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#sir you're perfect
adagiodummy · 3 months
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Whispering soft dom praise and petting my plushes as I go to sleep because WHY is there not a man in my bed for me to adore
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homoqueerjewhobbit · 4 months
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Look, technically, I'm like ¼ German (my German Jewish ancestors were so prescient they came to America 50 years before Hitler was born!)... Where was I going?
Oh right, I am personally offended by Neil Patrick Harris's accent on Doctor Who.
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sapphickittykatherine · 9 months
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THEY HATED HIM FOR BEING TOO SEXY 🗣
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tarragonthedragon · 1 year
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every time a work of fiction has a hell and demons who are like "oh, everyone expects fire and brimstone torture, but we've modernised. torture is endless long queues and tedious paperwork" i''m immediately just like. joke's on you. i fucking love tedious paperwork and queueing. you cannot bore me in any way that matters.
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el-im · 2 years
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Color of Night (1994) dir. Richard Rush
Now I finally get it--you are like my ex-husband. You think that everything’s gotta be either black or white cause you’ve gone colorblind! But God’s on my side. 
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andthebeanstalk · 1 year
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Migraine abating slightly for the first time today so reality is coming slowly back online - what's up y'all The Return of the Pink Panther (1975) is still very very funny
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willosword · 2 years
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i haven’t been caught up to toh in quite a while but based on dash osmosis, i would like to study philip wittebane like a bug 
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Look Chan I know we've all been single for a while here but I don't think you understand the concept of Valentine's Day
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gooses-trenchcoat · 6 months
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my parents: expect me to somehow just know what phrases mean and be a fully fluent conversationalist without ever actually getting anything wrong
also my parents: no you don't find it hard to bELiEvE that because you kNOw it's true you find it hard to iMAgiNe or you find it hard to EMpAThiSe
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sugume · 2 months
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HOLE IN THE WALL — JUJUTSU KAISEN
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( TW ) f!reader. sex work. unprotected sex. praise. dedegration. unprotected sex. creampies. spanking. (Not a gangbang btw, just back to back sex!)
FEATURING. Toji Fushiguro, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami Kento.
authors note. I thought it would be fun to leave the identities a mystery,,,can you guess the order of who is who 🤭 ? I fear this is unedited bc I’m still suffering in bed and hate rereading 😔
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. . . 9:30 PM 
You lay comfortably on the bench underneath you. Well as comfortably as you could. Your boss refused to buy new benches, instead leaving you and your coworkers with these .5-inch foam benches. You’ve gotten used to it, so it doesn’t bother you much these days.  
“Gettin’ your first customer y/n! It’s businessman!” The new girl yelled through the door your lower body was in. You don’t bother yelling back. She’d be long gone by now. You scoot your ass further into the private room. You know ‘businessman’ likes watching your ass recoil against his hips. You perk up when you hear the door open and shut.  
“Hey sweetheart,” Businessman says is a tired raspy voice. “Hi!” You say back, he’s been here so much that you know he fucks better when he’s able humanize the ass hanging out the wall for him. 
You feel his rough hands fondle with your ass. You shake a little, earning a small laugh and pinch. “So perfect.” He groans and within a few seconds you feel the rubber covered tip of his cock head at the entrance. He pushes in slowly, and your grateful your last I lent used a bit too much lube, leaving you wet enough to take businessman’s cock without much struggle.  
“Fuck yes, waited all day for this pussy.” He grunts, hands gripping your hips. He pushes in and out at a slow pace, he likes savoring the feeling of your tight pussy. You moan softly at the feeling of his cock sliding against your walls at the gentle pace but that gentle pace soon turns into the rough fucking you’re used to. The type of fucking only a stressed man who wastes his money and sex shop could give you. You moan louder, his cock hitting all your soft spots.
“Want you to come with me alright?” He brings his hands around to your clit. He rubs harsh circles into your clit and after being used and denied orgasm for so long you're coming in his big cock as he fills the condom. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re so good to me, so good.” He rambles and you respond with small thanks You's
. . . 9:45 PM 
Several minutes after businessman gently shut to door you hear the door open. Men back-to-back which you’d usually be pissed at but after that orgasm your relaxed enough and it’s not like you have a choice.  
“Ha! So, this is where he goes after work?” A man says in a deep voice, albeit childish tone. “And I thought he was innocent! Hello? Is this real?” The man pushes a finger into your ass as if he was expecting to feel silicone. There goes your good mood.  
“Hi, yes I’m real and that kinda hurt!” You say loud enough to pass the drywall that covers your upper body. The man laughs and you can feel his breath on your ass, it feels like he’s close enough to look through the curtain your ass hangs out. “Uhm—you aren’t allowed to look through that sir!” You stutter, ready to yell for the faux security to come get a rowdy man out. 
“Sorry! Just wanted a sneak peek!” He laughs, standing back up and silently admiring the view of your shiny ass. He brings his long hands down and starts rubbing all over your ass. You roll your eyes; his dick better be decent. 
“Does the man that came in before me come here a lot?”  
“I can’t tell you that.” 
“Pretty please?” 
“Do I have to call security?” You grumble.  
“Sorry pretty, can a man not talk anymore? Where the lube—oh there we go, now let me—” The man does something you can’t see before suddenly shoving his too-long dick into you. You scream into the bench. 
“Oh fuck, so fucking tight.” He grits out as your pussy clenches hard around him. “Should’ve paid extra for no protection.” He whispers to himself before pulling out of you. He pushes back in before his mushroom head could leave your warm pussy.  
You moan louder than you have all day as he continues to fuck you with his long cock. He’s fucking you so good, tip hitting your cervix that you feel your pussy start to pulse around him. You’re about to cum again. 
“Fuck, pretty, come on my cock.” He slams into you, hand going down to claw your hips. You open your mouth in a silent scream as you come on the cocky man’s cock.  
. . . 10:37 PM 
You settle back onto the bench, bladder empty and stomach full of the lunch box you packed for yourself. To wake yourself up, you had to splash your face with water a few times. The back-to-back orgasms those men had given you were enough to lose all the energy you had before coming to work. As you settled back in you mentally prepared yourself for the full night you had ahead of yourself. Back-to-back orgasms were unheard of here, you were lucky, and doubted it would ever happen again. The door slams shut, for cling you to stop thinking about those men. You lie on the bench and look at the concrete wall to the side.  
“Missed me girl?” The older man grunted, and your heart skipped a beat. It was him. Your favorite client. He hadn’t been here in so long you thought he might’ve been killed or sent to jail. You knew he wasn’t the sanest man out there.  
“S-sir?” You hesitantly ask, calling your favorite client by the nickname he loved.
“Mhm.” He answers, heavy hands coming to rub and fondle your pussy. You feel your face heat. “This pussy miss me? Miss actually having orgasms in this hell hold?”  
You answer him with a lie, he didn’t have to know you were still coming down from two orgasms with cocks that could rival his.  
“Knew you did girl, but I', back. Gonna give this sweet pussy the orgasm it’s been craving.” The man pulls out his cock, thankful he was able to scrap enough change to pay for unprotected sex with you. He just had to not come inside, or else he was banned from every location in the city. He runs the tips all over your ass and pussy, before shoving his cock into you. You dig your nails into the sides of the bench as his fat cock stretches you. Not even the other cocks before were this girthy.  
“F-fuck sir!” You scream when he slaps your ass. You clench around his cock, not wanting him to pull out.  
“All these damn cocks and this pussy is still this tight, fuckin’ A.” He grunts, slapping your ass as he thrust in and out of you. The sheer force of him has you coming so hard that your vision goes black for a second before returning when he hits a particular spot.  
“That was fuckin’ fast girl. Gonna make me come.” He grunts and brings his hand down fast and hard. The sound of his smack echoes in the empty room. “Wish I could come in this pussy.” He grumbles before pulling out. He first his fat cock before getting an idea. He brings the tip to your entrance, not pushing it in, and empties his load. You gasp and the feeling of his come spurting all over your pussy. You should be screaming right now, if any of his come had gotten into you, you could be pregnant. But inside your pussy thrums at the thought of this older mystery man leaving you with nothing but his child. You wish you weren’t on birth control. 
. . . 11:01 PM 
The man didn’t bother cleaning his come off you. Instead, he said he was leaving it as a parting gift because he didn’t know the next time he would see you. You were too fucked out to clean yourself off, so you left his cum just as he left it. Smeared and dripping off your pussy.  
When the next man came in you didn’t even care that he was about you fuck another man's come into you, you found it hot. He didn’t though. 
“Can’t believe my best friend sent me here to look at a used pussy.” He spit out and you tensed. 
“Huh—” 
“You heard me, matter of fact I was just told that you weren’t allowed creampies? Going against company rules now? Fuckin’ slutty bitch.” He snarls and brings a hand down to pinch at your swollen clit that peaked out your lips. You whine. 
“Think I might go out and tell, I don’t wanna use some stretched cunt.” His twists and pulls at your clit. 
“W-wait please don’t do that, please.” You cry, you were going to get in trouble with your boss if this mean man said those lies. Your boss always believed the words of so random men and he would take some of your check out. “I’ll do anything, please, don’t.”  
“Nah m’gonna tell. After I’m done with this pussy though. Already paid for you, might as well get a feel,” he tells you, as he unzips his pants. “Now be quiet, holes don’t talk.” The man degrades you as he shoves his cock into you. You cry at the burn. The only thing helping is the other leftover cum he shoved in you. 
“Fuck he was right; this pussy is too tight.” He grunts hands bruising your hips with how tight he’s gripping. You cry into the bench as he fu is you like he hates you. “Isn’t that crazy? This pussy gets used all damn day and yet it’s still this tight. What all the cocks you take too small or something’?” He slaps your ass. 
“Oh fuck, m’gonna come in the sweet pussy. Gonna give you that creampie you aren’t allowed. Gonna fuck my come so deep into this pussy it’ll be dripping out of you for days.” His grip on your hips tightens, and you scream into the bench as he comes deep inside you. “Fuckin’ hell that was good, might have to come back tomorrow. Say, you let me come inside you tomorrow too I won’t tell your boss?” 
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undiscovered-horizon · 6 months
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[It’s considered good etiquette to ask a man about his wife’s wellbeing. Except if the man in question is Dracule Mihawk.]
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Garp hates having to call Mihawk, mainly because of the warlord's attitude. Used to the usual "yes, sir!" of the Marines, a man with his own will and agenda is not something he entirely knows how to navigate. Especially since both of them know that the World Government needs the warlords more than they need the bureaucracy. And that doesn't exactly help in exercising power.
His attempts at diplomacy have burst into flames each time and today isn't going to be much different:
"How’s the missus?" Garp asks in the nicest tone he can force although he's aware that Mihawk knows how much the vice admiral hates asking for Dracule's assistance.
Mihawk only scoffs. "Are you calling just to spoil my mood or is there another reason for your impertinence?"
"I was just trying to-"
"Don't," he cuts him off in a stern voice. "If you have business with me, speak fast. If you're interested in my wife, I know where you live, Garp. I'd suggest losing your unwelcome nosiness before you lose something else."
Little did Garp know at the time but his little question was possibly the worst strategy he could think of. Dracule Mihawk is not like most men and the mere mention of his wife by acquaintances only enrages him. Work and private life do not ever mix. And he'll be damned if someone tries to breach that, even in the form of a courtesy. Therefore, the rest of the call was filled with openly insulting answers that were bold even for Mihawk. A veiled threat or two also found their way into their rather tense conversation.
You know he's done with Garp when he lets out a frustrated grunt. Sometimes you wonder if this grumpy, forever dissatisfied version of him is the only side of Mihawk his acquaintances know. Maybe he really is two men in the form of one.
He's sitting at his desk, thinking about something and not bothering to get up for now. Considering the fact that his hat is lying on the table and not on his head, Mihawk is probably not planning on going out anytime soon. Then again, judging by his spoiled mood, his homestay is a blessing for the first poor sods that would cross his path.
In slow steps, you stroll to his side, letting your hand brush through his hair. He doesn't say anything, only leans his head further towards you. The thing about Mihawk is that he loved to reject and decline but he never does so to you. No, in your case it's the opposite - he revels in allowing you whatever you want.
So intimidating and combative, yet soft and looking for intimacy. Truly, two men with the face of one.
"My mother used to say that each grey hair is one thing we worry about," you say quietly. "At this rate, love, your whole head will be white by noon."
"Your mother also says that milk goes sour because gnomes piss in it," he retorts. Yes, your mother and her strange folk beliefs... She's probably the only person Mihawk can force himself to be nice to despite his dislike.
His response earns a hearty laugh from you. Clear as day, you can see his posture relax as he listens to the music of your happiness. If he even thinks about the possibility of Garp or any other of his acquaintances hearing it, he might just get furious again.
"Well, nobody's perfect," you say between chuckles.
Then, Mihawk gently grabs your hand and lowers it to his face. With softness and passion that hardly befits a man of his infamy, he kisses the inside of your hand. "You seem to be doing so effortlessly."
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moondirti · 13 days
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kyle yearns for his captain's approval. you're the perfect medium through which he can secure it.
featuring: gaz x fem!reader x price. very consensual. fondling. inspection. fluff. praise kink. objectification. cucking? anal play. mentions of dp and breeding. 4k words of nonsense.
when price asks gaz if he's got anyone at home, gaz answers.
truthfully. he'd be hesitant to admit that he does to anyone else – soap especially, what with his track record of worming his way into people's pants – but his captain is... his captain. jonathan price. a real force of nature, cursed with an uncanny determinism and a habit of getting what he wants regardless of if those around him are willing. gaz knows that price will find out eventually; when the ring he's been planning to purchase for months finds it's way onto your finger, and he requests a change be made to the dependants section of his paperwork. perhaps before then too, if he really did some digging. but gaz also knows that, if there were anyone to trust with this precious knowledge, it'd be him.
so, he tells him about the little number he's got tucked away in a home in south oxfordshire. it's the lazy afternoon before a big mission, and he shouldn't be drinking but he is, a tumbler cradled between his palms and the burn of rye whiskey loosening his tongue. price doesn't speak, just listens, as the sergeant gradually devolves into more and more detail about your meeting, your courtship, the work you distract yourself with when he's not around. and despite his reverence, he admits it all breathlessly, a sheepishness pervading every word. how is he expected to keep his composure when the air is so heavy? unrelenting scrutiny and the potent waft of cigar-smoke draw a hot flush to his skin, the older man humming every so often as a prompt for him to continue.
he wants to, oddly enough. gaz is a reticent man, second only to ghost when it comes to keeping his life private. but something about this circumstance has him ready to lay it all bare. he wants to tell price about how you kiss his neck, the wicked fucking ways in which you use your mouth to milk him dry. he wants to pull out his phone, scroll through the hidden album full of pictures of your tits, of home-made films that paint you in a cum-covered, dazzling light. he wants price to know that he chose right, wants to hear the praise whispered in his ear as his captain lays a sturdy clap onto his back.
instead, he shrugs.
