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uravichii · 1 year

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pov: you're drop-dead gorgeous (and they don't know how to deal with it)

character/s: bakugo katsuki, shinsou hitoshi, kaminari denki, todoroki shouto

genre: fluff, crack (?), them hyping u up like there's no tomorrow, uhh reader wears makeup 🤕

notes: this is for all u pretty mfs aka all of u whether u believe it or not YOU ARE PRETTY AMD HOT AND AMAZING 😡‼️ also disclaimer: the boys love u not just for your face. they think you're so cool for being beautiful inside n out and this is just them appreciating the out 🧎‍♀️

bakugo katsuki thinks you're so pretty that his only response to it is to be angry. he'd watch intently the way you'd smooth your clothes down and cutely fiddle with your hair in the mirror as if there's even anything to fix. he'll cup your pretty face in his hands and squeeze your cheeks together (cuteness aggression probably), "tell me why you're so fucking pretty all the time? what are you so pretty for, huh?!"

bakugo katsuki would always watch you do your makeup and hair and then slip into the prettiest clothes only you can pull off and he's just mesmerized by the whole thing.

"katsuki, please stop drooling and get dressed. we're gonna be late."

his only response is: "fuck off."

because he can never deny nor hide the fact that he constantly admires you every chance he gets. he storms his way to you and snatches a shimmery eyeshadow from your makeup bag. "tch, you don't even need any of this shit."

"you don't like it, katsuki?" you stare up at him doe-eyed, easily making his heart skip a beat.

"h-hah?! i didn't say that!" he shoves it to your hand, "now do this glittery shit next!"

and you just ditch whatever plans you'd made and spend the rest of the night trying on different makeup looks. he'll insist that you sit on his lap while you doll yourself up just because, and you gladly do so but then you both end up wearing a full face of glam makeup 🧍‍♀️ he doesn't know how he just let it happen but he's like, "whatever makes you fucking happy, y/n."

he then proceeds to tell you that, "every one of those ugly extras should grovel at your feet, worship the ground you walk on, and then beg for your forgiveness."

"forgive them for what?"

he stares blankly at you. "for breathing the same air as you."

bakugo katsuki's not active on social media at all but on his instagram, his first and only post is a photo dump of just youー the selfies you took on his phone, your date outfits, candid photos (by courtesy of bakugo katsuki) of you smiling at a stray cat, the power nap you took on his shoulder, and his favorite one by far: a photo of you wearing his black tank top that completely swallows you up, holding up two little peace signs on your cheeks.

and of course, he captions it, "u and ur ugly ass wish u were y/n."

shinsou hitoshi is convinced he's dating a model. he doesn't know how it happened, but he is a little proud of whatever the hell was in him that managed to rizz you up.

he thinks you look amazing in absolutely anything. so when you go clothes shopping together, he casually picks up all types of clothes from the racks until there's a whole pile of them in his arms.

when you shoot him a questioning look about it, he only says, "think you'll look amazing in these, babe."

he also picks up some accessories and just wears them on youー hats, sunglasses, hair pins, and you just let him because each time you let him accessorize you, he gives those little comments like, "amazing." "cute" "this one's tacky; i put it on you as a joke but you pull it off for some reason." "yes. slayed." he made you wear cat ears one time and he just melts right there, immediately taking a photo of you for his new lockscreen.

it bothers shinsou hitoshi a lot when people stare at you even when they can clearly see his hand on the small of your back. he'll slide closer to you and kiss the top of your head all the while he gives them a death stare he wishes he could do more.

he squeezes your waist a little to call your attention.

"hm? what's up, hitoshi?"

he looks at you blankly, taking in your features in awe as if for the first time again. then he stuffs your face into his chest, your legs staggering as you grab a hold of his forearms.

"hey, what are you doing?" you giggle in his chest. he's relieved you can't see his flushed cheeks. "hitoshiii"

"you're too good for this world, y/n. i need to start gatekeeping you."

what blows shinsou hitoshi's mind the most is how you're probably unaware of your effect on him, no matter how many times he's called you all synonyms of the word, 'beautiful'

he's sat on the couch, a tiny smile of adoration tugging on his lips when he sees you running up to him. your eyes brim with excitement as you call his name, truly the prettiest ones he's ever seen.

"something happened?ー" he pauses when you lean your face so close to his. he sinks back into the couch as the tips of ears start to turn red.

it takes a moment until he realizes that you're showing off the purple eyeshadow you had done on yourself, batting your eyelashes at him as you wait for his response bc right now he's just staring at you like 😦💘‼️‼️‼️

"it's the one you picked out from the mall yesterday. is it pretty?"

"y/n." his hands slowly find their way to your waist, "i don't believe you're real sometimes. you are possibly the most beautiful person i've ever seen."

"really?"

"god," he pulls you by the waist until you're sat on his lap, your legs straddling him. "you have no idea."

remember how bakugo said all those extras should be groveling at your feet and worshipping you? yeah, it's kaminari denki. he worships you.

he thinks you're beautiful and he's LOUD about it.

he's constantly bragging about you to his friends and showing off your photos (if you're comfy w/ that), "oh this? oh yeah, this is is y/n, the coolest, funniest, drop dead gorgeous, most ethereal person on earth and they're dating ME."

and bakugo would just grab his phone and knock it against his head with a thud 🤕, "WE FUCKING GET IT. NOW, SHUT UP, DUMBASS."

he'll rub his head while cackling, "whatever, i'm dating Y/N. who cares about anything if you're dating y/n?"

kaminari denki doesn't love you just for your beauty though. you're not just some eye candy to him. if someone ever called you one though, you bet he's zapping their ass and with the whole bakusquad by his side because somehow they feel obligated to protect you now too. 🧍‍♀️ (denki's effect)

and just as much as he compliments your beauty everyday, he never forgets to let you know how beautiful your heart is too. in fact, he calls you 'angel' because how could someone be this beautiful and be so kind and caring to him at the same time?

"sometimes.." he looks up pensively from his lap where you lay your head, "i feel like i've been blessed by the heavens when i got to date you.

"denkiー"

"don't even think i'm exaggerating, y/n!" he pokes your cheek when you turn your head to look at him, "you're amazing. i don't know what i did for you to give me a chance."

there are times though when a part of kaminari denki feels a little insecure because he thinks he looks quite stupid next to you, and it doesn't help either that the bakusquad never lets him hear the end of it 😔

"denki, you don't look stupid because you're next to me. you do that on your own."

"aww, thank yー hol' up." 🤨

he's pouting but you immediately wipe that off by apologizing and peppering his face with kisses, ending it with a loud smooch on his lips with a "mmmwah!"

kaminari denki now can't remember what you're even apologizing for in the first place.

you and todoroki shouto are so beautiful, the visuals are blinding 😩 you'd walk to your classroom together, him opening the door for you and you smiling at him, lovingly squeezing his arm as a silent 'thank you,' and people just stare with their mouths agape, not knowing who exactly to be jealous of.

shouto definitely stares the most though until it concerns midoriya, "t-todoroki-kun, you haven't moved in three minutes. are you okay?" because he might as well have drawn hearts on his eyes and stab an arrow to his heart with the way he looks at you.

todoroki shouto always kisses your eyes, nose, cheeks, hair, and your lips, of course, just to let you know how beautiful he thinks they are.

he thinks whatever you do or wear is so pretty, hence, the many, many photos of you on his phone. his lockscreen changes every 2 days because everyday he just gets a prettier shot of you, and he always shows them to you and to his friends and siblings ☹️ because everyone, including you, should appreciate what a beauty you are!

"this looks great! you'd make a great photographer, shouto" you lean in to kiss his cheek, immediately sending a flush across his face.

"well..." he looks to the ground, the feeling of your lips still lingering on his right cheek. "that's all you... you're beautiful. i don't know how it has anything to do with me, but thank you."

and then he leans closer, tilting his head to the side to silently ask for another kiss. you laugh softly at this, and when you cup his cheeks in your hands and start planting kisses all over his face the way he does to you, shouto confirms it in his mindー y/n is an angel.

todoroki shouto would get a little overboard with the photos though because he'll spam that button and keep every single one. when you ask why keep the blurry ones, he explains, "that's still a photo of you. why would i delete it?"

he also has a photo of his point of view from when he had his head on your lap. he said he wanted to capture "the happiest moment of his life." you convince yourself it's sweet but it's literally just a photo of your chin in a weird angle.

"shouto, that's just my chin."

he looks at you dead in the eye. "y/n, you have a lovely chin."

you call him a weirdo, which surprises him a little, but then you drape your arms around his neck and pepper kisses all over his face again because who else in the world would say that to you?

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solarmorrigan · 2 months

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Well, Hello, Sailor

written for @steddiemicrofic | prompt: ‘pin’ | wc: 388 | rated: T | cw: slightly racy photos?

“Oh my god,” Eddie gasps.

“Oh my god,” Steve echoes, groaning.

Eddie hadn’t meant to drop the box, but it was heavy; it had been a rescue from the back of Steve’s closet as they moved his stuff out of his old apartment (preparing to move into their new one, together), and it had been full of forgotten papers and old magazines and – photos.

The stash had spilled out in front of Eddie like it had been waiting for him, full-color and glossy and glorious.

There’s Steve posed front and center, on his knees and looking back over his shoulder at the camera. He’s wearing a little pair of navy blue shorts and a little red ascot and precious little else. The shorts are indecently high-cut, hugging his ass like they were made for it, but it’s the sailor hat settled jauntily on top of his head that really makes it for Eddie. Steve’s eyes are wide and sweet, as if he’s been caught by surprise, with his lips parted in that inviting way that haunts Eddie’s dreams, even though he can technically see it any time he likes now.

He’s the very picture of a perfect little pin-up boy.

“Oh my god,” Eddie says again, unable to get much else out.

“It was– uh, for a magazine,” Steve stutters out. “I forgot I even had copies of that shoot.”

“Uh huh.” Eddie nods, still staring, mesmerized, at the pictures in his hands.

“It was during college, after my dad cut me off. I needed another job, and this paid, like, surprisingly well, and–”

“It damn well better have,” Eddie says, finally smirking up at Steve. “I bet they made bank off of you, baby.”

Steve pauses, blinking. “You’re not– upset?”

“Why would I be upset?” Eddie asks; honestly, he’ll only be upset if Steve tries to pry the photos away from him before he’s had a chance to thoroughly inspect them.

“Just– some people have gotten… jealous, I guess?” Steve shrugs, glancing away.

“Other people can look if they want.” Eddie leans over to press a reassuring kiss to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I know I’m the only one who gets you live and in person.”

Slowly, Steve smiles. “Well. If you like the sailor shoot, I bet you’ll love some of the others.”

“Others?”

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie microfic #stranger things #no I don't know what this is #but if I sit on it any longer I'm gonna edit it to ruins so here take it don't look at me thank you #(this was actually fun to write though)#solar wrote #eddiesteve

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bunnylove1 · 3 months

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.*•Lucifer HC!!•*.

.*•lucifer HC!•*.

~.•Lucifer x reader

~.•warnings!: sickness, sex/just smut, fluff!, nsfw and sfw HCS Are mixed together

~.•Enjoy! Darlings

•he likes when you talk, just because he loves your voice “no baby keep talking, your okay don’t stop”

•Same with loving your voice, he will make you not hide your face during sex or muffle you voice because he loves your whimpers and moans makes him cum just hearing them

•double dates with Charlie and vaggie he loves getting time in with his daughter but also loves seeing you interact with Charlie and loves hearing vaggie call him father in law

•hates seeing you cry makes him overthink “shh it’s okay Angel, what’s wrong speak to me”

•he loves you hips and eyes he finds them the most beautiful thing ever and that they fit you so well

•loves when you call him ‘luci’ and ‘darling’

•he’ll hide away from whoever he’s talking to if you call him ‘apple muncher’ in public

•Luci loves when you put any type of his clothing on, but mostly prefers you to wear his hat

•he’s scared of losing you, so he always keeps you close and if not he’ll frequently check up on you

•if your taller than him and he wants a kiss, he’ll pull you down and give you a smooch

•I love the idea of him being a jealous guy, so he always has a hand around your waist or his hand holding yours

•he most definitely loves tall women, have you seen his ex wife

•hates when Alastor is anywhere near you, will literally growl at the dude

•I can see him treating you like a little kid some times saying “no that’s to sharp put it down princess” or “don’t walk so fast hold my hand”

•he’s a switch but leans more towards dom

•man loves eating pussy, not for your own pleasure (yes and no) but for his he’s a pussy muncher

•he’s definitely a night owl and a morning person, he’ll be up all night working on something but also be up at the ass crack of dawn making your breakfast in bed

•DOESN’T let you lift a FINGER he’ll do everything, making sure his princess isn’t stressing out about anything

•he knows how to comfort you way different from alastors comfort, he’ll put your head in his chest and whisper sweet nothings to you as he rubs your back and plays with your hair “it’s okay my baby I’m here”, “don’t make yourself sick okay princess

•when your sick he’ll make sure your never up from bed, he’ll bring you anything soup a drink another pillow or more blankets “need anything darling”…”no don’t get up lay back down princess let me do it my sick baby”

•his love language is definitely physical touch and words of affirmation

•makes you a duck key chain that looks like him, he has one that looks like you

•he definitely has a daddy kink can’t see him not having one

•doesn’t like hurting you during sex, he likes slapping and punishments but not hard core ones

•his wings are sensitive so touching them leads to big consequences

•BIGGEST ROMANTIC he’ll buy you flowers every time he sees the ones he already gave you dying, new stuffed animals that he bought while out, long dinner dates that lead to just talking all night, dancing when you guys can’t sleep, humming you sweet tunes just the biggest sweetheart

•has your name on his phone as “my princess”

•calls you “my princess” “baby” “little angel” “mommas” “hot shot” “little lady”

•he loves seeing you an Charlie getting along makes him feel proud

•hates when your too far from him

“darlings get over her please” or “to far baby” even “little lady right here”

•loves the color white and gold on you

•thinks your a goddess and will drop to his knees if you commanded

•he prefers to give you pleasure more than you give him but if you offer he’ll take it

•sex is a solid 99/100, loves pleasing you but that one point is for doing his work which only leads to having more sex

•morning sex’s and night sex’s (when your asleep shit) loves the feeling of you being groggy in both morning and night gives him so much control

•loves when you fall asleep on him, he’ll take photos of it

•he loves you sitting on his lap while he does work or is talking to other of the question it he’ll say—— “what is your eye problem, haven’t seen a couple before”

.*• guys this took me a whole ass day to do please enjoy

(Tagged my favourite luci lover)

@mylunadies

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tired-biscuit · 2 years

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Warnings: 18+ mdni. established relationship. fem!reader. aged up kat. anal.

a/n: i finally gave in and wrote this filth, ok. it's been on my mind for a while, please forgive me lol.

---

THE moan Katsuki lets out is guttural.

He’s sweating like crazy on top of the navy blue sheets as he pants, the lust-driven look in his eyes purely male. Releasing a small sigh, the freshly-turned twenty-six-year-old smirks at the feverish warmth to surround him by the time his heavy cock sinks fully inside you.

