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#I messed with the images the best I could but I’m still not sure they formatted properly… oh well. Tap for the full thing!
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HAL Laboratory really enjoys their attack moveset symbolism, huh?
Just to preface this, major spoilers for the ending of Magolor Epilogue below the cut!
A week or so back, while playing Kirby’s Return to Dreamland Deluxe, I had finally beaten Magolor and (perhaps against my better judgment) proceeded to play through the entirety of the Magolor Epilogue gamemode in one sitting. But hey, it paid off, as the revelation of the Master Crown was INCREDIBLE and the ending was sweet. Though, during that fight against the Master Crown, a very particular attack stood out to me the moment I saw it. From there, I began to notice more and more little details, and thus, I think that the Master Crown and Marx are more connected than we thought.
The attack I’m talking about, of course, is the one where it drops small seed-shaped gems and sprouts twisted vines to try and impale you. Sound familiar?
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As far as I can recall, these two are the only ones to have an attack like this. Now, as mentioned by the title, Kirby bosses are very often hinted to have some sort of a connection just through attack patterns. The Soul bosses for instance, with their movesets sampled from each other. 
Soul bosses… hey, didn’t Void Termina also share an attack with Marx?
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And, didn’t Void Termina summon a replica of the Master Crown for one of its own attacks?
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Also, partially unrelated, but in the image above, the wings on the crown are that of a dragon, but during the Master Crown’s fight in Magolor Epilogue they appear to be more bird-like. Just something I thought was a little interesting.
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Moving on, after the vine attack cued me in, I began to pick up on some other details. Another big one is the Master Crown’s WINGS. During the attack where it shoots sharp leaves at you, it rapidly changes color. Much like our favorite Cosmic Jester.
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Hm, now that I mention it, while his didn’t change color, Void Termina’s wings share a resemblance to Marx’s with their geometric pattern, too. But, I suppose that’s old news.
Another little thing I noticed was the shape of the leaves that the Master Crown shoots out. I know, this might be a bit of a stretch, but they’re shaped like spades. Much like the tip of a certain someone’s wings.
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Speaking of those wings, I think that just in general they share a resemblance to Marx’s. Something about the way they’re shaped…
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Not to mention, of course, how both are golden (though his Smash Brothers render is… less so). 
Speaking of those wings again, the offshoots of the wing branch strike me as interesting as well. The way they curl… almost reminds me of something else.
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The Marx Soul amulet! Not only that, but the shape is similar to Marx Soul’s alulas(?) as well! 
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I suppose these two were always connected in some form (Marx is connected to Galactic Nova, Galactic Nova is connected to the Ancients, the Ancients are connected to the Master Crown…) but to finally see an actual clear relation between them is very nice! With just how many things this one jester is linked to, I wouldn’t be surprised if the games were building up to something with him… But that’s just wishful thinking!
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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months
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just gonna put this here while its fresh in my mind but since lando has been wildin and wont stfu about OF... what if reader does OF 😏 faceless and lando makes a cameo once in a while😵‍💫😵‍💫 OKAY BYE WHY IS HE LIKE THIS LATELY
Your Biggest Fan || Ln4
Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, masturbating, only fans WC: 1.3k
One || Two || SMAU || Three
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You were a solo act, that was your choice. Everyone who subscribed to your account knew the deal despite offers from some very big names in the industry - you were happy on your own - you couldn’t risk getting caught. Your parents would surely disown you, but you liked the danger that came with your side hustle. 
You could still remember the day he subscribed, top tier no less. The username was generic and he kept his camera turned off but that wasn’t unusual - you preferred to keep your face hidden too. A selection of toys lay across your bed and he hummed indecisively while he internally debated which one to watch you play with this time.
“If I was there, I know what I would do,” he mused, his voice dropping in a way that had your stomach flipping.
You settled amongst the pile of pillows surrounding you, keeping your face above the view of the camera, and teased your nipples while you patiently waited for his choice. “Yeah, what would you do to me?”
Your touch ran further down your body and you spread your legs for him. His breathing changed to slower, deeper intakes and you wished he had his camera on so you could see the effect you had on him. 
“Fuck, I would fill you so good, babygirl,” he groaned. “I would make you cum harder than any of those toys can. You don’t even have one big enough to stretch you like I could.”
Your pussy clenched at the threat and you grabbed the biggest dildo from the pile, running the tip through your slit. You moaned as you pressed it to your entrance and it slowly slid home, filling you completely as you pumped it all the way to the base. “This one stretches me pretty good, big boy.”
“Not as good as I could.”
“Brave words for someone who can’t prove it,” you dared. 
There was some shuffling before his camera lit up and half of your screen filled with a toned stomach, muscled thighs and a dick that put your toy to shame. You sat up straighter, wanting a closer look and salivated at the way he stroked himself, his thumb and fingers not even touching because of the girth.
“Fuck me,” you exhaled longingly.
“Don’t tempt me, babygirl.” He dragged his thumb through the bead of precum and his hand disappeared from view as he licked it clean, something you were completely jealous of. “Now turn around, I want to see you fuck yourself and pretend it’s me.”
You did as you were told, more than eager now that you had the image to use. You got on your hands and knees, reaching between your legs to pump the dildo in time to his strokes, moaning in unison at the sight. Wanting to give him the best show, you shimmied back so he had the best view of the silicone cock stretching your pussy.
“That’s it, come to daddy.” His filthy words surrounded you and your back arched as you fucked yourself for him. You were nearing your orgasm and the sight of his cum spilling over his fist and abs threw you into oblivion. His urging kept you going, even when your orgasm tried to squeeze the toy from your pussy, you kept stuffing it back in until the pressure grew too much and you fell panting to the bed, the blanket wet from the fluid that had gushed from you.
“Holy shit, babygirl, that was fucking amazing,” he praised as you struggled to catch your breath. “Fuck, I have to go. Same time next week?”
“Only if you have your camera on again, big boy,” you half joked, half wishing he would.
“For you, babygirl, of course,” he chuckled and wiped up his mess with a green and white shirt you were sure you had seen the logo for before. “I’m your biggest fan, I would do anything you said.”
“I’ll have to remember that, big boy. See you next week.”
You ended the feed and closed the site down for the night before cleaning up the toys and changing your bed sheets. You had never squirted like you had with L404 and you briefly wondered if you should invest in some waterproof bedding. 
It was late by the time you had showered and settled back into the fresh sheets but you weren’t able to sleep. With nothing better to do, you logged into Twitch and browsed the Just Chatting category for some white noise, eventually coming across a streamer with nearly 20k fellow viewers.
You were a little disappointed to see it wasn’t Just Chatting but playing Fortnite and you nearly left the stream. You weren’t interested in trying to sleep to the sound of gunfire. Before you could exit, you heard the voice. It was one you were intimate with, one that sent goosebumps prickling over your skin.
“Come to daddy,” Lando, that was his name, said. He laughed with his friends he was playing the game with and they joked while oblivious to the epiphany you were having. “Ohhh, doggy man.”
The handsome man in the tiny square of your screen was L404, your biggest fan. 
Hey big boy, you sent to the chat and watched it get swamped by the hundreds of other comments. 
“Ha, mate, someone called you big boy.”
Lando’s head snapped away from the game and he was quickly shot but he didn’t care as he scrolled through the chat to find your username. It was different enough that it wouldn’t be linked to your Only Fans but had enough similarities that he recognised the name. “Shit, I gotta go. Something’s come up.”
He logged off without a goodbye and the comments blew out with disappointment and questions.
Suddenly, your email pinged with a new message: L404 was requesting another private chat. 
“Hey big boy,” you answered as you sat up in bed, grateful you were wearing a cute lace babydoll nightie. “Back so soon?”
His camera was off but now that you had seen his face you could only imagine the confusion on it.  “Uh, did you…what you saw…did you…” 
You giggled at the loss of his confidence, such a stark change from how he was an hour ago. “You’ll have to finish your question for me to answer, Lando.”
“Fuck.” His camera came on and you had a much larger picture of him. He wasn’t just handsome, he was gorgeous. You desperately wanted to run your hands through his curls and tug on them, maybe while they were between your legs. “No one can know, please, it will ruin my career.”
Taking a deep breath, you tipped the camera back and looked him in the eyes. Realisation dawned on his face and his lips parted in shock. “Guess we both know each other’s secret now.”
“You…you’re…”
“Yup, that’s me.” Like most rich families, your parents had moved to Monaco for the tax haven it provided and you had fallen in love with the province too, opting to buy your own place in the city when you left home.
“So…” You bit your lip as the idea danced on your tongue and Lando remained in a state of shock. “I remember someone threatening to stretch a certain part of me…”
Lando swallowed deeply before licking his dry lips. “On camera?”
It was your turn to think before nodding. “If you’re up for it, I can make an exception to the rule. We might need to practice a few times, you know, compatibility wise.”
He nodded, the thought growing more and more interesting and he palmed his erection beneath the desk. “Practice sounds good. Tonight?”
The idea of sleep was long gone and your nipples were clearly visible through the lace, the stiff peaks begging for attention. “Come on then, big boy,” you teased as you sent him your address. “I’ll see you soon.”
Click here for part two.
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rainylana · 1 year
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“Hush.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: you find porn under eddie’s bed.
warnings: smut, insecure reader, innocent reader, porno magazine, blowjob, daddy kink towards the end, spanking, fingering, fluff, edging, dirty talk, decrophylia, the causal dominance in this will kill you. i’m in love with this one omg i got so horny writing it help. please let me know what you think!!
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Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to snoop through his stuff, but you knew damn well he looked through yours every chance he got. He was in the shower, and you were freely looking through his drawers, not looking for anything particular. You were just bored. He’d asked if you wanted to join him, and you had just blushed deeply, making him laugh before he tugged off his shirt.
He really needed to deep clean his room, but you knew he wouldn’t. He hated cleaning, hated organizing. Every surface was covered in dust and spider webs decorated the corners. Trash littered the dressers with old pop bottles. You knew he wouldn’t do it, so you figured you’d have to.