"not much more to tell, cap."
"damn shame." price taps his cigar to rid of the ashes. "sounds like a proper match, garrick. good for you."
and it's enough. a big enough lump of wood to keep the needy fire in his belly roaring. he shifts in his seat to dissuade the heat, rubbing his jaw in contemplation like he hasn't already thought of a perfect way to reap more.
"tell you what, sir. we survive this next assignment, i'll bring you over to meet 'er."
it's a hairbreadth escape, but they do manage to make it back alive, albeit a bit more scarred than they once were. gaz gets home late at night to find you awake, waiting on him despite the incredibly short notice he'd given you for his arrival. it's there – in the foyer, his nose buried in your neck as you babble on about how much you missed him, and what you'll make for breakfast to celebrate, and questions like hey, are you okay? that cut looks fresh or when was the last time you slept? – that he breaks the news. you'll be having his captain over for dinner in two week's time.
of course you're overjoyed. you've been begging to meet the people he risks his life with ever since he told you what he did for work. the planning is immediate. you're dumping recipes on him the next morning, asking for his opinion on what appetiser, main, and dessert your guest of honour would enjoy best. and what's his poison, anyway? i can get my hands on a nice bottle of scotch if you think it'd be worth it. kyle doesn't have the heart to tell you that nothing you'll do would matter much, that price has already taken a liking to you. besides, if anything, your homemaking ability makes him chub up in his pants. best not to rob himself of that delight.
the night arrives as quick as it had been put forward. gaz has to dodge your attempts to put a tie on him, stifles your complaints with a kiss and insists that it's not that kind of dinner party. you're confused (bless you) but flit around making last minute preparations in your bustier midi-dress anyway, kitten-heels clicking against the polished hardwood floors. at a certain point, he can tell that you're fussing over nothing and pulls you by the hand to stand by the doorway with him.
"there's something i didn't mention earlier." he whispers when you're finally settled, tucking his index finger under your chin. your brows knit anxiously. he pecks the canyons between them, stroking your bottom lip until the frazzled energy bleeds from you.
"why would you wait? there's not enough t–"
"not exactly something you can plan for, doll. s'just gonna happen." when you fail to push him for more context, he sighs. "price is expecting to see you."
"sure... that's the whole point, isn't it?"
"no, sweetheart." gaz's free hand wraps around your waist, lowering until it reaches the plush sweel of your ass. his touch lays breadcrumbs for you to follow, leading you down the very depraved path he's trekked a million times the past few weeks. "i mean all of you."
your lips part in realization. oh. he's scared straight for a second, heart hammering like it always does when he reveals a darker fantasy to you. but you merely smile – anxious, sure, pupils clouded with fresh concern, but a smile nonetheless – and accept his admission gracefully.
"and you want me to let him?"
gaz nods. "if you'd please."
you place a chaste kiss on his cheek, careful not to smear your makeup onto his clean-shaven skin. "okay."
he visibly slackens, an edge of playfulness cutting it's way back into his tone. "what's say we take those panties off, make things easier when the time arrives?"
"can' remember the last time i had a beef welly this good, love. family recipe?"
"yes, actually! but it took me some time to perfect for my own. the original called for sherry in the duxelle, but i always thought wine was better suited."
kyle doesn't know if he's ever been more proud of you.
you're a vision. the paradigm of charm. he half feared things to would be awkward following your conversation at the doorway, but aside from the first few minutes of price's arrival – the time it took everyone to thaw the ice of unfamiliarity – you've been anything but stilted. in fact, he worries that you missed the true implication of his request – of the direction things will take later – given the way you laugh openly. the ease in which you bridge conversation topics. your attentiveness, eyes roving over both your boyfriend and his captain to ensure everyone has everything they need. you certainly don't act like a girl who's going to be nakedly appraised tonight. all the expected clumsiness, the stumbling over your own words, replaced instead by eloquence and quick wit.
sweet girl. bloody... beautiful, darling girl.
price seems to think so too. he chuckles heartily at the stories you offer of kyle failing learning to waterski during your anniversary trip to mauritius (and offers his own insight too, something along the lines of how you'd expect the sergeant to be better balanced, given he's survived hanging off a helicopter before). offers some solid advice on how to deal with the ostentatious coworker whose been bugging you for months. and when you question him about his personal life – a line every good soldier knows not to take with their CO, which has gaz wincing internally – all your guest offers is a genuine, crinkle-eye smile. no doubt appreciative of the non-intrusive manner you ask.
he shoots gaz a look before answering, and it's one full of tacky warmth. a look he's seen several times on the field, molasses sweet and satisfying, one that invades his private thoughts too often to admit. whose effect he knows only comes off in a cold shower, a quick pump to his cock if you're not around to help relieve it. something like approval. unspoken praise.
"wish i could say i've been blessed like the two of ya. married to my work, m'afraid."
"oh." you wave your arms, standing to clear the table of dirty plates. "don't be ridiculous, john. you're a wonderful man. put yourself out there and i'm sure it'll come to you." you say it like it's breathing, and just as easily prance away to the kitchen, your voice losing to the clatter of silverware in the sink. thus, when you yell out something about dessert (price is really only able to decipher i made madeira! over the illegible chorus of cabinets closing) kyle is the one to answer you. well-trained in untangling your voice from any sort of ruckus, poor cell reception and moans and drunk gibberish and the obstructive fabric of his hoodie when you sob into his chest.
"maybe later, doll!" he voices back, scratching the back of his neck as he takes in the food still laid out in front of them. picked apart by hungry forks but still, enough to make up days worth of leftovers.
"mm. the girl stuffed me full, garrick." price stretches from his seat. "if i didnt know any better, i'd reckon you lot were fattening me up to feast on me come winter."
gaz stores the remains of your meal into nearby tupperwares then follows suit, urging his captain to follow him into the lounge. "please," he laughs, nodding when the man pulls a cigar from his pocket and twists it in a silent question. "she thinks they starve us out there. tries to make up for it by feedin' me into oblivion when i'm home."
"speak for yourself. i could do with a home-cooked meal every now 'n' then." the captain takes a puff of the maduro between his fingers, lets the smoke cloud his hindbrain. your house smells so much like you, like kyle and you – warm laundry and anise and jasmine – that he feels a quick lick of guilt at ruining the fragile balance of it. too little too late, too – the scent of leather and oily spice pervades the space.
but you don't mention it once you waltz back in, smoothing your hands across the back of your dress. "if we don't get a chance to try the cake tonight, remind me to send you home with some, john." gaz poorly conceals his laugh with a cough, sinking into the cushion when you shoot him an offended look. "what?"
"nothing," he pouts, then hides his next words behind the back of his hand, whispering to price. "i told you."
"i can hear you, you twat!" you flick his ear, brows furrowed in faux irritation as your boyfriend wraps an arm around your legs.
"i know! hey– i know, gorgeous. was only joking." his forehead nudges your tummy, restless until you comb your hand over his tight curls. "th'captain knows that too. isn't that right, sir?"
"of course."
"you laugh now, but wait until you're halfway through a month long mission. you'll wish you had me around!"
"don't i know it." kyle murmurs, the fingers at the back of your thigh slowly creeping upward. the skirt of your dress slips, climbs up your legs with the motion of his forearm, and all too suddenly he remembers your lack of undergarments.
fuck. he almost forget he pocketed your panties. and you... you've been so natural, such a good hostess despite the cold brush of air constantly on your cunt. it flips a primal switch inside him – that same trigger that'd prompted mention of this night in the first place. blood rushes to his cock so fast it hurts, desperation flooding his lungs until the only thing he can breathe out is your name.
"hmmm." you smile in return. and if price weren't here, he'd bury his nose into the canyon between your legs and take a deep inhale of your natural musk.
but he is, and so all gaz can manage is a quiet: "how about you show the captain our little surprise?"
"oh?" the man in question hums. dangerously relaxed, two legs spread and his posture curved as he watches the little display you put on for him. "what's this about a surprise, then?"
you bite your lip, raking your nails down from your boyfriend's neck to his shoulder and placing a tight, reassuring squeeze there before breaking away. nothing is said as you push an ottoman between price's knees, making sure it's steady before pushing him to rest against the back of the couch.
"do you like my dress?" you practically purr, bending over as to pronounce your tits. kyle's breath stutters, watching for the way superior's eyes take in your form. gratification swells in his belly when he just smiles, patting your hip.
"s'that really a question that needs to be asked, lovie? you know the answer."
an adorable mix between a shrug and giggle is all you give. "kyle says you want to see me."
"aye. i do."
"and i wanna make him happy."
"same for me."
and kyle thinks he could just cum in his pants if this keeps up. he feels filthy, both an observer and the main act in this spectacle. the knowledge that his captain doesn't just want you, the love of his life, but him too works away at him, hollowing him out until he's nothing but a husk of docile yearning.
"so, what'll it be?" you say.
"turn around. elbows on the ottoman, knees on either side of my thighs."
you obey instantly, lamplight catching the heated flush of your skin while you position yourself according to price's wishes. your back arcs so that your ass is prominently within his view, plump even beneath the loose material of your dress.
"kyle."
"sir." he coughs, shifting to conspicuously adjust the aching mass tucked in his waistband.
"on your knees, son. righ' here beside me. when i ask a question, you're expected to answer."
"yes, sir."
"got tha' that, lovie?" he grunts. "respond now, and then it's silence from you."
"okay!" you wiggle your hips, forgetting yourself for a moment. "sir!"
this gaz can do. following orders. grounded pragmatism, however far this is from a professional setting. he figures price has gleaned as much, has given him this task so he doesn't flounder off track throughout the evening and ruin things for everyone. the hard part is over then, all of that hesitant foreplay – of opening up, getting you to agree, of the stretch of time it took for everyone to warm up to one another – wrapped up for something simpler.
all he has to worry about is answering promptly and correctly while he watches his captain–
flip your skirt over your hips.
a low whistle. then, two hands on your backside, kneading the soft flesh there. working either globe apart like dough, the glistening seam of your most private parts spread open to prying eyes. price appraises your cunt for the first time like he would a winning showdog, or the sky on a particularly pleasant day. all utilitarian-like. if it weren't for the bulge in his trousers, your boyfriend would almost be offended.
"no panties, hm?"
"no-" you start, squeaking out an apology when you earn a firm swat to your thigh.
"i asked her to go without them tonight. thought... you'd appreciate it, sir." kyle replies, swallowing the saliva that arises upon seeing your lips flutter.
"good lad." a hot flash of arousal breaks across his chest. the captain lets go of his grip on your ass, watching how the fat jiggles back into place, then returns to squeezing it. "surprised i couldn't smell 'er, way she was dancing around us all night."
it isn't a question, so gaz stays quiet.
the groping continues. sometimes its light – brushes of calloused palms across the area, disturbing the stillness like a rock skipping over water. you ripple when he pokes, shake when he taps. other times, and increasingly once price notes your resilience to pain, it borders on rough. moulding your flesh into compact pinches, jabbing his thumb into the softness so hard it'll bruise. you take it all with grace, a low whine building in your chest that he let's go unpunished.
"she's taking this well. you rough her up often?"
"when she asks, sir." he thinks for a moment, catching your wily smile from the corner of his eye. minx. "likes it more than i do giving it to her."
"need someone to take care of the both of ya." price chuckles, then moves on, oblivious to the way the sergeant's hips buck at his implication. or, maybe he notices – probably does – and stores it away for another time. "looks like a greedy little pussy to me." his thumbs hook onto either side of your labia, pulling it apart like fresh bed to reveal the sloppy mess between. your clit is enflamed, angry for being neglected for so long. if you were allowed to speak, kyle can guarantee with almost a hundred percent certainty that you'd be whining to be touched. "look a' tha'." price's accent grows thicker. "fat little thing just jumping for attention."
he curls a finger, then flicks the swollen bud. a loud moan bursts from you, your face falling between your forearms as you hold yourself back from begging. gaz would've acquiesced by now, would've rubbing the bundle of nerves raw the second you fanned your pretty lashes up at him.
but price snaps it three more times in rapid succession, which apparently is too much for you to handle because you yell. "p-please!"
he remedies your slip up with a slap to the same area. the crack on impact echoes long enough to tell him that one hurt. "shhh. so spoiled, sergeant. how often do you make her cum?"
"a-at least three times a go, sir."
"what's the record?"
"eight."
"and the longest you've held off?"
kyle hesitates, bowing his head for the reprimand he knows is coming. "never... never tried. sir."
"tch."
a precision blow. swift but petrifying. the captain's managed to find both your loose strings in a matter of minutes, tugging to see them come undone on his lap. gaz has got the unwavering urge to rest his chin on his strong thigh, put it on the record that he isn't weak willed, just indulgent. something that can be easily remedied, with his guidance. if he'd let him.
and you...
you're gyrating your hips, begging for some pressure on your aching centre. price gives it to you, though not in the way you expect, pinching your clit and tightening his hold until you're motionless, muscles trembling but otherwise perfectly poised.
so the inspection continues. he fans out your vulva, exposing the hole that clenches around nothing. a laugh wracks his frame at the sight, the aftermath of it husky. amused. "begging to be filled, a'right. how many cocks has she had in 'ere?"
"just mine, sir. and her toys."
"how about at once?"
kyle's never been so bold with you; has always held back that godless part of him, that needy dog he sees his comrades often embrace. pure, unfettered degeneracy. you're soft, and pretty and good and a high-functioning member of society. and he's never once wanted to see you hurt, uncomfortable or bite-mark-bloodied, despite the way his mind screams at him to at least ask. see if you'd be willing to appease that side of him.
yet you visibly shiver at the thought proposed by price, gooseflesh pocking your skin, and he knows he should have thrown caution to the wind.
"one, sir."
he watches the man's finger outline the circumference of your opening, dipping in by the millimetre to test the waters. "shame. could probably stretch her out. get 'er nice and loose for whenever you wan' something to keep you warm without the commitment."
the finger plunges in.
gaz watches you swallow his superior to the last knuckle in what must be a world-record, no time to blink lest he misses it. price goes with the motion, setting his free hand onto your ass to keep you steady as he wiggles his digit to make space amidst the tight embrace of your walls. or, that's what he thinks is happening. the only indication he has of things are the lewd squelches your cunt emits and the face of pure ecstasy you pull. but he's well-versed enough in your bodily functions that he's sure of his estimate.