Being balls deep inside your tight ass is pure bliss. All lubed up and twitching in delight to really relish the lewd birthday gift you give him every 365 days, and which he's so very impatient to receive, Katsuki doesn't mind at all that he's one year closer to thirty as he chuckles and shoves himself even deeper carefully.

The short "Hah... Fuck yeah, baby." is purely derisive by the time his entire length experiences the pleasant tightness of the tiny hole you don't allow him to fuck all that often. You're all stretched out as you accept him. He's so lucky.

You squeak when he pushes further inside you slowly; sweat-coated body trembling in the firm reverse cowgirl position he holds you in. Your legs are squeezed together and bent at the knees. He's pushing them further against your chest with the help of his rough hands resting on the back of your thighs, just so that he can actually impale you on his fucking cock. You feel like you're going to explode from how badly he wants in, in, in.

He's relentless.

"Ki," you whisper, brow furrowing at the pang of hot ache to sear through you when he angles himself better and pushes even further. "Easy, baby. I-I know you're excited, but... We gotta take it sl-... Oh, my fucking god, s-slow...! Go slow, baby. Please."

"Mhmmm, goin' slow and easy, pretty... Anythin' y'want," he replies dazedly. His words have nearly become an incoherent slur and twist of tongue from how good you're making him feel, but all the bitter liquor he's drank at the small get-together you've surprised him with - and which he pretended he hated - might be one to blame as well.

After all, the vanilla cake you got him for his 26th birthday was sickeningly cute on purpose; entirely covered in rich buttercream icing and drizzled with colourful sprinkles, which he swears gave him a headache whenever he looked at them for too long.

You've even went as far as to make him blow out the candles that had been propped up in the middle of the giant scribble of icing, spelling out a dramatic: ‘Happy birthday, Katsuki!’ in bright red colouring.

All of it is clearly a symbol of your loving, albeit taunting relationship - he knows it is. You buy the stupid cake for him just to be a menace every year, but he still ate every last bite of the giant piece you handed him at his super secret surprise party - the one that isn't even that much of a surprise, after the third annual time it's happened - even though the bridge of his nose wrinkled in annoyance during the entirety of him chewing the silly thing.

The presents he received from his friends were okay. The texts that kept making his cell phone beep were annoying. The long phone call he had to endure from his mother and father so that they could congratulate their son on turning one year older in his outrageously busy life was outright pesky. Truth be told, Katsuki felt low-key thankful by the time his birthday at long last came to an end and he was able to drop his tired body into bed.

But he feels good now - getting to do anal with you. So good, in fact, that he'd even consider enduring all of the birthday antics you tend to pull on him as some twisted form of a sick joke. Actually, he'd let you watch him suffer in his little party hat, and would let you take photos of him blowing out the shitty candles, if it meant that he would be spoiled rotten like this at least once every few days, every week, every month, every year; not just on April goddamn 20th.

He's just that greedy. That horny for that tight peach of yours.

"Ah, fuck... Ki!" You whine now; this desperate, prolonged sort of sob that yanks him right out of his thoughts as you say, "You feel s'big inside me... So, so big."

"It's 'cause you feel so damn good, babe," he compliments in reply, the tone of his voice so utterly strained. "You've got me s'hard that it makes my fuckin' dick hurt." It's true. He's ready to bust a nut so embarrassingly quick from how good it feels. It's a lucky thing that he's as stubborn as he is to resist it.

There's a wildfire in your eyes that he knows is there, despite that he can't see it when you grit out, "Well, your dick hurts me!" It hurts me so good.

"Yeah?" he says, unable to wipe the crooked, lazy grin from his face now. His hands grab a better hold of your thighs, calloused fingers digging deep into the plush flesh so that he can keep you still when you start to squirm. "Well, it ain't my fault you've got such a fuckable ass, huh? I wish I could see how pretty you look like this... With my dick up that tight hole of yours."

You're about to bite back a snarky remark, though nothing comes out except for a slutty moan the moment his thick fingers find your clit. A waterfall of filthy curses he rarely hears you voice leaves your pouty lips and sticks to ceiling of your shared bedroom at the divine friction he gives you now. It seems that he isn't the only one that gets to be spoiled this year.

He starts to rub lazy circles on the cute, sensitive button - all languid and precise, until the hole that's empty of him starts to flutter in response, and you begin to beg him to start pounding into you so that you can be filled up to the brim with his warm seed as soon as possible. The anticipation makes your legs literally shake. You're barely able to keep it together - and this fast, too.

Katsuki listens to your high-pitched pleas that grow both in fervour and necessity as more and more time passes. He's mindful as his hips begin to rut into you, keenly listening to the lewd squelching noises the lube produces with that heavy pat, pat, pat, and your heavy breathing when he gets an even better angle and strikes home. The clench you give him in response is so potent that he's about ready to lose his fucking mind.

The entire room smells like caramel from how much he's sweating. Salt is literally dribbling down both of his temples, but he still keeps going. He just can't stop. Not when you're about to cum from having his big, fat cock inside your ass.

"Gonna-... Gonna cum soon! Fuck, fuck, fuck - I-I'm so close, Kat."

"Yeah? I gotcha, baby... I gotcha. Imma take care of you. Gonna make you cum, promise."

Your curves jiggle against his abdomen as you take his dick like a fucking champ and keep on bouncing; nearly squealing in a pitch so high it makes his ears hurt when he pinches your puffy clit and turns you so overstimulated that you're nearly ready to squirt and gush all over him. As you squeeze your eyes shut and tip over the edge only minutes later, plunging into an orgasm of a different kind, that you only dare to experience once a year as a treat for your brute of a boyfriend.

He follows not a moment after you've floated up into the heavens and turned brain-dead. Everything feels fuzzy inside your mind as he fills you up with his cum and lets out another broken moan and a grunt of an especially nasty curse, but the warm ropes of white are pleasant as they coat your walls. You can tell he's been barely withholding his own climax; the entirety of his body feels so stiff and hot underneath you. Even his jaw is clenched so tightly that it clicks when he snaps it shut. It's just a different kind of experience, after all. Everything is more intense, hence why his eyes are rolling back and his head is sent tipping into the mattress.

"Maybe-... Fuck, oh my..." You suck in a sharp breath to recollect your buzzing thoughts as the words fade away into silence and you stick to his heaving chest until you're practically glued together. He's cummed so much that his cum leaks out of you even if he's still inside you, dick slowly going soft and tender. The milky release is drooling right down to his balls by the time you finally manage to finish your sentence, "Maybe we should take a picture next year, mm? Since you wanna see me so bad."

"I'd like that," he whispers quietly, pulling you closer and kissing your naked shoulder gently. "I'd like that a whole fuckin' lot, baby."

It's true. Katsuki may not like being the birthday boy and the attention it brings, but it’s different when he gets to spend it with you. The presents you give him on his birthday are always the best, after all.

To say that he can barely wait for the one he'll get for his 27th would be an understatement.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugo x reader #bakugo smut #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #mha smut

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thoughtsforsoob · 2 months

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places in Tokyo that they take you to :)

a/n: idk if y’all can tell but i visited Tokyo, Japan not so long ago and absolutely fell in love with it. it was such a beautiful experience and I hope that if you ever do go, you have fun too. please don’t skip out on it and make time to visit it if you can! this may be a little specific but i know this is self-indulgent. please let me know what you think of it !!!

yeonjun

team planets! i see him liking how artsy and pretty it is. he loves seeing you enjoy the different exhibits and takes so many pictures of you there. he whines when he has to take off his shoes for the water experience part (which is so beautiful btw). he whines because he knows you’re gonna tell him to “put his damn dogs away”. i think his favorite part of the flower room because he loves how you look among all the flowers. Says some corny ass shit like “yeah, they’re pretty but not prettier than you.”

soobin

Tokyo Disneyland! He is a total nerd so he would love this place. He makes you get up super duper early and rewards you with coffee (tullys tho omggg). You guys arrived early enough and are there for rope drop. He even dresses up all nice for the day. He buys the both of you matching character hats. He totally insists on porky and slinky hats (he begs to be porky so you let him). He loves getting on all the ride but his favorite was beauty and the beast. he loves the attention to detail. he even gives you a little kiss while the ending scene is happing and def makes you blush. Don’t even get him started on the parades. He watches every single one of them. Especially the last light show. He holds you close to his side and wraps his jacket around you. The whole moment just feels so sweet and romantic and he lives for it.

beomgyu

harajuku enjoyer for sure. he loves all of the clothing shops, shoe stores and everything else. He for sure goes into all of the stores and tries on a million things and has you give your opinion. Don’t worry, after all of that shopping, he’ll make sure to get you a treat! He’ll fill you both up on Okinawa ice cream, cheesy 10 yen coins and plenty of coffee!! I feel like he’d also take you to music stores. You both comb through the many floors of Tower Records and find your favorite albums. Also..what’s harajuku without a photo booth session :)) he makes you take one of those silly ones that make you look like a doll. Silly gyu

taehyun

sensō-ji! I feel like he really appreciative of older places and places that make for pretty pictures. he def makes you both put on kimonos for the whole experience (don’t be like me and def watch your step when walking in these narrow shops…aka: don’t skip down the stairs 😜) he loves the whole touristy vibe and he hopes you do to. He obviously also stops at all the food stalls and buys you and him treats to try. HE also takes a pretty picture with you in front of the temple…one where he even kisses your cheek. He is in that good of a mood omg. You two also do fortunes at the temple and you both get bad luck :(((( sorry I don’t make the rules

huening kai

snoopy museum for sure. Yeah ik this place is technically in yokohama but like…idc :) anyways, huening gives snoopy lover vibes so he would def love to bring you here. he loves looking at all of memorabilia with you and if you’re a snoopy enthusiast also, he asks you questions and makes comments. he def begs you to take a pic with him by the giant snoopy in the middle of the room. he keeps it in his wallet forever. he also loves the stuffed snoopies so you get matching ones!

#txt imagines #txt fluff #txt headcanons #txt x reader #txt reactions #txt texts #soobin x reader #soobin fluff #yeonjun x reader #yeonjun fluff #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x reader #taehyun x reader #taehyun fluff #huening kai fluff #huening kai x reader

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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year

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the Relationship Experience - seven

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

six.

It was so early – well, not early by his standards, but Rooster knew it would be way too early to expect you to be awake. He squinted over his shoulder as the sun was starting to rise on the horizon, a scorcher on the cards if the burn of its climb held any credence.

He wasn’t due back for another few days, but please the right people, know the right ass to kiss to potentially get him on a plane to bring him home sooner? He'd try it if it could get him back to you quicker. It probably wouldn’t happen again, so he’d take the reprieve this time.

Hitching the flowers in the crease of his elbow from that florist you loved to drag him to when he wasn’t due on base with the sparrows, he knew walking in on the morning of Valentine’s Day was going to be tough. But he also knew most people didn’t say no to a man in uniform just wanting to buy a beautiful bunch of roses for the girl - no, woman. The woman he hadn’t seen in three months and to surprise her that morning.

Three hellishly long months.

He’d missed Christmas and New Year and he’d expected to miss today, too. But sometimes good things happen to reasonably good people, he figured. Or painfully brownnose to your superiors until you get your way. Look, he wasn’t proud of it, but hey.

He was home.

He quietly unlocked the front door and let himself in, dropping his duffle by his feet, and wandering into the familiar surroundings of your apartment. The linger of your perfume, the photo wall. He went over and said hi to his mom, tenderly tracing the frame before moving to the kitchenette for a hard-earned glass of water. He sculled it before going for seconds and tossing his gaze over his shoulder for your bedroom, quietly placing the glass in the sink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and unbuttoned the collar of his shirt and subsequent buttons of his NWU, energised.

Placing his hat on the bench with his phone silenced, keys and sunglasses within it, the pull to your bedroom was purely magnetic.

Pushing into the bedroom soundlessly, Rooster’s gaze softened, seeing your sleepy form on your side of the California King, his pillow snuggling tight against your cheek and your sinful body draped in a lone white sheet. The sexiest of sights and it took everything in his power not to rush you. Choosing to take his time, he sat at the desk seat of your bay window and unlaced his boots, placing his socks in them and tidily putting them out of the way, before removing his shirt altogether, laying it carefully over the back of the chair. He loosened his slacks, but resistance was futile. He was half-hard and wholeheartedly unabashed about it.

He had to wake you.

Moving across the room, he sat on your side of the bed and smiled to himself, allowing his fingertips to graze your supple, warm skin and he was awestruck. “My sweet girl, I’m home,” he dared whisper, his tender rasp rougher in his exhaustion.

But if he knew and boy, did he know how well you slept… it was going to take more than some sweet coos to wake you. He lowered himself to sweep the lowly sheet away from you, letting it slink down your back and the curve of your hip, prompting him to leave a wet kiss against it. He grasped a handful of your ass, massaging it in his palm and smiled when he heard you whimper and roll closer to his side, looking for his warmth even in his apparent absence.

He chuckled quietly to himself, pleased you still searched for him.

He tried whispering your name, his mantra and reached for your hand, his lips grazing your knuckles and your fingers flexing before he placed it back on the bed and changed tack.

Hearing your gentle whimper and contorting your body into a light wriggle, Rooster bit back a smile as his tongue traced from the base of your spine towards the back of your ribs. He’d forgotten how smooth your skin was as he nuzzled some pressure into his kiss, a trail of saliva leeching between your shoulder blades.

Your murmur made him weak, but it was surely this if there was ever a right way to come home. Waking you up under his touch, his eager kiss. He was being so patient, in a way that only the last decade could teach him. But fuck, regiment be damned, all he wanted to do was wake you with his lips dipping urgently into your core, tasting you on his tongue and watching his lover, you, lose all control.

Already half undressed to his loosened slacks to ease pressure on his raging cock, he contemplated doing just that, tossing you onto your back and trapping you with your glorious thighs constricted around his ears while he devoured you, pinning you down with his strength as you pleaded for him, pleaded for his hard cock, pleaded to cum.

Three months of utter frustration pulsated in his ears, all the blood in his body located below the belt so much so that he felt like two different people:

The first who wished to wake you affectionately, kiss, caress, and fall into a slow morning of making love, showing you how much he’d missed you and how in love he was as the sun rose before falling asleep together and starting again but the second was powerful and almost feral. The second wanted to do all the things he thought about frenziedly when he found a moment of privacy, dreaming of slamming into your fervent pussy while you called for more and riding him to the rough rhythm he commanded; the head he craved so sloppy that he knew he would blow hard and fast, taking the brunt of his frustration on your body part of his choosing.

You were intoxicating, the remains of yesterday’s perfume on your skin. The tender curve of your ass that his large palm swept across elicited another subtle squirm from you. He bit back a smile; you would be writhing under him soon.

He prided himself on introducing you to the benefits of sleeping nude, something you didn’t do before him. While Rooster generally slept naked when he was at home, it was obviously not something he’d toil with while away, for obvious reasons, but he was a creature of habit and when the sleepovers started, it didn’t take long to convince you, his sweet girl, that sleep just came easier when you shared skin. Point, Bradshaw.

