dressed in his clothes and smelling like him. he parades you around like a trophy to all the girls he already fucked.

you can still feel him on your skin and it makes you sick.

they keep talking and looking at you with so much anger, like you took something from them but you are the only one who is being taken apart.

they will not stop talking about hawks, hawks who is constantly flashing you smiles when he makes a goal. who comes over every time to kiss you and hold you like he means it.

like he has not done all the things that haunt you.

keigo makes you sick.

first fic :D

#🩷.bnha #hawks smut #pro hero hawks #bnha keigo #keigo smut #hawks x reader #keigo takami #keigo x reader #san.stories #tw.toxic relationship #tw.noncon #tw.dark content #📁.size kink #bnha smut #mha smut

[b33zlebubz]

RECKLESS ABANDON--------

CHAPTER SEVEN - dogfight

TASK FORCE 141 X READER (PLATONIC)

PREV CHAPTER || MASTERLIST || AO3 LINK || NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: gender neutral reader, angst, fluff, slow burn found family, PTSD, trauma bonding, kidnapping, reader is a foster kid in high school, family drama, blood, violence, guns

"After your life falls apart at the seams very early on, you work hard to keep the small amount of peace you still have. Foster care is rough, work is draining, school is a drag...but you eventually find yourself in a good place. All of that quickly goes to waste, however, when your family's unfinished business finally finds its way back to you."

Suddenly, everything is a blur of red lights and yelling and running.

Price ushers you to your room with a stern: "go go go."  You grab your pack and shove what you can into it as he guards the door, handgun firm in his grasp as he shouts orders to soldiers as they dart up and down the hallway grabbing gear.  Your heart pounds in your ears and you barely have time to zip up your rucksack before he's urging you out again.

Sandwiched between everyone with your head ducked down, you run.  Gunshots ring out over your head and under your feet, and you yelp whenever Ghost grabs your arm and yanks you away from a sniper hit just as you're leaving the building; urging you along.  Price is yelling.  Soap is yelling.  Nikolai is with your small group—sharp, Russian orders shouted over the loud buzzing of a helicopter as you're all but pushed inside.

It's off the ground the second your back hits the wall.  Suddenly, Price is in front of you again—but you can barely see him through the panic that floods your senses.

"Breathe.  Deep breaths, kid.  C'mon," he says as he coaxes a headset onto your head.  You try to help, but your hands are too shaky.  The others are yelling, and Ghost is leaning out of the side of the helicopter as it bobs and dips, returning Shadow Company fire with abandon.  The sound, as well as the raspiness of Price's voice, are both muffled by the earphones around your ears until Price's voice comes through on the comms.  "You're safe with us.  Y'hear me?"

You swallow the bile that threatens to rise in your throat, squeezing your eyes shut as you try to force your breathing to regulate.  You nod, but your hands squeeze at his sleeves anyway—knuckles white as you use his presence to ground yourself.

"Okay,"  you force out.  "Y-yeah.  I hear you."

"Good.  Keep breathin','' he looks over his shoulder to where Ghost, Soap, and Gaz are all fending off the others.  "Does anyone have a visual?"

"They've got their own helos after us, sir!"  Gaz shouts.  "Things might get ugly!"

"Helos?!"

"There's five of 'em!"  Soap clarifies, reloading his weapon.  His arm is bleeding, but he doesn't seem to notice.  "The cunt isn't fucking around this time!  It's either we go down, or they do!"

"Yeah, well, that's not fuckin' happening,"  Price all but growls, bracing you against him as the helocopter lurches to the side.  "Give 'em hell!"

"Yes, sir!"

You press yourself back against the wall, watching as everything goes to shit around you.  A line of fire dents the wall of the helo right by your head and you yelp.  "Price—"

As if on cue, there's an explosion. 

You're knocked sideways.  Your vision blanks whenever your head hits metal, a ringing in your ears exploding from your senses.  In a split second of quick thinking, your hand wraps around a metal railing as the helo tilts.  Curses and yells of surprise fill the small space as everyone scrambles to the side.

Except one.

"Soap!"

He slips with a yell and you grab his wrist before he can slip out the side opening.  You watch boxes and supplies slide out and into the snow maybe twenty stories below as the Earth below you tilts and spins.   Shocked, he looks up to meet your gaze—your eyes meeting his with nothing but sheer panic as he lifts his other arm to grab your wrist in both hands, legs flailing. 

Nikolai is quick to right the helo again and you're launched back onto the floor at Soap's side.  Disoriented, you pant as your shaky arms pull yourself upright to meet Soap's gaze.  He's shocked, eyes wide as he blinks with you—as if he really didn't expect you to save him.

He nods his thanks before Price pulls you to your feet again.

"We lost Gaz!"  Nikolai's voice explodes over the comms.

"Fuck's sake!"

"Again?!"