"scratch wha' i said. nothing beats this." his superior groans, and for the first time that night, adjusts himself in his pants. kyle wishes he would pull it out, allow himself the relief of freeing a raging hard-on from its confines. but kyle also wishes that he could be given something to do, something with his mouth perhaps, to sate the unaddressed thrill in his bones. it wouldn't take a smart man to figure out that both wishes are very much correlated. "fucking suffocating clutch. wouldn' pull out if my life depended on it. pussy like this isn' made for that, garrick."
"sir?"
"you cum inside her, lad?"
"i- yes. i-i do. she's on birth control."
"best to see to that, then." he says, like the contraceptive is an obstacle and not a consolation. you release another, long-winded moan, to which price pulls his finger out to pat your vulva. like taming a wild animal. "though what i said still stands. could always do with a loose hole."
his hand inches up.
this time, it's gaz who groans.
loudly. his eyes fluttering halfway shut, hands tugging at the tight fabric over his groin. you throw a curious look over your shoulder, concern glossing your pupils until you confirm that the source of the sound isn't pain, but pleasure. ecstasy at finally having his wants vocalised, that incessant impulse that nags and nags and nags anytime he's fucking you from behind, tight rim practically leering up at him, tempting him to thrust upwards and 'accidentally' slip in.
"you like that, sergeant? hm? ever use this asshole? it looks unbroken to me."
"y-you're... not wrong, sir. i–"
"but you want to?" he finishes for him, scooping some of the abundant slick from your cunt and slathering it onto your back entrance. it's not enough lubrication to do anything but press one thumb in, but he repeats the process to push the other in alongside it.
"yeah."
you give him a look that can't mean anything except we'll talk about this later and he can bloody kiss price if he was given permission to, if not for anything but helping him open this impossible subject with you.
"we'll see to tha' some other day, then."
his thumbs retreat. your hole winks shut again. gaz is torn between looking at you or his captain, but the latter man robs him of the indecision by bringing his dominant index and middle fingers to his lips. they're shiny with the remnants of your fluids, as if he needed any incitement to wrap his mouth around the digits. he works at them until price's fingers prune, laving his tongue around the knuckles, against the nail beds, all the way through to the fold of skin between them.
so desperate to please, to see to it that 'some other day' is everyday henceforth.
a future with price by your sides. beyond just the field. the bite in your supple existence. spice supporting anise and jasmine, some aphrodisiac blend that'll carry you through to the end of your lives, happy. sated. a mediator. commander. captain. his captain.
"that's a good boy."
he could really get used to this.
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midnightcrw · 2 months
Text
Provocative
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Pairing: Alastor x fem!reader
Summary: Lucifer visits the Hazbin Hotel because his daughter called him, but there he sees a good friend he hasn't seen in a long time.
Warnings: Swearing, mention of discrimination (this is fluff, by the way)
a/n: This is my first time writing for Alastor and anything related to the Hazbin Hotel, so I hope you all will like it. Please tell me if there's anything in this one shot that might offend anyone, and I'll do my best to change it or clarify my thought process.
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Charlie was walking around in circles because of the fact that her dad was going to come over to the hazbin hotel for the first time.
And while everyone seemed quite unbothered, she couldn't calm down while Vaggie was currently helping Sir Pentious put up the decorations.
"You have been walking around in circles for the last fifteen minutes, darling," your voice was heard as you put a hand on Charlie's shoulder.
She stopped abruptly as she felt the weight on her shoulder and turned her head slightly to look into your eyes, "It's just been a while since I've seen him and I really want this to go well."
Her usual optimistic tone was much less energetic and confident as she started to look around, clearly avoiding your eyes.
You let out a sigh, a small smile finding its way to your lips as you cupped her chin between your thumb and forefinger, "There's nothing to panic about. I'm sure everything will go perfectly."
Your words seemed to calm the blonde down a bit as she gave you a slight nod, "I hope you're right," she muttered as you let go of her chin.
With that, Charlie made her way over to Vaggie to look at the decorations she had put up with Sir Pentious.
You just smiled at the sight when you suddenly heard a low static behind you, "She's been all over the place since the call," Alastor mused, his sharp grin never leaving his face.
Rolling your eyes at him, you opened your mouth to speak, "Let her be, she's trying her best."
"Oh, I know, my dear. I want the best for Charlie too," Alastor's words made you shake your head, knowing there was more to it, but even with you, he wasn't eager to share that information.
If you had known that you would be bound to him even in hell, you would have run as fast as you could in your mortal life.
But your 'lovely' husband had a way with words even then. Even if the two of you didn't marry for love, there was definitely something there.
Back in New Orleans, Alastor had a hard time because he was half Creole. He was always at a disadvantage because he did not fit into the standard, even though he tried his best to somehow blend in.
But radio was really the perfect solution and a passion of his. It even helped him because no one saw his face and only had to listen to his voice, which even he had forced to sound different, his usual deep tone becoming much higher to fit into the society.
And once he became famous, he even started to change his appearance. His usually dark brown wavy hair was straightened by him, while he also started to dress like the rest of the crowd.
But even then it never seemed to be enough. His tan complexion was still striking to some, as people began to gossip about him from time to time.
The prejudices against him never stopped, as people even started to question him because he wasn't married, making him out to be a cruel man who couldn't even find love, and that's where you came in, to get rid of at least one of the many talked about topics about him. At least then the people of New Orleans would know that Alastor really was a lovable man.
You really couldn't have cared less about the standards and the gossip that had made its way when Alastor started to pursue you back then. Even though he did not even reveal his intentions at first, you could still tell that there was more to it than just love in itself.
And even after he revealed his true intention behind a marriage, you accepted it. You didn't really have anything to lose anyway, and his charming words seemed to sway you somehow.
However, getting married and playing the role of a happily married couple had been a struggle. Both of you being at each other's throats, but never really being able to truly hate each other, was definitely odd.
But leaving that aside for now, there were more important matters at hand as you let go of your thoughts of the past.
"Just don't ruin this for her," your stern tone was obvious and with that you went over to help Niffty with cleaning up.
A few minutes passed and everything seemed to be perfect now, but not for Charlie.
"What if he hates the way the hotel looks?" She asked herself, her hands pulling tightly on her hair.
"He won't. You don't have to worry. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you at all," Vaggie said in a reassuring voice as she put an arm around her girlfriend's shoulder and gave her a small kiss on the forehead.
That little gesture made Charlie blush as she leaned against Vaggie, trying to calm herself, and when she felt ready, she made her way to the door.
"Okay everyone, it's showtime!" She said with a smile on her face, looking at everyone as the door was suddenly flung open by Lucifer, who said his daughters name and hugged her tightly.
Standing near the door, Alastor looked at the two of them with a crazy glint in his eyes and his never-ending smile showing his teeth.
And that's when you knew that this wasn't going to end well.
As Lucifer looked around the hotel, Alastor didn't seem happy at all, angry at the fact that he was being ignored.
"It's got a lot of character... What in the unholy hell is that?" Lucifer asked in a disbelieving tone, as a frown made its way onto his face.
Already knowing that Alastor wasn't going to hold back now, you let out a heavy sigh as you rubbed your temple.
"Just some of the renovations we had done. Adds a bit of color, don't you think?" Your husband's voice was heard as Lucifer then proceeded to ask who he even was.
And with the blink of an eye, Alastor is now at Lucifer's side. "I'm Alastor. Pleasure to be meeting you, sir. Quite a pleasure," he replied as he wiped his hand on his coat.
You were about to slam your head against the wall when you felt someone tugging at your dress. "He's a bad boy," Niffty said in an excited tone, staring at the King of Hell while you just felt a shiver run down your spine in disgust at your friend being lusted upon.
"You might have heard of me from my radio broadcast," Alastor said with a sinister grin on his face as he held his microphone. Knowing him, he loves to be acknowledged and it didn't look like Lucifer was going to give him any of that.
"Nope, I guess that's why Charlie called it the Hazbin Hotel," Lucifer said, emphasizing the 'haz'.
"Hahaha! It was actually my idea!"
"Hahaha! Well, it's not very clever!"
"Haha! Fuck you!"
Hearing that, you immediately made your way to Alastor as you and Charlie interrupted them, earning a look of shock from Lucifer.
"Is it really you?" Lucifer asked, his eyes wide as he looked at you. And before you could even answer, he threw himself at you, nearly crushing you to a second death and leaving you breathless.
"It's been years!" The King of Hell shouted as he let go of you to examine your face. You let out a chuckle, "It has indeed been a long time."
The interaction between the two of you naturally caught everyone's attention, as they all had a confused look on their faces, except for Alastor, who seemed to be losing his patience by the second.
Not even letting you two continue reminiscing, Alastor put an arm around your waist, causing you to gasp in surprise, as he wasn't usually the one to show off your relationship, especially to Overlords and anyone above that position.
"From where do you know him, my love?" Alastor's static-like voice was heard loud and clear as he pulled you even closer.
Before you could answer, Lucifer interrupted. "My love?!" He asked in disbelief and disgust.
"Oh, yes. 'My love,' the beautiful woman I'm so smitten by," Alastor was really putting on a show as he even planted a small kiss on your temple.
Your arm made its way around your husband's back as you pinched his waist in annoyance, eliciting a small static screech from Alastor.
"You really have some nerve, don't you?" you whispered in a caustic tone as your face came closer to his, wanting only him to hear it.
But even with that, the man dressed in red didn't shy away to take it completely somewhere else, "Just a few minutes, my darling. Then we'll have some time alone. Oh, and how she loves it, almost shameless, isn't she?" Alastor went on talking while you cursed him in your head.
You knew he was only doing it to rile Lucifer up, but of course the rest of them didn't know that.
"So Freaky Face does fuck," Angel Dust mused with a grin on his face as Husk slapped him on the back of the head.
"You sleep with that?" Lucifer asked in a disgusted tone as he ran towards you, pulling you out of Alastor's tight grip as he took a few steps away from your husband.
"Are you sure this is what you want for your future? Are you even sure it is worth of dating?" The short man asked you, almost even praying for you.
You apparently forgot to mention that you and Alastor have been married for decades, but you definitely wouldn't tell him that right now.
"It's a he," you simply replied.
"Well, I couldn't care less about it."
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wysteria-bloom · 28 days
Text
⚝ " i'll never smile again "
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The hazbin boys are visibly stressed
Warnings : I used female pronouns. There are mentions of Valentino. Highly suggestive in Vox's part because yeah it makes sense. Alastor offers to go on a murderous rampage with the reader 🥰
Genre : Fluff, suggestive
A/n : I hate the people in my life and they stress me tf out so I'm writing to vent my frustrations out. :) I only included my favs in this one but if you would like a part two with other characters then say the word.
Characters : Alastor, Vox, Lucifer
▢ vox ᯤ
- Offering sexual favours -
Vox growled to himself gently as he typed away at the screen in front of him, eyes honing in obsessively on the words and news articles.
He was on media control right now because fucking Val blew up on Angel in public today.
Now he's forced to get rid of every media that is sculpting Valentino out to be the bad guy.
Whoopee fucking doo.
"Fuckin' Val... stupid idiot.... stupidly hot idiot." He sighed out, running his hands down his face tiredly then his eyes widened with an idea,"... Where's my assistant."
"Here, sir."
"Fuckin' christ-!" He yelped out at the sudden voice and he spun around quickly in his chair, coming face to face with her amused little shit-eating grin. He glared, scowl on his lips," You been there the whole time?"
"Yes, sir." She nodded, hands folded in her lap modestly.
"You're a little creep, y'know that?"
"Yes, sir."
He sighed and rolled his shoulders, wincing at the painful cracks that resounded from them," You seen the media?"
She nodded," yes, quite the 'clusterfuck' as you would put it."
His lip twitched in amusement," perfect descriptor, honestly." He then clicked his fingers at the screen," Is Troy on today? Tell him to deal with the rest of the articles pl-"
"It's Troy's day off today, sir." (Name) interrupted, walking so she was standing next to him, she leaned over him a little to click away at the tabs he had opened," But I will call him to come in. You need rest." She replied promptly.
Vox watched her with an almost sleepy look in his eyes, watching her close down the articles with quick and manicured claws.
"What would I do without you, eh?" He hummed out.
A chuckle flitted from her lips and he found himself entranced by the sound of it," I think you'd do well for yourself without me, sir." She reassured with a gentle voice and stepped away from the desk a little, turning to face him," would you like me to accompany you to your room?"
He blinked and then smirked," how forward of you, sweetheart." He cooed out with that sultry tone of his," Take me out to dinner first, yeah?"
She tilted her head to the side with an owlish blink,"... Would you like to go to dinner? Would that be a better form of stress relief for you that the first option?"
His mouth fell open with a shocked look as he stared at her, a little buffering symbol in the top right corner of his screen for a moment before it disappeared, a dark blush appearing on his face," f-fuck wait... w-were you suggesting we..."
"We have sex? Yes. I hear it's a rather fantastic way of stress relief and you are a rather sexually frustrated individual so it would-"
He place a hand over her mouth as he stood from his chair, basically towering over her.
There was a hungry look in his eyes as he let that charming grin twitch onto his lips," You're about the best damn fuckin' assistant I've ever had."
She smiled beneath his hand and grabbed onto his wrist gently, maneuvering it so she could place an oh-so-gentle kiss to his wrist whilst looking into his eyes," I'm honoured, sir." She hummed out in a sultry fashion.
Vox gulped, his self-control snapping, red leaking from his mouth," I'm gonna fuck the shit outta you."
"I wouldn't have it any other way, sir."
▢ alastor ⍋
- Expressing your issues over a glass of giggle juice -
A sigh and a huff fell from her lips as she made her way into the hotel lobby, shoulders sagging from a long day of work.
There seemed to be nobody in the lobby as she walked over to the bar and poured herself out a glass of whiskey.
"Late-night drinking? That's not like you." The familiar static of Alastor graced her ears.
(Name) blinked and looked over to him, noticing how tensed his smile seemed. His eyes looked... genuinely exhausted. His ears flopped downwards ever so slightly.
"Looks like you should be joining me," She hummed back and grabbed another glass, wiggling it at him suggestively.
He watched it for a second before relaxing and grabbing it, sitting next to her at the bar and pouring the liquid. He took a sip with her and his smile seemed to curl in a more soft way now.
"Hm, I dare say my dear, that does just hit the spot doesn't it?" He hummed out, a more relaxed expression on his face.
"You can say that again. No wonder Husk is an alcoholic, I understand the appeal after having an awful day." She replied with a nod of agreement," yknow, sometimes I wish Hell was just a personal purgatory instead of me having to deal with other people's shit."
"Agreed. It gets tiring, doesn't it? Makes you want to go a little batshit insane, yes?" He said this with a polite tone of voice, ears perked up.
"I want to go on a murderous rampage every second of every day."
"We could join forces if it ever came to that. We would kill twice the amount of demons."