He would never tire of rolling over, his muscular arms searching for you, dragging you back to him and feeling your perfect ass roll with purpose against his cock, showing him you needed him during the early hours before his alarm. He’d grip your hips as he gently ground himself into you, growing harder in next to no time, and fucking you so deep while loving on you slow. Your breathy moans coaxing gentle rumbles from his chest, his voice telling you how good you were together and his mind telling him this was the real thing, and he couldn’t imagine being with someone else like this anymore.

You were his living, breathing fantasy.

“Sweet girl, wake up for me…” he whispered with a low chuckle, pushing up the bed and laying beside you to rest his head on the pillow. He brushed your messy hair from your face. Your beautiful face. He kissed the apple of your cheek, calling your name again a little louder now, his voice raw with exhaustion and desire. “I’m home.”

Watching your body twist into the mattress, he licked his lips anticipating your reaction. You’d both survived the first deployment since your lives had changed, and he needed to touch and feel you.

You rose unhurriedly, every movement fluid as you mumbled a confused “Bradley?” and dragged your head off his pillow. Blinking a few times, he tried not to laugh as you rubbed the sleep from your pretty albeit disbelieving eyes.

“Hi, baby. I’m home,” he said again, tenderly tactile as his fingertips padded your bicep to your wrist and you smiled, groggily. “I’m so happy to see you,” he said as it seemed to dawn on you that he was right before you.

“Oh, Bradley,” you scampered urgently into his arms, skin to skin just as God had intended. He missed your warmth against his and pressed a series of kisses into your jaw and clavicle as he held you close, reassuring you he was home, he was safe. “I thought I was dreaming,” you looked at him wide awake now, incredulous and still searching for signs of injury or harm, your tears reflecting in your eyes.

You didn’t know what to say, about a million questions bubbling on your lips, but you could only scramble towards his mouth and kiss him as if your life depended on it. Kiss him for getting home safely, kiss him for the days you didn’t get to kiss him at all, kiss him because you needed to remember how he tasted. And kiss him because you missed how fucking thoroughly he could kiss you. Rolling his body above yours, you laced your calves around him, hoping that if you didn’t let him go, he couldn’t disappear again.

“I’m home, sweet girl. Fuck, I missed you so goddamn much,” he found your wrists and cupped them tightly above your head, as you chased his kiss without the slightest hint of shame, and he devotedly delivered, helping relax your body back down on the mattress, his body weighing you down and fuck, how you’d missed being trapped under his remarkable, powerful body.

Without hesitation, you opened your thighs to him and although he was still dressed, he wholly let his weight release on you. He adjusted slightly to get where he needed, his hips rolled against you, the friction of his uniform eliciting a gasp from you his mind hadn’t been able to replicate when he thought about you on those cold lonely nights in the middle of the ocean.

“Fuck, I missed that sound,” he confessed, his lips leaving yours and cascading low. His breath was hot against your skin and he nuzzled your neck, burying his face into your warmth. You’d missed the tickle of his moustache as he ghosted kisses across your pulse.

“Jesus Christ,” you tenderly let your fingers lace into his soft curls and scratch at the nape of his neck. He needed a trim, and he had a rarely seen five o’clock shadow but you were lying to say you would love to see your man bearded up and a bit of length to his curls. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting in early, Bradley?”

“Where would the surprise be in that?” he asked lovingly, drizzling kisses between your breasts before resting his cheek on his favourite place to lay.

He made a good point. This wouldn’t be happening if you met him as expected. Friends, families, sailors, chaos. Not slow and delicate like this. He nudged you with his pelvis, particularly fond of that grunt you responded with. “Tell me,” he laughed quietly. “What were you dreaming about? Whatever it was had you in a bit of a state,” his big hands drifted across your forearms, biceps, and the smoothness of your breast and you leaned into it, urging him for more.

“That you were kissing me, my back, my shoulders,” you managed, bashfully covering your face with your palms. “Was getting good too…” you admitted, a small groan escaping your mouth as he swirled his tongue around a pleading nipple.

“Oh, it was one of those kinds of dreams. My dirty, dirty girl. So sexy,” he grunted but thrilled your dreams were being fulfilled by him too. “But you weren’t dreaming,” he confided in his sexy rasp. “I wanted to give you a pleasant wake-up. It’s the least I can do with the plans I have for you today.”

“You need time to rest,” you told him, remembering how your father and grandfather would be lost to sleep the first few days upon their return from deployment but also you needed him to be turning you inside out sooner rather than later. Your knuckles caressed his rosy cheeks, turning your fingers to follow his faint scars but he was never self-conscious with you, not the way you treasured them. You’d missed the feel of the wiry-raised skin under your touch and reached up to kiss each and every one.

“Oh, baby, that is so good,” he murmured, sinking further into you. You kissed the biggest scar on his shoulder, and your hands drifted down his strong side, the thick muscles contracting as you touched him.

“You sure you’re not too sleepy, big boy?” your voice was like liquid gold to his ears as your silken tongue followed your favourite scar across his throat, his Adam’s Apple bobbing under the strain.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead. Hold that thought, love,” he promised you. He pulled away and you immediately missed the feel of his skin against yours, knowing your eyes were watching his every move. He moved to stand, and loosened his zip down, knowing full well that a little show to remove his slacks could turn you a little wild. Just how he loved you with that look from doe-eyed that you were home, to dark and carnal for him. He carefully shimmied the waist down, already so hard and wanting and he let his last remaining item of clothing fall, dropping his boxer briefs with his slacks. “Miss me just a little?” he asked, licking his lips as he carefully stroked himself, languid and delicate. It felt so good to know how close he was to claiming you. He heard your sweet little gasp, giving you another few moments to watch him.

You were overwhelmed by your own body heat, every nerve ending on fire. “Just a little. Your body is perfect,” you breathed, licking the side of your lip like a woman parched. You loved watching him touch himself and, on those rare occasions, when you’d shared a little mutual masturbation, you could cry out louder than if he were inside you merely from the sight alone, but that wouldn’t cut it now. You loved watching Bradley Bradshaw touch himself. He groaned a little, watching the pad of your finger circling your belly button.

You needed him. You needed to feel him drive all his strength into you, have him find the places only he knew and fuck you so good, you’d weep.

“God, you look good. Do they just lock you in the gym when you’re on the carrier to come home looking more amazing than you did the last time I saw you?” you asked before you could stop yourself. “Is this what I get from the Navy as a welcome home gift after all the years of pain and disappointment?”

He hummed but couldn’t resist a giggle at your anti-Navy sentiment. “Gym relieves the tension on multiple fronts,” he admitted, a small sneer on his full lips, as he collected the pre-cum on the tip of his cock and his finger moved to your mouth, gratefully accepting it between your lips and he breathed, scared he was far too hot, too turned on, too close to ruining all this. You missed his taste, so distinctly him.

Crawling to cover you on the bed, his knees worked with his palms, holding your knees to thrust your thighs wide, cunt glistening and on display for him. “Gotta bury my cock in you. Feel how warm and soft you are again,” he professed wildly.

“What are you waiting for?”

“Gonna get you a little riled up for me first,” he chewed his lower lip, his deep tone decisive. “Eat you out as you deserve. Fuck you so deep your eyes roll back, and you’re just fuckin’ drunk on me,” he lowered his body to yours, his slippery tongue gleefully swirling around your straining nipple and he stared up at you as if you were his last meal. His gleaming sharp teeth sank into the soft flesh of your breast, your body contorting in bliss and utter defeat beneath him.

His words made you shamefully needy.

Your noises of pleasure and encouragement were just exquisite.

You pushed your chest closer to his mouth, forcing him to pay deliberate attention to your breasts, your fingers lacing behind his thick neck, your nails raking into his scorching skin to keep him there. He’d learned early on that you adored having your tits played with. He was an ass man by nature but he was easily swayed when held you from behind and cupped your breasts as he covered you, his thumb and index finger toying with your nipples until you begged for his cock, got yourself off on his fingers… or watched as you got off on your own while he fucked into you ruthlessly. “God, I’ve missed you,” you told him, voice dripping with want.

He palmed your other breast as he looked up and smiled lazily at you. “Nowhere near as close as I’ve missed you,” he nuzzled the soft skin, pressing in open-mouth kisses, his skilled tongue swirling your nipple, his honeyed eyes dark with their longing. He breathed into your skin as you almost begged. He loved nothing more than having you melting for him.

“Oh, God,” you mewled.

“Lemme take care of you for a bit, love, but tell me… did you touch yourself when I was away?” he pleaded to know the answer.

“I thought about you so much,” you admitted. “Obsessed with you,” your back curving your breast into his greedy mouth. “Couldn’t get you out of my brain.”

He hummed, pleased. What man didn’t want to hear those words? “But did you touch yourself?” Rooster kissed between your breasts, his tongue tracing to your belly button, he stared up at you with a curious gaze, eyes dancing in a way that you knew he was taunting you, awaiting your answer.

“Every night. Most mornings,” you confided. “It is hard to let you go, Bradshaw.”

He laughed into your skin. “Good girl. I hope you came hard. But I also hope it doesn't compare to the real thing.”

“Never,” you admitted. “Nothing compares to how you get me off on your perfect cock,” you traced the shell of his ear and he shuddered.

“Fuck. Tell me more…”

You took his hand tenderly. “How good these beautiful hands are, when they’re inside of me,” you patiently sucked on his index finger again, and he realised maybe… just maybe you were the one doing the taunting in the early hours of the morning. “How your slick tongue loops around my nipple and those perfect teeth bruise the flesh,” you moaned as he took note of your subtle hint, blowing his breath against the sensitive bud and watching it pucker for him as he kissed and boldly circled it with his thick tongue at your whim before giving the other the same devotion, if not more. “Jesus Christ. I could cum like this,” you accused lightly, knotting your fingers in his curls to keep him doing what he was doing with his mouth.

“Don’t you want my cock?”

“So bad,” you told him. “I’m so turned on.”

He hummed, his long finger sweeping through your slick folds and you told no lies. “Jesus Christ. But you don’t get to cum yet,” he moved his lips away from your nipple and you flopped back into the pillow, a little deflated.

He huffed a laugh, his tongue tracing your ribs. “I know you’re not working this morning. So, I’m gonna fuck you for hours. And then hours after that.”

The sound that escaped you was almost inhuman. “But shouldn’t I be taking care of you?” you asked incredulously as he moved to his belly on the bed, roughly spreading your legs wide for him and nuzzling at your clit, reacquainting himself with you.

“Sweet girl, this isn’t about me… yet,” he muttered, his long fingers stroking the soft skin of your labia. “I love goin’ down on you so fuckin’ much,” he said more to himself. He was showing the restraint of a saint, but for all his faults, he knew this guaranteed him going straight to heaven.

Rooster’s sex drive was notorious, and his cock was above average, how the fuck else did he get his call sign? Well, it wasn’t that straightforward but the mix of wanton needs and fucking hating early mornings despite the requirement, it was interchangeable. He let people make their own assumptions, but only a few knew. Like you. “Lay back and do as you're told.”

“You’ve been at sea for months,” you tried, breath hitching as his lips nipped against the soft skin on your inner thighs. “Roost – Bradley,” your tone is a mixture of warning and lascivious need.

His eyes changed as he stared up at you, a mix of want and desire laced within the gold and honey of his colour. “You’ll make it up to me, but you just looked so pretty, love, sprawled out under the sheets, naked, soft. Those sounds you were making while I kissed you made me so fuckin’ hard,” he confided, his kiss wet as he directed his attention to your clit. “Nothing compares to being here with you.”

Your hips vaulted off the mattress almost immediately, and he used his strong hands to keep you pinned down to take everything he was offering you. His tongue traced the slick already formed, at home with a taste he knew so well.

“Bradley,” you almost chastised as your head lolled back and your nails raked into his brawny shoulders. “I want to feel you in me, I want you to feel me cum.”

“Plenty of time for that,” he shushed you, his tongue swirling at your clit, lapping up the juices that were making the most obscene sounds with his tongue. He had never been so turned on and declining to fuck you immediately was one of the hardest things he’d ever said no to, and he never ever said no to you. He smiled wickedly, feeling that familiar tremble in your thighs as he knew you were closing in on what he hoped was a really fuckin’ good orgasm, gagging to explode. Your moans, the way you squirmed beneath him, thrusting towards his mouth desperate to take all he had to offer.

“Bradley…” you drawled, the bliss in your tone turning him to jelly.

“Love,” he acknowledged, sliding his fingers in and adding to the ruthless assault.

“I missed this,” your breathing hitched as his talented fingers crooked inside you, finding that magical spot and you cursed, the pressure building in your stomach, tensing, flexing, forcing him to use his strength to keep you on your back.

“You ready to cum for me?” he asked in that rasp, thicker and dire with longing. “God, you’re a sight,” he murmured, his tongue darting out and circling your clit, dark eyes not leaving your form. He groaned, your fingers tugging at his now mussed curls. No longer a gentleman, just a man waiting for his woman to fall apart for him.

“Bradley,” you managed.

“Come on,” he growled. “Let your fuckin’ neighbours know your man is home.”

You managed a grin as he released your thighs and let your pussy grind into his eager mouth. Holy shit, he was incredible. A God of a man… and all yours. All fucking yours. It was enough to make you crack, the pressure on your senses overtaking you as you threatened to cum messily.

Your voice didn’t call to him as feral as you felt, but you breathed his name out as you gripped his strong, muscular shoulders and let go, your orgasm ripping through your body like an earthquake. Your body was on high alert as he greedily lapped up all you gave him.

“Thatta girl, just like that. Fuck, you look so good,” he murmured, banking the memory of you coming undone and all under his power. The way your body moved and quaked, Jesus Christ, he would bottle it if he could. “That’s my sweet girl,” he mumbled, awed, as you fell back against the pillows, blissed out… just how he liked it. He pressed against your tummy, his lips leaving your dripping core and travelling back up your torso, sweeping a path of your slick and his saliva against your blistering skin. He revelled in the explosions and goose pimples splaying across your skin as his lips moved over it. “Yes, love, I know,” he said as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, needing him close, and he gazed at you with soft eyes as his tongue skimmed your throat. Wet kisses continued as he devoured between your breasts, the sensations on your skin too much as you writhed with sensitivity. “You did so good, love.”

Love. There it was again. He hadn’t really called you that before; you’d heard it thrice, maybe more, in quick succession. To say you were fond of it was an understatement. You were so used to being his Sweet Girl… but you craved to be his Love. The rumble of it off his tongue was unimaginable.

“Tell me what you need,” you begged him. “I’ll do anything,” you gingerly pulled yourself off the bed and rolled him over, really seeing him for the first time since he got home. Sweet, kind, funny Bradley Bradshaw. You raffled off those positions he adored most, which brought you as much pleasure as him. “Be selfish, Bradley. Tell me what you want,” you pleaded with him.