"We'll have to go back—"

"No time!"  Nikolai calls over his shoulder.  "You want to stay alive—no turning back.  Not now."

"Gaz,"  you huff, scrambling out of Price's hold.  "No—no we gotta go back!"

Price grabs you before you can get too close to the opening.  "There's no time, kid!"

"We can't leave him behind!"

"We have to!"

You shove yourself free just as there's a loud blast and the helo lurches again.  This time, you're too late to grab something.

There's yelling before there's silence.  A bright light and the feeling of something large knocking into you before there's nothing but blinding white and bright blue sky.  Your headset flies off your head, getting swept away in the wind as you watch the helo spin out of control from afar.

You're falling.

You're screaming, you think, but the ringing in your ears drowns out everything else.  Your body spins in the air as you flail and air rushes into your eyes and lungs.

The ground gets closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Then, your body breaks ice with a smash and everything is loud again.  The water roars as the breath is punched from your lungs.  You know you should move, flail, kick your legs—but your body doesn't respond.  You watch the bubbles fly past the dog tags around your neck as the light of the surface sinks past your fingers.  

Calm.  Quiet.  

Your body goes limp.  For the first time in weeks, the panic ebbs way to peace as the freezing cold numbs your senses. You think, maybe, you could sleep like this—silent, undisturbed, as your eyes sink shut and your nerves die.

Then, a hand grabs the front of your jacket, and you're yanked to the surface.

Simon gasps when he breaches the ice with you in his arms.  Not that it supplies him with much air to begin with; as the sopping wet cloth of his mask seems to choke him with each breath.  Waterboarding, a torture he's grown very familiar with over the years—and it sends an extra surge of adrenaline through his veins that helps him drag you up and onto the ice before climbing up beside you.

He turns on his side and it feels like the world tilts with him as he sputters and coughs up water.  The ringing in his ears is bright and loud as it seems to leak into his vision, blurring everything into smudges of white and black that are nearly incomprehensible.  Be it blind panic, or just his natural instinct to get up, keep moving—drilled into his brain after years and years of experience—but he shoves himself to his knees anyway.

He hears what sounds like coughing, gagging.  Panting.  His eyes flit over just as the sharpness in his vision returns and you're the second thing he sees: on your hands and knees, curled in on yourself at his side as you spit bile, blood, and water onto the ice with an arm curled around your stomach.  It's then that everything rushes back to him.  The alarms, the gunfire, the helo, Price's shouting, the Shadow Company.

He reaches out with a hoarse and quiet: "Kid..."

Your breathing doesn't settle.  Instead, it seems to speed up as you scramble backwards and the ice cracks underneath you.  Your movements shake, arms and legs dumb, slow, and useless as you force them to move you backwards; away from him.  Blood coats your face and your eyes are bleary and unfocussed.  He recognizes the look you give him—one of panic, confusion.  It's identical to how you looked at him whenever you first met, with a dead man's blood splattered on your clothes.

"No,"  you mutter, your breath coming in fast puffs.  "No no no no."

Simon stumbles over, grabbing your shoulder, "Easy now—"

Startled, you kick him away.  "Get off me!"

"Keep your head on, kid, it's me!"

"Fuck off!"

In a split-second decision of disparity, Simon reaches up and yanks off his mask.  He grabs your shoulders, keeping you still as you freeze—the figure of your nightmares gone and replaced, instead, by something more human.  Something sopping wet and equally as freezing.  He watches the fear in your face give way to confusion, and then the confusion give way to shock.

"It's me,"  he huffs out between breaths, the cold air stinging his skin,  "It's me."

He watches your mis-matched pupils scan over his face, the furrow in your brows smoothing over as a rivulet of blood drips down your temple from the gash on your forehead.  There’s a split on your lip, too, and all the blood mixes together as it drips off your chin.  Simon can’t imagine he looks much better as you take in his facial features for the first time.

Then, he watches your eyelids flutter as your head lulls forwards, and he catches it in his hand.

“Don’t,”  he commands, immediately shifting into action again.  “Stay with me."

“How…”  You rasp as he turns, leaning you against his geared chest to free his hands—each breath fogging up into the freezing air as he keeps you in a sitting position.  He reaches for the comm on his shoulder.  With shaky hands, he switches through channels until he gets to one that's dead silent.  He swallows thickly before he speaks.

“Watcher, this is Bravo 0-7, do you copy?”

The radio sputters.  The only thing that greets him is the silence of the snow and your shaky breathing.  He tries again, more urgently.

“Ghost to Watcher.  We fell out the helo.  Kid’s injured bad do you copy?”

Again, silence.  Ghost hears your breathing hitch and he purses his lips together.  Just as dread begins to settle deep in Ghost’s stomach—a voice comes loud and clear through the speakers.

"Watcher to Ghost.  I hear you.  Any word on Price?"  