Sighing, you started picking up some of his clothes off the floor to put in his dingy hamper, your bare feet sinking into the carpet with every step. You could hear him humming in the shower, his voice echoing off the shower walls. You were able to throw away most of his trash and make his bed, even though you were going to mess it up soon, anyways. You dusted a few tables and even lite a candle. There were a few boxes on the floor that you scooted off to the side. After having nowhere to put them, you pushed them to the bed.
A magazine was peaking out underneath his mattress, and you curiously took it in your hands, eyes widening at the cover. Your face blushed deeply, quickly looking to make sure Eddie hadn’t suddenly appeared back in the room. There was a woman on the cover, a very attractive one that immediately made you self conscious. You started flipping through it, lips parting in shock at the graphic images on the paper.
The first page, a woman tied up. She was being flogged by a man in a mask. The second, another model handcuffed and gagged on a bench. Each page was filled with vile images, yet they made your belly flip flop. Your face burned shamefully. Just as quickly as you had picked it up, you placed it back in its original hiding spot. It wasn’t any of your business.
Yet, you couldn’t seem to force yourself to clean anymore. You sat on the bed, biting your thumbnail anxiously. You suddenly felt very insecure. See, you were a quiet girl. You had friends, but not many. You liked your privacy and alone time. You had many doubts about yourself and Eddie knew it. He tried to help you as best as he could, assure you daily that you were beautiful, his best girl, but you had a talent for letting negative thoughts get the best of you.
“Why the long face?” Eddie announced himself, causing you to jump in your seat. You hadn’t noticed him come out.
“Oh- nothing.” You shook your head, trying to force a smile as you admired his body, nothing but a white towel around his waist. “I cleaned for you.”
“I can see that.” He laughed, opening his closet to find a pair of boxers, dropping his towel to the floor. “If you were that bored, baby, I told ya you could’ve joined me.”
You blushed again, fiddling with your fingers. You were having trouble forgetting the magazine, the women you saw. Of course, you knew they didn’t look like that in real life, but still, the insecurities flooded in. You were new to sex. You and Eddie hadn’t been dating all that long yet, only about six or seven months. Sex was obviously great, but the magazine made you question if he wanted more with you, if he wasn’t satisfied.
“What’s wrong?” Eddie shook the towel against his hair, now clad in black boxers that showed off his prominent bulge.
“Nothing.” You smiled softly, running a hand through your hair. You hated that your eyes started to prickle.
He threw the towel on the floor, watching you questionably. “You look like you’re getting ready to cry.”
“No, I’m fine.” You turned your back, picking at the skin around your fingers. “Just sleepy.”
“You sure?” He asked, coming to sit down beside you. He frowned when your eyes were full of tears. “Baby, what’s wrong?”
“I’m okay.” You blinked heavily, waving your hand.
“No, you’re not. You’re crying.” He grabbed your knee, dipping down so he could see your face. “Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong?”
Your face was burning red, a tear slipping down your face as you sniffled. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Well, I do.” He pushed, tucking your loose hair behind your ear. “I wanna know what’s got you upset. Come on, tell me.”
You whined, keeping your head in the opposite direction so he didn’t see you. When he questioned you like this it wasn’t hard for you to break. “I just- fuck,”
Eddie widened his eyes. It was rare for you to curse. You even criticized when he did it. “Woah, there, holy mary,” He chuckled. “Thought we were supposed to watch our language, huh?”
Your face was beat red and you couldn’t stop thinking about the magazine. “Do you think I’m pretty?” You turned to him, eyes full and bright.
“What?” He said confused.
“You heard me.” You blinked. “Do you think I’m pretty?”
He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. “What kind of question is that? Of course, I think you’re pretty. You’re beautiful, y/n.”
You pondered with his answer, looking down at your lap. “Well, I don’t think so.”
“That’s stupid.” He answered without a beat, shaking his head. “Don’t think like that. I don’t want you to. You’re beautiful and you know it.”
“But I’m not like them.” You whined, fisting your hands with a cry. “I’m not skinny like those models. My hairs not shiny like theirs, it’s just a big fucking rats nest!”
Your outburst made Eddie recoil, eyes widening in shock at your admittance, but it out the pieces of the puzzle together. “I take it you found my magazine?”
Your face burned as you nodded.
“Baby,” He grabbed your shoulder, turning you toward him. “Look at me. Hey, come on, look at me.” He tried to find your eyes. “I’m sorry you found that. I shouldn’t have it, I know. I promise you I don’t…well, you know, with it anymore. Not since you and I started going out.” He said honestly, wiping away your puffy tears. “But you know those girls in there aren’t actually like that, honey.”
You did, but it didn’t help. “I know.” You tried to look down but he kept your eyes on him.
“And anytime I’ve ever…used it, I’ve only ever thought of you, I promise.” He assured you, grabbing your hands, his hair still damp from his shower. “I’ve always thought of you doing the things in there. Not the other girls. It’s always you.”
You stared at him, looking for any sign of a lie. You didn’t find one. You swallowed awkwardly. “I only looked at a couple pages.”
“What did you see?” He rubbed your knee, scooting closer so your shoulders were pressed together.
“Uh,” You tried to remember, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. “A bench.” You stared at the wall. “A girl on a bench being flogged, and one girl with handcuffs over a man’s knee.” Eddie stared at you, making it much more difficult to say such profound words.
“I’m sorry that it upset you.” He frowned.
You shook your head. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have been snooping. I was just trying to clean up, a bit.”
An awkward silence filled the energy between you. Eddie didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to scare you. But you were still curious after what he had said. “You said you think of me.” You turned to him, eyes no longer wet. “Is that true?”
He nodded.
“You picture me instead of those girls?”
He nodded again.
“Is that…what you want to do to me? That turns you on?” You didn’t know where this sudden urge of confidence came from, but it shocked both you and Eddie.
“Yes.” He felt a twitch in his boxers, looking at your lips. “The idea excites me.” He knew he had to be careful with he said. You were like a baby deer, anything could scare you.
You nodded this time, gulping as you looked at his chest. “I see.”
“What are you thinking?” He asked quickly. “Be honest with me.”
You liked it, the idea of him doing that to you, it was just scary. You didn’t know how to do it. It would be in his hands, which you were okay with. “It’s intriguing.” You looked at him through wet lashes. “Just..kind of scary, too. Do you think we could try it?”
He couldn’t help but smirk, making your tummy flop. “I don’t have a bench, baby.”
“Well, not that.” You shook your head quickly. “Not that. But maybe..I could, uh-”
“Take a breath.” He instructed you, lifting his chin. “Don’t rush.”
You did as he said, taking a deep breath through your nose and out your mouth. “You could put me over your knee.” You opened your eyes to look at him, body almost shaking with nerves.
“You want me to spank you?” He rubbed the back of your neck, a look in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. It made your stomach twist together. “That’s what you want?”
You thought you might faint. You felt a throb between your legs that made you tremble. “I want you to do what you want.” You shrugged your shoulders.
“No, no,” He shook his head. “No, this isn’t about me. It’s what you want. You’ve gotta be honest with me, baby. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
It was what you wanted, you just didn’t really know how to ask for it. He knew you were nervous. Your face was on fire and you were picking at your nails. He rubbed your knee comfortingly.
“I want..” You took a breath. “I want to try what was in the magazine.”
“And what is that, exactly?” He got closer to you.
You swallowed hard, looking down to his lips. Oh, how badly you wanted to kiss him. “I want you to- to uh, to spank me.” You struggled to find the words, choppy and fractured they came.
He put his lips on yours in a desperate, hard kiss, one that knocked you back a ways, his nose pressing against your own. You moaned into him, making his cock harden in his jeans. He loved the sweet sounds you made. He scooted closer till he was right beside you, oh so confidently reaching between your thighs to cup your pussy with his palm. You gasped into his lips, parting away, but he connected them back, mixing his tongue with yours and gritting teeth.
He rubbed you over your shorts, warm and wet. You were so needy for him you wanted to cry all over again. You wrapped your arms around his neck, leaning into his chest. His other hand was in your hair, tangling it, while the other stayed on your warm cunt. You grinded into his hand, back and forth you moved, whimpering into his mouth.
He did this until you were worked up enough, moaning into his neck, biting into his skin as your orgasm was off by seconds causing before you could crash, he pulled away. “Bad girls don’t get to cum.” He whispered into your ear.
“What?” You pulled back, face flushed and voice high pitched. “What-”
“Going through my things was bad.” He tsked, pulling your hands off from his neck. “You knew better, angel, but you did it anyways. This means I’m not doing my job correctly. You’re falling out of line.”
Your mouth fell open and close, trying to find words. “I don’t-”
“You know what this means, don’t you?” He raised a brow. “You’re going to be punished, you understand?”
Your pussy pounded, heart racing, blood rushing. The thrill of excitement went straight to your core. “Okay.”
“Okay?” He repeated. “No. You address me as sir during your punishment, got it?” He lifted your chin, raising a brow.
You quickly nodded. “Yes. Oh, I mean- yes, sir.”
He nodded in approval, patting his knee. “Then get over my knee.”
You looked down at his thighs, then back up to him, unsure. You couldn’t move. Nerves paralyzing you. When your breathing got loud, Eddie frowned.
“Hey,” He grabbed your hand. “You alright?”
“Yes.” You nodded quickly. “Sorry- just, nervous, I guess.” You chuckled awkwardly, brushing away your hair.
“Take a breath.” He rubbed your back. “We don’t have to do anything, baby, I’m sorry.”
“No,” Your eyes widened. “No, I- I want to,” You assured, grabbing his wrist. You knew if Eddie got to thinking about it too much, he’d be too worried to continue. You needed to take action.
“I’ve been bad, Eddie.” You said as confidently as you could. “I think I need to be punished.”
His face drew darker, lips curling. “You have.” He agreed. “Think we should take care of it?” He held out his hand for you to take.
You slipped your hand into his, allowing him to pull you over his lap, your torso flush against his lap. Your hair fell over your face, the blood rushing to your skull.
“Comfortable?” He patted your back.
“Yes, sir.” Your words made him smile.
He looked down to your backside, rubbing his hands over your shorts. “I can’t punish you with your shorts on, honey.”
You were sure he could feel you throbbing against his thighs. “Take them off.” You said bashfully.