He breathed deeply. “Be selfish…” he repeated. He was never asked to be selfish, your divine voice clouding his judgement as he pulled you to his waist, exhaustion be damned.

“Want me to ride you, big boy?” you offered, moving to straddle his powerful quads, taking his leaking cock in your earnest palms, your thumb circling around the tip. He hissed, eyes fluttering closed as you lightly worked him. He let you disarm him for a minute or two, your skilled hands knowing exactly how he needed to be touched. The right pressure, the right speed. His murmurs quiet and abs clenched as he tried to hold it together. He didn’t want to cum like this. He shook his head slowly and sat up, you were face to face. “Blow you?”

He said a quiet no as you continued to palm his thick, long cock melodiously. “Fuck,” he breathed through his nose. “That feels good. Three months… too damn long.”

“I know, baby,” you agreed. “Doggy?” you offered, and he shook his head, trying not to laugh. “Plain, old missionary?” you goaded when you didn’t get a response. You felt his cock twitch and knew he would cum if you kept up your ministrations.

He bit back a smile. “Baby… just sit where you are and be with me,” he ordered quietly, releasing your hands and guiding himself into you, fully sheathed as you both preened to the new feeling. It had been too long for you both. He sat up and lengthened his long, strong legs before him. You were face to face and you crept to your knees.

It was an unbreakable moment and you’d never felt more adored as he tenderly grasped your chin and brought you closer to kiss your forehead. “Just still, you and me.”

You held his face softly in your hands and searched his handsome features. “Just still,” you repeated, a gasp escaping your lips as you resisted moving and keeping your promise to him. “Tell me… you’re okay, baby?”

While the impression of a grin didn’t spread wide across his handsome features, the affection in his eyes didn’t lie. “I’m fan-fucking-tastic, sweet girl. Safe and sound,” he replied with a quiet quiver in his voice as he strained to remain within you, cool and calm.

And it had been so long that he’d felt like someone genuinely missed him. Your adoration for him was palpable and almost overwhelmed him. “I’m so happy you’re home. While you were gone, everything was just so…” your voice trailed off.

“Just so, huh?” his lip quivered as he licked back a smirk.

“Just so,” you established, unable to consider the words. You combed your fingers through his unkempt curls and laced your hands behind his neck, massaging his solid traps. He smiled, his face nearing yours.

“I don’t apologise,” he laughed wholly against your lips before kissing you. “I’ll never apologise for that.”

“I’d never want you to,” you replied as he adjusted his posture and found a spot deep inside that spoke deeply to you. “Fuck, this feels so good. You feel bigger than I remember.”

“Compliments like that will get you far, kid. Just go with it. I know it’s a lot,” he talked you through it. “Gonna make everything better, I promise.”

“You’re holding out on me,” you gave a watery sigh.

“Stamina,” he shrugged, arrogantly. Rooster rarely reminded you about the threshold of his physical limits. You knew, but Jesus, there was no keeping a good man down. “Behave, and you might get what you deserve.”

“I dread to think,” your eyes closing of their own volition. “Fuck, I don’t think I can do this.”

“You can do this,” he whispered, brushing away a single tear from your sweltering cheek.

“No, I need to move or something, Bradley. Anything,” you whined.

Rooster chuckled, a deep grumble rising from his belly, and you could feel it exponentially. His laughter into your skin as you relaxed your weight on him, exactly what he wanted as you rested for forehead on his brawny shoulder, but it didn’t soothe any desire for you. “That’s my girl,” he said, swallowing hard. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

“I’m trying so hard not to cum and you’re not even moving,” you blinked through tears that threatened as he felt your pussy flutter around him. He sighed, his heart racing. “Everything is in hyper colour.”

“I know, baby,” he grasped your chin and moved to kiss you again. “You’re doing beautifully.”

“Please fuck me, Bradley. I need you,” you begged. “I can’t do this.”

“Just a little while longer, baby. I’m not hurting you?”

“No,” you kissed him, you wanted to devour him. “Definitely not hurting me, just feels too damn good.”

Without responding, his body kicked into gear, his pelvis pressing up and his cock burying itself deeply as you cried out, leaning back and resting a palm on the bed to move to an angle that made him just that more godly. “That’s good,” he instructed, raising your hips to rest against his powerful thighs as his hips rolled sinfully slow. “I want you to touch yourself.”

And who were you to argue? You knew his eyes were glued to your body as he continued thrusting into you methodically, you needed the respite. But if he wanted to be teased, that’s what you’d give him, your free palm gripping your at your breasts, pressing and pulling against your nipples as you met his thrusts. You could cum as you were and sucked in a sharp breath, hoping to hold out a little longer for him. His eyes were keenly on where your bodies met and he groaned as your fingers followed down your belly, opening yourself to him and swirling at your clit.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” he asked, his hips speeding and pushing up into you. “Get yourself there, love. I wanna see you cum again. You’re so wet, can’t last,” he chewed his lip, watching your hand play with your pretty pussy. “So close, you’re so tight. Little more, love,” he cursed as you started to crumble, your cunt pulsating around him like a vice grip, the tremours bringing out the raw side of him and he fucked you madly, harder, rougher, wanting to take as much of you for himself.

“Bradley,” you panted, his name falling from your lips like a song as he licked his fingers and reached to furiously rub your clit with your own, sending you over the edge, your body shuddering uncontrollably and coating his cock with your slick juices. He cursed and his hips stuttered, pounding into you roughly as came viciously, milking his cock with all you had. He didn’t think he’s cum so hard, your body dragging out his orgasm until you were both spent.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathed a litany of curses as he pulled you to sit up and collapse against him, exhausted. He smoothed your hair back and tried to collect himself although the way you were licking and caressing his clavicle and that vein that ran down his neck, he almost forgot his goddamn name, his body sensitive in the afterglow. “I love you; I love you so fuckin’ much it makes me crazy,” he admitted as you clasped his face demanding, your tongue sweeping against his lips to kiss him roughly.

“I love you so much, Bradley. I could cum for you all day,” you swore as he giggled quietly against your lips.

“I’m holding you to that today, sweet girl,” he eased you back and his tongue darted out to swirl around your nipple. Jolts of pleasure shot through your body as you crudely raked his messy hair.

“Stop teasing,” you pleaded with him as he started to regulate his breathing.

“Can’t. It’ll be merciless all day, and tomorrow and every day after that. Want your body in every position we can conjure up.”

“Have I got you for a few days before you’re back on base?” you asked nervously, wrapping your arms around his shoulders like he could slip away at any moment. You needed him close and weren’t going to let him go easily.

“Few days,” he said softly, kissing your lips tenderly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, sweet girl.”

“Oh,” you said, staggered. Like it had even occurred to you what day it was when he wasn’t around. Christmas and New Year passed in a haze; you flat-out refused a single thought of Valentine's Day without him… and here he was before you. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Bradley Bradshaw. This is all I could ever want or need,” you said affectionately. He was exquisite as his cheeks flushed.

“Hold that thought,” he said, reaching for his boxers and going to catch the mess of your lovemaking. He tidied you up like always, without hesitation.

“Such a gentleman,” you baited as he winked.

“Least I can do. Be right back,” he figured before he popped up and left the room. You sighed and moved up the bed, snuggling into the pillows, pulling the lone sheet back up your body and trying to avoid the morning chill in the room. He reappeared a moment later, water in hand, a bouquet of multicoloured roses in the other and you could feel your grin spread across your face. “Where - how did you get them?” you asked suspiciously as he offered you the glass first and you took an enthusiastic gulp. He laughed, as he wiped away the dribble that escaped your lips.

“The florist you like,” he admitted. “But don’t ask how I managed to wrangle roses on Valentine’s Day.”

“You wore your uniform,” you didn’t even have to think about it. “Who says no to a man in uniform?”

He shrugged, handing them to you. “Not many,” he rubbed the back of his neck, bashfully before moving to his side of the bed. “I’m so glad to be home.”

You put the glass and flowers on the bedside table and wrapped your arms around his neck to kiss him as if your lives depended on it. “You’re the love of my life, Rooster Bradshaw.”

He hummed. “Same, sweet girl,” he kissed you again; before you knew it, it was round two.

…that fucking 1 per cent.

A while later, finally mobile after hours in bed, you watched Bradley put together the best he could with the fruit and soft cheese you were going to spoil yourself with later that night (it wasn’t grocery day and you weren’t expecting to have to feed him too, you protested and he cackled).

But he was ravenous, and while sexy, a hangry Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t pleasant. So after a shared shower, you tossed on a tee while he was left with a pair of his boxer briefs he must have left accidentally and you’d found a few months back that you’d washed so they were ready for exceptions just like this.

A mix of 60’s Motown played quietly and while you’d always loved it, he’d helped you appreciate it so much more.

You muttered the lyrics to Smokey Robinson’s ‘Tracks of My Tears’ quietly while playing with a hole in the threadbare NAVY tank you wore, Bradley’s toe-tapping with the beat, muscles in his back and shoulders like poetry in motion as he pottered.

He looked stronger, broader, and tanner, you noted as you sat on the bench, watching him work intently. You didn’t reckon you’d ever felt like this. So drawn to someone, it scared you. And rightfully so. Rooster was everything you didn’t want to fall for. High-risk job, away so often, the Navy. But you’d never felt so confident in love either. You were so in love with Bradley Bradshaw. He had changed you; and for the better.

You smiled as he approached with a strawberry in his fingertips. “Open…”

You did as he instructed, chewing gently on his finger teasing, the sweetness of the berry a sudden craving. His eyebrow quirked. “Good?”

You nodded, completely transfixed over him. You pulled a knee to your chest, resting your heel on the bench. Eyes watching him, doting. “Delicious.”

“More?”

“Yes, please,” you replied softly and he brought the plate over to share, standing between your legs, holding a strawberry between his gleaming teeth. It was so fucking cheesy, but it was an excuse to kiss him. You managed to keep your hands to yourself as you stretched for his lips, teeth darting for the fruit and took a careful bite and his lips tenderly caught yours. You sighed into the kiss as he dragged you to him, his strong palm wide and flat against your lower back.

“I’m so glad to be home,” he confided. Of course you knew, but his tone was different. “I was away longer than we’ve been together.”

You knew, dear God, you knew. You’d always been impatient by nature, a direct causation from your father and grandpa doing this too… and it never got easier. You’d learned to know days, hours, minutes and seconds intimately. It made you appreciate the time to yourself, but in the past, you’d find ways to amuse yourself, like packing your bags and just getting out of the confines of your four walls. These days, like you’d told Bradley earlier, everything was just so. Just morning, just afternoon, just time for bed. And you shrugged gently, mostly for his benefit. “Nature of the beast,” you hummed.

He nodded faintly. “Baby, I’m being recalled to Top Gun next week. There are about 12 grads being brought in. High stakes but no one are really talkin’ much. I’m going to probably ship out in a month or so.”

You nodded again. Fuck... “Okay, sweetheart,” you answered, just like you were trained to make it easier on the men in your life. But your palms were suddenly clammy, your heart was pounding, blood pulsating in your ears and your anxiety was bubbling roughly under the surface. You knew what this meant, you knew it all too well. Grandpa used to put these highly specialised operational teams together when you were growing up. You’d never forget his guilt when parts of the detachment didn’t come home. It still lived deeply with him.

He sighed, his palm running down the side of your face and forcing your gaze to his. “But I’m taking some extended time off after that, okay? I’d really like us to go somewhere. Escape San Diego. Drive to Mexico, get on a fucking plane to Hawaii, fuckin’ Alaska, I don’t care. Just you and me. No one else.”

He’d spat out a lot in a space of ten seconds. Top Gun, high stakes. A vacation. His train of consciousness confused you but you nodded because you figured it was what he needed. “Okay, whatever you want. That sounds amazing. Beach.”

He gave a faint grin, not really surprised by your vote. “Take you anywhere you wanna go. But just us.”

His stipulation was easy to agree to. “Okay,” you cupped his flushed cheek as he burrowed into your touch. You pulled him to you and held him close. You’d learnt this in the short time you’d known him that he craved being held and you would pull him into your arms anytime he needed it... and those times you did too. “Us.”

“Anywhere you want, okay?” He rested his forehead against yours as the song changed and a small smile that didn’t meet his eyes. He helped you from the bench top and pulled you into his strong, protective arms. “I love this song.”

Otis Redding, These Arms of Mine.

“Me, too,” you said like a secret as he lowered you to the floor. You watched him expectedly and took your hand in his, pressing it against his rapidly beating heart. His hand on your back guided you that one step further so that your bodies were flush against each other. He moved so fluidly, it only made you appreciate his body more.

He rested his chin on your hair, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “The absolute goddamn desire. I think I know exactly how it feels,” he said quietly. “I definitely get the loneliness part. You know,” he paused, waiting for the line. “These arms of mine, they are burning, burning from wanting you. These arms of mine, they are wanting, wanting to hold you,” he sang lowly and you’d be lying to say you didn’t feel like you were falling just a little deeper. And you didn’t know how much deeper you could get.

“I dreamed of you every night I was away, I couldn’t get you out of my brain,” he confided, loosening his arms from his hold you around the waist, skilfully dipping you. You wrapped your leg around him, keeping him there. He’d make sure you didn’t fall.

You were familiar. “It’s going to be so hard,” you blinked back tears although you were in his arms, already fearing the next deployment and the distance it brought.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he tenderly kissed you, tightening his hold just that little more. “I will always come back to you.”

“It scares me what you do, Bradley. It’s a different scary than Grandpa and Dad…” you buried your face in his chest, not daring to meet his eyes. He hummed to the affirmatory. It was palpable how terrified you were for him. He didn’t know how to reassure you that he would be fine, he’d done this for years. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

He sighed heavily and guided your eyes to his. “You’ll never have to wonder, okay? Oh, baby,” he said, thumbing away a stray tear. He kissed you tenderly, putting all his reassurance and devotion into it. “Don’t cry. I’m here now, let’s make the best of this time,” with that, he stood you up and started to sway you again, nuzzling his nose from the curve of your ear to your jaw. He gently tipped your chin, allowing him access to drop hot, wet kisses against your flushed skin and he knew he heard you moan quietly. “Just play out the rest of the song with me, okay?” he instructed, his large palms caressing down your side, pressing your waist into his.

For a moment, you forgot everything, your brain short-circuiting on his strength, scent and tone. “I love you,” you breathed as he slipped his palm under your thighs and hitched you without warning or effort into his powerful arms. He eased you back against the bench and god, you’d forgotten how good it was to just kiss him. The tickle of his moustache and rub of his stubble against your cheeks, something devilishly sexy, so used to his baby-soft skin and the occasional rupture of scars, his tongue smooth against yours, laced in desperation. Your hands followed the ridges and peaks of his torso and back, making him smile against your lips as you tickled him. “Take me to bed, big boy,” you whispered.

“Yes, ma’am, thank you, ma’am,” he murmured against your lips and carried you away.

You were so carried away.