You let out a sigh of relief at the sound of Laswell's voice.  If Ghost didn’t have a probably-broken rib, he’d do the same.

"No,"  Ghost grunts.  "We fell in a lake.  Helo is nowhere in sight."

"Are you injured?"

Ghost tastes copper in his mouth when he breathes.  "I'm upright."

"And the kid?"

You go to speak,  "I'm fine—"

"Hit and in shock,"  Ghost interrupts.  "Probably concussed."

Then, Price's out-of-breath voice cuts through the comms.  There's shuffling and other voices in the background.  “Ghost, this is Price.  You’re safe?"

This time, Ghost does let out a breath.  “Yes, sir.”

“Good.  We’ve crashed but Laswell's sent a team out to grab us.  We’re coming back for you two, you hear me?”

You grab Ghost's arm, "But Gaz—"

“Loud and clear, sir.”  Ghost breathes, “loud and clear.”

“Good man.  Get to safety, stay warm.  We'll be there A.S.A.P."

"Solid copy."

And, with that, all was silent aside for the sound of you and Ghost's combined breathing.  He places a hand on your shoulder, easing you back to look up at him.  "You still with me?"

Your eyes squeeze shut.  You shake your head as if trying to shake something out of it, your countenance flushed and dazed from the freezing cold.  He rubs your shoulders, trying to restore some warmth to your body.

“Keep talkin’.  Tell me what hurts.”

“Can't…”  You swallow thickly.  Your hands fumble to grab at your leg.  “Fuck, c-can't think…I can’t…”

“Stand?”

“Yeah.”

"You fell out of a helicopter, Mutt.  It would stand to reason if you were a bit shaken,”  he huffs, shifting into a kneeling position with his back to you.  “On my back.  We gotta keep moving.”

The shock fading a little from your system, you slowly push yourself upright enough to settle against his back.  

"Mutt?"  You question as your arms fall around his neck.  His gloved hands grab under your knees, keeping you secured to his back as he hypes himself up to stand.  

"That's what Soap called you, ain't it?"  He breathes as he stands.  "Some mutt the C.I.A. dragged in."

"Don't tell me…don't tell me that's what I'm stuck with now, after all this."

He scoffs a little, righting himself.  "What sticks, sticks, kid."

He barely takes a step forwards before his leg unexpectedly gives.  You gasp whenever he stumbles, falling to a knee in the snow.  

"Bloody hell…"

"Ghost?"  You prompt, worried, as he breathes in and out.  The world spins sound for a moment, and his eyes go dazed.  Your voice, however, pulls him out of it and your bloodied hand tugging at his ruined vest grounds him back to reality.  "Ghost if you're shot, we're fucked."

"I'm not hit,"  he wheezes, a bold-faced lie.  He's been hit in the calf in all the chaos, but it missed any major arteries so he chooses to ignore it for now.  Instead, he forces himself shakily back to his feet again.  He takes a few wobbly steps before he's walking steadily once more, his limbs feeling heavy as they waft through the freezing snow.  "Just old.  Can't take a fall like I used to."

You let out a breath that fogs up into the air, quivering from the cold as water drips from everything.

“Okay…okay, good,”  you breathe, your hold around him tightening.  “Where are we going?”

Simon looks up.  The cold bites at his bare face and he squints through the eye black and water that clings to his lashes to look up at the snow and the trees around them.  He swallows thickly, his mind cycling through S.E.A.R. training as he fights to stay focused, get to safety.

Safety.  Shelter.

You needed shelter.  

His gaze sweeps the empty forests with a newfound determination now that he has a goal to focus on; something to work towards.  His footsteps slow to a stop as he looks around, the only sound in the forest being the crunching of snow and the buzzing of a far-off A-10 that makes his stomach twist.  

But you were alive—and that’s all that mattered to him.

So, he picks up his pace.  He presses onwards.

“I don’t know,” He huffs.  “But we'll find somewhere."

@brokenpieces-72 @warenai @pertinentpostmortem @kaoyamamegami @hayleybarnesx @nostalgialeech @scuftryo @0alk0msan @synthe4u @stunkbiggu @bebobeboben @enfppixie @lyd14k4y @tlkonthestr33t @raye2000 @shinchanboi 

#kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #john price #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty x reader #call of duty reader insert #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Does absence make the heart grow fonder or more frustrated? You and Bradley aren't quite sure where you stand with each other, and you're both apprehensive about how it will feel to open up communication again. And while it's hard for you to stop blaming yourself, Bradley is becoming aware of all the ways he hasn't done enough.

Warnings: Angst, swearing

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley picked at his dinner for the third night in a row. He sat between Nat and Bob, and both of them clearly knew something was wrong. But Bradley hadn't been able to talk about it. What was he supposed to say, anyway? Admit that he had been acting like sex with his wife was a chore? Tell them that he had made you cry the night you got promoted? Disclose that you had slept on the bathroom floor to get away from him? Announce he was that asshole who got his sperm tested without telling you?