He chuckled at your meekness, pulling down your shorts to find you bare. He gave your flesh a little love tap, warming you up. “You tell me to stop if you need to, alright? This is new for you, baby, don’t overwhelm yourself.”
You nodded. “Yes, sir, I won’t.”
He warmed your skin, littered with goosebumps, rubbing the fat of your ass with his hands, squeezing and pulling. You had to clamp your mouth shut from moaning, already becoming a mess all over again. You were always so sensitive. Eddie always used it to his advantage.
“I’m going to start.” He announced. “Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
The first smack was light, startling you with a tiny gasp. The second one, still gentle, warming you up. The third was on the opposite cheek, a little harder, but not much. You had to force yourself not to grind yourself on his jeans, your pussy throbbing with such a need.
“Shit,” You cursed, turning into a yelp when he spanked you hard.
“Language,” He said sternly, rubbing the skin he assaulted. “We don’t talk like that, remember? Trying to make you my good little girl again.”
The fourth and fifth spank was harder, enough to draw sounds from you. Six and seven came quick, making you breath heavy, anticipating the next. You were throbbing so hard it was hard to think clearly, a small burn on your backside starting to grow. You moaned when he spanked you again, full handed, lower where the skin met your thigh.
“You’re not supposed to be enjoying this, sweetheart.” You could hear the smirk in his voice. “This is a punishment.”
You jumped when his hand dipped between your legs, trailing his fingers through your slit. You let out a loud, desperate moan that made him chuckle. “This really get you going, huh?” He pushed his fingers inside of you, making you squeal, lurching up from his lap.
“Oh, god!” You cried out, being pushed back down by his hand. “God, Eddie,”
“Hush.” He smacked your ass hard, continuing to finger you.
You shoved your hand in your mouth as he quickly finger fucked you, giving you no time to adjust to his fingers. He had his way with you, entering his digits in and out with a loud squelch. You cried into your hand, rocking yourself back and forth into his fingers. He worked you up until you were close to coming, pulling away before you could. “Bad girls don’t get to cum.” He said sternly, landing two harsh smacks on your ass, continuing with your punishment.
The peak of your orgasm faded away quickly and you sobbed, yelping and jumping as his hand came down harder on your skin. It really wasn’t bad. You knew he wasn’t using his full strength, but your sensitivity was making everything more heightened. Your need for him stronger.
“Are you learning anything?” He switched from cheek to cheek, alternating in steady, rhythmic movements.
“Yes!” You sobbed, your belly flip flopping.
“What?”
“I need to be a good girl.” Your orgasm was coming back just as quick just from the spanking itself. You were going to cum right on his lap. “Fuck, Eddie, I’m gonna cum.” You reached down to squeeze his ankle. “Spank me,”
He told you not to, but the idea of you coming just from him spanking you? He was hard as bricks. “Fuck.” He cursed, adjusting his hold on you before bringing his hand down again hard. Your whole body tensed on his lap as he spanked you, but the rhythm of the music that left your mouth told him he was doing a good job. “Fucking cum on my lap.” He husked. “Be my good little girl again.”
One more smack down towards your core sent you over the edge. You let out a wail, a shrill gasp that made him stop immediately, thinking he had hurt you. You convulsed on top of him, weeping and sweating as your body wracked with shakes of overstimulation and excitement.
“Oh, god,” You panted, fisting at his ankle. You were completely fucked out of it. Your vision was blurry and your head pounded, body shaking so hard that you thought you could hear your bones shaking.
“Baby?” You could hear him say. “Are you alright?” He grabbed your arm, trying to lift you so he could see your face. “Come on, honey, talk to me.”
You could feel how hard he was against your side, but your pussy was sore from having his fingers lodged up inside of you, too sensitive, but you wanted him anyways. With shaky limbs you crawled off his lap and sank to floor, looking up to him with a ruined face. “Am I good girl again, daddy?” You blinked through wet lashes.
He quickly fumbled with his belt, already struggling to keep his cool. “Fuck, yeah, you are, honey.”
You sat up to wrap your lips around his cock as soon as it was free. He gasped, leaning back on his elbows as he watched you. Your makeup was all over your face, snotty and slobbering. Your tongue swiped at the sides and the base of his cock, your hands coming up to massage his balls. He jumped, trembled in your grasp as he bucked his hips into your mouth. “Ah- god, good girl,” He praised. “Such a good girl. Took your spanking so well for me, didn’t you?”
You gagged around him as he sat up, grabbing the back of your head as he wracked his fingers through your hair. He thrusted just hips gently into your mouth, letting out a load moan that made your tired pussy flutter to life. “Fuck, fuck,” He chanted, his own orgasm building in his abdomen. “You gonna take my cum down your throat, huh? You gonna do that for daddy? Be my good- ah, oh- god, good little girl?”
He praised you as he came, shooting his load in your mouth with a quick flex of his hips. You gargled around him, your strings of saliva drooling out of your mouth. When you swallowed and let go of his cock, he collapsed on the bed where you joined him.
You both laid side by side. Teary eyes and flushed faces, ruined makeup and his cum leaking down your neck, a drop you had missed. And your ass incredibly sore, but buzzing with a sense of something new and exciting. The both of you are too fucked out to say anything, so you just grabbed his hand.
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purple-babygirl · 1 month
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welcome baaaack! i missed you so much
i've been here since forever and i remember a very long time ago that you promised us insecure chubby bucky. i never forget and i'm still waiting for him (when you get time for sure). i would love to read that whenever you right it! otherwise i'm really happy you're back again.
much love purple<3
Pairing: Insecure!Chubby!Chef!Bucky Barnes x f!reader
Word Count: 4,180
Summary: Bucky runs into his ex, who manages to mess with his head, bringing his insecurities to the surface again. His girl takes it upon herself to show him how perfect he is.
Warnings: 18+ content, bullying (sort of), fat shaming, negative self body image, insecurities, intrusive thoughts, mentions of cheating, a little crying, a little angst, smut, unprotected vaginal sex, cum, multiple orgasms
A/N: Nonnie, omg, you have been here a long time! I love and appreciate you so so much and I can't believe you stuck around for so long wow:"💜💜 Thank you so much for existing and for being here you're the reason I don't wanna leave again💜💜💜 Here's one insecure chubby bucky for you, I hope you like this one and that I did a good job💜 Thank you again ilyyy, please enjoyxx💜💜(y'all i think i forgot how to write smut what is wrong with me)
~
perfect to me
“I’m so sorry, baby, I have to run,” she told him after checking her phone, pecking his lips and taking quick steps down the aisle of the large store.
Bucky smiled, taking another fruit plate and placing it in their cart. His girl was such a hard worker and he couldn’t be prouder.
It was going to be Christmas soon and his girl was still working hard so Bucky was going to make her the best holiday food she’s ever tasted.
He was focused on picking the freshest cranberries when he heard a scoff, a very familiar one.
“Hey, Ryan,” Bucky sighed, not really wanting to ruin his good mood, as he turned around to meet a face he knew too well.
“What does she owe you?” said Ryan, tilting his head with a smirk.
“What?!”
“There’s no way this chick is seeing you. I figured she must owe you and is just paying her debt!” He smirked further, not even trying to hide his gloating when he saw that his words still had an effect on Bucky.
“My relationship with her is none of your business.” Bucky’s voice was suddenly low as his eyes stared down at the contents of the cart.
“But my relationship with you is.” Ryan put a finger under Bucky’s chin but the latter took a step away.
“We don’t have a relationship. You cheated on me, remember? I was too fat for you.” Bucky’s shaky voice moved nothing inside Ryan. If anything Ryan wanted more.
“And now you’re too fat for her.”
“Shut up. She is nothing like you.”
“Really? Do you even know where she goes when she leaves you? Where she is right now, for example?” Ryan smirked.
“She got called into work and had to run to the office.” Bucky knew he owed him nothing and if he was in his right mind he wouldn’t have went through a conversation with Ryan at all, but he wasn’t.
“How are you still so naïve?” He laughed heartily as if Bucky’s misery was actually amusing to him.
“Leave me alone.” Bucky tried to push the shopping cart and walk away, but Ryan stepped before him.
“I didn’t know your publisher lived in an office.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She leaves you to go fuck your publisher. You know him, black guy, sexily built, very handsome.”
The words left Bucky feeling lightheaded as the world seemed to twirl around him. Could history be repeating itself? No, not this time. His girl was not like that.
“I saw her coming to his building with him.”
“How’d you even-”
“I wait tables in the restaurant across the street from his apartment. I didn’t know she was with you but damn are you lucky you met me today!” Ryan laughed insensitively.
“It’s probably someone else.”
“I think I know what your publisher looks like.”
“You’re lying,” Bucky chocked out, trying to get out of Ryan’s way.
“You don’t sound so sure about that.” Ryan tilted his head again with a smug smirk, poking Bucky’s tummy, “you know why? Because deep down you know she’s too sexy for you. Because you look at her and then at yourself and you can’t figure out why she’d want you. Because you know that sooner or later she’s gonna get tired of your fat ass and—”
“My life now is none of your business, Ryan. You left. You chose to go, so stay gone.” Bucky’s weak voice interrupted, shutting Ryan right up before he sped out of the store, leaving the groceries behind.
“You’ll come back to me when you see for yourself!” He shouted after Bucky, but he didn’t stop nor turn back.
The questions he had raised in Bucky’s head, Bucky had no answers for them himself. Why was this sweet girl with him? What did she see in him? Anyone who met them thought the same thing: they didn’t belong together. So what did she see differently? What was Bucky bringing to their relationship? Could he even satisfy her? Could he keep her fulfilled?
He thought the days where Ryan messed with his head were long gone but he was obviously mistaken. Ryan could still easily hurt him. He could still make him feel as large as an elephant yet smaller than an insect. The dagger he’d planted was in so deep that Bucky couldn’t feel anything but the pain the stab brought.
~
His ex’s words plagued his mind. They took over and drowned out his girl’s voice, pushing it to the background.
All of a sudden, Bucky was very aware of his size, of the way the couch made the slightest sounds under his weight, and the way his girl could fit her whole self on one of his thighs if she wanted to.
“Bucky bear?” A hand on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts.