“Love, you here?” The front door slammed and you jumped, grasping at your cold, old heart. A very unlike Bradley Bradshaw entrance.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered to yourself. “Couch,” you called to him, his heavy boots clunking down the hallway before he appeared, face hard, flight suit to his waist, dark undershirt saturated, curls dripping, biceps defined. He didn’t shower at work, you noted. He never came home in his flight suit if he could help it, choosing to leave work at work. He tossed his keys, phone and glasses on the bench and crossed his arms, not daring to approach you. “Bradley, you gave me a fucking heart attack,” you exclaimed with a nervous laugh, standing to greet him and break the tension with some comedy. “Dinner is staying warm in the oven. I didn’t expect you to be so late, baby.”

“Me either, I’m sorry,” he stood before you, stoic, hard. Angry. No, apoplectic. A silent white rage you’d never seen from him before, you could feel it radiate, just pouring off his skin. You should have been concerned he was wearing a face of stone, and truthfully, you’d never seen him so upset. But also? It was simply divine. He was very sexy when he was gruff. All muscles and sweat and muscles. Was he angry at you? Fuck, back up a minute.

“Are you okay?” You asked, confused and maybe a little fearful of his answer. You took his calloused hands in yours, clutching them tightly and forced his dark eyes to yours. “Talk to me, Bradley. Did something happen?”

He’d left this morning upbeat and excited, looking forward to whatever the day promised him with his new detachment. But your blood ran cold with his answer. “Yeah,” he nodded, staring down at you, jaw tight, voice chillingly even. “Mav is back.”

epilogue.

masterlist.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

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roryzlittles1ut · 5 months

Text

Mike head canons (I want his kids)

(Yes I used these photos)

SFW:

He would love you sitting on his lap. No matter where you guys are, at the bar, at his house, anywhere. He wants you on his lap at all times.

He might be very rough and mean to his buddies, but he’s never mean to you. He’s a sweetheart when it comes to you, knowing his rough demeanor might scare you. (He’s shocked if you find it hot.)

Mike mostly wears tank tops. Almost all the time, you’ll see Mike wearing a tank top.

He would let you wear his cowboy hat, and his jacket. Idk, he just likes you wearing them.

OMG YOU WOULD SEE HIM WITH HIS HAIR TIED UP. (I’m dead.)

He would show you his guns, but tell them they’re only for display instead of telling you the truth, thought you already know.

His hands bro. Literally, he would have rough, veiny hands. (I’m giggling). He really likes touching you, so you get a good glimpse of his hands.

His favorite place to kiss you is the neck and collarbone, and your lips ofc. Mike would definitely give you hickeys, but if you don’t like/want any, he will respect that. He would be a bit disappointed, but he respects you.

It’s not really a head canon, just an opinion but Mike would be the most loyal boyfriend. (Did yall not see how he like..basically comforted that girl?!)

NSFW:

He’s a softdom, but if you like it rough..he will go rough.

He’s an ass man. Mike loves slapping that ass of yours, in public, at home. Shit, he would go into the bathroom as you’re showering, open the curtain, and just slap your ass.

Mike adores you when you ride him. He’ll move his hands down to squeeze your ass, maybe even slap it. (I need Mike so bad). He’ll comment on how good you’re doing too.

“Mhm..yeah. Good girl/boy. Keep riding my cock. Fuck you feel so good. I love watching you ride me. You look so..fucking hot!”

10 inches. He gets a bit nervous that you can’t really take his size, but loves it when he finds out you can.

Fem! Omfg let him eat you out. Did yall see that tongue scene?! ISTG BRO LET HIM BC YOU’LL BE IN FUCKING HEAVEN.

Male! Just..listen to me. Let him suck your cock. Like I said, did yall not see that tongue scene?!

When he’s about to cum, he’ll groan and squeeze you, begging you to take it. If you’re riding him, he’ll move you faster as if you’re a sex doll, but if he’s on top..be prepared.

“Fuck! I’m gonna cum. Let me cum in you. I want to fill you up with every last drop of my cum. Aw..you’re doing so good for me~!”

#rory culkin #i love him sm.#pls give me a chance #mike #mike 5lbs of pressure

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sweetsweetjellybean · 4 months

Note

Oh sweet sweet jellybean... How about a caption for this baby? 💋

I know this was probably meant to be fratboy!Steve but this one just kind of took root. I do have a second request with this photo specifically for frat boy so keep your eyes out for that. I hope this one is still okay and you enjoy it!

Hot For Teacher – Blurb

“What are you boys doing here this late? Is that a flask in your hand, Mr. Harrington?” As you cross the parking lot, the click of your heels on the asphalt punctuates each word. The ache in your calves matches the one growing behind your eyes. It’s been a long day – a long week, for that matter and the last thing you're interested in is dealing with any more students, especially cocky basketball players who think they're above the rules.

“Let’s go, give it to me.” Extending your hand, you close the distance.

“I’ll give it to you.” The voice comes from the crowd—Harrington, Tommy H, or one of the others whose names don't seem worth remembering. Their eyes, glassy and brimming with swagger, barely conceal their snickers.

Your expression hardens, a practiced look of authority taking shape as your hand finds its way to your hip. “You with the glasses, you’re about as smart as you look, aren’t you? Wipe that smile off your face.”

Their laughter fades, eyes shifting downward, lips pressed tight in a failed attempt to hide their amusement—except for Harrington. As your gaze settles on him, he stands taller. His posture defiant – hat on backwards, an eyebrow arching in challenge. Meeting his gaze without a word, you extend your hand once more.

He hesitates before pressing the smooth metal flask into your hand, his fingers lingering longer than necessary against your wrist. Locking eyes with him, you unscrew the cap and bring the container to your nose. Bourbon – warm and smoky, not the cheap stuff. Procured from his father's liquor cabinet, no doubt. You stretch your arm to the side and turn your wrist. The rest of the alcohol pours onto the ground, eliciting a round of groans.

“Is there any more?” You ask, tossing the flask back to Steve. “Empty your bags. Now.”

Murmurs of complaint ripple through them, as they fidget and shift in a vain attempt to stall.

That’s when Harrington steps forward, his confidence on full display. “Come on, teach. We’re celebrating our win. Where’s your school spirit?” He asks, turning up the charm with his best, winning smile. “You could stay and have a drink with us.”

“Excuse me,” you huff out on an incredulous breath as he edges forward.

“It could be fun,” he suggests with a shrug, “You’re not that much older. Live a little. Let that pretty hair down.”

His hand rises toward your temple, but you're quick to bat it away. “Have you lost your mind, Mr. Harrington?”

His eyes roll, amusement lingering in his smile. He leans in slightly, lowering his voice, “We could go somewhere else if you want. I could drive you home after.”

Your mouth drops open at his audacity, but it only eggs him on. “You know what you’re doing. Running around in those tight skirts that hug that ass just right. I’m sure you thought about it.” He takes a step back, his eyes traveling up and down your body before his lips twist into a smug smirk. “I know I have.”

The air seems to thicken as the moment stretches, quiet enough to hear a pin drop until the scuff of a sneaker kicking at the crumbling blacktop has the bubble popping. “Well, I hope running laps will give you something else to think about. I’ll be letting Coach know all about this little celebration. Now take a step back, Mr. Harrington.”

His hands raise in surrender as he retreats back to his friends.

“Now, if you all aren’t out of my sight in the next five seconds, it’s going to be detention for the rest of the year.” They probably know your threat is empty. You have as little desire to sit in an empty classroom after school hours as they do, but they scatter anyway, unwilling to test the waters any further.

Your arms cross over your chest as you watch the cars their parents pay for kick up dust on their way out of the parking lot. With a tired sigh, you head back to the school to grab the last box from your classroom. Your steps echo in the empty halls. You pause when you catch sight of yourself in a mirror bolted to the wall. Slowly, you turn, looking over your shoulder at your reflection. A small smile curves your lips upwards before you continue down the hall, adding a little sway to your hips.

#caption the photo #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #stranger things fanfic

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kingofthe-egirls · 10 months

Note

pspspspsps love, I have another one-

phone sex with Luffy?😶

hnnnnnngggg thank youuuu

PHONE SEX: LUFFY x Y/N

modern au

(cw: facetime, modern au, pet names, long distance relationship, dirty talk, phone sex, mutual masturbation, toys, this is now part of my modern au mma!luffy series lmao, this is from Luffy's pov)

Songs: "Big God" by Florence + the Machine

words: 1.7k

"Baaaabe," Luffy whines, on the other end of your FaceTime.

He's kneeling on a hotel bed, phone propped up by a scuffed, metal water bottle. There are stickers emblazoned all over the shiny red: mostly ads from sponsors, his own straw hat skull-and-crossbones, plus a sticker of a cool katana Zoro had found for him. He's watching you bite your lip through the screen of his phone, far too small and rectangular to capture the fact of yourself. He hates long distance.

But he'll be home in a week, and then you can come visit.

"Hey, Luffy," you smile, glittering through the screen. He wants you here, now. You flick your hair over your shoulder, leaning down on the couch with your arm resting along the back. You prop your chin in one hand.

Luffy eyes you up and down: from your face to just below your collarbones, the lamplight behind you, and the top of the couch is all he can see. "Put the phone down, baby," he pants, already heavy with lust. He misses your sweet cunt so bad. "I wanna see all of ya," he whines. You giggle, and step forward to set your phone on the coffee table in front of you. Now, Luffy can see you sitting back on the couch, in pajama shorts and a tank top. Your legs are really cute, he thinks, as you bring them up to sit cross-legged in between the couch cushions. You sink in, slightly.

Luffy giggles, "Comfy there, princess?"

You blush.

"I like the in-between," you defend yourself, slouching back farther and sinking in like quicksand. Luffy laughs, out loud. He likes how silly are, sometimes. Other times, he wants to see you gagged on his cock. (But oh well, you'd probably make him laugh with his dick halfway down your throat, anyway). You kick your feet.

"But then I can't see ya," he whines, palming the front of his red boxers. "I wanna play, kitten." He hooks his thumb into the waistband, and drags them down an inch. Your eyes go wide, and he grins.

"Okay," you agree, immediately. You're already pulling your shirt halfway over your head, curled like a shrimp into the couch cushions. You shriek, caught, and kick your legs like a grasshopper trying to get out. Luffy cackles, bending forward to screenshot your call.

"You're like a beetle," he grins, saving a new photo to his favorites, "That got turned upside down."

"'M not a beetle!" You shout, having knelt up on the cushions to push them back roughly together. You're bent over, one leg on the floor and the other still on the couch. He watches your ass fill the screen, appreciating the tiny booty shorts you're wearing to bed. They're hot pink with a neon stripe down each side.

"Cute as a beetle," he counters, biting his lip. His hard cock is straining against his boxers, now, and he can't wait to just bend you over and rail you from behind. Damn, this week is gonna be a lifetime waiting for you to come visit him. He'll have to fly you out first class, no questions asked. (Maybe your girlfriend might wanna come, too).

But he files that thought away for later, watching you sit back down with a huff, now in nothing but your sports bra. He flicks an eyebrow.

"So, ya gonna strip for me?"

You laugh, pulling at the elastic strap as it digs into your shoulder. He can see your tits spilling out from the too-small bra. He fights back a moan, but just barely. He watches you skim your hands over every hill and valley in your voluptuous body. He fucking loves your curves.

You lean forward towards the camera, letting your cleavage spill out nice and close for him to see. You giggle, "Wanna see a titty drop?"

He chokes out a laugh, and then, "Please."

You smirk, knowing full well what you do to him, and slowly lift your bra up from the bottom. You pull upward, exposing the underside of your breasts, before releasing them completely so they bounce back down against your chest. He licks his lips.

"Do that again."

And you do.

He watches with glassy eyes as you slowly, meticulously, bring your sports bra back down, black and stretched out over your frame. You bounce a little, in your seat. He gasps.

"C'mon, man," his voice cracks, "That's just not fair."

You laugh, pleased. He tilts his head, "Don'tcha do this professionally? What are your like, signature moves?" He kneels back on the bed, running a hand through his hair.

You hum, throwing your own hair up into a bun. You don't like when it touches your bare skin, apparently. ADHD thing, he figures.

"Well, you just saw one," you smile slightly as you readjust in your seat. You're sitting with one leg under you, the other draped over the side of the couch. You pull at the bottom of your sports bra, and he moans as he watches you slowly strip for him.

You bend over, leaning against the back of the couch, your ass spread nice and wide for him. "Such a good fucking ass," he praises you, and you turn over your shoulder to smile at the screen.

"Wanna leave your handprint on it?" You ask wryly, bending over more and hitching your shorts up higher, so barely anything is left covered. He sees your glistening slick through the thin fabric. He wants to touch.

"Fuck yes," he breathes, reaching inside his shorts, "Take those off."

"Yes, sir," you reply daintily, turning to slide your own shorts over your hips. He watches the pink fabric slip down your legs, revealing the crease of your hips and your sweet inner thigh as you do. Fuck it, he decides, he wants to taste. You sit down with a satisfied, smug grin. "That's my second move," you flick your eyes up and down your phone screen, no doubt taking in the sight of him fisting his cock over you. Luffy tugs his shorts the rest of the way down, and you gasp.

"That's my first," he says, grinning, "Well, the first is calling you, and begging you to strip," he scratches his head. "That's not a very powerful move, is it?" He laughs, sheepishly. Needy, much?

"Not a bad move," you decide, leaning forward to pick up the phone. He gets a closeup shot of your face again. You’re smiling, shy, holding the phone high enough so he can see your gorgeous tits splay out to either side of your ribcage.

“Your turn!” You say as you settle back down into the couch pillows, supported by the large, canvas armrest. Luffy slides his boxers down all the way, kicking them off his legs and leaving them on the floor.

You moan, and he lights up. “Yeah?” He asks, pumping his cock in a loose fist, “Like whatcha see?”

“Mhmm,” you moan, biting your lip. You reach over to your side, thumping around for a bit, before he hears the sound of a vibrator turning on. He giggles at the buzzing, and you blush.

“Show me,” he teases, and you hold up a lavender clit sucker with light pink buttons. He hums appreciatively. “Pretend it’s my mouth, okay?”

“Yes, daddy,” you chirp, and grin slightly as you place the toy between your legs. You gasp a little as the pressure locks into your clit. Luffy tightens his grasp on his dick.

“So pretty for me, baby,” he coos at you through the phone speaker. He wishes he could breathe it into your ear, halfway buried in your cunt.

Just one more week.

“Daddy’s gonna take such good care of ya,” he moans. He feels himself thicken in his hand. “‘M gonna spoil ya rotten, okay? Don’t gotta worry about a thing, with me,” he grunts, bucking his hips.

He’s watching your flushed face contort in pleasure, taking the vibrations oh so sweetly from your clit sucker. “Show me,” he breathes, speeding up, “Show me what that toy’s doin’ to ya.”

You moan, and lower the camera so that he can see you from the pussy up. Like he’s eating you out.

He groans.

“Fuck baby, ya look so good,” he reaches forward to grab his phone, bringing the screen closer to his face as he screenshots several times. “Can’t fucking wait ta have ya in my mouth again,” his cock twitches at the memory.