She grinned at him," how flattering. You'd go on a murder spree with me, Al?"
He pressed a hand to his heart to express his genuine sincerity," Dear, if I ever say no to a question like that then I give you my full and utter permission to kill me in the most brutal way you can think of." He replied honestly, and (name) didn't know whether to be flattered or concerned but she found herself laughing along anyways.
"What a charmer," She grinned at him brightly," You can be so romantic when you want to, hm?"
"Romance has nothing to do with it. It is merely etiquette." He tilted his head at her, resting it in the palm of his hand, expression seemingly brightened from just a conversation with her," what's got you so downtrodden?"
She deflated a little, smile tired," Overworked and under-appreciated for the work I do." She replied simply, taking a sip of her whiskey," I'll never smile again~" She sang sadly.
Alastor perked up at the familiar song," until I smile at youuu~" he serenaded, smile only widening at the sound of her amused laughter.
Then he looked her over, an almost disappointed glint in his eyes," I still wonder why you work for that insolent shitbox after all these years." His smile seemed to sharpen at the thought of Vox," He doesn't deserve you at all. Not a single bit."
(Name) shrugged," I'm helpless, what can I say?"
"You're not. You're a strong woman, (name). Stand up for yourself. And if you can't stand?" His eyes glowed sinisterly," Break his legs off so you can."
She stared on for a second before raising her glass," Most sound advice I've heard for years."
Alastor barked out an amused laugh and raised his hlass to hers, "For that compliment? I will break his legs for you if it is needed, darlin'. "
Clink went their glasses as they enjoyed each other's company for a while longer.
▢ lucifer morningstar ⚝
- Gentle caresses and positive affirmations -
"Okay so... meeting with the angels next week... then I have to call Michael- eugh cowabummer... then I have to-"
(Name) watched her friend flail around his office with a concerned frown on her lips, arms crossed over her chest.
He's been so stressed lately. He had that little break in between where he could just... chill.
And make his cute rubber duckies.
But now with everything in the hotel, he's had a lot more work on his shoulders. Specifically with Heaven, as unfortunate as that was.
She saw his claws scratching through his hair as he paced back and forth, as though he was entranced by all these... issues. He's so entranced he's forgotten she's there with him.
So she sighed and lifted herself from the wall and walked into his walk-cycle path, grabbing onto his shoulders before he could crash into her.
He blinked in surprise and met eyes with her, a dumbfounded expression on his face," Oh... Hey."
She smiled," Hey."
"Sorry, you've probably heard me complain enough lately. Your pretty ears must be burning with all the yapping-"
"Of course not, Lou..." She huffed out, interrupting him with a frown of disapproval. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his arms, rubbing gentle touches of comfort," I think you've got too much on your plate lately - you using me as an outlet to vent to is the least of my problems."
He deflated a little, a tiredly wry grin on his lips," You're... you're too nice, y'know that?"
"What? You'd rather I spit and degrade you~?" She flirted teasingly with a fanged grin.
"No thanks... for now." He then sighed and moved his head to rest on her chest, cheek smooshing against her collar bone," I need a vacation."
(Name) laughed as she threaded her fingers through his mussed-up hair gently and soothingly," You were basically on a vacation already, hon. Now's the time to get back to work. Put all those wonderful thoughts and dreams to good use."
He melted in her arms, closing his eyes slowly as he wrapped his arms around her waist. This felt more domestic than platonic, but the two of them were too focused on eachother to admit that.
"You'll stay, right? I like having you here." He mumbled tiredly," U-unless you don't wanna which I totally understand and a-accept... y'know, you don't have to be here if you don't want t-"
"Stop worrying you dummy." (Name) chuckled out,"... I'd love to stay here with you."
"Phew..." He huffed and grinned sharply," Good to hear... a-amazing to hear!... Y... you're the best."
"Don't I know it~!"
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gyuzgrl · 2 months
Text
off the market ||csc||
summary- You have a crush on your favourite customer. He's big and kind and pretty and god the things you wanted to do to him were unholy. Little do you know, he feels the exact same way.
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"welcome!"
That's all you said. All you could say. All it took for Seungcheol to fall hopelessly in love.
He was a regular at your pet daycare center. Him and his puppy Kkuma were there virtually every day, either to pick up a treat or to drop her off in your care for the day.
It was safe to say they were you favourite customers. Sure the dog was cute, but lord, Seungcheol had you acting like a schoolgirl whenever he came around. With his deep voice, his charming smile and god those arms- how could you resist?
You were almost certain however, that he wasn't interested. Sure, you'd caught him staring at you a couple times, sure it was a little odd how he'd tip you a small fortune every now and then, sure his hand lingered on yours for longer than necessary when paying, but there was no way, you were sure. No way a man like him was still on the market.
So you loved him from afar.
Well, as far as he'd let you go, at least.
"Kkuma!" you beamed, reaching out to take the eager fluff ball from Seuncheol's arms.
She snuggled into you, tongue lolling out as you scratched behind her ears.
"spoilt little princess, this one"
You look up to find Seungcheol's gaze fixed onto you.
"y-yeah, she's a little diva, aren't you baby?" you coo, "dropping her off again, Mr Choi?"
He hums, reaching closer to ruffle her fur, "work's gotten a bit much these days- timings are crazy y'know"
Your breath hitches at the sudden proximity. His hand was aimed at the dog, sure, but it was so close- ghosting over the plush skin of your upper chest.
Sucking in a sharp breath, you steady yourself.
"I can uh, I can imagine, sir. I'll keep her safe, don't you worry"
You say it out of duty, but something about that title has Seungcheol fighting demons in his head. Sir. Sir, you call him, like it's the simplest, sweetest thing in the world. Little do you know, behind the crescents of those pretty doe eyes, his thoughts are nothing but pure filth.
Hesitantly, he pulls away, clearing his throat.
"I'll be back in a couple hours, shouldn't be too long... thanks for keeping her"
"it's my job" you laugh, "you're paying me aren't you, sir?"
He coughs, eyes darting all over. Sir. There you go again.
"I'll um- I'll get going. Bye, y/n"
He turns around too quickly to see the crimson hue diffusing across your cheeks. God you loved the way he said your name. It rolled off his tongue so easily.
"bye-bye!" you call after him.
All your interractions had been similar to this. He'd stop by, make polite conversation and leave. But still, still your heart thudded in your chest at the thought of him. He was just so perfect.
A couple of hours later, you hear the door open. It's late at night, so your first instinct is to grab something sharp before you make your way to the cash register out front.
Meekly, you tiptoe outside, clutching a pair of kuromi scissors in your fist.
"y/n?" a familiar voice calls.
It's just Seungcheol. Good.
You breathe a sigh of relief, walking out right away as you greet him with that million dollar smile of yours.
"welcome!"
"hope Kkuma wasn't too much of a mena-" he pauses, glancing down at your hand, "what's up with the scissors?"
"oh- uh, nothing nothing, just as a safety measure- I didn't know it was you so..."
He tenses, unsure of how to feel. On one hand, you insinuated that you felt safe around him, while on the other, you think you're unsafe in the store.
"can I walk you home?"
You're stunned. Your legs feel like jelly and you can barely process his words.
"can you what"
"walk you home. If you feel uncomfortable walking alone this late, that is. I live a minute away, and it really wouldn't be a hassle to step out for a seco-"
"I couldn't ask that of you sir," you interrupt, "it's not that big of a deal either way"
"you aren't asking. I'm offering. and it is a big deal, y/n. I want you to be safe, to feel safe."
Oh that one went straight to your cunt.
"I-" you hesitate.
"look, I'm here almost every day anyways- if that makes you feel any better. if you're gonna refuse, don't do it 'cause you think I'd be inconvenienced. I won't." he says, now gently prying the scissors out of your grasp, "but if you honestly just don't want me to walk you home, I'll back off"
"no it's not that-" you add, urgently.
"how 'bout we try it out today, and you tell me if you wanna continue, that okay?"
You nod, lowering your head in a lame attempt to hide the furious red glow of your cheeks. Seungcheol seems to have noticed already, though. He places the scissors onto the register beside you, and turns to look into your eyes.
When he finds you staring up at him already, he's pleasantly surprised. There's a long silence- a pause in time- and the air around you stills. It's just you and him, gazing into each other's eyes, gauging what the other feels.
He must not know how intimidating his stare is, considering how he refuses to look away. That is until, of course, he spies movement in his vision.
Your hands are shaking. You didn't know they were, until Seungcheol's gaze leaves your own, dropping to your trembling hands.
He steps closer.
"your hands are all jittery today" his voice is low and gentle, "why're you so nervous?"
The space between you lessens as he moves closer, his hand reaching over to hold your trembling one, interlacing his fingers with yours.
You suck in a sharp breath, letting it go in a staccato shudder.
"do I make you nervous?"
Your eyes, wide and round, dart across the room, opting to look anywhere but at him.
"do I?" he pushes, squeezing your hand.
"I-" you start, "I just um- it's a bi-"
Your words are cut off by a shrill bark.
Fuck. Kkuma. You forgot about Kkuma.
"Kku-Kkuma," you stutter, ripping your hand out of his grasp, "I gotta get her out"
He groans, his arm chasing after you as you whip your head around and scurry into the play room. He was so close- he almost got through to you.
His frustrations subside instantly, however, when you return, carrying a sleepy Kkuma in your arms. How the little puppy nuzzled into you, so safe and comfortable, made Seungcheol's heart ache. Kkuma's instincts were never wrong.
"c'mere princess," he coos, and you look up at him with wide eyes. Did he just-
His eyes are on you, knowingly. "missed me, didn't you Kkuma?"
Oh. Right. The dog.
Seungcheol's gaze remains fixed on you, a teasing smirk playing at his lips as you draw closer.
"you're all red" he grins, "here lemme take her" Before you manage to protest, his hands graze the skin of your forearm as he scoops Kkuma out of your embrace and into his.
It was brief, the contact, but you felt something akin to electricity when his fingertips touched your skin. The glow on your cheeks only brightened in response and he bit back a laugh.
"I'll- I should lock up"
"mm you go do that,"
Even with your back turned, you can feel his eyes burning into you, an attentive stare watching all your actions- how you locked up the register, switched off the lights, reached up to pull your shutters closed.
It was endearing to him. You worked so hard everyday, did so much all alone. All he wanted was to help, really.
So he does.
As you nod towards the door, signalling that you're ready to head out, Seungcheol follows.
You pull the main entrance closed, reaching up on tiptoes to yank the outer shutters down, struggling to hook your fingers into the handle. He notices. Of course he does.
Silently, he brushes up against you, his chest dangerously close to your back. His arm extends above your own and he pulls the handle down with ease.
Your brain short circuits.
"what are y-" you gasp, turning around to face him. The air he breathes out fans across your face and his eyes are set on you. This was dangerous. The proximity between your bodies, the warmth of his breath, the way his eyes darted down to your lips- it was too much.
"y/n,"
"yes?"
There's a pause. Seungcheol's brows scrunch up as if he's trying to find the right words to say.
"you don't have to think so hard, Mr Choi," you offer, staring up him with wide eyes.
"Seungcheol." he states, "call me Seungcheol"
You're so taken aback you miss the desperate "please" he adds in at the end of his sentence.
"Seungcheol,"
"sounds so pretty when you say it"
There's a pull between your bodies. It's gradual and painfully slow, but you both feel it. He leans in, eyes darting to your lips, and your eyes flutter closed.
Hot breaths fan your face as you wait for him to kiss you, each exhale burning against your skin.
"is this okay?" he murmurs.
You try to say yes, to say something, but all that comes out is a shaky exhale. Lips parted, lashes fluttering, you looked so pretty. He couldn't resist the way you drew him in.
Slowly inching closer, Seungcheol presses his lips to yours in a soft kiss. It's tentative, hesitant, almost, like he doesn't want to scare you away. His plump lips cradle yours so gently, it's like he's barely even there.
You draw back, breathing hard. "we shouldn'-" you start, turning your head away, before he cups your jaw and pulls you in once again.
This time he works urgently against you, sucking at your lower lip so fervently, it leaves you breathless. Any semblance of doubt leaves your mind, and you pull him closer, fisting his shirt.
It takes everything in you to hold yourself together when his tongue licks at the seam of your mouth, demanding entrance. While he explores the hollow of your mouth, your hands roam the expanse of his broad shoulders, feeling each hard-earned muscle tense under your touch.
Your lungs burn for air, pleading for sustenance, even for a second, but his grip on you stays firm, holding you in place. Feeling woozy from the lack of oxygen, you have to push him away, almost, fisting his hair with one hand and tugging him back.
Finally, you breathe.
"woah, there-" he grins, when your knees buckle, causing you to faceplant into his chest.
You groan, muffled by the fabric of his shirt.
"c'mon, let's get you home, hm? we should probably sit down and uh, talk." he mutters, motioning between you and him, "about this, I mean"
"yeah let's- let's go home"
The walk is surprisingly pleasant. Any expected awkwardness, any uncomfortable tension, seems to have vanished.
You chat as you walk side by side, Seungcheol holding Kkuma's leash while you hold onto his free arm. It's painfully domestic, honestly. Your heart thuds violently in your chest with every step you take with him.
"...and then she told Hansol to call her his cutie sexy baby- you should've seen the look on all our faces, I wanted to quit my job then and there-" he shivers as he narrates an incident to you, and you giggle away like a schoolgirl. The way Seungcheol made you smile so effortlessly was commendable. No matter when he showed up, what he said, where he was going, he always made you smile.
"poor him," you offer, sympathetically, grinning from ear to ear as you neared your apartment. "this is me,"
"if you're tired from today, we can talk sometime else, oka-"
You interrupt him with a tiny peck on his lips, earning a look of disbelief in response.
"god help me"
Which is how you've found yourself here- stumbling out of the elevator with his lips pressed on yours, hands grabbing feverishly at the flesh of your hips.
"wai- Seungcheol hold on-" you giggle, fumbling to thumb in your house code.
He backs away, pouting and looks down at Kkuma apologetically.
"come in"
There's a hint of tension in the air now, with everything becoming far more tangible than before. This is happening. This is real.
You beckon him over to the couch, letting Kkuma settle on a rug somewhere in the kitchen, slowly drifting to sleep.
He sits beside you, leaving respectful distance.
"I uh, I don't want this to seem like I'm just fucking around- I don't usually do this,"
"do what?"
"this" he motions between your bodies. "I've been wanting this, wanting you, for so long you have no idea"
"oh-" You feel the breath knocked out of your lungs. Seungcheol felt the same way you did? He's wanted you for all this time, just like you've wanted him?
"I'd like to take you out on a date. Properly. I really like you, y/n-"
It's a miracle you don't melt into a puddle of mush then and there.