Suddenly, he hated the words she nicknamed him with. Bear? Is that how big she thought he was?
“Hmm?”
“I was asking if you wanna go shopping for last minute gifts with me tomorrow,” she repeated, smiling sweetly, her fingers brushing a few hairs back and behind Bucky’s ear as she yawned.
Bucky’s new cookbook became a best seller after one week of release and the publication house was throwing the amazing chef a party.
She couldn’t be prouder and she wanted to support Bucky all the way. She loved Christmas and now it was going to be even better with this event added to their memories.
She was going to go all out for her man and he didn’t even know it. It was going to be a huge surprise and she couldn’t wait to make it happen.
“Yeah, why not,” Bucky replied, faking a smile back.
“What were you busy thinking about?” Her thumb traced his stubbly cheek as she frowned worriedly.
For a wonderfully successful cook, Bucky didn’t look so happy.
“You,” he answered with the truth though his eyes didn’t sparkle like they usually would at the thought of her.
“What about me?” Her smile returned as she stared lovingly at Bucky’s face.
“Why are you with me?” Bucky couldn’t hide the sorrow in his voice if he tried.
“What?” She sat up straight in his lap as her face fell.
“Please don’t make me repeat the question.”
“Buck, where’s this coming from?” Her hands cupped both his cheeks.
“I just don’t get it.” He shook his head, swallowing as his hands removed hers from his face.
“Don’t get what?!” She placed her hands on Bucky’s chest instead, refusing to let him push her away.
“Why you’re here!”
“I’m here because I love you, what’s hard to get, baby?”
“Do you really love me?”
This was serious. She’s never seen her boyfriend look so broken.
“James, what’s going on?”
“Answer the question, plum,” Bucky requested, the back of his fingers stroking over her cheek, knowing this was probably the last time he would get to touch her soft skin.
“Of course I love you!”
“Then why do you leave me to go meet Sam and then lie to me about it?!” Bucky unintentionally raised his voice.
“W—what?”
There were so many emotions overwhelming her and none of them was pleasant.
She was shocked, hurt and dejected. Bucky has never raised his voice at her before.
 “What were you doing together last night? And the night before and the night before that?!”
“Bucky, you’ve got it all wrong.” She shook her head, heartbroken that Bucky would think of her like that.
“Please leave.” He slid her off his lap and stood up, turning his back to her.
“Bucky.” Tears pricked her eyes.
“Leave, plum.”
“Bucky, me and Sam were—”
“If you won’t leave then I will.” Bucky sped to the door, grabbing his jacket from where it was hanged.
The last thing he wanted was to cry in front of her too. He’s already shown his weakness once; never again.
“Bucky!”
He ignored her calls, ready to run out of the door and let his legs take him far away where he’d have to hear no lies and could no longer get hurt.
“James Bucky Barnes, don’t you dare walk out on me!” She blocked the door, preventing Bucky from exiting the apartment.
Her eyes glistened with yet to be shed tears as her heart pounded in her chest. The mere idea of losing Bucky for any reason terrified her more than anything else.
She loved the man with her heart and soul and would go to the ends of the Earth for his sake. Why couldn’t he see that?
“I didn’t wanna ruin the surprise but… your book is a best seller. Me and Sam were planning you a party to celebrate. We figured if we met at the restaurant it’d ruin the surprise so I saw him at his place after work.”
Bucky stared at her dumbly.
“You can call Sam if you don’t believe me.”
“Oh.” Bucky felt like someone’s just dumped a bucket of cold water over his head; felt like an absolute idiot, “oh, plum.”
“I’m sorry I kept it a secret, but I’m not sorry I wanted to do something nice for the man I love.” A tear rolled down her cheek and her lower lip trembled, “and I’m really sad with you for stalking me and doubting me like that. I didn’t expect that from you, Bucky… and I’m hurt.”
“Sweet plum-”
“You can leave now if you still want to.” She took quick steps to the bedroom, leaving Bucky at the door.
It wasn’t often that she and Bucky fought and it was never something that couldn’t be solved within an hour. He could never bear to see her upset, let alone let her go to bed mad at him.
“Plum,” Bucky softly knocked on her door, swallowing the lump stuck in his throat, “can I please come in?”
But this was big.
Bucky has doubted her love for him. He has insulted her loyalty and ruined everything because of his insecurities and the poisonous words of a man who never cared for him.
She opened the door for him in a heartbeat, her face soaked in tears.
“No, no, sweet plum.” Bucky took her in his arms, praying to the deities she wouldn’t repel from his touch.
“You pushed me out of your lap.” She sobbed, her chest heaving and her forehead pressed to his shoulder.
His accusations hurt but the fact that he pushed her away somehow hurt her more.
Bucky couldn’t help but let his tears fall as well.
How could he be so thoughtless? She was the one good thing in his life and he almost let her go. No amount of restaurants he could open could make him feel as happy as a smile from her would.
He could write a library and collect every prize ever known to humankind, and she would still be the best thing Bucky has ever won over.
“I’m stupid, baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” His hold tightened, engulfing her smaller frame in a desperate hug, “please don’t cry because of an idiot like me. I’m sorry, sweet plum. Forgive me, baby.”
“Why’d you do it?” Her sad eyes looked at him in question, full of confusion yet void of bitterness.
“I- sweet plum-” Bucky didn’t know how to answer her question because now that he looked back, he could see how stupid it all was.
Why did he follow her for 3 consecutive nights while she went to meet Sam instead of just trusting her? Why did he choose to believe and trust in Ryan’s words and not her love for him? Why was it easier for him to imagine her with someone like Sam but impossible to think of her with someone like himself?
“It’s because I’m a big idiot,” Bucky replied.
“Bucky.”
“Please forgive me, plum.” Bucky pecked her temple.
“Tell me what happened.”  She demanded softly, wiping Bucky’s own tears away and kissing his chin.
“Nothing happened, sweet plum. I got inside my own head again. I’m sorry, baby.” Bucky lied with a sad smile, too ashamed to admit Ryan’s words almost had him ruining the best relationship he’s ever been in.
She nodded understandingly, her hand cupping Bucky’s face as she rested his forehead on hers.
Bucky would tell her when he was ready. She didn’t want to stay mad at him. She knew he had issues with self confidence and she wasn’t about to make him feel even worse. He would come to her when he was comfortable. Bucky would tell her on his own.
“Please stay.” She whispered, her teary eyes heavy with sleep, yet afraid to go to bed and have Bucky leave after.
“I’m not going anywhere, sweet plum.” Bucky kissed her forehead, taking her by the hand to their bed.
~
“You know you can talk to me, right?” Her soothing voice whispered, filling the dark room.
Bucky was laying wide awake, Ryan’s words playing in his ears over and over again. What he did to his girl and how he made her cry. All the messed up shit he did just hours ago gnawed at him and took the sleep away from his eyes.
“I ran into Ryan,” Bucky finally replied, unable to sleep while he’s hiding something from her, “he filled my head with thoughts about you leaving me for Sam, and I let him.” He admitted to the ceiling, hesitant to meet her eyes.
“I would never leave you,” she promised him without reluctance, cupping his face and making him look at her.
She wanted him to see all the love her eyes held for him with no shame.
“Please don’t. I will lose the weight, I will—”
“Wait, what? He told you I’d leave you because of your weight?” Both hands were back on Bucky’s cheeks, thumbs wiping under his eyes.
Bucky nodded.
“And you believed him?”
“It’s why he left me.” He shrugged.
“Bucky,” she sighed.
“I know I know. It’s what’s on the inside that counts—”
“Don’t talk as if you’re not physically breathtaking!”
“Baby—”
“No! You have no idea how handsome you are, do you?!”
“Plum, you don’t have to say such stuff.” Bucky shook his head sheepishly and regretted it when he saw sadness cover her delicate features.
She quickly shook it off, scratching her forehead before taking Bucky’s hand, helping him sit up in their bed.
“Sweet plum, what are you doing?” Bucky asked when she started moving the covers down his torso.
“Gonna love on my man. Would you let me, Bucky? Can I love on you?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet.
Bucky nodded, hypnotized by the adoration shining in her eyes and she started to undress him.
Her eyes never left his as she took piece by piece of clothing off, revealing his beautiful figure to her, her smile only faltering when she bit down at the sight of her man in all his naked glory.
Bucky’s body was lit up under the soft moonlight coming from the window, helping her appreciate every curve and inch.
This gorgeous human being was his and he was hers.
“You’re so fucking sexy you take my breath away,” she moaned, slipping out of her own sweater, “and I don’t just mean the way you make me cum so many times until I have to fight for oxygen.” She brushed her lips on his.
Bucky was speechless. He could only stare and try not to lose his own oxygen.
“Keep your eyes open for me, Buck.” She pecked his lips once and he opened his eyes at once, not even realizing he’d closed them in the first place.
She smiled at how fast he followed the instruction, leaning back on the headboard and licking his lips.
Bucky’s groan when her bra hit the ground made her giggle. She slipped out of her panties, leaving herself bare before Bucky’s eyes.
“Come here, plum,” Bucky’s arms reached for her but she shook her head.
“This is about you, Bucky Bear.”
She climbed on the bed between Bucky’s legs, her hands wandering along his shins, thumbs caressing up his inner thighs. She bowed forward, peppering kisses on Bucky’s soft flesh.
“I love your thighs,” her lips moved higher and higher, the tiny kisses and nibbles driving Bucky crazy as he tried not to touch himself, “love how thick they are. So strong. So perfect. I would ride them all day if you’d let me.”
Bucky whimpered when she accompanied the honest words with a bite, leaving her mark on his pale flesh.
“And that ass,” she moaned, her hands sliding underneath Bucky, pulling his legs up and cupping his ass cheeks.
Bucky’s shy gasp made her smirk. He was so precious she could eat him. Maybe she should some day…
She let Bucky’s legs settle back on the bed and kept kissing up and up, skipping his twitching cock on purpose and placing wet kisses on his tummy instead. Her eyes locked with his and Bucky bit his pink lip.
He looked so beautiful, blushing, disheveled and turned on like that. His pupils were dilated, his cheeks rosy and his breath uneven; she was falling in love with this chef all over again.