He leans his head back, pumping his fist, as he listens to your moans and imagines it’s your mouth on his dick.

“Wantcha right here,” he huffs, chest heating with lust. His eyes are half-lidded, and he has to let go of his cock to push the sweaty hair back from his face. You moan at the sight, bringing the phone back up to your face.

“Can I screenshot you?” You ask, hitching your breath as the buzzing speeds up. He grins, thinking he probably should’ve asked first, but oh well. No time like the present.

“Course,” he says, voice thick, “What about me? Can I screenshot ya? I wanna look back atcha later.” You giggle, and nod. He lets out a sigh of relief. Good.

“Show me your hands?” You ask, hungrily. “Your shoulders, too.”

Luffy grins, more than happy to oblige. He leads the camera down his muscular frame, letting his free hand drape over his chest and abs as he pans the phone down. He focuses on his hips for a bit, slowly pumping his cock in time with your moans. Your breath hitches, and he wishes it was his cock fucking those noises out of you, instead.

He clenches his hand in and out of a fist, wiggling his fingers a little bit. You stare, doe-eyed and dumbfucked as you focus on the hands that have made you cum countless times before. He wishes he could fuck you with his hand again—that’ll be the first thing he does when he gets you in his bed.

“Love your hands, Luffy,” you say, eyes blown as you stare at the phone. He wishes he could kiss you, too. As it is, he smooches at the screen, and you laugh.

“Love you,” he says, feeling warm and fuzzy in the bleach-scented bed. He frowns. “Miss you.”

“Miss you too, baby,” you say, and then, “Love you too.”

He beams.

****

#ok ok ok ok ok #luffy x you #luffy x reader #luffy x y/n #luffy fanfic #luffy smut #dumpster dive #my writing #one piece smut #request #anemptypuddingcup #modern au #one piece modern au

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drag0nashes · 4 months

Text

I mayyyy be jumping on the "Rosie is Lilith in disguise" theory. I did a bunch of research showing that this theory is true, and even found some more while making this post! (this is a long one, so pull up a chair and grab the popcorn!)

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First things first: vivzie tends to drop these kinda hints through character design (ex: Vaggie with her X eye and angelic spear) so I found some designs that Rosie has that are similar to the morningstar family as a whole, characteristics relating only to Lilith, and even some designs qualities that contribute to the fact that she is indeed wearing a disguise.

Disguise: I noticed that Rosie's neck thing looks a lot like the part of the masks that the exorcist angels wear. This could mean that she is actually wearing a mask and hiding her identity. Even her outfit covers most of her body minus the hands.

family related characteristics: her hair looks awfully similar to lucifers and even Charlie's: with the hair swoop on one side and 2 bumps and 2 spikes on the other that all the morningstars have. She even has the rosie cheeks that both Lucifer and Charlie have incorporated into her 'mask'.

Lilith: Rosie also has the puff sleves, hat shape, skin tone, and body shape that Lilith has in the photo!

And even her hat has a snake-like thing on it, much like lucifers, that could be a hint as well. But that's just some similarities.

(Plus she could totally be hiding the rest of her hair in the big ass hat of her, but that one might be a stretch lol)

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Mannerism and emotions can also be great leads to theories (ex: Vaggie referring to Hell as "Charlie's people", and acting as though she didn't quite belong there)

"It can be hard to admit to things you're not proud of. Especially if those things hurt the ones you love."

This line got me thinking. The way Rosie said it sounded personal in the way that they would bring it up later on in the story.

What she could mean by this might have to do with the begging and the apple, or perhaps the reason she went "missing"?

And the fact that she was immediately so kind to Charlie makes me wonder a little. She even gave me motherly vibes: helping her with relationships (which I might add that she said was her "specialty". As though she dealt with a lot of love life issues) and her supportive behavior when Charlie was attempting to get help from Canibal Colonie.

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One more thing I'd like to add since you all might say "but we saw Lilith at the end" or "Lute referred to her as Lilith". Well, I had been watching a video relating to the theory that Lilith is an imposter on YouTube by Amy Lmao (@ayylmaotv) captioned: "is lilith an imposter in episode 8 hazbin hotel? ". Go watch it, it fills the plot hole!

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"Who hasn't thought of eating their first husband! I certainly would have if he didn't taste so bad."

I found this kind of funny if it was implied to be Adam, so I thought I'd throw it in there lol

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And that's the end! I definitely without a doubt believe that Rosie is Lilith in disguise no matter what anyone may say. All the evidence is overwhelming tbh. I worked very hard on this, and the first time I made it I was going to post it, but ended up deleting it. So I had to write it all down again from memory 😭 Thank you everyone who read to the end! Your prize? 10 cookies!

🎉🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🍪🎉

#i spent too much time making this #Rosie is Lilith #Lilith is an imposter #Rosie #lilith morningstar #lucifer #charlie morningstar #hazbin #hazbin hotel #vivziepop #hazbin theory #hazbin lore

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lgg5989 · 2 years

Text

Texas Longhorns

Okay so this idea came to me after I watched the Alabama vs Texas game like a million years ago (see: 1 month ago) and today is Glen's birthday and I just felt like it was a good day to release it.

Thanks to @barbiewritesstuff for editing this for me!

This contains NSFW content, please dni if you are a minor!!! 🔞

Warnings: pinv, oral (m and f receiving), innuendos, photo kink, just filth honestly, plot? What plot?

Lol happy birthday Glen!

Jake Seresin was a die hard University of Texas fan. It didn’t matter where they were playing, what time the game aired, or what channel it was on, he would find a way to watch the game. Hell, he had even, only once mind you, used a computer on the ship to watch the Oklahoma/Texas game from the middle of the Indian Ocean.

That’s how you knew, when you bought him tickets to their game against Alabama for his birthday, that you were going to have a hard time topping that gift next year. They weren’t the best seats in the stadium, but you knew that wouldn’t matter to him. He was slated to be on leave and the chance to take him to a game was too great.

After booking a hotel room and a flight to get you to Texas and back, you called the stadium and had them mail you the tickets. When they arrived, only a week before his birthday, you slid them into his card and signed it with a few xs and os before sealing it with a kiss.

You presented him with the card on the Friday before his big day, he looked at you suspiciously before asking, “What’s this sweets?”

“Open it and find out, cowboy,” you said, a smirk on your face.

He opened the card slowly, glancing at you now and then as he pulled out the birthday card. You knew he loved your gift when his jaw dropped and he looked at you with awe in his eyes.

“Are these real?” he asked, his voice filled with excitement.

You laughed at his expression before answering, “They are, and they have your name on them.”

Jake wrapped you up in the tightest hug you think you’d ever received, “Thank you, you’re amazing,” he whispered in your neck.

The memory of his excited face carried you through the next week and when the day of the game finally arrived, you were more than glad you had gotten the tickets. Jake had been excited all morning, dressing up in his orange jersey, a pair of jeans that you didn’t even know he owned, and his old cowboy boots. Finishing the look with his Stetson firmly planted on his head and a wink shot your way.

You laughed, “Are you ready there, birthday cowboy?”

Jake laughed at the addition to his nickname, “Yes ma’am, I believe I am,” he answered, tipping his hat at you with a flourish.

Pulling him to you by the fabric of his jersey, you pressed a kiss to his lips, “Then let’s get goin’,” you said, “Don’t wanna be late.”

Jake planted a slap on your ass as the two of you walked out the door and with that you were off to the DKR Memorial Football Stadium on Texas’ campus.

–

The game had been going so well, with the Longhorns holding their own against the number three ranked Red Tide. You and Jake were on your feet for the whole game, the energy of the crowd carrying you with it, and when the Longhorns lost by a single point you were both disappointed, they had been so close to the win, everyone could taste it. The energy that the crowd had been carrying dispersed with the loss and as you shuffled out of the stadium, you couldn’t help but feel sad at the disappointed look on Jake’s face.

“There’s always next year,” you offered, and he just shrugged.

On your way back to the hotel, you spotted a hole-in-the-wall looking bar. Pulling on Jake’s hand, you led him in the door, finding a bright orange crowd inside, all looking glumly at their beers. The two of you took two of the last seats at the bar.

“Whca’ drinkin’?” the bartender, an older man with a few cigarette stained teeth asked.

“Whiskey neat,” Jake ordered.

When the bartender turned towards you, you hesitated a moment, undecided about your drink before spotting your old trusty tap sitting behind the bar, “Could I get a Coors Light draft please?”

As the bartender walked away to get your drinks, Jake shook his head at you, “We are in a perfectly good bar and the only thing you can think of ordering is a Coors Light?”

You laughed at his teasing, “Well one of us has to be sober, Mr. I’m-going-to-shoot-whiskey-the-whole-night.”

“Hey! My team lost, I’m allowed to shoot whiskey,” he said defensively, cradling the glass that had been placed in front of him a little closer.

The two of you passed what remained of the afternoon and most of the evening sitting at the bar mourning the loss. When it came time for dinner, you ordered wings from the kitchen and you and Jake devoured them, having a contest to see who could eat the most, as always, he won.

Deciding it was time to leave, you paid the tab, much to Jake’s chagrin. You slid off your barstool and stood between his legs, pressing up to plant a kiss on his lips. Before Jake could figure out your motive, you plucked his Stetson from his head, pressing the warm leather down over your wild hair. A round of hoots and hollers filled the bar as they watched you slide your hand into Jake’s. Looking up at him, you saw his eyes were blown with lust and he had a smug grin on his face.

“Come on cowboy,” you said to him with a bright smile, winking before pulling him out of his seat, “I believe I owe you a ride.”

Jake let out a quiet laugh as he followed you out of the bar, his hands clamped down on your hips in a vice grip.

“What are you doing darlin’?” he asked, not used to seeing the daring, frisky side of you.

“Makin’ it up to you,” you answered, turning in his embrace to face him.

Jake let out a groan as you ran your hands up his arms, sliding them around his neck and into his flattened hair.

“Ya’ know you don’t have to do that,” Jake said, his eyes closed as you massaged his scalp.

You let out a quiet humm before leaning in and kissing his cheek, “I know, but I want to.”

With that, his eyes sprung open, and his hands tightened where they had been exploring how fine the jeans you had squeezed into made your ass look. Faster than you could process, he had pulled away from you and was now dragging you down the street.

“In a rush, cowboy?” you asked, laughing breathlessly while you tried to keep up with his long strides.

Jake slowed for only a moment before picking you up bridal style, “Yes, ma’am. If I don’t get you home now, we are both going to get arrested.”

You pressed his hat more securely on your head as you tilted back in his arms laughing.

—

The walk back to the hotel went quickly wrapped up in Jake’s arms, and when you got to the door, he paused so that you could slide the keycard through the handle and push it open.

As soon as he stepped inside, Jake pushed you up against the door. His hands guided your legs to wrap around his lithe waist and you felt him grind into you through both pairs of jeans, the friction delicious against your aching heat.

You pushed your tongue into his mouth, tasting the remains of his whiskey from before. He let out a quiet groan as you arched up against the door and pressed yourself flush to him. When you broke apart for air, you took his hat from your head, placing it back on his own for a moment as you rid yourself of your shirt.

“God, you look beautiful in my hat baby,” Jake said, his eyes roving over your face and chest, his hat casting a shadow over your eyes.

Before you could respond his lips met yours in a desperate kiss, Jake only pulling away occasionally to murmur, “Want to remember this view forever.”

You pulled back from him as his kisses moved down your neck, your head pressed into the door, “Take a picture, it will last longer.”

Jake stopped kissing you and pulled back, looking at you, his voice deeper than only a moment before when he finally spoke, “What did you just say?”

Your eyes met his, nothing but a challenge presented in your gaze, “I said, take a picture, it will last longer.”

Jake groaned, pulling you away from the door and walking towards the bed, “You’re tryin’ to kill me baby.”

He dropped you down on the bed, your body bouncing slightly. Jake pulled out his phone, and you let a sultry smile invade your face. Before he could take the picture, you reached down and flicked the button on your jeans open. You rolled the waist down, exposing the top of the panties that matched your bra for him to see.

Leaning back on one elbow, you brought your free hand up to hold the top of Jake’s hat, spreading your legs slightly, knees bent, your own boots on display for him. You watched him from beneath the brim of his hat, the shutter of the camera going off once before Jake threw his phone down on the bed and took his place between your legs.

“You’re too damn hot baby,” he said, picking up where he had stopped kissing your collarbones, making his way down your chest.

You moaned as he pulled one of your pert nipples into his mouth, sucking on it through the thin, lacy material of your bra. His hand came up, flicking over your other nipple a few times before gripping a handful of your breast, grinding his palm against your sensitive flesh.

Sliding your hands up under his jersey, you drug your nails up his sides, feeling goosebumps erupt over his skin. You trailed your fingers back down his ribs before working to get his jersey over his head. Jake helped you, pulling away from your chest for only a moment to rip the fabric off his head, throwing it to the floor.

You ran your hands over his pecs and down to the hair of his happy trail, scratching your nails through the sensitive area before moving your fingers further down, running them under the waistband of his jeans. While you attempted to unbuckle his belt without looking, Jake was doing his best to distract you.

He kissed down your stomach, pulling away from your hands, and running his stubble over your skin. You let out a quiet huff of frustration before his hands ran down the inside of your covered thighs. Sitting up on your elbows, you watched as he tugged your boots off, both of them dropping to the floor.

You helped him pull your jeans off and watched as he removed his own boots. Coming up to kneel on the bed, you pulled him to you by his belt buckle, undoing it before flicking the button of his jeans open and pulling the zipper down. Jake slid his jeans down his legs, leaving him in a pair of boxer briefs in front of you.

You leaned down and pressed a kiss to the tip of his still concealed erection and he let out a groan. You felt his hand through his hat, pressing your face more firmly to his underwear. Opening your mouth, you sucked on his tip through the fabric as he rocked his hips against you. The brim of his hat kept you from seeing his face, but the sounds that he was making led you to believe what you were doing felt quite good.

Jake suddenly pulled you up by your arms, “Need to taste you baby,” he said, pushing you down on the bed.

His hat fell off your head when you made contact with the mattress, but you didn’t care, because his hands were quickly pulling your panties down your legs. Jake kissed your thighs, driving you just the right amount of crazy.

“Jakey, I need-” you keened just as he pressed his open mouth to your mound, his tongue delving between your lips to flick up towards your clit. Your words were cut off by the guttural moan that left your mouth.

Jake flattened his tongue against your clit as he pressed two fingers into your heat. You grinded down on his face, tangling your hands in his hair, and riding it for all you were worth. The bed shook slightly and you opened your eyes, glancing down to see him pressing himself into the mattress, desperate for any friction. The sight caused you to clench around Jake’s fingers, your body hurtling to the edge. Just as you thought you were going to cum, he pulled away from you.

You let out a high pitched whine and looked up to Jake, nothing but lust written across your face and watched as he took another picture of you, your legs spread and your dripping center on display for him, his hat now sitting loosely on your head. His mouth and chin were covered in your sweet juices and you let out a moan as you watched his tongue flick out to lick some of it up.