As if that wasn't enough, Bradley could still hear the hurt in your voice when you yelled at him about the test results in the kitchen at home. The memory of it caused him a physical pain in his chest. It was an ache that he knew would be there until you spoke to him again. If you spoke to him again. 

"Pass the salt?" Bob asked softly, and Bradley did it automatically and without any emotion. It wasn't Bob's fault that things went down so badly at home. And it wasn't Nat's fault either. But he could barely look at them or talk to them, and he knew he was going to need to start. Because whatever this mission brought, all of them would be doomed with Bradley in this kind of headspace. 

He cleared his throat and said, "This meatloaf is pretty good."

"It's okay," Nat replied. "Nothing's as good as what your wife makes. Think you can talk her into another dinner party when we get home?"

He could only grunt in response before he had to cover his eyes with one hand. 

"Hey," Nat whispered, wrapping her arm around his shoulders. "You're kind of scaring us, Soul Sister. Wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head. "Not in the middle of the mess hall, but thanks, Nat."

"Maybe later? We can sit in the lounge and eat all the candy I brought."

Bradley had to close his eyes against the pain he felt over being an inadequate husband. But he loved his best friend, and he knew he'd probably feel better if he confided in her. "I'll think about it."

Just when he started poking at his dinner again, three young aviators sat down on the other side the table, the biggest one directly across from Bradley. "Hey, old timers," he said in an annoying accent that immediately reminded him of Jake. So these must be the young recruits out of Lemoore. The hotshots that all the admirals were talking about. Bradley just wanted to poke at his food and think about his wife. He didn't really feel like babysitting right now. 

"Hi," Bob responded cheerily, and the three of them laughed. Bradley wanted to tell Bob not to engage with them, but it was too late. The big one, who introduced himself as Slayer, was subtly making fun of Bob's glasses, and Bradley's nerves were already too frayed. 

"Hey, Nat, how about we hang out in the lounge now," he said as he stood with his mostly uneaten tray of dinner. Bradley was exhausted, all he wanted was to be able to fix things with you, and training was starting early tomorrow morning. And he needed to get away from these morons as soon as possible. 

Nat and Bob stood, and followed him to get rid of their trash and trays. "I didn't think you'd actually take me up on my offer so soon. Usually you need a full week to stew in your feelings before you say anything."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "I didn't like the way Slayer was talking to Bob. You know he was making fun of you right? He literally said he'd never fly with a WSO in glasses," he said. 

"Oh. Yeah. I know," Bob replied in an even tone. "Doesn't much matter. I don't have to fly with him. I get to fly with Phoenix. And I always pass my eye exams."

Bradley was in a constant state of inner panic right now. He didn't understand how his two friends could be as calm as they were. Nat was listing off all the candy she had brought with her while Bob nodded placidly and told her that Starbursts were his guilty pleasure. Meanwhile Bradley couldn't decide if he wanted to cry or jump into the ocean. When he thought about you back at home in the craftsman with Tramp, it was hard for him to breathe. You were forgiving, patient and caring, but he wasn't so sure he deserved any of those things from you right now. 

The three of them stopped by Nat's bunk to get some of the candy, but after Bob snagged a few Starbursts, he turned away from the lounge.

"You're not coming?" Nat asked. 

"Nah," Bob replied as he unwrapped a candy. "I'll turn in early. Good night."

Bradley just shook his head. Even though he'd be up all night, typing up email drafts to you on his phone without any wi-fi, at least Bob didn't snore. So he could be miserable in his bed with some peace and quiet. 

"Come on," Nat told him, wrapping her smaller hand around the crook of his elbow and guiding him down the dim, gray corridor toward the lounge. "You'll feel better after we talk."

"I don't know," he replied, swallowing past the pain he felt. When he got into the lounge, he flopped down on his back on the narrow couch, leaving a tiny bit of room for Nat to sit next to his head. "I fucked up."

"I'm assuming by just how fucking miserable you look that something happened with your wife?" She opened a package of Twizzlers and handed him a few strands. 

"We were trying to have a baby," he said softly as he spun the silicone ring around on his finger. It felt weird. It looked weird. He didn't really like it. He missed his gold band that he left at home with you. But this one would be safer; that's why he ordered it with all of his deployment supplies from Amazon. And if anything happened to him, you'd at least have his wedding ring. 

"Yeah," Nat replied, shoving some gummy worms into her mouth. "I know. You already told me that. You're glued to your wife most of the time anyway. If you have a baby, you'll be insufferable." 

"I don't know if she'll let me touch her again let alone have sex."

She paused with more worms in her hand and looked down at him. "Bradshaw, what the hell did you do?"