Choi Seungcheol. Hot customer. Has feelings for you.
"and it's okay if you don't feel the same way- really- I just uh, didn't wanna kiss you and leave things unspecified"
"I-" you start, staring up at him as you searched for the right words to say, "I like you too"
His face softens, a soft smile taking over his lips. You feel an all too-familiar heat growing between your legs.
"I'm glad"
The distance between your bodies is bridged by his hand- a galiant soldier crossing borders into foreign territory. It slides over yours, interlacing your fingers in a firm knot.
A sharp breath puffs out your lips, and all you can do is say his name. You aren't sure why, you aren't sure what you're asking for, but you call him- your voice airy and desperate.
"Seungcheol,"
"hm?"
Words escape you. There's nothing you can find in yourself to say. You stare into his eyes, watching the way the brown of his irises hold your picture within them.
"oh, sweetheart..."
And his lips are on yours.
Seungcheol guides your hand to his shoulder, sliding his own to your waist as he draws you closer. The way your lips mold against each other is nothing short of perfect, like you were made for eachother.
He nips at your lower lip, dragging it as he pulls back ever so slightly, and you can't help but moan. He grins. Your face grows beet red and you pull away, panting, embarrassed.
"you're adorable, y'know that?"
"shut up"
"you've got a lotta attitude for someone who can't handle more than a little teasing"
"I- I can handle more" you argue, brows furrowing as you shuffle closer to him.
"oh?"
Your eyes widen.
"n-no I didn't mean it like tha-"
"like what?" he smirks. "how'd you mean it then?"
You lower your gaze, opting to stare instead at the fabric of his trousers. Seungcheol hooks a digit under your chin and tilts your head right back up, forcing you to look at him, cheeks burning.
"who're you hiding from, hm?"
"m'sorry," you breathe, looking at him through your lashes.
"I wanna make you feel good," he mumbles as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ears. "may I?"
It's a simple thing- asking for permission- but it has your heart fluttering. He asks you 'may I?' like he's at your mercy. Like you have him bewitched. He'd do anything and everything you ask of him, now more than ever.
You nod, leaning in to kiss him yet again, before he lifts you off the couch and into the bedroom. His strong arms hold you steady, and all your worries fade away. All the questions in your head dissipate, until all that's left is him.
Only him.
"this okay?" he murmurs, placing you on the bed.
"more than okay"
"I'm gonna take this off now, hm?" Deft hands slide up your torso, lifing your shirt off to reveal the lacy bra underneath. He has to pause for a moment to compose himself at the sight.
"so pretty,"
"Seungcheool" you whine, tugging his hands to your breasts, "touch me"
Any resolve he'd built up, to control himself for you, comes crumbling down.
Like a man starved, Seungcheol devours you, placing hungry, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach as he trails his lips to the cup of your bra.
He kisses the swell of your breasts, while his hand slides under your back, unclipping the garment with ungodly precision. You gasp when your nipples brush against the loosened fabric, sensitive and hard.
"fuck," he drawls when he tosses your bra aside to reveal your bare chest. Seungcheol kisses the tender skin, taking one of your nipples into his mouth while his hand caresses the other, pinching at the sensitive bud.
His actions elicit a whine on your part, back arching into him with every swivel of his tongue, every pinch of his fingers. There's a dark grin painted across his handsome face when he pulls away, looking down at you.
"look so pretty under me, sweetheart"
You turn away, bashfully, feeling small under the weight of his stare. It's hot, how Seungcheol's self-assurance radiates off of him. He's confident but not pushy, not arrogant like the other boys you've been with. The prolonged eye contact feels more intimate than anything you've ever experienced- just you and him, gazing at each other like the world outside is a problem for another day. Right now, nothing exists but the two of you.
A hand travels down the valley of your breasts to the hem of your pants, teasing the skin right under the waistband. He wants to savor this, to savor you. But god you're so desperate he can't bear the thought of dragging this out any longer.
"gonna make you feel good, yeah sweetheart? would you like that?"
"please" you whimper, rubbing your thighs together.
Anticipation swells in your belly as Seungcheol crawls down to face your cunt, keeping his eyes fixed on yours with each sultry motion. He grasps the button of your pants with his teeth, tugging it open before his hands slide them down your legs, fingers ghosting over the smooth flesh of your thighs.
"pretty, pretty girl"
Shamelessly, he spreads you open, rubbing along your slit through your soaked panties.
"fuck baby- you're dripping" he groans, pressing the fabric into your folds. Your body jerks at the touch, and you let out a pathetic whimper.
"all of this 'cause of me? such a good girl" he coos.
"all 'cause of you Cheol- fuck- only you"
That was it. Seungcheol considered himself a patient man, usually, but tonight? God, he wanted to rip those flimsy panties off of you and have you cum on his tongue again and again until you were crying.
In one swift motion, he leaves you bare, shoving your panties in his back pocket like some kind of trophy. His tongue finds your hole, dipping in just a little to collect your arousal before dragging it up to your clit.
"oh-"
You feel him grin against you, lapping at your clit slightly faster now. Your hands fly down to hold him in place, back arching as loud moans flood the room. You can't recall the last time a man has made you feel this good. Heck, you can't recall if they ever have.
"please- fuck don't stop don't stop," you whine, hips rolling up to match the rhythm of his tongue.
He groans when he realizes how you're using him for your pleasure, sending tingles across your skin.
"that's it, sweetheart- fuck that's my good girl" he mumbles against your cunt.
You feel your high approaching with the expert flick of Seungcheol's tongue, and you pull him closer in a desperate attempt to reach your orgasm. He senses you're close with the way your thighs begin to tense and quiver under his hold, so he slyly slips a finger into you, without warning, sending you straight over the edge in seconds.
Your voice breaks as you moan, head tipping back into the pillows as he pumps his finger in and out of your heat, working you through your orgasm.
"there we go, pretty- just like that, shit"
Seungcheol licks you clean, sending sparks shooting up your spine, before drawing back up to your lips to pull you into a messy, sticky kiss.
You taste yourself on his tongue, moaning as he licks into your mouth like he'd die if he didn't. The friction against your bare skin draws you back to reality, and you realize he's still clothed
"w-wait-" you pant, planting your hands on his chest.
He pulls away, eyes fluttering back open in confusion.
"what's wrong? d'you wanna sto-"
"no!" you interrupt, eyes widening. "not at all- I just..." you trail off, tugging at his shirt.
He chuckles.
"you just?"
"y'know" you reply, coy as ever, grasping his shirt once again.
"words, sweetheart, gotta tell me what you want" His voice is teasing, playful.
"your- your shirt..." you pout.
"mhm what about it?"
You glare up at him, brows setting into a deep frown. "don't be mean c'mon,"
"say it and I'll stop, promise"
"t-take your shirt off," you mutter, blushing wildly, "wanna see you"
He cocks a brow at you and you hastily add in a desperate "please", leaving him satisfied. Without wasting any more time, he settles back on his knees for a moment, yanking his shirt off to reveal his sculpted form.
Your mouth hangs open.
Sure, you figured he was fit- those arms were a dead giveaway- but this took the cake. Hard, chiseled muscles greeted you, sculpted by the gods themselves, and you felt your mouth water.
"oh wow" you breathe, reaching up to touch him and feel those muscles for yourself.
He grins, hovering back over you.
"perv"
"have I told you how much I like you?"
There's a pause, before you break out into a fit of giggles, grinning at each other like two lovesick teenagers.
Seungcheol shimmies his pants off too, kicking them away, leaving only his boxers on.
"are you gonna-"
"eat you out again? yes. yes I am."
You smack his chest, rolling your eyes.
"you can do that tomorrow- I wanna... wanna feel you," you whisper, "wanna feel you in me"
He mutters a quick "fuck" under his breath, hastily shoving his boxers down as he balances his weight on one arm.
"are you sure, sweetheart?"
"mhm"
"anytime you wanna stop jus-"
"just tell you, yes sir" you quip, rolling your eyes yet again, only this time, you take notice of the way his gaze darkens at your words.
Oh this is going to be fun.
"sir," you whine, rolling you hips up into his, "please- please fuck me I've been good, haven't I?"
You're unsure of where this sudden boost of confidence has come from, but Seungcheol's blown pupils and parted lips spur you on.
"I'll be so good for you, sir- promise," you pout.
"do you even- fuck do you even know what you're doing to me right now?"
"mhm"
"brat-" he snarls, dragging his cock against your folds. You moan, losing whatever semblance of power you managed to build.
"that's better,"
You're about to bite back, say something mean, but he interrupts, pushing his dick inside you, slow but firm.
"you're- fuck you're so big" you whimper, eyes welding themselves shut at the stretch of your walls. "it won't f-fit"
"I'll make it fit, I promise baby I won't hurt you, hm?"
You nod, tears welling up in your eyes when he pushes further. He was huge. Your toys had nothing on him. Nothing.
"shh sweetheart you're doing so well for me," he coos, pressing in until he bottoms out.
Your eyes brim over and you sniffle, trying to accomodate his size. It takes a minute, with him kissing your tears away and mumbling into your hair, but you finally give him the green light.
Automatically, his hips draw back and snap into you, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. His size was overwhelming, almost. He hit your g-spot effortlessly with each inward motion, and your brain fuzzed over with pleasure.
All you could think, all you could say, was him.
seungcheol, seungcheol, seungcheol- you chanted his name like a prayer, any notions of god, of a higher being, leaving your mind with him taking their place.
He held your life in the palm of his hand, commanding metaphorical deaths with his body. You'd be happy to die in his arms every night, and rise like phoenixes with the sun- souls unified after the previous night's escapades.
The steady but firm edge to his thrusts have you sobbing, crying on his dick, begging for something even you aren't sure of. Your cries echo through the room, followed by the sound of skin on skin. Your neighbours won't like this one bit, you'll definitely be in trouble tomorrow, but you can't bring yourself to stop.
He just feels so good.
"s-seungcheol I- please m'so close please please ple-" you sob, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him even closer.
He leans into your lips, capturing them between his own. It isn't a kiss. Your mouths hang open, moaning and sighing into each other with breaths so hot you feel like you're on fire. Like you're alive.
Distracted by the heat generated by your enmeshed breaths, you fail to notice how his hand creeps down to your clit. You cry out when his fingers make contact with the sensitive flesh, rubbing tight circles into you as his thrusts increase in speed.
"m'gonna- sir m'gonna cu-" you moan, cutting yourself off when you feel your body slip into pleasure. Your throat has gone bone-dry, like the last time you touched water was when you were in the womb.
"shit-" he curses, using you to finish himself off, before quickly following suit and finishing on your thighs.
"you're so beautiful- you're so goddamn beautiful" he rambles, collapsing on top of you.
Your throat hurts, and all you can do is wheeze as you try to soothe your burning lungs.
He notices, and grins to himself, ripping his body off of yours- "wait here, I'll be back".
He's gone for a minute, before returning with a towel and some water. "here" he says, holding the glass to your lips as you shuffle to sit up, "drink."
While you do that, he crawls back between your legs and gently wipes away the mess he made on your thighs.
It's basic decency, you know it is, but you can't help the way your heart flutters at how caring Seungcheol is.
"thank you" you murmur, cringing at the sting in your throat.
He looks confused for a moment.
"f-for cleaning me up"
God you were so cute. He couldn't bear it any longer.
"I always will, you don't need to say anything, sweetheart"
You blush, for the nth time that night, grinning from ear to ear as you're hit with realisation.
Choi Seungcheol is officially off the market.
1K notes · View notes
roosterforme · 3 months
Text
Explicitly Yours | Bob Floyd x Reader
Summary: When Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most.
Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, misogyny, language, mentions of adult film industry
Length: 11k words (what have I done?)
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Former Pornstar!Female Reader
This was written for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month hosted by @attapullman. Check my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger
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Bob was fresh off of a long deployment when he returned to work at North Island on Monday morning to find he would begin training as part of a new taskforce. He was tired and antsy, still overstimulated from being around so many people on the aircraft carrier, but he was also realizing how lonely he was. 
He'd arrived back to a sterile, empty, dusty apartment, slept for two days, and now he was back to work. He couldn't even have a cat or a houseplant. He really would like to have a cat or a houseplant. Mostly he thought about how nice it would be to have a girlfriend. A sweet one who would wait for him to return home so his apartment didn't feel so sad. One who didn't mind that sometimes he preferred it to be quiet. One who would let him dote on her a little bit when he was home.
When he was told to report to Classroom Six in his uniform instead of the tarmac in his flight suit, Bob knew it was going to be a long day. That idea only grew as soon as he walked in and was accosted by his friends. "You're back!" Natasha screeched, streaking across the room like a brunette cannonball and slamming into his arms. "It's not even fair that we weren't deployed together. I missed you!"
"Missed you too, Nat. Thanks for all the emails."
Then he felt Bradley, Jake and Javy all jostling him around until his glasses were crooked on his face. That's probably why he did a double take when he saw you. There was no way you were that beautiful. His glasses must need to be adjusted on his face. But he was wrong. You looked the same after he pushed his wire frames back into place. 
He swallowed hard and whispered, "Who's that?"
The guys all looked at him with matching smirks, and Javy told him your name. "Civilian. She's Warlock's new assistant. Got reassigned from a different department last week."
"She's real cute," Jake added. "And she looks so familiar."
"Why does she look so familiar?" Bradley asked, and Bob realized that the whole group was staring at you where you were conversing quietly with Warlock. "We've been trying to figure it out for a week."
You didn't look familiar to Bob. You just looked pretty with bright eyes and a friendly smile, both of which were trained on him now. Of course you were looking his way now, because everyone had mussed up his hair and wrinkled his uniform. He didn't mind so much that you caught him staring, because you were the kind of woman who must get that a lot.
"Lieutenant Floyd," Admiral Bates said as he stood, and Bob saluted his superior officer immediately. "Welcome back."
"Sir," Bob replied, doing his best not to let his gaze drift back to you. "Thank you."
Then Warlock called the room to order, and Bob ended up sitting in the front row, directly across from you. Barely six feet away. You were so pretty, it wasn't even funny. The curve of your face and your neck and the way you moved were mesmerizing. Smooth and fluid. Confident. Beautiful. You kept Warlock on task and seemed to have all the pertinent information about the class memorized. But all of it was lost on Bob, because he was way too distracted. 
By lunchtime, he had sweat through his undershirt, and he was sure his uniform shirt wasn't looking much better. The way you turned to look directly at him with a slightly guarded expression when you stood made him blush. It must be obvious to you that Bob couldn't keep his eyes off your face.
"Hi," you greeted. "Lieutenant Floyd."
Bob swallowed hard before something that sounded vaguely like Hello came out of his mouth. 