“I believe you promised me a ride darlin’,” he said as he peeled off his underwear and moved up the bed to lay down beside you. You forced your trembling legs to cooperate, and you swung one over his hips as he settled with his back pressed up against the mountain of pillows on the bed.

Without pausing a moment, you settled yourself on top of him, grinding your dripping pussy down on his exposed erection.

Jake’s hips stuttered up into yours, “Jesus, baby. You’re gonna kill me.”

You let out a quiet laugh before grinding yourself down on him firmer than before, “You know what they say baby, save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

Jake groaned, leaning his head back on the pillows, “You can ride me any time darlin’.”

With a smirk fixed to your face, you brought your head down so that your lips were hovering just above his, “Any time? Wow. Don’t I feel special.”

“‘Course you’re special, you’re mine arnt‘cha?” he asked, a small smile on his face. A grunt escaped him as you crashed your lips to his, sucking his bottom one into your mouth for a heady kiss.

You lifted your hips off of him and reached down, lining him up with your entrance before sinking down on him in one quick motion, groaning at how full you felt. Jake’s hands tightened on your hips, holding you down on him as he felt your walls flutter and adjust to his size.

You reached across the bed, picking his hat back up and placing it atop your head. Leaning forward slightly, you kept one hand on his hat, ensuring it wouldn’t come off, and set the other on Jake’s chest, just over his heart.

“I’m yours baby,” you said, looking him in the eye as you pulled your hips away from his. His dick came almost all the way out of you before you dropped back down on him, finishing your statement on a moan, “All yours.”

Jake let out a groan as his hands worked to help guide your movements. His grip was tight and you could feel the bruises that you were going to have the next day.

As you settled into your rhythm, pulling up and rolling your hips on the way down, his dick hitting that spongy spot inside you on every thrust. Jake’s hands left your hips in favor of pulling your bra off. You glanced down when you felt his hands on your breasts, his fingers rolling your nipples between them, his eyes stuck on how they bounced with each thrust.

You threw your head back and let out a frustrated moan, trying to go faster, but your legs couldn’t keep up the pace, his wide hips making things difficult. Jake, seeming to know exactly what you needed, let go of your boobs. His hands found their way to your hips again, his firm grasp helping you obtain the speed you needed.

He shifted beneath you, and you let out a surprised gasp when his mouth closed around one nipple, his tongue flicking over it in time with your frantic thrusts.

“Jake…” you said, your voice sounding breathless and rough.

“What do you need baby?” he asked, pulling away from your chest slightly.

You whimpered as you dropped down on him, his dick going particularly deep, “More, need more,” you said, too far gone to get much else out.��

Jake stilled your hips before flipping you over and pressing your back into the pillows. He wrapped your thigh up and over his hip before pounding into you. One of his hands going down between your connected bodies to rub at your clit as the other grabbed your ass, pulling you tighter to him as he wrecked you. You let out a loud cry as you felt your orgasm approach again, your hands grappling for purchase against his chest.

“So good for me baby,” he whispered into your ear, his pace unrelenting, “So warm and tight around me, making me feel so good,” he grunted as his words made you clench around him, “Cum for me baby, give it to me.”

With that, your body flew off the ledge it had been perched on. A loud cry of Jake’s name left your mouth as you turned into a writhing mess beneath him. He continued to rub his thumb against your clit, prolonging your orgasm as he pounded into you.

“Look at you baby, so gone for me,” he grunted out, you heard a camera shutter over the sound of his hips smacking wetly against yours, but you didn’t care. You let out a whine as he kept rubbing at you, overstimulation beginning to take over.

“Come one baby give me one more,” he said, his voice rough and strained like he was holding himself back.

“Can’t,” you gasped out, shaking your head.

Jake put his head down by your ear, his voice commanding, “You can and you will.”

You let out an embarrassingly loud moan at his words before threading your fingers through his hair, pulling his lips down on yours forcefully.

Jake groaned into your mouth and two thrusts later, his hips came to a stop against yours. The warmth of his cum and the pulsing of his dick inside you was enough to push you over the edge again, a scream ripping itself from your throat.

As you came down from your high, you trailed your hands up and down Jake’s back. He let out a groan before lifting his head up from your shoulder, his eyes roving over your face.

“You okay darlin’?” he asked, concern crossing over his face.

You hummed, “Yes, I’m better than okay,” you replied, a sated smile on your face.

“Thank you,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.

Your mind whirred but you couldn’t settle on what he was thankful for, “For what?” you asked.

“The best birthday a guy could ask for,” he said, before pulling out of you and getting off the bed.

You shivered without the heat of his body, and you felt his cum start to leak out of you. Jake disappeared to the bathroom before you could answer, and he came back a moment later, a warm washcloth in his hand.

Once the two of you were cleaned up, and he was snuggled up against you in bed you found the right words to say to him.

“I love you, you know?” you asked him, “You don’t have to thank me for giving you the birthday you deserve.”

“I love you too,” he said quietly, burying his head into your shoulder before whispering another quiet, “Thank you.”

You fell asleep that night with a smile on your face, your man pressed up against your back.

—

The next morning came quickly, and the two of you were packing to leave the hotel when you heard a clatter come from the bathroom before Jake cussed.

“Fuck,” he said, his voice raised.

“You okay in there cowboy?” you called, looking through the doorway rather concerned.

He nodded, stooping to pick up his phone from the floor, “Yeah, just forgot I took a few pictures of you last night.”

“They any good?” you asked, raising one brow to look at him.

A smile broke over his face, “Darlin’, they’re enough to keep me going for this next deployment.”

You took the phone from his hand, scrolling through the pictures he had taken the night before. Letting out a quiet humm, you handed it back to him. Bringing your hand down to the front of his jeans, you cupped him gently before saying, “It looks like they’re enough to keep you going while you’re home too, sailor.”

Planting a kiss on his lips, you turned and walked back toward your suitcase. Jake’s hand caught your own, pulling you back to him. With another firm kiss planted on your lips, and your hips trapped against the sink, you let out a disgruntled grunt.

“Jacob Seresin, we are not having sex again or we will miss out flight!” you chastised him before kissing him one more time. A devious smile was fixed on your face as you walked back into the room.

“You’re such a tease,” he called back, as he grabbed his toiletry bag and flicked the light out in the bathroom.

You laughed as you took his bag from him, feeling his strong arms wrap around you as you placed the small bag in your shared suitcase, “Yes, but I’m your tease.”

Jake hummed, his lips pressed to your shoulder. You broke the moment with a loud squeal as he tickled your sides, “I suppose that’s true.”

“Jacob Seresin!” you shrieked, “Stop!”

“No can do sweets,” he answered, doubling down on your ticklish ribs, “We have a whole two minutes until the Uber gets here and I am using them wisely.”

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strawbs-screaming · 7 months

Text

☆ how the boxers were as children ☆

Hey besties, sorry for dissapearing i was busy decaying, enjoy my cringe ass writing

Glass Joe

- Really sleepy & an edgelord, he was the kid that had hair covering the side of his face in middle school

- his parents always said that he wouldnt really be able to take up boxing due to him being a natural coward, jokes on them Joe isnt scared to get hurt (physically)

- loved reading old writing, especially gothic literature, he has a soft spot for dark writing

- wrote cringy edgy poems about every crush he had, his parents sometimes pull them out to torment him

- tried to start his own band, failed miserably

- still attached to his edgelord phase very much

- if he was a teen during the 2000-2010's he def would have a edgy wolf oc and a Deviantart account

Von Kaiser

- sickly victorian child + little german boy hybrid

- his parents always spoke with permission so he also started copying them, leading to him always interrupting people by saying "can i ask something?"

- had that one little german boy outfit, along with the huge ass lollipop and dumb hat, anytime someone pulls out his childhood pictures he prays they dont whip out those photos or he will get bullied recklessly

- NEVER EVER cursed until the wonderful age of 15 when he yelled out the word "fuck" after dropping a wrench on his foot, his dad wasnt even upset he was more concerned because holy fuck his child dropped a wrench on their foot

- got sick really often, he was out here being asked to be taken out into the garden one last time before you all posers

Disco Kid

- that one kid who had a really cool dad that let him do anything as long as he didnt blow up the house

- Really creative, writing up stories with pictures, his grammar wasnt really the best (along with his writing) so his parents had to read "the addventours off the brince" and hold in their laugh

- He was the kid who performed an entire ass dance choreography to get your parents to accept the sleepover invite

- got introduced to Disco music by his dad, got obsessed with it instantly and started dancing everywhere

King Hippo

- ate glue

- never spoke with anyone, Just beat up anyone picking on him and no one messed with him ever since

- people just gave him paper to eat, fresh with colored pencils

- liked to play make believe with his plushies

Piston Hondo

- He let you copy off his homework, i think that tells you enough

- everyone only recognized him for being a smart ass, not being creative and that really upset him

- played chess a whole lot, joined tournaments and won some medals

- academic burnout hit him like a train

- for a while, art and writing was his only escape from stress & pressure, he journaled about his feelings and drew his soul out, due to this he struggled to express his feelings without words

Bear Hugger

- chased everyone around with a spider then ate it, he was so evil for what

- never actually went to school, his parents lived out in the woods and homeschooled him since no one likes walking 2-3 hours straight just to suffer in a seat

- He always had a interest in animals, him and mrs bear go are childhood friends, mrs bear met him when she was a cub, due to this he got spared by mrs bears mom and suddenly had a 2nd mom, once his family realized that their son got adopted by a bear, they kindly let the bears in and treated it like it was normal

- loved fishing with mrs bear, he taught her how to use a rod and she taught him how to catch fish with his bare hands

Great Tiger

- so called "self sufficient" When he was just used to being alone and kinda accepted the fact he'll never have proper friends

- created the most batshit insane scenarios with his clones that would make the average hollywood movie maker shed tears, these gems include: divorce, murder, crime, assault and tea parties

- talked to himself a whole lot to the point where his parents took him to a therapist

- never really made friends, Just made himself his own friend

Don Flamenco

- oh no.

- his dad basically hated him, insulted him a whole lot, made fun of him, literally just made him insecure, when he got the opportunity to escape his dad by boxing, he took it without hesitation and got out of there

- was never really home, he was always out with friends to avoid his dad back at the house

- emotional stability? Who needs that when you can ignore your problems?

- people pleaser no matter what he says

Aran Ryan

- greasy ass bitch

- his parents didnt teach him shit, you think tigers parents didnt care about him? They'll look like helicopter parents next to them when they see what aran has going on

- had bad hygiene, only learned to shower and take care of himself in the 5th grade, thanks to that and his name, my boy got bullied and developed his behavior to defend himself from people

- Always ran from school & home, he had a hide out from away from home and a bit close to school to escape whenever he had the chance, he always dissapeared for a few weeks (sometimes months) and nobody really went looking for him, either from knowing he'll return sometime or they just dont care enough

Soda Popinski

- lonely, him and tiger are the difference between feeling lonely vs being alone, he doesnt handle loneliness well

- grew up with his grandpa & his stories, always loved listening to them and copied him whenever he wanted to tell a story

- never had a proper social life due to having to take care of his grandpa + him getting concerned about soda whenever he was out for too long

- spent most of his time crying from loneliness, away from him

Bald Bull

- precious!!! Was really shy and had a rounder face that everyone in his family pinched like crazy

- extremely sensitive & emotional (he still is hes just bottling it up shh)

- stuttered a lot, think about that one "have you ever had a dream you could you can't you would you you could be anything" kid

- was really short and just shot up one day

- scaredy cat, could be scared from anything, including: bugs, darkness, thunder, needles, sharp stuff, blood, death and alcohol (he also still gets scared easily but shh shut up)

- Always snored in his sleep, inherited it from his dad

Super Macho Man

- obsessed with sharks, dinosaurs, trucks and cars, basically got obsessed with anything he found cool

- his parents spoiled the living fuck out of him, no dime left unspent on him, no quarter spared

- Always lied about having something at the playground, sure Macho i trust the fact that you have "every dinosaurs teeth" 100% never doubted you for a second

- his parents love language was money so it got passed down to him, they were just throwing money at him and fucking off

Mr Sandman

- oldest child in his family, has 4 siblings and loves them all very much, had to help his mom & dad take care of them since they were a handful

- started boxing early so he was never in school that often unless it was 99% neccessary

- slept a lot thanks to him being tired constantly from rushing around

- knows how to do hair & make up from his younger sister

#punch out #headcanon #punch out wii #punch out headcanons #don flamenco #glass joe #piston hondo #aran ryan #bald bull #great tiger #this was so fun to make yay yay yippee #sorry for dissapearing i was mentally going downhill #i am drained eughshhs

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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year

Text

Built for Love Part 2 (MBJ x Famous Black OC)

Warning: angstttttt

A/n: Enjoy! This hasn't been edited thoroughly so apologies in advance for typos!

Word Count: 3.5k

Charlotte’s chest heaved lightly as she finished her run, her music blaring loudly in her headphones. She savored the ache in her muscles, the painful stitch in her side that had been there since mile 3, the hard concrete slamming into her feet with every step, the brutal cold wind hitting her face.

She almost did not want to stop when she rounded the corner to her temporary apartment building. However, she had exceeded her usual distance so she knew she needed to. However, she was shocked at what she found waiting at her door.

Her eyes grew wide as she saw Michael standing outside her apartment building, coffee and a brown bag gripped in his gloved hands.

“M-Michael?” She called, catching his attention. Her breaths and words were labored as she jogged over to him. “W-hat… are you… doing here?”

“Damn girl, you training to be a boxer too or trying to outrun something? Looks like you’re about to drop dead.”

She laughed, coughing lightly. “I f-feel like it. Ran six miles.”

His eyes bugged out of his head. “That’s insane.”

She shrugged and laughed lightly, “You might be right about that… but you didn’t come all the way over here to judge me for my running habits. What’s up?”

He nodded. “Ah. right. I come bearing your favorites… your favorite bacon, egg and cheese bagel from down the street and a chai with one shot of espresso and an extra pump of chai.” He raised the bag and coffee in his hands with his perfect award-winning boyish grin that made her want to go weak in the knees.

“Well done, Mr. Jordan.” She could not hide the hint of surprise in her voice as she took the warm drink out of the holder and took a sip, warmth spreading through her body. “It is quite literally perfect. How’d you figure out my chai order?”

He laughed. “You have one like every single morning.”

“Touche. J-just didn't realize you noticed,” she smiled. She gestured toward the door. “Wanna get out of the cold?”

At his nods, she led him inside and up the stairs to her apartment. She opened the door and allowed him inside.

“Let me just throw on a different top? This one is drenched. Give me a sec.” She started to take off the thick sweatshirt she had on and ran back to her room, leaving Michael alone in her kitchen.

He glanced around, his first time in her apartment. The decor was warm, soft pinks and golds accented her neutral standard furniture throughout her living space. He spied a couple family photos littered across the space, he imagined to make the space feel more like home. She clearly took time to make the temporary space feel like a home. He took note of two bouquets of calla lilies on her counter and living room table.