“I love your tummy so so much,” her tongue dipped in Bucky’s bellybutton and the flush spread from his cheeks and on to his neck and chest.
Another moan slipped from his lips as her warm tongue lapped at his skin. She was full on licking him now.
Her words were romantic but the way she was loving him was driving him insane.
“I love to feel it against me when we hug,” she kissed his right side, “I love when you let me rest my head on it and I get to hear you breathe and feel your heartbeat,” she kissed his belly, “I love how it warms my back when you spoon me. And I love feeling it pushing against my ass when you take me from behind.” She pressed a final kiss to his left side.
“My favourite has got to be your cock though.” She gave his leaking dick a single pump and his hips were already bucking off the bed, “I’m a sucker for this cock, baby. Literally.”
Bucky was too busy whining when her mouth wrapped around the crown of his cock to call her out on her bad joke.
His whole body was on fire with need for her. He needed her to do something, anything.
“Plum, please. Let me get you ready. I need you. I need to be inside you.”
Bucky didn’t want to cum in her mouth, not this time. He needed to be buried deep inside her and he wasn’t sure how long he would be able to last.
“I’m ready,” she said, situating herself on top of his cock, rubbing the tip on her wet folds, letting out filthy mewls at the feel of him against the lips of her pussy, “always ready for you, baby.”
Before Bucky could argue that he should at least make sure she was prepared to take him just in case, she was pushing the tip of him in, stretching herself out on his cock with her head thrown back and her mouth open in a silent scream.
“Fuck, plum, so tight,” Bucky groaned, feeling her pussy grip every inch as soon as it disappeared inside her.
When she has completely impaled herself on Bucky’s cock, she stilled, taking a minute to get used to the stretch.
No burn has ever felt as good as the burn she got when Bucky’s dick split her in half. Getting opened on this cock was her favorite thing in the world.
She dragged her lips along his stubbly jaw as she waited, kissing all over his face, savoring the moment as sweetly as possible as if the head of Bucky’s cock wasn’t almost touching up her cervix.
Her open palms glided from around Bucky’s neck to his shoulders and down his arms until she reached his palms.
“and those hands, I think you already know how much I love your hands.” She chuckled as she continued and Bucky nodded, squirming below her.
“I love when you hold my hand; makes me feel safe; chosen,” she rolled her hips, making Bucky groan wantonly.
“I love how fast you can make me cum on the fingers of your left hand.” She whined when Bucky’s hands dug in her sides as she moved on him, surely leaving bruises behind.
“Fuck, plum-” Bucky was so close so fast and he wished he could last longer but the movement of her body on top of his, the words leaving her mouth and her walls snug around his cock were too much.
“I love you. Every inch, every part. I love all of you, Bucky.”
Bucky groaned in reply, chest heaving as he watched her take him.
“I love every part of you. I crave your touch like my lungs crave air.”
Bucky involuntarily thrust up, making her eyes roll.
“Oh Buck!” she wailed, Bucky hitting her favorite spots so good.
He couldn’t stop his hips from meeting hers every time she came down to take his cock over and over again, eyes glued to where he was disappearing inside of her.
“Nothing could ever match the feeling of being filled up of you, Bucky.”
“I love you, plum ahhh fuck,” Bucky moaned, overwhelmed by emotions and ready to burst any second.
“I love you too, Bucky bear. You’re my everything; my one and only.” She kissed him hard, thighs shaking around his body as she came on his cock.
Bucky couldn’t help but let go himself, cumming harder than he has ever before, filling her up with so much cum until he felt it leak out of her despite having her plugged on his softening cock.
She moaned at the warmth of his cum, shuddering when it seeped out of her.
“Fuck, plum,” Bucky sighed on her shoulder, breath still shaky.
She giggled shyly, burying her face in Bucky’s neck.
“Where did that come from?” Bucky asked, cupping her cheek so he could look at her.
She was glowing, smiling at him so innocently as if his cock wasn’t still buried deep up her leaking, pulsing pussy.
“From here.” She pointed to the spot between her breasts.
“Right here?” Bucky leaned forward to press a kiss on her hot skin, making her laugh as she nodded.
“I love you,” he whispered on her lips.
“I love you, Bucky. I love every tiny detail about you inside out. Nothing will ever change that.” She promised, seeing his eyes soften once again, insecurity dissipating.
“Thank you, plum.” Bucky hugged her close, kissing her shoulder and the back of her neck.
“Thank you for letting me show you how much I love you.”
“So you love my cock huh?” Bucky teased.
“Buckyyyy,” she whined, trying to get away as her face heated up.
“No, say it.” Bucky bit his lip, looking at her with a smirk.
“You know I do. Stop.”
“No, plum. I don’t know anything.” Bucky shook his head trying to act serious, “say it again.”
“Iloveyourcock,” she mumbled, trying to take herself off his cock.
“What was that, plum?” Bucky thrust upward into her and even with a soft cock he could make her make the sweetest sound.
“Hngh, I love your cock, Bucky,” she moaned, throwing her head back.
“Hmm, how much?” Bucky swirled his hips, feeling himself get hard again.
“S-so much,” she admitted as his cock stretched her sensitive pussy.
Bucky held her close, turning them the other way around and gave a deep push when he was on top, his cum making the filthiest squelching sounds as she screamed an “oh god”.
“So much you’d let me take you again?”
“Yes, yes,” she nodded frantically, not wanting the man to stop his thrusts.
And he wasn’t going to.
Bucky’s tummy pinned her down as he pressed his lips to hers, eating up her squeals as he pounded her into the bed, showing her how much he loved her.
~
“So you really don’t care about my weight?” Bucky asked, supporting his body up on his elbows as he stared at her glossy eyes.
She could barely remember her name as she tried to come down from the other two orgasms Bucky has just given her, his body still on top of hers, but that wasn’t a question she needed to think about the answer to.
“I only want you okay and healthy, Bucky. If you’re comfortable, I’m comfortable. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Otherwise, you’re perfect to me,” she told him with a shrug, pushing his wet hair behind his ears, “every little thing about you is perfect.”
“I love you so much, plum.”
“I love you more.” She smiled, heart fluttering at the look he was giving her.
“Not possible.” Bucky kissed her lips, “not possible, plum.”
~
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gojomamashouse · 6 months
Text
Taking Care of You
Pairing: Mike Schmidt x babysitter!reader
Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, Fem!reader. Very minor mentions of injury & blood.
Description: He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home.
A/N: crossposted on my Ao3 and Tumblr.
3.7k words
18+ content! Minors and ageless blogs dni!
Tumblr media
You remember the first time you came over to babysit for Mike all too clearly. You remember the way your eyes went wide when the door opened, and how your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. More importantly, you remember thinking that Mike Schmidt was far too hot for his own good, a clear image in your mind of how he had greeted you with tired eyes, messy hair, and a hand gripping the doorframe.
"Mr. Schmidt," you had blurted, ignorant to how his nose scrunched at the words leaving your mouth, "It's nice to—"
"Don't tell me I look that old?" His tired expression tried a smile, and you found yourself standing there, unable to formulate a proper response as you were already convinced you messed up the job before you even started. "Just Mike is fine.”
Back then, the only thing you knew about him was that he was hot, overworked, and clearly exhausted. So you did your best to make his life easier, even if those things were small, like cleaning all the dishes before he came home, tidying up all the clutter left behind on the table and kitchen counter. It wasn’t much, but you figured he could use whatever help he could get. He came home the first night, too tired to even notice before collapsing on the couch. Suppressing a giggle, you threw a blanket over his sleeping form, lingering a moment longer than you should have just to observe his face. Even in his sleep, you weren’t sure you could find even an ounce of peace in his expression.
Mike remembers the first week of your babysitting, when he returned home at some ungodly hour that Friday. While most babysitters in the past opted to lay on the couch, sleeping or watching TV, he had discovered that you preferred to be a bit more proactive. That night, in particular, he recalled your humming in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher.
A strange feeling filled his chest at the sight, the smell of dinner still lingering and the radio playing some old song from his childhood. It was a feeling he shouldn't have been feeling towards the babysitter looking after his little sister. You had jumped when the floorboard creaked beneath himself shifting weight, still shy and jittery around him at the time.
“I didn’t see you come in,” your voice is still shaken from the scare. You turned to the oven, “Oh! I kept the food warm, in case you wanted some. Are you hungry?”
“No, no, I’m fine,” he said, blinking a bit to shake the thoughts from his head, “Ah, you don’t have to do all this, you know. The cooking and cleaning stuff.”
“I don’t mind. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” you returned your gaze to the dishes in the sink, “Besides, you work hard. It’s the least I can do. Just let me take care of it.”
Just let me take care of it.
A phrase he hadn’t yet forgotten, either. When was the last time anyone had taken care of anything for him? He’d taken on the role of being Abby’s caretaker the moment his parents were out of the picture. He had made countless sacrifices, dropping out of school to work full-time, losing his social life. His old friends preferring to go out partying rather than hang out with the guy who has a kid sister and a full-time job. Every day was work, only to mess up at work. Then go home, stress over a dirty home. Drive Abby to school, stress over her education and development.
He didn’t have it within himself to deny you, not when you were so kind and helpful. Even if the guilt ate away at him, reminding him how he couldn’t even afford to pay you close to what you deserved.
His eyes wandered to an image on the counter. There was himself, a familiar stickman with brown hair. There was Abby, of course, given the height difference. And then there was another figure, the hair undeniably similar to yours. All three figures were holding hands together inside a square home.
“What’s this?” He picked it up.
“Abby told me it’s us,” you had laughed, placing a dish in the dishwasher. “Cute, right?”
There was a thumping in his chest as he looked at you, before looking back down at the paper. All he could manage was a smile as he pinned it to the fridge.
You soon felt his presence at your side, his hand picking up another dish while you rinsed yours.
“Let me help with that,” he said.
You’ve fallen into a routine. Every day, when he returns home, he is met with the same thing. You, in the kitchen, humming. You, greeting him with a smile. You, sitting down to eat with him. You, always asking him about his day even though you know by now that he has nothing interesting to say. He prefers to hear you talk instead, to listen to you ramble about your shitty college professors and annoying roommates. He likes it like this. To be able to pretend that he’s not some deadbeat who can’t hold down a job to save his life or some traumatized freak haunted by the memories of his dead brother and parents. With you, he gets to pretend like he’s normal.