Your smile was tinged with a little sadness as you stuck out your hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting the last team member. Welcome back from deployment, Lieutenant."
And then you were walking away, but Bob was still sweating.
--------------------------
For the next four days, Bob got there early to ensure he had that same front row seat. He had a full blown crush. Heart pounding, palms damp, unable to focus on anything other than his crush on you. When he wasn't at work looking right at you, he was daydreaming about you. When he wasn't daydreaming about you, he was asleep and having actual dreams where you were his girlfriend. In one of them, you gave him a back massage, and he woke up with an erection. 
He could barely even look at you for the nauseous feeling that took up residence just below his pounding heart, but he couldn't look anywhere else. He'd never been like this before. Sure, he'd been attracted to many women in the past, but this was something else entirely. 
"But why is she so familiar looking?" Jake asked Bradley at lunch. "You sure you didn't fuck her?"
"Oh, I think I'd remember fucking someone that looked like that," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Wait... did you fuck her?"
"I don't think so?" Jake replied, looking a little panicked. "She's not the one I went home with on my birthday, is she? Because you know I can't remember that night. And if I fucked her and can't remember it, then I deserve to be executed."
They both erupted into laughter with Javy, and Bob felt deflated. One of the three of them was definitely going to ask you out sooner rather than later, and instead of getting an occasional guarded glance in his direction, Bob would have nothing.
That night at the bar, he sat with his cup of peanuts and talked with Nat about work while everyone else played pool. "I guess we have another week or two of lectures ahead of us, but I can't wait to get back in the air."
"Yeah," Bob replied, glancing around the room in case the Hard Deck was your Friday night scene. It wasn't really his, but he came for his friends. And if he got to spend another week or two in the classroom, he wasn't going to complain; there would be no way for him to look at you when he was in the cockpit. 
"Bob!" Javy called as if he'd been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. He was waving a pool cue. "Take over for me. I need to go shoot my shot."
As Bob stood, he watched Javy head off into the crowd toward a woman who looked like you. He did a double take, his heart leaping up into his throat as Bradley started to push him closer to the pool table. Javy saw you. He was going to ask you out. A feeling of devastation filled his lungs, but then the woman turned around, and it wasn't you. Her smile wasn't nearly as pretty, and she didn't have the same eyes. 
Relieved, Bob sank the seven ball before running the table like he was some sort of pro. But he knew deep inside that he was going to have to ask you out himself or miss out on even having a chance with you. 
Every day the following week, he tried to give himself a pep talk. He could do this. Even if you said no, it would be fine. It would be good practice for him. But he knew it would not be okay. He liked the sound of your voice and the way you moved, and he thought about you in every room of his apartment doing a wide variety of things. Some of them made him blush.
He couldn't tell if it would be worse to never even try or to have to live with himself after you looked at him and said you weren't interested. At least if he kept things quiet, the guys couldn't find a way to make fun of him. And although they all liked to talk about you at lunch, to his knowledge, none of them had asked you on a date. Maybe they were as intimidated as him.
On Wednesday, you dropped your pen, and Bob picked it up for you. He got a "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd," in response along with a cautious smile. Then on Thursday, he helped you move the projector before class started, and you said, "Thanks. You're a lot stronger than I am." He felt like he floated to his seat after that. 
On Friday, disaster struck. You were organizing your stack of notes at the end of the day when Bob stood. But then Bradley was there, leaning on the table in front of you after everyone had been dismissed. "Hey, so the guys and I were wondering if you ever made it out to the Hard Deck on Friday nights? I'd love to buy you a drink."
Bob nearly collapsed back into his seat as he watched your eyes searching Bradley's face like you were trying to tell if he was lying. "No, actually. I play Dungeons & Dragons most Friday nights."
A strangled sound escaped Bob. "You play D&D?" he asked before he could think better of it. 
"Yeah," you replied easily, giving him a little smile. "Been into it for years."
"Me too," he added, and you set down everything you'd been holding. 
"It must be hard to be part of a campaign when you deploy on occasion?" you asked, and Bob was convinced he wouldn't notice if a freight train was about to hit him. 
He nodded and took a step closer, watching you stand up. "It can be, yeah. But I've been in the same campaign for a few years, so I'd like to think I'm an integral enough part of it that everyone else doesn't mind waiting for me."
You laughed. It was so pretty. "I'm sure they don't mind one bit, Lieutenant Floyd."
"You can call me Bob," he blurted out, eyes going wide as you licked your lips and grinned. 
"Okay. Bob."
He could do this. He was already part way there, he thought. Just a little further. "Maybe you and I could get coffee this weekend and talk about our characters?"
When he was met with silence and your softly parted lips, he wanted to disappear. But your expression was trained on his face, and even though you still seemed a little hesitant, you asked, "Like a date? Because I'm free on Sunday."
-------------------------
You were laughing so hard, you had to set your coffee cup down next to your scone, and Bob was basking in the sound of it. "No, Bob! That's why I made my character a Rogue! Because I could never be such a scoundrel in real life!" He just listened to your laughter taper off while he grinned in the middle of the crowded cafe where you only seemed to be focused on him. 
"Well, that's why I made mine a Sorcerer. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I can't actually cast spells."
You started to laugh again. "Could have fooled me." But he must have been looking at you for too long, because you brought your hand up to your lips and asked, "Do I have crumbs on my face or something?"
"No, your face is perfect," he replied without considering his words, but your look of slightly embarrassed delight outweighed the tinge of mortification he felt.
You searched his eyes, seemingly always trying to gauge his sincerity. Then you surprised him when you said, "You're really sweet. It's refreshing." 
Bob looked down at his hands, unsure how to respond but pleased nonetheless. "Will you let me take you to a movie? Or dinner? Or both?"
"Yes."
The following morning at work, you were as focused on Bob as he was on you. The sweaty palms and erratically beating heart were back, only exacerbated by your alluring gaze and the promise of a second date on Thursday night. You agreed to dinner at an Italian restaurant, and Bob was already excited. 
"Why are you acting so strange?" Nat asked at lunchtime. "You're like both weirdly quiet and also talking so much?"
Bob laughed and said, "I went out on a date yesterday." And when he said it was with you, her eyes went wide. "We're going out again on Thursday."
"Bob!" she gasped, and now all of the guys were looking at him, and there was no way he would ever recover from this as Nat told them he got coffee with you.
"Welcome to the big leagues, buddy," Jake drawled, while Bradley glared at him. "Just wish I could figure out why she seems so familiar. Like it's just stuck in the back of my mind somehow. Like I know her."
"None of you know her as well as Bob does," Nat said with a laugh that made him smile. Before you and he parted ways at the coffee shop, you'd squeezed his hand in your smaller one, and it was already one of the sexiest moments of his life.
"Fuck you, Bob," Bradley grumbled. 
But it didn't matter. Bob really liked you and the fact that you talked about your Dungeons & Dragons character for a full hour. And your pretty face and your laugh. And the way you seemed interested in what he had to say. You were checking off all of the boxes for him. Smart, funny, kind of nerdy, interesting. He wondered how many dates he should take you on before asking you to be his girlfriend.
On Wednesday, as soon as Warlock dismissed everyone, you handed Bob a folded up note.
I can't wait for dinner tomorrow night. Here's my number.
He waited until he was home and sitting on his couch before he texted you. Less than a minute later, you responded. And that's how he spent the rest of his night. He didn't even eat until after nine, too wrapped up in what you had to say. Those intrusive thoughts and daydreams and real dreams about you in his apartment were starting to seem like they could be a reality. That's what he wanted. He could already picture you on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan his mom made, watching a movie with him. Or in his kitchen, helping him make dinner. 
He fell asleep on the couch in his uniform, too absorbed in this conversation to even go to bed properly. But that was fine, because suddenly it was Thursday, and not only would he see you all day at work, he'd get to eat with you and learn more about you.
Once again, Bob slid into that front row seat, and you had to work at keeping the smile from your face all morning. When you did look his way, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He was sure he'd pass out if you kissed him, and suddenly that was the only thing he could think about. Warlock talked about aggressive maneuvering, and Bob thought about your lips. Warlock talked about safety protocols, and Bob thought about your lips touching his.
It would be a miracle if he made it through dinner, but he had to try. You stood and started walking out of the classroom at the end of the day, but you turned back and said, "I'll meet you there at 7:30."
Bob offered to pick you up, but you said you'd drive yourself, and now he had more than two hours to kill. He took a long shower and fixed his hair before dressing in the outfit that Nat had pre-approved for him. He made sure his glasses were straight and that he had his credit card. The only other thing he could do was hope the conversation would come as easily for him this time, as it had over coffee.
He shouldn't have been worried about that. What he should have been worried about was the way his heart stopped when you walked through the front doors of the restaurant and directly for him, wearing a pretty blue dress with your face all made up like he was someone to impress. 
"Hi, Bob," you whispered. Then you kissed his cheek at the same time that he started to turn his head, and his lips nudged yours. He stood there shocked as you slipped your hand into his, and you started to tug him toward the waiting table when his name was called. 
His ears didn't stop burning the whole night. His brain kept circling back to the idea of another kiss. An intentional one. A kiss after a second date was not something he'd ever attempted before, but he was going to do it tonight. Based on the way you were looking at him, he had to. 
"Do you want more wine?" you asked, holding up the bottle. 
"Yes, please," he replied, because that would definitely help his cause. 
You smiled as you poured him some. "You have lovely manners." When you set the bottle down, you added, "And really pretty eyes."
Bob counted to three and then said, "I know we didn't even eat dessert yet, but I really like you. And tomorrow is your D&D night, but maybe you'll let me take you to a movie on Saturday?"
After dinner, in the parking lot next to your car, Bob kissed you. Intentionally. The first tilt of his head was hesitant, and when his lips met yours, he started to get nervous and pull away. But you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and you chased him for another kiss. "Which movie are we seeing?" you asked as you rubbed your nose gently along his.
"You can pick," he replied before kissing you again. "I just want to be around you." And then his hands found the small of your back and you inched yourself closer until your chest was touching his and your knee was bumping his leg.
You were smiling when he finally pulled his face away from yours. "I'll text you my address and the movie I want to see."
Bob smiled, too. "And then I'll pick you up, and we can go to the theater."
This was probably the best week of his life. He watched you pull out of the parking lot, and you waved to him through your window after you blew him a kiss. He went home and thought about what he might be able to cook for date number four. Perhaps you'd want to do the movie on Saturday and then have dinner at his place on Sunday? He'd figure it out. Either way, he was excited for more. 
"A third date?" Nat asked on Friday when everyone was taking a break in the classroom. "Damn, Bob." 
He eyed you where you stood talking quietly with Warlock, and you glanced his way, a soft smile on your lips. "I really like her. She's different. In a good way. And she makes me feel comfortable."
Nat rubbed his back in slow circles. "Make sure you put your arm around her during the movie. She might be expecting it. But if she doesn't snuggle against you, then you should remove it."
He nodded and swallowed. "Right. I can do that. Is it too soon to invite her over to my apartment for dinner?"
"I don't think so," she replied softly. "And maybe you should buy some condoms."
Bob's cheeks immediately flushed, but he didn't mind too much, since it was just Nat. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet."
"She seems sweet. Just tell her what you're feeling when the time comes."
Now everything was making Bob a little nervous as he drove through your neighborhood on Saturday night. He passed modern beachfront house after modern beachfront house, and then his GPS told him he had arrived. He saw your car in the driveway, but the house was gorgeous and must be worth a ton of money. Maybe you had a roommate? 
He parked his old truck and headed up the sidewalk with butterflies in his stomach and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You opened the door before he even knocked, and then you were in his arms and invading his senses. "Are those for me?" you asked, kissing his cheek and poking the flowers. 
"Yes," he whispered, silently begging you to let him hold you for a few more seconds while he caught his breath and got himself under control. You turned him on in every way, and he'd never encountered this before. 
Your soft voice next to his ear as you chuckled and said, "Thanks, Bob," was not helping. You led him inside, and your house was incredible. There were no signs of a roommate, but there was a view of the ocean from the windows along the back of the house. He watched you bend in your little dress to find a vase for the flowers, and he felt completely overwhelmed. 
"Ready to go?" you asked, reaching for his hand a minute later. Your eyes were eager and sincere as you gazed up at him. Your fingers were laced with his, and Bob realized if he wanted to get to the next step with you, he needed to get through tonight.
"Yes." He kissed your lips softly, and you leaned against his arm as he walked you out to his truck. 
You spent the drive to the movie theater telling him all about your Friday night playing Dungeons & Dragons, and of course Bob felt more relaxed. He bought the tickets, and you got the popcorn, and when he put his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled against him, so he kept it there. By the end of the movie, the empty popcorn bucket was on the floor, and you had your palm resting on his thigh. 
"Did you like it?" you asked softly while the end credits scrolled. 
"Yes, I liked it," he promised, accepting another of your kisses.
"It's still early. Want to grab a drink somewhere?"
Bob really only knew one place, because he spent an awful lot of his free time there. "Should we hit up the Hard Deck? And then I can take you home and hopefully get another goodnight kiss?"
You had one eyebrow raised as you considered him. "Even after the third date? You're not going to try to make a move?"
Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he muttered, "Not yet." And then your lips were all over his like he'd answered your questions correctly, even though he felt like his thoughts on the matter were actually probably wrong according to most people.
Eventually the two of you made your way to the bar, but visiting the Hard Deck was a mistake that he didn't see coming. You were tucked perfectly against his side as Bob walked across the parking lot and listened to you tell him how much you liked working for Admiral Bates. Then you ordered two vodka sodas, and Bob had to pluck your credit card from your hand to keep you from paying for them. 
"Hey!" you complained, but he just smiled. 
"I'll give it back later." He was rewarded with another kiss on the cheek, this one very close to his lips. 
"Well, look who's here," Jake drawled obnoxiously over the music from the jukebox and the noise from the crowd. "Bob and his friend."
You rolled your eyes and laughed, but you kept one hand linked with his as the drinks were set down. "Should we say hi to your friends?" you asked, and Bob nodded even though he really wanted to just find a small table on the other side of the room. But Nat looked excited, and the other guys looked annoyed, so Bob thought a short detour might be fun.
"Hey," Bob greeted everyone as you sipped your drink. 
"How was the movie?" Nat asked, elbowing Bradley in the side before he could say anything.
"Pretty good," you replied. "You know, for one of those Academy Award bait films." 
Bob laughed and looked at you. "I liked it a lot, actually." Or maybe he just liked sitting with his arm around you for two hours at a time, but he wasn't going to say that in front of everyone else.
Javy tapped a pool cue on the ground and asked, "Do you like to see a lot of movies?"
You nodded with a bit of an apprehensive look on your face that had Bob just about ready to pull you over to the table that another couple was vacating. "Yeah... I like films," you replied softly. 