“Alright, sorry about that. I sweat like crazy when I run… it is pretty gross,” she muttered as she walked over to her counter and grabbed a few plates for them.

“I didn’t know you were a runner.”

“Yea, I run a couple miles every morning.”

“Oh nice. You do marathons too?”

She shook her head and chuckled, “Nope. Just to decompress. When I moved out to LA, my thera- friend recommended I get a hobby. My brother’s the marathon runner so he introduced me to his favorite running trails. Got me out of bed and out of my own head honestly.”

She walked over to her fridge. With her back turned, she could not see the way Michael’s eyes filled with lust as he took in her perfect ass and figure in her leggings and crop top.

There were moments were he wondered if the young woman in front of him had magical powers. Her looks and talents were other worldly in his view, no woman even looked remotely attractive to him since she walked into that room for their chemistry test. However, it was not just lust. He craved her, craved everything about her, noticed everything about her. There was not a subject in his mind that did not somehow drift back to her. She consumed his very being in such a way that it could only be witchcraft… or something else he had never felt before. If this was love, part of him feared it, feared how much power she already held in his life and did not even know it.

“Nice… I gotta get a couple miles in tomorrow, keep up the training. Why don’t we run together?”

“I dunno… not sure you’ll be able to keep up,” she teased, winking at him as she handed him a water bottle.

“Ha. ha. ha. We’ll see whose talking shit tomorrow.”

She settled next to him, unwrapping her breakfast sandwich and taking a bite. She did a small happy dance as the flavors hit her taste buds.

“I think I’m gonna miss this the most when it’s all said and done,” she mused as they ate. “And not that I’m not insanely appreciative of the breakfast and latte delivery, what made you stop by?”

She studied his profile for a moment. This was the first time they spent real alone time together since the kiss over the weekend. She had avoided him like the plague unless they were actively working on a scene. She could tell he often wanted to speak to her. He was the type to wear his emotions plainly on his face. However, she chose to remain oblivious and used any excuse to avoid being alone with him. She knew it was childish… and unfair. But she did not know what to say to him.

She knew her heart’s desires. She wanted him in every possible way she could have him. But her head, the voice of reason that still questioned her gut and intuition, threw water and doubt on the raging flames of her desires. And her body, trapped between her present and constant yearnings for him and the traumas of the past, rode the fence like a devil’s advocate. One minute, her body craved him like a dying dehydrated woman craves water. But the next, she repelled him as all of her past shit haunted her like a menacing ghost. Each part of her played an intense and exhausting game of tug-a-war and none of them were winning.

And she hated it. But she knew she did not have anything better to give him.

“You caught me. I was hoping your favorite breakfast would be a sort of olive branch? I didn’t want to bring it up on set cause you know, we’re working and I don’t want to make it uncomfortable for you. But I know you’ve been avoiding me and I just want to clear the air so we can be good again.”

Charlotte nervously chuckled, “Nah I haven’t.” He raised an eyebrow causing her to bow her head. “Alright… maybe I have. I-I just feel r-really embarrassed by the other night. C-coming on to you like that. Got caught up in the character I guess. I mean,” she cleared her throat, eyeing him nervously. “W-we are just friends, right?”

Michael studied her for a moment, his eyes taking in the nervous energy that immediately settled around the young woman. Her whole body seemed to fidget as she waited for his response, she chewed her lip, her fingers pulled at a loose thread in her top, and her leg jiggled up and down against her bar stool. He could physically see the tension building throughout her shoulders.

He wanted to push, let her know that he did not want her apologizes or embarrassment. He wanted to know her true feelings for him and why she kept him at bay. However, something stopped him. While he was not completely certain of her feelings, he was certain of one thing: her walls and guard were up. And there was no hope of forcing them down. She would have to let them down and let him in when she was ready. And for him, she was more than worth the wait.

His head fell a bit as he opted for a response that was not his true feelings but satisfied what she needed to hear. “No apologies, seriously. We wouldn’t be the first folks to you know… get caught up in the moment. All good seriously. I j-just wanted to say the same. We cool?”

Charlotte nodded, an odd wave of relief and sadness crashing over her. This was what she wanted right? What she pushed for? So why did it still feel so… shitty?

“Y-yea we’re good. How could I have beef with someone who brings me a perfect chai and my favorite breakfast??” She nudged him lightly with her shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Anytime. Aight. I gotta go, gotta get to set in half an hour. Just wanted to drop off breakfast and check in. Talk later?”

She nodded, standing to walk him to her door. They shared a brief hug before he crossed over the threshold of her apartment.

“Yep, talk later. Thanks again for the breakfast delivery.”

He nodded, offering her a smile. “Enjoy your day off, Els.”

She waved at him and watched his back retreat for a moment before she closed her door. She slumped against it and glanced at her half eaten sandwich and drink, another example of his attentiveness and kindness. This only made her like him even more.

“This man… gonna be the fuckin’ death of me,” she muttered to herself before returning to finish her breakfast.

***

3 weeks later

“You good?”

Michael’s voice filled Charlotte’s ears as she flopped down next to him on a comfy couch in the corner. Her cup was filled with a margarita, she was not ashamed to admit she had lost count of the amount by this point. But she did not care. She survived her first movie and they were enjoying the official wrap party for the film. She deserved a night of liquor and good times.

“Y-yea, yea,” she leaned over and yelled into his ear. “My feet are just killing me in these boots.” She gestured to the very fashionable but not functional deep purple velvet thigh highs she was supporting with a black mini dress.

Michael’s eyes trailed the smooth chestnut skin on display between the hem of her dress and the top of her boots. He was nearly rendered speechless when she walked through the door.

“No pain, no gain, right?”

She nodded and raised her glass, clinking against his. She slumped back into the seat, their bodies inching closer and closer together as they sat. Neither of them seemed to even notice, they just drifted together as if that was the only logical choice, the only thing their bodies could naturally do.

Charlotte was happy filming was over but it meant she would not have a reason to spend time with Michael each day. And she could not deny that that knowledge made her a bit sad. Despite the kiss snafu, they had grown extremely close over the last three months. They had started running together, the friendly competition forcing them both to train harder; they hung out when they had evenings off, watching movies in Michael's apartment; and they hung out nonstop on set. He was a regular staple in her life and all of that would be gone. She knew she needed distance to put these feelings behind her but she was not ready to say goodbye just yet.

Charlotte’s shoulders swayed gently to the music, her eyes watching many in the cast and crew who were out on the dance floor.

Michael watched her before taking a last swig from his drink and standing up.

“One last dance before we put Bianca and Adonis to rest?” He held out his hand. She knew she should say no. This was merely courting bad decisions.

She knew he could never see her the way she saw him. He deserved someone far better than her. However, she could not deny the part of her that wanted to be close to him physically and emotionally, certainly closer than they were at this moment. A decision that would likely lead her to ruin, she was sure, but the alcohol coursing through her system pushed the hesitations from her mind. For the first time in a long time, Charlotte chose to give in to her true desires, give in to her heart. And her heart wanted to be in his arms, even if it was fleeting.

She stood up and slid her hand into his, a smirk on her face as she took in the surprised look on his. It was clear he was expecting her to say no or at least hesitate. But she did neither.

She discarded her drink on their table and followed him out to the crowd, the song switching to a slower selection. That did nothing to stop either of them, Michael turning her around so her back was to him. His hands gripped her hips as she slow grinned into him, both of them allowing the music to guide their movements.

Charlotte pushed all her inhibitions and fears out of her mind as she enjoyed the feeling of his body on hers. And enjoyed it for the first time as herself - not a fictional woman in love his character. This was as intimate and close as she had been with any man in years. She enjoyed the way his hand gripped her skin, the way the other trailed up and down the exposed skin of her thigh sensually, the feeling of his broad chest against her back.

For both of them, this was perfection. Neither one of them cared or noticed the cast and crew ogling their intimate moment. The rest of the world seemed to disappear and fade, it was just the two of them in their own little world.

Their dancing only stopped as Michael used his grip to turn her around so she faced him. His hand went to the small of her back as he held her flush against his chest. Charlotte almost wanted to look away as she took in the intensity in his eyes. She could see the lust, his desires for her clear as day. But they were mixed with something else, something she could not quite place.

Desire and yearning passed between them as they stared at each other in the dim club. Their bodies left no space for God or any other deity to fit between them. Michael’s hand cupped her face, holding her gaze to his, as he lowered his lips to hers.

“Michael…” she whimpered. Whether it was intended to urge him to pause or beckon him forward, he did not know and quite frankly, neither did she.

However, when their lips met, she had no intention of telling him to stop. It was somehow both everything and nothing like she remembered. Still perfect, still gentle but there was a more intense hunger to it. As if three months of feelings buried and avoided were finally surfacing for them both and they were trying to cram all of it into one kiss. As if this one kiss could say everything that needed to be said.

She savored every millisecond that his lips were on hers, that his hands were on her body, and that she felt the intimacy she had been deprived of for far too many years.

When they finally broke apart, Charlotte felt flustered and out of breath. She stared at him for a moment before reality set in for her and all those hesitations came rushing back.

His thumb caressed her cheek as he whispered in her ear. “It’s not the characters for me, Els. It never was… I want you.”

Her body stilled as she took in his words. His words sent her inebriated and flustered mind into an immediate tailspin, spinning out of control as all those hesitations she pushed aside resurfaced. And though, all she wanted to say was “I want you too,” the words were lodged in her throat. Her own doubts not allowing them to surface. She had fallen into the sea of him but she did not feel worthy of such gentle waters. And every thought circulating through her mind seemed to confirm that feeling.

He’s lying, a harsh voice entered her brain. He can’t mean that. You’re just a cheap score for him, another notch in his belt.

He’ll toss you aside like trash the moment he’s done with you.

As if anyone would actually want you.

Charlotte pushed against his chest, creating space between the two of them as she rapidly shook her head.

“U-Um… I a-am… I’m so sorry. I gotta go.” Her words were rushed and flustered as she ran out of the crowded club, weaving and pushing her way through the crowd to get out.

Her hand pressed into her chest as it started to tighten as if she was about to have a panic attack. Her breathing was labored as she finally found a random door and pushed her way outside, the cold Philly air hitting her.

She leaned against the wall of a dim alley, her chest heaving as she tried to calm herself down. She was so wrapped up in her own head that she did not hear the door open until he started calling her name.

“Els! Els!”

She immediately tried to walk away from him until she heard him again.

“CHARLOTTE! Stop walkin’!” He demanded, stopping her in her tracks.

She turned around, an exasperated and pained look painted on her face. “What??”

“You gotta level with me, Charlotte. Tell me what’s wrong? Is it somethin’ I did o-or said?? Because you can’t experience what we just did,” he gestured back toward the party, which was still in full swing, “And tell me that there is nothing between us! O-or that is just our characters or some shit. Be honest with me. What's goin' on?”

Charlotte paced as he spoke, her hand running through her faux locs as she tried to calm her mind enough to speak to him. However, she knew she could not give him the answers he sought, not in this drunken and emotional state.

“I-I just can’t do this, Michael.” Her hand waved between the two of them. “So p-please j-just drop it!”

“W-why can’t you do it?? What I feel when I’m with you,” he offered, closing the distance between them and causing Charlotte to back up against the wall. “Is unlike anything else I’ve experienced in my entire life. Look me in my eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same. Say it and I’ll walk away, I swear. And I’ll never bring it up again. But you need to say it, Charlotte. You need to tell me you don't want me.”

Charlotte’s brown eyes met his and she tried, tried to force the words she so desperately needed to say from her soul but she could not. Because those words would be a lie. She needed him like her body needed air to breath. But she also could not bring herself to say that either. Both roads led her to destinations her soul was simply not ready for, lead her to potential heartbreak she could not handle again. And so her vocal cords just seemed to refuse to work.

“I-I…” she struggled. “S-stop doing this to me,” she whispered. “Please, I-I can’t take it.”

He scoffed, his frustration with the small woman before him getting the better of him.

“Doing what? Loving you? W-wanting to be with you??”

Her eyes grew wide as the word ‘love’ hit her like a train.

“That! Y-You don’t l-love me! You c-can’t! A-and you shouldn’t. I-I’m doing you a favor.” she nodded to herself as if she were convincing herself and him. “I d-don’t d-deserve you.” Her voice grew small as all of his words came back to haunt her. It did not feel as though two years had passed. It felt as if he was standing right beside her still whispering the same things in her ear.

She could hear his voice taunting her, calling her worthless, telling her that no one could ever love someone like her and that they would discard her the moment they realized what she truly was. His refrains reminding her that she did not deserve love rang loudly in her ears, drowning out any and everything Michael said to her.

A flash of pain crossed Michael’s face as he took in her words. How could she think that? Or say that about herself? He could visibly see her folding in on herself, her guards raising higher and higher than he could hope to climb in one night.

“Els… look at me, please,”she heard the desperation in his voice, this was the most vulnerable she had ever heard him. However, her ironclad resolve would not allow her to lift her eyes from the ground. She had to do this, for both of their sakes.

“Y-You d-deserve better t-than me. Y-You don’t want me,” she whispered, her voice sounding lifeless and robotic as if she were regurgitating words someone else supplied to her, repeating a script she barely believed herself but had to sell anyway.

Michael felt his heart splinter a bit. He supposed it truly was love because no woman had broken his heart quite like this either. His head fell as an air of defeat settled around him.

“You’re breakin’ my heart, Els,” he whispered to her before taking several steps back from her.

She sniffled and hastily wiped a stray tear that started to fall down her face.

“I-I’m protecting mine. No one else is going to,” she whispered back. “Goodbye, M-Michael,” her voice broke ever so slightly as she choked back a sob. She tore herself away from the wall and rushed away from him and a dream she knew could never be a reality.

Before she knew it, she found herself at her front door. The beautiful bouquet of flowers she found at her doorstep could not even raise her spirits or stop the tears that were starting to fall. She picked them up off the floor and fumbled with her key until she was inside her apartment.

She leaned against the counter, her hands trembling as she picked up the card nestled between a large bouquet of white roses and white calla lilies, her favorite flower.

A tear fell as she immediately guessed who they were likely from.

“Fucking perfect timing,” she muttered as she pulled the card out of its small envelope and read it silently.

Els,

Thank you for being my better half for the last three months. Whether it’s loving a flawed boxer or wine and movie nights on the couch - on screen and off, you’re the best partner I could ever have. First movie down… I know there are many more together to go.

Love,

Bakari

She read it a couple more times, her heart slowly shattering piece by piece as a wave of sobs hit her. She leaned into her counter as she sobbed, her head falling into her hands.

As she sobbed, she could not help but replay her last conversation and kiss with Michael over and over again. A small voice kept telling her she did the right thing. However, all she felt as she finally drifted off to sleep was regret.

Cold and lonely regret.

Part 3

Tag List: @certifiedlesbianbaddie @bangtanxmegan @reelwriter19 @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @msniaimani @hi888888sworld @lynaye1993

A/N: ummm… don't hate me!! lol

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