He rubbed his hand over his face and took a deep breath. "I think I put too much pressure on her. On both of us. We've been trying for five cycles, and I know when her period is due and when she's ovulating...and I realize how bad that sounds when I say it out loud. Because yeah...I kept talking about it nonstop at home. I ruined her fucking promotion night, Nat."

"Oh," she whispered. "You made her feel like she only serves one purpose for you."

"Fuck," he moaned, covering his eyes with his bicep, his Baby Girl paper airplane tattoo pressed to his face. Nat was completely right. In one short sentence, she put all of his wild, rambling thoughts into perspective for him. That was exactly what he had been doing. And when he thought he was being helpful, all he was really doing was reminding you of what wasn't happening. "Nat, I had my sperm tested, and I didn't tell her. She found the paperwork with the results."

She gasped, and he immediately felt a million times worse. He had disappointed his wife, and now his best friend was disgusted with him on your behalf. "Why?" she demanded, tossing the candy bags aside and tugging on him until he was sitting up. "Why didn't you tell her?"

"Fuck, Nat. I thought it would be helpful information to have, you know? If there was something wrong with me, then we could talk to a doctor right away."

"There's nothing wrong with you, is there?" she asked in a monotone voice.

"No," he replied softly, looking at the floor. "And then I didn't want to tell her about it. But she saw the paper, and she blamed herself for everything. Which I somehow knew was exactly what was going to happen. And I should have just fucking told her I was thinking about getting the testing done!"

When he turned to look at his best friend, her eyes looked sad, and her lips were set in a frown. "Oh, Rooster. You're such an idiot."

"I know that!" he snapped back. "I don't need you to say it!"

"Yes, you do," she replied calmly. "You need me to say it. You should have come to me with this weeks ago. Next time you have a dumbass thought, like how you're going to jerk off into a cup and not tell your wife about it, you come talk to me. We'll sort it out."

"I don't know how to fix this. We could barely even look at each other when I left." He closed his eyes and added, "And now I'm here, and she's there."

"What's more important to you? Having a child or loving your wife?"

Whether or not Nat really needed to hear what his answer to that question was, the words made him so physically sick, he had to stand up and walk around the room. "If she's not happy, then nothing else matters," he managed around the tightness in his throat. "It's not worth it. Nothing else is worth it if she's not happy with me."

"Then I think you need to start with that and work from there," Nat told him, standing and wrapping him in a hug.

------------------------------

You skipped work on Monday. You didn't call in. You didn't tell anyone. You just didn't go. You just stayed in bed most of the day with Bradley's wedding ring and a sinking feeling in your heart. Your parents called you on Monday night, probably to see how you were doing without Bradley at home, but you couldn't answer their call. And you weren't honestly sure if things were better or worse without him here. All you knew was you didn't want to go back to work, because you couldn't stop crying. 

But on Tuesday morning, you felt more angry than sad, and that seemed to be the motivation you needed to take a shower. You vigorously scrubbed at your Rooster tattoo until the skin felt fresh and raw. Then you dressed in your uniform and headed out. You hadn't eaten anything since before Bradley left, but it didn't matter. 

You couldn't even decide if you wanted to talk to him or not. He could call you tomorrow, or it could be weeks before you heard from him. But you kept your phone on you just like you always did when he was away. The sickening feeling of what if washed over you. What if something happened, and they needed to reach you. What if Bradley was injured again. What if you never got a chance to talk to him again.

As you made your way to your lab, you already had tears in your eyes. By shutting each other out, you and your husband had only made things worse. You had to stop thinking about him. He probably wasn't even thinking about you at all. His goodbye speech was echoing in your mind, and you could just picture his ring on your nightstand. 

"Fuck," you croaked as you sat down in your usual seat. You thought you were alone, but then you heard Cat's voice behind you.

"Something wrong?"

"No," you muttered, wiping at your eyes. "I'm fine." You didn't even bother to turn and face her, but a second later, she was pulling her chair closer to you than she normally sat. Great. "I told you I was fine."

"Yeah," she replied casually. "And I heard you. But you're terrible at lying. You're too nice to be able to pull it off. Where were you yesterday?"

You stared straight ahead and took a few deep breaths. You weren't feeling particularly nice these days, and you weren't too fond of the way Cat had been treating Jake. Your heart rate was up. The desire to hurt someone, to make them feel miserable like you did, was pulsing through your body. 

"You know what, Cat?" you asked, turning in your seat to face her. You got to watch her neutral expression melt away as you said, "Maybe we should cut the shit."

"What are you talking about?" she asked, very subtly moving away from you. That should have been you cue to cool yourself down, but you just couldn't. 

"I'm talking about the way you're treating Jake like he's trash. Did you make out with him in secret again yesterday? Turn him down for another date?"

"I can't go out with him," she snapped back. "I can't have him around Jeremiah. He's exactly like what I left behind in Maryland."

"You like him!" you nearly shouted. 