And then Jake's jaw dropped open and he slapped the edge of the pool table. "Oh my god!" His green eyes were wide as he looked you up and down from head to toe with a smirk that made Bob want to stand in front of you. "That's why you look so familiar! You're Roxy Luxxe."
"Oh, fuck," Javy said as he dropped the pool cue on Nat's foot, and Bradley choked on his beer. 
But Bob just stood there and watched your posture stiffen and the look of apprehension on your face grow. "Who?" he asked softly, but you wouldn't meet his eyes.
"She's a porn star, Bob!" Jake said a little too loudly as he hooted. "A very memorable one, too. Played up different movie genres. Everyone I Did Last Summer. Sisterhood of the Traveling Sluts. Laid in Manhattan. Some real classics!"
"I retired," you said firmly, holding eye contact with Jake even though your voice sounded strained. "I left the industry five years ago."
"Guys," Nat said with a warning tone as she looked at Bob who was frozen in place, his head swarming with wild thoughts. An adult film star? You? But you worked at Top Gun and played D&D and liked scones. You went on three dates with Bob of all people.
Now Nat was physically moving Javy, Bradley and Jake back toward the game of pool, snapping her fingers at them as they continued to ogle you in your pretty dress. "So..." you whispered, turning toward Bob, looking anywhere but at his face. "That was... yeah..."
He had no idea what to say right now, and the longer he went without saying anything, the worse he felt inside. You used to have a job making adult films? Bob couldn't even handle watching those without blushing and stuttering. You must have had sex with dozens and dozens of different men and probably women too, and Bob suddenly realized he could go home and watch them for himself if he really wanted.
"Right," you said, finally looking at him as your eyes started to fill with tears. "Well... no hard feelings, Bob. I'll see you at work on Monday." Then you set your drink down, covered your mouth with one hand and made a beeline for the door.
Bob looked at the drink in his hand, and then at the one you set down. He left his on the table next to yours and followed you out to the parking lot. He looked around, calling your name and checking to see if you were by his truck, but you didn't respond. You were gone. 
Roxy Luxxe. That name was made up, and he didn't think it suited you as well as your real name. That one was perfect, and he liked it. He liked you. He could drive back to your house, but if you didn't want to talk to him, then what was the point? He'd already embarrassed himself by clamming up. But even worse, he thought he might have embarrassed you. 
"Damn it," he muttered, angry at Jake and all of them for making you feel small, and angry at himself, too. He got in his truck and drove himself home.
----------------------------
Well. You got three perfect dates before it all blew up in your face. Three amazing dates with Bob who was going to look at you like you were no longer worthy of his time now. Sure, you would have told him eventually. After another date or two, you would have brought it up in such a way that perhaps could have been a little bit more flattering or at least slightly tasteful. But of course you should have been expecting this. It wasn't the first time. Getting older only did so much for your face, and it didn't matter how much you changed your hair and makeup: Once Roxy Luxxe, always Roxy Luxxe.
You really thought none of them recognized you. It was almost refreshing that Bob had never heard of your alter ego. He probably never saw a single video of you having sex with Sam Slick or Dickie Divine. He didn't know exactly what your tits looked like, because you'd never taken your shirt off for him in person. He didn't know how you sounded when you faked an orgasm. As you ran down the block and got an Uber, you could hear Bob calling for you.
You weren't ashamed or embarrassed. You were not. This was your life, and you made every decision along the way for yourself. Nobody else. You put yourself through school. You bought the house of your dreams. You had an amazing job at Top Gun now for fuck's sake. But Bob was the first guy you met in a long time who made you think you could have a relationship with someone who wouldn't judge you for your past.
You walked from your Uber into your house and kicked your shoes across the entryway. More tears were filling your eyes, but you didn't want to cry again. Not over this. "But he was sweet," you whispered to your reflection in the hall mirror. His friends were kind of assholes, but he wasn't. Even if he didn't want to be with you now, which was understandable, those three dates were something else. Dungeons & Dragons discussions and coffee and pasta. 
You sighed wistfully at the flowers in your kitchen. Maybe a few more years and you'd look even less like Roxy Luxxe. That might make things easier to navigate. You made yourself a cup of tea and grabbed some crackers and sat out on your back deck where the moonlight reflected off of the ocean. The way Bob had wrapped his arm around you during the movie made it easy to imagine him here with you, keeping you warm. Instead you grabbed a blanket and snuggled in as you thought about how he would have been an excellent boyfriend. 
"You win some, you lose some," you told the night sky. If he was bothered by your past which you had designed so you could have a future, then he wasn't the one for you. You fell asleep outside in your dress, and the rising sun eventually woke you up. When you stretched and stood, the chilly air sent you running inside and toward your shower. 
The memories of last night were hanging out in the periphery of your mind. Going to work tomorrow was going to be awful. If you didn't like Admiral Bates so much, you'd request to work under someone else. But then again, why should you have to go to work feeling bad? Yeah, it was going to sting to see Bob, but it was still your job, and you deserved to be happy. 
You showered and took your time until all of your skin felt fresh and new, and then you threw on some oversized sweats after you moisturized. After breakfast, you could see if one of your friends from D&D was free to hang out. You were finally just about to check your phone to see if Bob had attempted to reach you when you heard a knock at your door. 
Bob's truck was parked in your driveway just behind your car. You could see it through the front window. According to your phone, he tried to call you twice, and he'd send you a handful of texts. But now he was here and knocking again. It was obvious you were home, so you wrenched your front door open and stood before him with your chin held high.
"What do you need?" you asked, already feeling weak at the sight of his pretty blue eyes and his glasses. 
"Hi," he said softly, just staring at you. He looked exhausted, like maybe he hadn't slept. Then he fumbled around in his jeans pocket and pulled out your credit card. "This is yours."
You plucked it from his hand and started to close the door. "Thanks for returning it. I'll see you at work."
Then he said your name. Your real name. "Wait. Please?"
You pressed your lips together. "What do you want, Bob?" 
The soft rise and fall of his solid chest held your attention while he started stuttering. "L-Look. I'm really sorry about last night."
You nodded. "Me too." It wasn't like you wanted to know, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "I take it you went home and looked up my videos?"
His eyes went wide as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I didn't."
You actually believed him, but you felt like making yourself hurt anyway. "Your friends have all seen me naked. Watched me getting fucked."
He seemed surprisingly calm as he half shrugged and kind of nodded. "So what?"
As you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you said, "I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done, okay? And I would have told you about it after another date or two... before we slept together." When he remained silent you added, "I started out in the adult film industry when I was eighteen. I quit when I was twenty five. I just turned thirty last month, and I guess I was silly for thinking enough time had passed. But last night was a prime example of why I haven't even tried to date anyone. Ever, really."
Bob was gaping at you now. "Not ever? But you're... you're so..."
"I know," you said, cutting him off before he could finish. "I'm hot enough to do porn, but nobody wants to date me." 
You started to close the door again, but he scrambled. "N-No, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say you're flawless. A-And I shouldn't have let you leave the bar like that last night."
Your fingers loosened on the door, and soon it was drifting away from you, opening wider for Bob as he stood there with an eager expression. God, you just really liked him. And he seemed like he was being sincere. "What would you have done differently last night?" you whispered. 
He started to reach for you before tucking his fingers in his jeans pocket. "I would have taken your hand in mine as soon as I saw tears in your eyes." You bit your lips as he added, "And I would have told you that I like you so much. And if you wanted to leave, then I would have driven you home right away and walked you to your door."
He liked you so much. If there was a chance that Bob could be the kind of guy who still liked you with your past as Roxy Luxxe but also wasn't just trying to get in your pants and meet her for himself, then you wanted to give him a shot. "What would you have done after you walked me to my door?"
He was breathing deeper like he was nervous, and you wanted to touch him. "I would have asked you for that goodnight kiss that I'd been hoping for all day."
You were rushing for his arms, clearly surprising him in the process, but he held onto you as you gave him just the softest kiss. "I would have let you have it." Bob's hands found their way to the most respectful spot on your back, and you kissed him a little deeper. 
As soon as you broke the kiss, his fingers flexed against your back, and he said, "I want to go on another date with you. A bunch more. But I want you to be sure about me. I don't really care about Roxy Luxxe. I'm sure she was lovely, but I like you." You laughed. You couldn't help it. And he smiled as he asked, "Maybe you can think about it today and let me know at work tomorrow?"
"Okay."
He nodded and let out the breath he was holding. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."
Your back felt cold where his hands used to be as you watched him walk back to his truck. He waved to you as he pulled out of your driveway, and you waved back with a different feeling in your heart than you had twenty minutes ago.
---------------------------
Bob was disappointed to find he would be in the air on Monday. When he arrived on base, he changed into his flight suit instead of his khaki uniform, wondering what that would mean when it came to seeing you. He'd slept poorly, wondering what your answer would be, hoping you'd say yes to another date.
"Hey, Bob," Jake drawled as Bob zipped up his flight suit. "How was your night with Roxy Luxxe?" He had a devilish smirk on his face, and Bob's skin was crawling. All of the other guys were looking at him now, and he knew his face was beet red. 
"I guess she was as good as she looks on film if she rendered you speechless," Jake added with a laugh. 
"Whoa, no," Javy said, shaking his head at Jake before looking at Bob. "Cut it out, man."
Bob counted to five, took a deep breath and then raised his forearm, and at least Jake had the decency to look panicked. Bradley stepped into the fray as Bob used his arm on Jake's chest to push him back against the lockers. Sure, Jake was more muscular, but Bob was no slouch, and he had a couple inches on him. "Don't call her that again. Don't even talk about her. While you're at it, don't look at her either."
Jake raised one eyebrow and nodded slightly, and Bob released him, walking right out of the locker room and making a quick detour to the classroom. But you weren't there. He ran his hands through his hair before he headed outside to find Nat. 
"Hey, there you are," she said gently. "You okay? After the bar and everything?"
"I'm fine," he replied, still looking around. "Have you seen her?"
"Mmhmm," she hummed, pointing behind Bob, and he whirled around in time to see you walk out of the tower with Warlock and Cyclone. You looked as pretty as you always did, and Bob found himself wanting you the same way today as he had last week. All of the daydreams about making breakfast together after holding you in his arms all night were still there. So were the thoughts about you snuggled up, laughing on his couch. But now he could also imagine taking walks on the beach where you lived.
Your gaze met his, and he watched you excuse yourself from the admirals before heading his way. Nat squeezed his bicep, and muttered good luck before making herself scarce, and then Bob was standing there with you a respectable three feet in front of him. 
"Lieutenant Floyd."
He smiled softly. "Good morning."
"So..." you began, looking down at his boots and pressing your lips together. "I'm free on Wednesday night. Or pretty much all day Saturday." Your eyes trailed up his body until you were nervously examining his face. "What did you have in mind for our fourth date?"
He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He'd been so apprehensive, afraid you were going to tell him to beat it, he hadn't bothered to come up with an actual date idea. "Cooking dinner at my place?" he blurted out.
You nodded like that sounded good to you. "Wednesday night then?"
He couldn't remember if he already had plans, but if he did, he'd cancel them immediately. "Yes. Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. Wednesday."
Your soft laughter filled him up as you turned and started to walk away, giving him just one word. "Wednesday."
--------------------------
You showed up to Bob's place with just a bottle of wine. He promised to take care of the rest. An hour later, a completely homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella and herbs was baking in the oven, and you had your arms draped around his neck. His lips tasted like the pinot noir the two of you had started drinking while you made the pizza, and his body felt strong and sure. As of right now, you thought you'd made the right choice by coming here.
"I really like you," he whispered for the third time this evening, and you believed him. You liked yourself. Why shouldn't he? 
"I like you, too, Bob." You reached up and adjusted his glasses before letting your fingers trail back through his hair. As his hands slid slowly down to your hips, it was easy to imagine how he might be in bed. Authentic. Meticulous. Earnest. Just like he was at work. The thought thrilled you to no end, but you were also afraid of the way you'd feel afterwards if you rushed it just to get the first one out of your system. So you let him hold you like you were important. 
The timer buzzed, and Bob laughed as you jumped further into his arms. You buried your face against his neck. "It's not funny." But you were laughing, too, and his lips met your hair. "Okay, it's kind of funny."
His stomach was growling, so you slowly pulled yourself free of his arms so he could put on his oven mitts. "Looks good," he remarked, but your gaze was fixed on him. "What do you think, Honey?" 
Bob's eyes went wide as he set the tray down, like he couldn't believe what he'd said. Your heart was absolutely thundering in your chest. "Looks good," you whispered in agreement. You hadn't looked at it. You were sure it was fine. You'd eat anything anyway. But he called you Honey, and you didn't mind it one bit.
You shared the pizza side by side on his couch along with the rest of the bottle of wine, and Bob listened to you tell him about your friends you meet up with on Fridays. And then he told you about his deployment as he finished the last few drops of wine. 
"I never really talk about this with anyone but Nat. This is nice," he said softly.
"Is it lonely?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as he set down his glass and looked at you. 
You didn't want to rush him, because you could tell what he was going to say was important. And it was. His voice was a little rough as he looked at you and said, "Somehow it's lonelier when I come home. It's worse than being on an aircraft carrier in that I can't really have anything for myself here. There's nothing waiting for me. And a lot of the time, I feel like it would be too much to ask someone to do that. To wait for me. It would be a lot for someone to accept."
When you crawled onto his lap, he didn't stop you. And when you tilted his face up to make him look at you, his cheeks flushed pink, but his hands found your hips again. "I understand exactly how you feel." 
Then you kissed him, and you didn't stop for probably hours or maybe days. It felt that good. When you ended up beneath his warm body, you were so happy he came to your house on Sunday morning with your credit card. "Bob," you whimpered, and that seemed to bring him back from wherever his head was while he kissed his way down your neck and along your chest. His hair was a mess from your fingers, and his lips were a little puffy from the kisses, and you were pretty sure he wouldn't let you down again even if his friends were idiots.
You'd broken the spell, but he didn't seem to mind as he stood and pulled you to your feet. "It's getting late. We have work in the morning. Let me walk you to your car?"
At this rate, you were afraid you'd let him do anything he wanted, because he held your hand the whole way there. And he kissed you just right and told you he'd love to spend part of Saturday with you.
"Come over," you told him, and he promised he would.
----------------------------
It was chilly as Bob watched the sunset over the ocean from your back deck, but his body was warm from the combination of having you and your fleece blanket wrapped around him. You fit perfectly in his arms. Frankly, you seemed to fit pretty perfectly in his life. He wouldn't mind spending all of his Saturdays like this, listening to your gaming recap from the night before while you occasionally kissed the side of his neck. Your fingers were laced with his, and when you asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine you got when you were in Napa Valley, he responded with a different question. 