But, of course, just because he can pretend things are normal, doesn’t mean they are. Reality soon hits him when he’s sitting in his boss’s office, asking Mike for his badge and ID. It hits him when he’s driving home, remembering how he beat an innocent man, his knuckles still bloody as he grips the steering wheel tight. He walks through the front door, hearing you greet him from the kitchen, a sound that would have been music to his ears any other day.
“Mike?”
He doesn’t have the energy to reply. No, all he can do is walk over to the chair in the living room, sinking into it with a sigh. He loosens his tie and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of dishes clattering in the sink followed by your footsteps against the hardwood floor.
“Hey, you okay?” Your voice is soft and gentle. His eyes shoot open when he feels your even softer touch against his forehead, laying the back of your palm flat. “You’re not sick, are you?”
In all the time you’ve been babysitting, neither of you had done so much as touch each other at all. The few times he could remember was how your fingers brushed when you reached for the same dish in the sink or the innocent hand you placed on his shoulder that one time you laughed so hard you couldn’t hold yourself up. He had always made sure to keep his hands firmly placed in his pockets or at his side. Now, you were touching his face, and he thinks that’s the first time anyone has touched him like that in years.
“Don’t worry about me.” He pleads, his body betraying his words when he leans into your touch, your hand drifting to caress his cheek, “You don’t have to.”
You ignore him, and your eyes scan over his form, before landing on his bloodied knuckles. A gasp escapes you, followed by the scolding of his name. He hears you stumble towards the bathroom, rummaging through whatever you can find and returning with a washcloth and disinfectant. You kneel beside him, cleaning the dried blood from his wounds and he winced from the sting of the alcohol.
“I know I don’t have to,” you finally break the silence. “I worry because I care.”
“Why?”
You avert your gaze.
“I just do.”
“That’s not a good enough answer.” He presses. There’s another pause.
“Because this feels like home.”
The answer is enough to render both of you silent, you out of humiliation, and him out of shock because he hadn’t realized you thought the same way.
You finish wiping the last bit of dried blood from his knuckles and there’s a lingering feeling left on his skin, where your fingers held his hands. Soft. Familiar. You’re still kneeling in front of him, but you’re wearing an expression he hadn’t seen since the first week he met you. It’s that look of shyness, the way you used to squirm under his gaze or shrink your presence out of fear of overstepping a boundary.
“Mike?”
“Yeah?
“Let me take care of you. Please?”
He knows it’s wrong. He knows that “messing around with the babysitter” has never been a good idea in the history of ever, but when he sees you gazing up at him like that, sitting on your knees between his legs, your eyes wide like that. Well, what the fuck else is he supposed to do?
The chair isn’t too high from the floor, so he easily finds himself at somewhat your level when he leans forward, his hand lifting your chin to look him in the eye. He pauses, analyzing your face just for a moment. Your lips are parted, so prettily, and your eyes are filled with a look of lust and desperation.
“Please,” you repeat, this time in a whisper.
Any semblance of self-restraint he had before was all lost the moment his lips met yours. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he got a taste, a groan escaping his throat when he feels your tongue in his mouth. And you, you are so pliant. So eager to please. Still timid, hands hesitant as they rested on his knees, but so willing to let him handle you however he pleases, moaning when he tugs on your hair, whimpering when his hands grope your chest through your shirt.
“Quiet,” he mutters between kisses. You feel him pull away, the ghost of his lips at your ear, “we gotta be quiet, yeah?”
You nod, and he kisses your forehead, a tender change from his rough kisses shared only moments prior. He looks down at you, a flustered mess, but knows he must look the same. He couldn’t even remember the last time he let himself indulge like this. He feels your hand slither up his thigh, fumbling with his belt, groaning when you feel him through his jeans.
“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes as your hand dips into his boxers.
“You have no idea,” he says, his hand caressing the side of your face, making circles with his thumb against your cheek. He can feel your skin heat up under his touch. Your hand wraps around his hardening cock, and he has to stop himself from bucking into you. You’re just so gentle and sweet and he knows you’d let him take his frustration out but he just cannot allow himself to do that just yet— not without a little guilt.
“Then talk to me.”
“Got, ah, fired,” he chokes out, feeling your thumb swipe over his tip, gathering his pre-cum and helping you stroke up and down with more ease. “Was my fault, too.”
“You started a fight, didn’t you?”
“Something like that.”
He looks down at you, his cock now fully hard in your hand. He can’t hold but admire the sight, how you hungrily stare at him, or how you press your thighs together to relieve yourself of your own desires. He feels his breathing become heavier with each passing stroke of your hand on his dick, and he forces himself to look away, his hand that had previously been caressing the side of your head now digging his fingers into the back of your scalp.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” he leans his head back, in an attempt to stop himself from busting in your hand before you’ve even done anything. He swears he’s not usually this sensitive, but the fact that it’s been so long, and the fact that it’s you, had him feeling like he was a teenager getting his first handjob all over again. He tries not to think about it. “I’m already behind on bills. I don’t think I can even pay you. Probably won’t even get another fucking job after what I did.”
“You don’t need to pay me.”
“You’ve got to stop saying shit like that,” he shakes his head, almost in disbelief. He looks down at you again, and you’re pressing your lips to kiss the underside of his dick, then kissing his tip. He shudders. “You’re too good for this. For me.”
He’s about to continue, but your lips wrap around him and he can’t think of anything. Curse words slip from his lips, feeling your tongue work around him, your hot mouth taking him. He still has his hand on the back of your head, tempting him to force your head down, but he’s more curious about whether you’d try to take him all yourself— which you do. He feels your throat contract around him as you try to push yourself down his cock, determined to take it all. Sometimes, you really were that predictable. Sure, you were a timid little thing, but you were equally if not more stubborn. He grips the back of your head to pull you off, a cough rising to your throat as you catch your breath and he smiles lazily.
Your quick to take him back in your mouth, and he cherishes the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and your hands that reached for the base of him to stroke whatever you couldn’t take. He gives an experimental thrust and he’s in bliss when he hears you moan around him. And as much as he wishes he could do this forever, watching you take him in your mouth, he knows his own limits and he knows he won’t last any longer. Besides, he’s neglected your needs for far too long.
He pulls you off of his cock finally, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your lips puffy from their earlier actions. Then, he’s lifting you to the couch, hovering over your form as your back hits the cushions. Mike is thankful that you chose to wear a skirt tonight because with your legs spread like this, he gets a full view of your white cotton underwear, as well as the wet patch your arousal has created. He brings his hand down between your legs, feeling you through the fabric. He can hear your breath hitch and he watches you bite down on your lower lip to suppress your noises. And as much as he wants to tell you not to, he is reminded by the fact that you are both doing this in the living room, and the last thing he wants to do is traumatize his little sister, who is sleeping a few doors down the hallway.
“Didn’t know you wanted me this bad,” he whispers, finally slipping his hand past the fabric barrier to gather your slick at his fingers and rub your clit with his thumb, his other fingers prodding at your hole but not yet entering.
“Wanted you for so long,” you admit, sucking in a breath when you feel his thumb circle around your clit again. “You’re really fucking hot.”
“Yeah?”
Two of his fingers finally sink into you and you’re gripping the fabric of his uniform at his shoulders. Rough, long and so much bigger than your own— you have to grit your teeth even harder to stop any sinful noises from escaping you.
“Always thought you were real pretty, too.” He continues, “You’re prettier right now, though.”
He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds making you burn up in embarrassment. He’s obsessed with the way your eyes roll back, how your pretty lashes flutter open and closed, and how your hips buck to meet his rhythm.
“More, please,” you finally let out, your eyes going down to his cock, which was still very much hard. “Need you inside.”
You whimper at the emptiness you feel when his fingers leave, but quickly forget about it the moment your panties are removed and you feel his cock rub against your cunt, the tip resting at your entrance. You expect to feel him push in, only to see that he has paused.
“I don’t have any condoms,” he says, a pained look on his face. He had no reason to keep any around any more, not since providing for Abby had become his number one priority. He mentally kicked himself for it now.
“Mike,” you whine, trying to roll your hips up, but his hands remained firm against you, keeping you down. “I don’t care. Just pull out or something.”
You feel like a pathetic idiot for saying it, and he feels even more of one for considering it at all. All he can manage is a sigh. He’d already crossed so many lines tonight that he shouldn’t have. What difference would crossing one more be?
He hesitates before pushing in, but once he feels your tight walls around the head of his dick he can’t find it within himself to have any regrets. You’re so tight and warm and wet and he loves the way you stretch around him, gasping with every inch he gives you. He pauses when he’s buried at the hilt, mentally trying to cool himself down because the fact that he’s fucking you raw and you’re taking him so well is driving him mad.
“So good,” he coos, his hand on your face, thumb on your lower lip, “so fucking good.”
He pulls away until he’s nearly out again before thrusting into you fully, and he has to slam his hand over your mouth to stop the moan that would have escaped you. He continues to fuck you like this, slowly, and deeply, before it’s not enough, and he finds himself taking you faster, harder, wanting to see how much you were willing to take.
You feel every inch of him inside you, and you can’t help but clench around him every time the tip of his cock hits the spot inside you that you can’t reach with your own fingers. You feel so full and it’s everything and more that you’ve needed for so long.
He pushes up your shirt, revealing your cleavage. Your breasts are still covered by your bra, but he pinches your nipples through the lacy fabric anyway, content when he hears you make a sound, muffled by his other hand which remains on your mouth.
He can tell you’re close from the telltale sign of your pussy clenching harder, and how you start to freeze up, too fucked out to do anything else. He, too, starts to feel himself approaching his limit but knows he has to hold out long enough to let you reach your high first. He finally removes his hand from your mouth and uses it to rub your clit.
“Such a good girl,” he breathes.
“I’ll always be good for you,” you keep your voice a whisper, “Always waiting for you when you come home.”