"Of course I do," she replied, dark eyes flashing. "But not seriously. He'd be a terrible fit for me now. He's a womanizer. I know he's your friend, but why can't you see that?"

"He wants to change! And he'd probably just adore Jeremiah!" you insisted with narrowed eyes. "For some unknown reason, he really likes you, even though you and your Uncle Hondo are putting him through the fucking ringer!"

Your fists were clenched, and it felt so good to be upset about something other than your relationship with Bradley. But you watched Cat's expression turn to panic. 

"You know about Hondo?" she asked softly. 

You laughed darkly. "Are you referring to the fact that he's your uncle? Or that he's been giving Jake extra push ups and laps around the hangars as extra punishments for weeks now?"

Her lips parted, and she looked like she was going to be sick. "He saw us. He must have."

"Yeah, no shit. I saw you, too, remember? You're not doing a very good job of hiding the fact that you think Jake is good enough for you to lead him on physically but not good enough to have dinner with him."

"Uncle Bernie is trying to scare Jake away. Because Jake is exactly like Chris, and he doesn't want me to get hurt again. I didn't know-" she started, but you cut her off. 

"Well now you do. And if you truly don't give a flying fuck about Jake, then let him rot out there on the tarmac, doing a million extra push ups every day instead of eating lunch. But if you care about him even a little bit, please stop leading him on. Just tell him you're not going to date him once and for all, and tell Hondo to knock it off!"

Cat turned toward her computer and went silent for the rest of the morning. Which was fine with you. There was a lot to catch up on since you skipped work yesterday. There was no point in going to lunch since Bradley was gone. And if you did go, you'd just end up arguing with Jake. So instead you pretended to do some work while you thought about how many things needed to change between you and Bradley until you made yourself nauseous. 

------------------------------------------

"Before we get started today, I'd like to just take a moment to point out that our fresh recruits from Lemoore have been doing an excellent job both in the air and in the classroom," Admiral Dean announced to the room full of aviators. Bradley rolled his eyes as Slayer and his buddies sat up a little straighter. "You're really earning the spotlight," he told them before continuing with some of the mission details. 

Admiral Dean had been showing favoritism to the group from Lemoore all week, and Bradley cringed knowing he had seven more weeks of this to go. He didn't want to be here. His mind kept wandering back to San Diego. Back to you. 

After a week away, he didn't even know where you and he stood. He felt numb. Desensitized. Almost like nothing could hurt him or fix him except you. Were you sleeping and eating well? Were you worried about him? Was there any way you could forgive him for the way he'd behaved and the things he'd said? Did you even want to?

It was a good thing he already had these mission parameters memorized; two teams would be working in tandem to eliminate a communications tower and a newly constructed military base. He knew it by heart, and now all he could think about was what he wanted to tell you if you accepted a call from him. He'd been talking to Nat all week, and it was clear to Bradley now that you should be his top priority. Not a baby, not having sex to try to get pregnant. Just you. 

But there was so much he wanted to say to you, and he was afraid he was going to stumble over his words and just make things worse. It could be another week or two before he was allowed access to an iPad anyway. He'd put his name in to try to get chosen for an early FaceTime slot, but there were no guarantees. 

"Bradshaw, Trace, Floyd," barked Admiral Dean. "Get out to your aircrafts to run some practice formations. And try to keep up with the rest."

"Yes, sir," Bradley managed to say with a perfect salute when really all we wanted to do was flip this guy the bird and then hijack an iPad for the rest of the day. 

"You look so distracted," Nat whispered as they exited the classroom. 

"I just need to talk to her," he replied softly. "If I can just have a real conversation with her and tell her how I feel, I think I'll be able to focus."

She nodded. "I know. I already told you that if I get selected first, you can trade time slots with me."

He just nodded, because the tightness in his throat made him more than a little nervous for how he was about to perform in the air for Admiral Dean and the other officers. Once they were all out on deck, the sun was way too hot, and Bradley could feel the sweat trickling down his back. He handed his helmet to Nat for a second so he could remove his silicone ring and wipe the sweat from his hand. 

"Whoa, wait. Are you two old timers married to each other?" asked Slayer's large and annoying buddy. From the font emblazoned across his helmet, his call sign was Charmer. Oh, the irony.

"No, dumbass," Nat replied coolly. "Flying together would be disallowed according to the misconduct handbook."

Charmer looked confused by her words, and Bradley wanted to laugh. But now Slayer was referring to Bob as "four eyes" which made him want to punch something.

"How can I guarantee that you can see correctly in the air?" Slayer asked him. "I shouldn't even have to fly with you at all."

"Oh," Bob said with a good natured chuckle. "My corrective lenses make it possible for me to see just perfectly. I passed my eye exams last month."

But Slayer just snickered. "The only thing worse than flying with a guy who can't see is flying with a woman." 

Bradley was about to take his helmet back from Nat when he felt his hands curl into fists. Suddenly it seemed like he had nothing to lose by leveling these assholes. 