"Is there any chance you'd want to be my girlfriend?" You shivered in his arms, so he wrapped you up a little tighter. "I can't stop thinking about you being the one waiting for me to get home from a deployment."
You didn't speak right away which made him apprehensive. He'd somehow been the one to push things too fast. This was something he'd never managed to do before. You tightened your grip on his hand as you said, "Bob... people are going to recognize me. It's going to happen sometimes, no matter what I try to do about it, and I-"
He cut you off with a kiss. "I don't care about that, Honey." Then more kisses. The bottle of wine in your kitchen was left forgotten as you carefully slipped one leg over Bob's lap and sat straddling him. You kept the blanket wrapped snug around both of you, your body nestled against his as your foreheads met. "I just really like you."
The sun had disappeared below the horizon. Everything was pink and purple and dusky and dreamy as your cheek nudged his glasses making him smile. "If you think you can handle being my boyfriend, then I'm not going to try to stop you."
Heart pounding, he asked, "So is that a yes?"
"Yes." Your kisses were slow and soft, and Bob kept chasing the smile on your lips, because he couldn't get enough. With his eyes closed, all he could hear was the ocean below and the soft sounds you made. All he could feel was your body everywhere. You smelled familiar. You tasted good. 
As you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand trailed down to his shoulder, along his bicep and then across his chest. When Bob dared to let his hands dip from your waist to your hips and butt, you scooted a little bit closer. He realized when your fingers skimmed his abs that he had an erection. 
Embarrassed, he tried to break the kiss and move his hands, but as soon as he started to move, you pulled away first. In the dying light, he could see your wide eyes and the alluring rise and fall of your chest. Part of your lace bra strap was showing, and your nipples were obviously hard. His cock throbbed in his jeans as you asked, "Do you want to stop?"
He knew you could read the desire on his face. When he started to shake his head, you rubbed yourself against his jeans where he was hard for you. "No," he grunted, head tipping back as he panted. "I don't want to stop."
"Good," you whispered next to his ear, lips barely grazing him. "Neither do I." You took his hands in both of yours and brought them back up to your body, encouraging him to touch every curve.
He gasped your name as he watched you slowly rolling your hips against him, seemingly in no hurry as you bit your lip. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you didn't stop him, and he tossed it aside. Your body looked magical in the twilight, and as he reached for your bra clasp, realization hit him. 
You were used to a certain caliber of partner for these kinds of activities. Standards he probably couldn't meet. "You're hesitating again," you whispered, voice breaking a little bit on the last word. "If you don't think you want to do this with me, I completely understand, Bob."
It was getting difficult to read your expression in the darkness, but when you stopped touching him and pulled your arms to your sides, he started to panic. "It's not that," he promised. "But you've been with... p-professionals. Guys who know what they're... doing." He ran his hands through his own hair. "And I'm not the most experienced. I've only had two partners."
"Oh, Bob," you moaned, and his cock ached at the sound. He wanted you. His whole body was screaming for it, and then he watched as you unhooked your own bra and let it slide down your arms and fall from your fingers. Your body was flawless, back arched, every curve designed to make him crazy. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as you leaned in closer and kissed him. "You'll be so much better."
Your bare skin was everywhere as the blanket slipped from around you. Bob's hands splayed across your back to keep you warm, but the supple feel of you had him thrusting against your core as he gingerly ran his thumb along the side of your breast. "So much better!" you whispered before pulling his bottom lip between yours.
He was still a little nervous, throbbing against you in his pants like a teenager as he cupped your breast in his rough palm. When you trailed your lips down his neck, he said, "I just want to be good enough for you."
Bob was thankful it was dark and you couldn't see him blushing as you nipped his earlobe and giggled. "Bob. You're better, because you're real. And you're turning me on, because we're not faking anything." You moved your right hand down between your bodies and squeezed his cock through his jeans as you sucked on his neck. "There's nothing fake about this."
He was gasping as he reached for your hand. "Honey." He couldn't take too much more teasing, or at this rate, he'd finish before his pants were off. "Can we go inside?"
You were off his lap and reaching for him with both hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to you. "My bedroom sound good?"
"Yes." 
It was honestly difficult to walk. You led him through the sliding glass door and inside where the soft lighting somehow made your topless body look even more stunning. You brought him down the short hallway to your room, walking backwards and looking up at him with a smirk as you unzipped his jeans. He made another unintelligible noise as he watched the way your breasts swayed and bounced with each movement. 
Your bedside lamp provided the only light, and Bob was still looking around, trying to get his bearings, when you pulled his shirt and undershirt off. "Oh," you gasped, running your palms up his flat stomach to his slightly broader chest. "God." He couldn't fathom that you liked what you saw and felt enough to leave you panting his name, but you definitely were. Then your hand was down the front of his unzipped jeans, and he grinned as you tried your best to wrap your hand around his length, your eyes growing wide. "Bob."
And now he wasn't really nervous, because this actually felt really easy and good with you. You were giving him all the queues that you wanted more. You were kissing him as you stumbled to the bed. You were trying your best to get your hand around his cock, but you couldn't. He picked you up and hauled you up to the pillows, and you squealed. All he could see was your beautiful smile as you kissed him over and over, only pulling away to run your nose along his cheek and whisper his name. 
He watched you shimmy out of your yoga pants and underwear and push them aside, and it was no wonder you were able to make a career out of using your body the way you did. But if most of that was just acting, then he wasn't going to let you down now. He watched as your head tipped back, and you pressed yourself up against his hands when he gently squeezed your breasts. Mesmerized by all of this, he let his hands drift down over your ribs and along your sides until he was met by your hips.
Bob worked his hands slowly back up your body and down again, pausing to press his lips to your breasts as you arched for him again. You felt soft, and you were sensitive, running your bare foot up and down his leg as you whimpered. When he squeezed your hips again, he let his gaze fall below your belly button.
His voice was soft and deep as he asked, "Is it okay if I taste you, Honey?"
You instantly spread your legs a little wider, grabbed him by his hair, and said, "Please."
---------------------------
Bob's hands were huge, with thick veins and graceful, calloused fingers. All he was doing was touching you and kissing you, and you were very fucking worked up. This was already a treat, just being with a guy who wasn't grabbing at you and trying to shove his cock in your mouth. But it was more than that. It was the soft tone he used when he said your name and the way he was looking at you. 
Gentle but strong. That was how you'd describe your newly minted boyfriend. You smiled at him as he stroked his fingers down your sides. You hadn't had a boyfriend in years, and Bob was so sweet and handsome, it was absolutely outrageous. 
"Is it okay if I taste you?"
All of that and he wanted to go down on you? "Please." Your voice was needy, and your body was so ready for him. You eased your thighs further apart so he could see all of you, and you let your fingers tangle in his soft hair. You were so excited, and when the wire rim of his glasses brushed the inside of your thigh, you shivered with pleasure. 
Then his lips met your pussy, and you almost went through the fucking ceiling. Those big hands were at your waist, holding you in place on the bed as he licked up along your slit, slowly tasting every inch before he hummed softly. You wanted to watch, but you could barely lift your head off of the pillow as he licked up again and again before kissing your clit. 
When you managed to prop yourself up on one elbow, you got a great view of his big cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans when he lifted his head away from your body. "Does it feel good?" he asked, and you laughed. He pulled away from you further, concern on his face as you started to reach for him.
Your nails scraped along the day's worth of stubble on his cheek as you sat up and kissed him, tasting yourself. You licked at his lips and chin, cleaning up the wetness before you whispered. "It feels better than good."
A few seconds later, you were on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he ate your pussy with fervor. All of your nerve endings were singing his praises. He had you spread with his rough thumbs, and when he looked up at you, even his nose was wet. Your hands were fisted at your sides while you gently rolled your hips against his mouth and whined at the perfect feel of him. "Shit. Fuck," you gasped. He sucked on you with just the right amount of pressure, and your toes were literally starting to curl. "Bob!" 
All you got in response was another hum of pleasure that made you squeal followed by some seriously lewd, wet sounds. His broad shoulders pushed against the backs of your thighs, and you felt him teasing at your opening with the tip of one finger. Tongue circling your clit, he glanced up at you over his crooked glasses. His cheeks were pink, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as you reached for his hair again. "I want you to fuck me."
"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head like he hadn't brought you close with his mouth. He looked a little dazed and pussy drunk, and you thought you could fall in love with that expression on his handsome face. 
"Come here," you whispered, kneeling so you could kiss him. "You taste like me," you added, licking his cheek and chin. "And I love it."
"Honey," he growled, and when you looked down, you could tell he was aching. You pushed him onto his butt and helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans and snug briefs, his thick cock bouncing for you. Then you looked at him there in just his socks and glasses, and your entire body clenched with a need you'd never known before. 
You took his cock in both hands, leaned down and kissed away all of his precum while every muscle in his abs and both legs tensed up. "Holy shit," he gasped. When you tugged on his shoulders, he moved with you, covering your body with his own. His weight and warmth against your bare skin felt essential to your happiness, and when you kissed him, he said, "And you taste like me." 
His cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you ran your tongue along his lips. You couldn't get enough. He shifted his body slightly, and his cock came to rest on your slick clit, making you moan into his mouth. You arched away from him, moving your hips back and forth a few inches at a time, using his body to bring yourself pleasure as you clung to his arms. "God, Bob. You haven't even been inside me yet, and I'm a mess." 
The veins in his neck and forehead were more prominent as he panted, a bead of his sweat rolling down to the tip of his nose. You licked it away as you shifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. He was thick, and even though you were soaking wet now, you had to use one hand to help guide him. You shook your head from side to side, your body taking him slowly. He buried his forehead to your neck, and the bite of his glasses against your collar bone kept you grounded. 
"Honey," he moaned, clutching at your hips as he finally, finally bottomed out. You were completely full, already clenching around him softly and enjoying the rough feel of his trimmed hairs against your clit. He thrusted a few times like he couldn't help himself, and you kissed his forehead. "Am I hurting you?"
His neck was a little slick against your fingertips. You'd been fucked too rough or without enough lubrication to the point of it being painful several times before, but this was the exact opposite. "Bob, you feel incredible." He lifted his head and kissed your lips, rewarding you with another thrust. Your legs tangled with his as you pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him harder. 
His lips found their way to your neck and breasts, and his thrusts started coming quicker, but every smooth movement left you gripping at him, your body begging for more as you whimpered and whined. He murmured your name against your skin, sucking on your nipples until you were seeing stars. And each thrust filled you somehow better than the last. And every movement left you grinding your clit up for more. 
You were going to come. You were going to come so hard. You could feel it. The buildup was delicious. Lips and stubble and glasses on your breasts. Hands on your hips. Bob everywhere.
"I'm not wearing a condom. Honey," he panted. "I'm not wearing a condom."
"It's okay," you whined loudly, suddenly gasping and clawing at his shoulders for leverage. "You can come wherever you want."
He chose inside you. And you came, hard and long and loud, hands on his face while you kissed him. You knew he was going to be so much better. You called it from the start. From when he surprised you by asking you out for coffee. He was immediately better than anything else you anticipated for yourself, and even when he fumbled, he recovered. You ran your lips along his cheek and back to his ear and whispered, "You're so much better than faking it."
He rolled both of you onto your sides, facing each other while he was still deep inside you. "Please don't ever do that. Fake it," he said, voice deep and raspy as he ran his rough palm along your cheek. "I want to know I'm good enough for my girlfriend." 
You smiled and tucked your head under his chin, and he wrapped his arm around you. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and his words were soft and gentle. When he climbed out of bed, he asked where he could find a washcloth, and he came back with it a minute later, ready to help you get cleaned up. He even held your robe out for you and waited while you used the bathroom, but you did that quickly, finding you wanted to be right next to him as much as possible.
Bob looked delicious in his briefs and undershirt, and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you asked, "Do you want to go back out under the blanket? With the bottle of wine? We could look at the stars. Listen to the ocean before bed."
He kissed your forehead. "As long as I'm with you."
-------------------------
Six months later...
After eight weeks away, Bob was excited to get home. He really hoped this was the start of his deployments feeling lonelier than the time between them did. Especially since he was going home to you and the house where he moved all of his stuff as soon as you asked him to live with you. He couldn't wait to hold you all night and hear all about your Dungeons & Dragons campaign and ask how you'd been enjoying work.
As soon as the aircraft carrier started docking in San Diego, he was at one of the lower railings along with the other aviators, and he spotted you immediately. You were bouncing around at the front of the crowd shouting his name and waving like a lunatic, and he had missed you so much. "Hey, Honey!" he shouted, and you just jumped higher. 
"Damn, Floyd. That's your girl?" asked one of the guys he'd flown with.
"Yeah," he replied, never taking his eyes off you. "That's my girl."
Six and a half minutes later, he was practically running down the long ramp with his duffle on one shoulder to the spot where you were waiting for him. 
"Bob!" you screeched as he scooped you up in your tiny dress and kissed you until you were as breathless as he was. "I missed you. I love you so much, and I missed you."
"I want to go home, Honey," he said, kissing you again. "Take me home."
"Gladly," you gushed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his own truck. "I have big plans for your big cock," you announced to everyone around you, and Bob felt his cheeks warm up. "Well, and the rest of you, too. We can make a pizza together and eat out on the deck."
"Anything you want," he promised, tossing his bag in the truck bed and pushing you against the door. "And I love you, too." 
You only let him kiss you for a few seconds, before you were pushing him away. "I know you do. Let's go home." You held his hand on the short ride, and when he pulled in the driveway, you yanked him right out and led him inside the house. 
This felt incredible, knowing you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, running hand in hand to the bedroom. Then you stopped short and turned to face him as he bumped into you with a laugh. "You know how you're kind of your alter ego right now when you're in your uniform? Lieutenant Floyd?"
"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, but your lips curled into a smile as you backed away.
"Well... I thought you might like to meet my alter ego?" you asked softly, easing that little dress up to your hips and along your torso before pulling it over your head. You were standing there in the tiniest black thong and bra set known to mankind. "Do you want to meet Roxy Luxxe?"
Bob just nodded and reached down to palm himself through his khaki pants as he gaped at you and grunted, "Uh huh." If Roxy was just a playful extension of his girlfriend, then yes, he wanted to meet her. 
You bit your lip and coaxed him toward the bed, running your hands down your body to your hips where you played with your underwear. "Good. Because she wants to meet you, too. And she wants you to know she's only going to be available exclusively for Bob Floyd's enjoyment."
---------------------------
Thanks for reading this long one-shot! I wanted Bob to get to fuck a former pornstar, because nobody deserves such a treat the way Bob does! But then I got attached to them and had to make it special. Bob and the artist formerly known as Roxy Luxxe are adorable together. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for your help!
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