Your words ignite a desire within him he never realizes he had. He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home. Now, as he’s fucking you, the only thing he can think about is how deeply he wants to cum inside you, over and over again until he gives you another kid to take care of. He doesn’t care if he can’t afford it. He’ll pick up as many jobs as he can get just to take care of you.
He feels your back arch and your walls clench around him, immediately going to kiss you to swallow your cries. He ruts into you, over and over again and though there’s a sinful voice in the back of his head telling him to fill you up until he’s dripping out of you, he knows he should stay true to his promise to pull out. That is, until you tell him otherwise.
“You can do it inside,” you choke out, still fucked out from your orgasm, “I don’t mind—“
Before you can finish your sentence his hips come to a stop and he’s finishing inside you, as deep as he possibly can, as if to not waste a single drop. When he finally pulls out, he can’t help but watch in awe as his seed drips from your cunt down to your ass, ruining the couch cushions beneath you both. He tries not the think about the consequences that will bring. Instead, he’s pulling you close, catching his breath while laying his head against your stomach. Moments later, he feels your hand running your fingers through his hair and he sighs, leaning into your warmth.
“I don’t want you to be Abby’s babysitter anymore,” he starts, his voice hoarse and worn out. He can feel you tense up when he says it, before immediately continuing, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”
He hears you laugh.
“Does that mean I won’t get paid anymore?”
“I’ll repay you in other ways,” he flashes you a suggestive smile, earning him a snort and a flick on his forehead. Still, the guilt gnaws at him from within. “Seriously, though. I will. I’ll take care of you, too.”
He doesn’t care what job he picks up next. He’ll take any job in the world, so long as it means he can provide for you and Abby.
You wake up the next morning, the scent of pinewood and campfire surrounding you. You don’t remember exactly how, but you remember, after being fucked mercilessly, being carried to his room, cleaned up, and falling asleep in Mike’s bed. Now, you find the place next to you empty but can observe Mike standing at the door, speaking in a hushed voice while holding back the door.
You stand on shaky legs, still wobbly from your earlier affairs, approaching the argument.
“Abby, go away!”
“No! Let me—“
“What’s all this?” You interject.
Mike loses his grip on the door and Abby opens it wide. Her arms are crossed, adorning a frown while Mike is bringing his hands to his face.
“Abby, I can explain—“
“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were having a sleepover?” She fumes, “We could have built a pillow fort!”
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greg-montgomery · 22 days
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sleepover part 2 - dbf!hotch x fem!reader
18+ minors dni!
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umm a little part 2 of staying at your dad’s best friend’s house <3 1.5k words, warnings: age gap, choking, degradation? unprotected sex 🤗
To say that your body was on fire since the night before would be an understatement. Aaron held you close until the credits of the movie started rolling, his thumb either rubbing your cheek or running circles on your neck. For such an experienced profiler you were surprised he hadn’t noticed the way you were shaking or the goose bumps on your skin.
His huge hand on you had felt rough on your skin but you wanted nothing else to touch you for the rest of your life. The subtle scent of him was stuck on your clothes and you heavily considered running errands in your pajamas, just so you could live in the cloud of his cologne.
It had just started getting dark outside and you figured Aaron wouldn’t be home until much later. That gave you time to take a long shower and also take your mind off of him and the veins on his hands.
You hit play on your favorite playlist, gathered all your best smelling toiletries, and stepped into the shower. The only problem was that the more you were trying not to think of Aaron Hotchner the more your brain focused on him. When you commanded yourself not to think about his thick thighs, your mind did the opposite. The more you were pushing him away the more he was stuck to you.
Maybe you could take care of your problem until he was home.
--
“Sweetie?”
Aaron searched around the house for you, holding a bag of takeout. He knew your favorite order from all the evenings he had spent at your house, keeping company to your dad – and naturally to you as well.
Moving further into the house, he heard the shower running, finding the reason you hadn’t been replying to him. He had to take a long breath in not to get all hot by the mental image of you in there. Naked and wet and…
No. You were younger, sweet and innocent. He had no business messing with a girl like you. You deserved a guy your age, with less baggage, without a kid, a demanding job, and a dead ex-wife.
Unfortunately for him, all his thoughts and reasons on why he should stay away vanished, the moment the door opened and you stood there in front of him with a little towel wrapped around your body and the expression of a deer caught in headlights.
“Hotch,” you said in a breath. “You’re home.”
“Yeah…I…I brought food.” He wasn’t sure how he was able to speak. Little drops of water were sticking onto your skin, and most of your body was completely exposed.
Aaron wasn’t naïve; he knew you wanted him. Still, he had never even dared to think of touching you.
But now, there you were, wrapped like a little gift just for him, looking at him with eyes that felt as if they were pleading for him to take you.
“I’m sorry for…um…” you said gesturing at your appearance, “this. I didn’t think you’d be home that soon.”
“It’s okay, honey.”
You both stood there for a moment, unable to avert your gaze from each other. The tension was strong, and Aaron knew the right thing would be to ignore it. He wasn’t thinking when he took a step towards you and he definitely wasn’t thinking when he grabbed your arm and pulled you close.
He heard you gasp at the contact and your open mouth looked deliciously inviting. Aaron wanted nothing more than to feel those lips wrapped around his dick, swallowing him whole.
“Hotch…” you whispered all needy, and it snapped him back to reality. If he didn’t let you go now, he would destroy you forever.
“I’m sorry,” he said, releasing your arm, but you grabbed his in response.
“Why are you sorry?”
“Because this is wrong.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
A sigh escaped your lips, and your hand moved across his arm, reached his shoulder, and then moved down his chest. Aaron was praying you would stop soon, otherwise there was no way he was letting you out of his arms tonight.
“Unless you want me to take you to my room you should stop right there, sweetheart,” he said.
“And if I want you to take me?”
Aaron didn’t need another signal. He cupped the sides of your head and crushed his lips on yours, pulling you into his body as close as possible.
Your little whines as your lips moved against his drove him crazy and his cock was getting harder and harder by the second. Using his left hand he grabbed your jaw and urged you to walk backwards, without for a moment dropping your gaze.
Soon, you were on laying on your back decorating his bed. The whiteness of your towel was a beautiful contrast to the darkness of his sheets, as he pulled it off your body.
“Fuck, baby, you are so hot,” he said while scanning your body. To say he had never pictured you naked would have been a lie, but you were prettier beyond any imagination.
“Hotch,” you whined.
“Aaron,” he corrected you.
“Aaron, I need you. Please.”
He was dying to touch your body but his hand went to your face first, parting your lips, letting you suck on his finger. “I know you do.”
Your legs parted and the sight of your glistening cunt had his mouth water. You used your legs to bring him closer, wrapping them around his waist.
Your hands went to his belt, the feeling of them on his crotch driving him crazy. You moaned when you released him from his pants and that moan went straight to his ego, seeing how satisfied you were with his size.
Aaron’s finger was wet with your saliva and he run it down your neck, reaching your chest. Your nipples hardened even more under his touch and he could not resist putting one into his mouth, while he played with the other.
“You’re perfect,” he moaned. He lifted his head to look at you. “I want to make you mine.”
“All I want is to be yours.”
“I know,” he said. “I know. I can see that sweet little pussy dripping and begging for me. How are you this wet already?” he asked, when his hand finally found its way between your legs.
Your response was a sneaky smile.
“What does this little smile mean now?” he grinned.
“I was thinking about you,” you admitted. “In the shower…”
Oh, you were going to be the end of him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Will you show me, baby? Will you show me what you were doing while thinking of me? I wanna see you play with your pussy.”
You blinked ta him shyly.
“Come on, be a good girl and touch it.”
With a proud smile he saw your hand move, before two of your fingers disappeared inside you.
“Fuck,” he said, and started stroking himself at the sight of you. He bit his lips at the thoughts of all the ways he would use your body tonight.
“Need you,” you moaned. “Please, Aaron, I can’t.”
“What would your father say, honey, if I told him I had his daughter under me begging me to fuck her? If I told him she was begging for his best friend’s cock like a fucking slut?”
Your little cries drove him crazy and he placed the head of his dick on your entrance.
“You okay?” he whispered.
You nodded, and the next moment he was inside you.
His hips started rocking against yours, and Aaron thought that this had to be how being in heaven felt.
“You feel so fucking good,” he mumbled against your lips.
“Ah…Aaron,” you moaned. Your hand found his and he thought you wanted your fingers intertwined. To his surprise your request was something different.
“Put it on my neck,” you said.
“You like to be chocked, honey?”
“Mhm…”
He wrapped his hand around your neck and you wrapped your own hands around his wrist.
“Fuck, it’s so good.”
“I know, baby.”
“You’re so fucking big, I…I…”
“Are you close, baby? Will you come for me?”
“Yes, fuck, yes,” you screamed, and he felt your pussy pulse around him.
You looked like an angel while finishing, with your mouth open and your eyes closed. He stared at you, trying to memorize every single feature of your face. You were his now.
He pulled out and after a few strokes he was cumming all over your stomach. Your eyes were on his, and you were biting your finger with a playful smile. It seemed like you wanted to be fucked again, and who was Aaron to refuse you?
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reiderwriter · 8 months
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You'd Be Like Heaven To Touch♣️
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Pairing: Spencer Reid X Female Reader
Word count: 2.2k
Summary: After a whirlwind weekend, you're finally ready to go home and deal with the mess you created in Vegas. But you just cannot get your new Husband out of your head.
Warnings: Oral sex (F receiving), fingering, vaginal sex, no mention of birth control, and you're going to hate me by the end of this sex scene bye
A/N: They're officially out of Vegas! I'm so excited to share the next few parts with you guys, and we finally got our first taste of smut!! Also, the Reid in the gif is the exact one I'm picturing in this scene so yeah 🤡 smirk and all 😏
Here's the series masterlist, and my general masterlist!~
Prev. Chapter // Next Chapter
The race back to the hotel was easy compared to the ensuing rush to pack up an entire hotel room's worth of mess in the time between their arrival and their check-out time. Sure, they’d had to pack light as travelling FBI agents, but with the added mess you’d created in Spencer’s room, and the additional luggage of their marriage licence, the packing was needlessly more frantic than usual. 