"You need to learn some fucking manners and put some respect on her name," Bradley growled closing in on Slayer.

But the other man didn't back down at all. "I'm sure Phoenix here can't fly for shit, but at least she's alright to look at. I'll bet your wife is a dog, old man."

That was it. Bradley was actually going to be dishonorably discharged from the navy for fistfighting another officer. But just as Bob managed to kind of wedge his arms between their bodies, Admiral Dean started calling for everyone to get in their aircrafts. 

"Woof woof," Slayer called with a laugh as he strutted away. He sounded like a fucking child. He essentially was a fucking child. But Bradley still had to fight the desire to pound his face in.

"You need to relax," Nat hissed. "Dean already has it out for us, and you'll just make it worse."

"I know," Bradley growled, putting his helmet on. "But he insulted both of you."

"Bob and I are used to it, Rooster. You need to tuck your feelings way down deep inside until later tonight. I'll get out more candy and can you lay on the couch in the lounge and mope. But now is not the time!"

His friend was absolutely right. He needed to chill. So Bradley tried to clear his mind of all extraneous material, keeping only the mission details and his perfect wife at the forefront.

----------------------------

On Saturday evening, you managed to call your parents back. They sounded concerned when you lied and told them that you had a migraine and you were going to try to catch up on sleep for the rest of the weekend. You tried to engage in conversation for a few minutes more, but as soon as your mom mentioned future grandkids, you had to end the call. 

The throbbing pain in your heart just wouldn't go away. You missed Bradley. It hurt to breathe as you curled up in bed wearing your husband's UVA shirt with Tramp next to you. 

Jake kept texting you constantly, trying to see where you were. He tried calling a few times today, but you were ignoring him pretty successfully. Maybe you could just take some melatonin and pass out until tomorrow afternoon. 

As you climbed out of bed to dig around in your nightstand, a thought occurred to you. Had Bradley left you anything this time? You'd been too consumed by your wayward thoughts to even register that maybe there was something in here for you. When you opened the drawer, you sank all the way down onto your knees on the floor. 

There was a pretty, professionally bound album with one of your wedding photos on the cover. You and Bradley on the beach. He was looking at you like he couldn't believe you were real, and his fingers were resting gently on the side of your neck. 

You had to squeeze your eyes closed against the tears, because you could remember that moment perfectly. You could almost feel the weight of his hands on your body and hear his voice. When you reached into the drawer to remove the album, a tiny paper airplane that was tucked in the corner fell out of it.

Thanks for the memories, Baby Girl.

You couldn't stop crying. There were photos from when you were dating and the day he bought the craftsman. There were photos of Tramp and some from the Hard Deck. There was one of you at the beach just before a crashing wave soaked you through your clothing. There were some with your parents and some at Goose and Carole's gravesite. And he had chosen the most beautiful wedding and honeymoon photos as well. Everything was in order, and they were all perfect. And each one had a handwritten sentence or two underneath.

I can't believe how beautiful you are.

How did I get this lucky?

Let's stay together forever. That's all I want.

You are my perfect wife.

You were laying flat on the floor, staring at the ceiling with tears leaking from your eyes when you heard your doorbell ring. "Fuck," you gasped as you sobbed. Tramp launched himself off the bed and ran through the living room barking up a storm. 

They would go away. Whoever it was would just leave when nobody opened the door. But then the pounding started. "Angel! It's me! I see your car in the driveway."

You didn't want to talk to Jake right now. You didn't want to talk to anyone right now. You just wanted to look at the album of photos from your husband and wonder what he meant by Thanks for the memories, Baby Girl.

"I brought my spare key from Rooster, and I'm about to use it," he called through the door. Even Tramp's barks had turned to a pathetic whimper by this point, so you just got yourself up off the floor. 

You almost made it to the door by the time Jake was opening it. And then he took one look at you, softly closed it behind him, and wrapped his arms around you. 

"Oh, Angel," he crooned as you sobbed and shook against him. "What the hell happened?"

"Everything," you cried, burying your face in his shirt. "I don't know."

Carefully and very slowly, he guided you toward the couch as he told you that it would all be okay. But you didn't believe him. And when he suggested you sit down while he got you something to drink, you shook your head.

"Okay," he whispered, keeping his arms tight around you, holding you in the middle of the living room. You had no idea how long it took until you were able to stand on your own again, but when you finally pulled your face away from his shoulder and met his eyes, he looked very concerned. 

You just sniffed and wiped at your tears as he kissed your forehead. "You ready to tell me what's wrong?" he asked, and you just shrugged in response. You knew that as soon as you started talking, you'd be sobbing again. "You ready for some tea and a snack?"

This time you nodded and plopped down onto the couch with Tramp at your feet. You could hear Jake opening and closing the kitchen cupboards, looking for mugs and tea bags. But it felt nice to have someone in your house with you, so you curled up against the throw pillow and took some deep breaths. When he set down some cheese and crackers next to a mug of hot tea, you realized you hadn't eaten all day. Your stomach growled with hunger, and then you thought you might be sick. 

He sat next to you and blew on his own mug of tea. "Figured you hadn't eaten dinner," he mused, petting Tramp on the head. 

"I haven't eaten all day," you whispered, reaching for your own mug. 

Jake gave you an appraising look. "I think it's time to tell me what's wrong."

You tried to sip your tea, but it was too hot. "You already know I can't seem to get pregnant," you said with an awkward shrug. "It's the only thing Bradley wants, and I can't get it right."

"Angel. That's not the only thing he wants," Jake insisted, but your eyes were blurry with tears again. 

"Just because he'd never admit to it doesn't mean it's not true," you whispered.

"He'd never admit to it, because it's not true. Jesus, do you hear yourself? Trying to talk in circles to reach an incorrect conclusion?" he asked, shaking his head. "Bradley would walk through fire for you. He would tame a lion, or defy the laws of physics or some shit."

You snorted in spite of yourself. But then you admitted to Jake that Bradley had gotten his sperm tested behind your back. And you told him the things he had said recently that made you cry yourself to sleep.

"He's just stupid," Jake insisted. "Doesn't mean he loves you less because you're not pregnant. Yet. Just give it a few more months. And it sounds like you both want the exact same thing, and you both want to find a way to blame yourself so the other one can be let off the hook."

"Huh." You hadn't really thought about it that way. The self blame crept in every day for you. But maybe that was part of the reason why Bradley gave a sperm sample. Blaming yourself was easier than blaming the person you loved. 

Then Jake asked, "Did you skip lunch all week? I saved you a seat every day. I saw Maria, and I asked if you'd been eating with her." 

You looked at him and knew you couldn't lie. "I haven't really had an appetite since Bradley left."

"Have you been avoiding the dining hall because of me?" 

Maybe you had been a little bit. You didn't want to go down there knowing you wouldn't see Bradley, not with the way you left things. But you felt like things with Jake were a little off kilter too. "I don't know. Maybe."

He sat in silence for a minute before reaching for the plate of cheese and crackers and holding it out to you. With a sigh you took some of the food and started to nibble on it. 

"What's going on with you and Cat?"

"Nothing."

You rolled your eyes and bit into the cracker. "I've heard that before."

He lounged back against the couch and stared at the ceiling. "I really like her. There's something about the way she looks and her smile and her voice. I don't know. But she told me a few days ago to just stop asking her out. So I did. And I've barely seen her since."

You felt like maybe this was your fault. You also felt like maybe this is what Jake actually needed. "Is Hondo still riding you?"

"Nah," Jake sighed before he drank more of his tea. "He backed off. Kind of miss it though. Make me feel like I was getting somewhere, you know?" he asked with a tiny smirk. "It's hard to get under that man's skin. But I guess making out with his niece will do the trick."

You laughed, and then you realized you had eaten most of the cheese and crackers. And then you finished your tea while Jake took Tramp out for a little walk for you. 

Once he was gone, you texted Maria and Cam about potentially going to brunch tomorrow morning. Then you sat in bed and took your time with the photo book from Bradley. Every page made you smile or feel like crying because you missed him. 

When you tried to put his wedding band on your thumb, it was still too big. So you unclasped the chain holding the charms he gave you, and you added it there. Then you took your melatonin and went to sleep.

----------------------------

Bradley was in line for dinner on Monday after a day of being roasted by Admiral Dean when he heard his name. "Bradshaw." He turned to see a man heading his way. "There's a free slot with an iPad if you want it."

"Now?" he asked, tossing his tray down and stepping out of line. 

"Yes. Your name was at the top of the list."

"Okay," he said, heart racing as he headed for the room onboard the aircraft carrier where he could finally talk to you. He was nervous. There were a million things he wanted to say, and he wished he had written them down. But it didn't matter. He was going to get to see your face. He could finally tell you the truth about how he had been feeling and how he was going to make things up to you. And he'd beg you to be honest with him, too. 

"Thanks," he muttered as he took the offered iPad and found an empty seat. He could hear other officers talking and laughing with their loved ones, and he smiled as he entered your phone number. The first thing out of his mouth was going to be how much he loved you. The second thing was going to be that the two of you would figure everything out when you were together again.

But Bradley counted each time your phone rang unanswered. Three... Four... Five.

You always answered when he called. Every single time. You answered when you were at work. You answered in the middle of the night. You answered when you were taking Tramp for a walk. 

Six... Seven.

And then the line went dead. You had ignored his call. 

-------------------------------

He bought that ring weeks ago. And I don't even know when he managed to sneak the gift into the drawer. And I don't know how they can fix this. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 11

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