When you finally did make it down to the lobby, you froze up a little, realising that you were the final one to exit your room. You watched as seven pairs of eyes shifted to you as soon as the elevator door opened, hauling your go-bag further up your arm from where it was slipping down. You thanked your past self for having the foresight to put some makeup into the bag, having used up a copious amount of your concealer to cover up any evidence of your night with Reid. You still kept a small distance from the others, just in case.
“Sorry, were you all waiting for me?” you smiled at them as you got closer, hoping that they’d not ask questions at what had taken you so long. Your eyes caught Reid’s and you could see that he was looking down at your neck. 
After an entire day morning and night in your company, you knew he’d seen the results of his handiwork. You wondered if the look that raked over you now was that of the dominant Reid from the night before, who you presumed marked you in such prominent places so people would know you were his, or that of the concerned team mate, who didn’t want to be caught and questioned by the others. You tried to shake both images from your head, not sure which would please you more. 
“It’s okay, you’re not late, the cars are being bought around now and the jet leaves in 30,” Hotch greeted you when you finally got close enough. 
“Late night, mama?” Morgan laughed at you as soon as he turned to you. “How did all that drinking last night go for you?” 
You were so wrapped up in Reid and what he may or may not be thinking that you had to pull yourself back to reality for a second to realise that Morgan had been talking to you. 
“What? Oh yeah, I guess. I don’t think I drank too much, but I did sleep like a baby, so who knows.” You laughed a little to punctuate the point, and then watched Morgan’s reaction closely. You were still looking for the two “agents” who had been witness to your marriage, after all. 
“Ooh, you didn’t sample the local goods last night then? I’ve heard that Downtown Las Vegas is the best place to meet single men, and you were just complaining that you hadn’t been out in a while,” Penelope said from beside the man. 
“No, no, the place Reid took me to was more library than bar, and as far from Downtown as you could get, so it was a nice and easy night for me.” 
“And if the local men are anything like our resident Las Vegan,” Emily jumped in, looking at Reid. “Then I’m sure they’re not really what Y/N is looking for.” She laughed and they all start making their way out of the lobby. 
You try to avoid meeting Reid’s eyes after that last comment, sure that you wouldn’t be able to stop the grimace of apology from coming to your lips. But you couldn’t help yourself, and you forced your eyes up into a small peak at his face, only to see his downturned eyes and the small smirk that was crossing his lips. 
You hung back for a second, needing to clue this out, and nudged him with your elbow. 
“What’s that look for?” you whisper at him in a harsh tone, hoping that no one was watching the two of you. 
“It’s nothing.” He says, but the smile stays on his lips. You give him another look, silently communicating that you’re not taking that first answer and he nods a little as he walks beside you. 
“If they could see the marks on your neck, they wouldn’t be thinking that I’m not what you’re looking for, right?” You could feel the heat in your cheeks, and you playfully whacked him in the arm a bit, before pushing through the doors of the hotel and feeling the sun on your cheeks once again. 
You watched him climb into the car you took earlier and stop yourself from following him. You were going to need some time to think about how you should take that last comment, and a half an hour drive outside of his presence would probably do you good. Climbing up into the other SUV, you take a deep breath, feeling all the restlessness of the night before creep up on you.
–X–
You don’t know where you are, but you know that you’re burning up under his touch. His lips are on your skin, working their way down from your neck to the valley between your breasts and all you can hear is the sound of your own lustful moans as his hands trail further still. 
You don’t know who it is on top of you, but you know that you’re dying for him to be there, to push his tongue into your mouth and make you submit to his will. His fingers wrap around the waistband of your panties and roughly pull them down, opening you up to him. You feel his lips ghost down further still, until he’s there between your legs. 
“Is this where you wanted me, baby? So desperate to have me, my little slut.” His words send another shiver down your spine as you roll your hips up into his face again. 
He lets out a small chuckle and gives you what you want, finally lowering his tongue again and letting it meet your desperate cunt. He sets his attention on your clit, and your eyes roll back in bliss, not caring who it is between your legs giving you this much pleasure, just desperate for them to keep going. 
“Don’t stop, please, don’t stop,” you beg, fisting a handful of your mystery man’s hair. It’s soft to the touch, a little curly at the ends and it feels familiar, but you’re unable to think about it for more than a second before he’s pushing a finger into you. 
“That’s it baby. Look at you, so fucking tight around my finger. You want me to push my cock into you, you’re going to have to relax for me baby, okay?” You still don’t know who it is, but you nod for him, knowing you want nothing except everything he’s telling you that you want. 
He’s thrusting his fingers into you at a relentless pace now, adding one digit every few thrusts, until he’s up to three. His face is still buried in your pussy, tongue still flicking against your clit, his other hand pushing you down by the hips as he forces you closer and closer to the edge. 
His hand drops down to your thigh, pushing your legs further apart, and it stays there feeling overly warm, almost burning you up from just that simple touch. 
“You’re so wet for me baby, going to take my cock now?” You whimper and nod your head as fervently as you can, begging him with your eyes to push into you. He finally pulls his head up to your own, and you’re finally face-to-face with your mystery man. 
“So wet for me, right baby? So wet for your husband?” Spencer questions you as he pushes into your wet, dripping hole, and you’re so surprised that all you can do in response is moan. 
With each thrust, he drops a moan into your ears, and you feel your climax building quickly. 
“Ah fuck yes, Y/N,” you claw at his back, desperate to pull him closer. 
“Spencer, don’t stop, fuck.” Your name begins dropping from his lips like a prayer as his thrusts get sloppier, wetter, deeper. 
“Y/N… Y/N……… Y/N….” 
–X– 
“Y/N, are you finally awake? We’ve been calling your name for a minute now.” Your eyes snap open and you come face to face with Emily and JJ from the seats opposite you on the jet. 
“We thought you might be having a nightmare. Want to talk about it?” JJ asks, her voice in a hushed tone as a look of sympathy crosses over her face. 
Whatever that was, it certainly was not a nightmare. But the scenario you were in now certainly was. 
“What? Oh, yeah. I don’t know, maybe it was a nightmare.” You desperately hope you sound convincing enough for them to drop the subject. The last time you’d mentioned a lack of sleep, half of the team had approached you with different home remedies and tips for getting your full 8 hours. The last thing you needed right now was the constant reminder that you’d just had a sex dream about Spencer Reid on the jet whilst surrounded by all your close friends and colleagues. 
Including the man himself, you realised, as you stretched your neck out from its awkward sleep position, and caught the sight of him there next to you. Your car had reached the jet first earlier that day, and it had taken all of two minutes after boarding before you’d been claimed by sleep, so you hadn’t realised he’d positioned himself next to you. 
A quick glance down had told you he’d done more than that. Wrapped around your legs, and so big that it stretched over his too, was a large blanket, the one that he usually used on your longer trips home. He was asleep in the seat next to you, you noticed after an embarrassing amount of time, head resting in one of his hands, lips slightly open, looking the image of tranquillity. 
His other hand was beneath the blanket, somewhere you couldn’t see, but as you shifted slightly in your chair trying to get comfortable again, you realised it was definitely somewhere you could feel. His hand had somehow fallen into your lap, and he had a firm but sleepy grip on your left thigh, the one closest to him. Now that you had moved, so did his hand, rubbing gentle strokes into your skin every few minutes. Slow enough that you were sure he was still asleep, but still enough to have am effect.
His hand was hot against your leg, and his touch burned. You remembered the sensation from your dream and immediately did your best to temper your facial expressions, not wanting to gather any more concern from the two women opposite you at the table than you already had. 
“Y/N? If you want to talk about it, we’re always here you know? This job can be overwhelming at the best of times, and we just worked a hard case. No one would blame you for needing to take some time for yourself.” Emily looked at you in concern now, and it was taking all of your will to keep your eyes on her, and nod at the appropriate time, your brain short-circuiting now that you realised Reid was so close. 
Where did this sudden infatuation with him come from? You’d always appreciated that he was a good looking guy, but you’d never thought about him so thoroughly before, and certainly not enough to lose yourself on the jet to inappropriate thoughts. 
It was the insanity of the weekend, you told yourself, it had to be. You’d learnt more about him and accidentally, possibly, maybe slept together, and now your body was just getting it out of your system. Either that or you’d just learnt too much about his preferences and your brain was just trying to come to terms with each revelation. 
You settled back into comfortable conversation with Emily and JJ, trying your best to convince yourself that your dream had meant nothing, blocking out any noise in your head that was suggesting otherwise. 
Especially the little thought at the back of your brain that was reminding you that you hadn’t removed his hand from your thigh, and that you really didn’t want to. 
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xxblairexxss · 10 months
Text
Revenge (part 2)
Part 1
Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader
Theme : Tiny bit of angst and fluff
In which Charles tried to fix things back after what he did to you last night. Not proofread!
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Charles didn’t sleep at all that night. He couldn’t sleep. He didn’t deserve a wink of sleep after what he did. Funny how he was so tired last night but couldn’t even afford a minute of sleep now. He tried to check up on you but you locked the door. Yeah, served him right. The audacity for him to even try to see you after everything he said was unbelievable.
He only fell asleep due to exhaustion and it felt like a solid 5 minutes before his alarm rang. The house felt cold for some reason. It was early in the morning. He knew you would still be asleep.
Soon as he took a shower and got dressed up, he walked past the guest room and made his way to get the car key. He thought it would be better to not disturb you as you had enough from him anyway. That was when he saw a bowl of fruits on the table with a small handwritten notes on the side.
‘My handwriting is probably so hideous with my left hand but I hope you can read this. I couldn’t prepare your favourite sandwich but I cut these fruits for you. Make sure to eat something before you head out! I’m sorry about last night.’
Charles had to sit as he felt his legs getting weak. Why did you have to make things even worse. He was too embarrassed to talk to you and now he didn’t think he could even look at you in the eyes.
“Chérie?” He softly knocked on the door before turning on the doorknob. Charles took a peek inside the guest room and there you were, sound asleep with one hand clutching on the heating pad against your stomach. He had come in hoping he could apologize or at least say something before he left but seeing the way you sleep, your hair bun was loose as those strands of hair covering your face, you looked like you had just fallen asleep so he didn’t have the heart to bother you.
Charles sat on your side of the bed, careful not to wake you up as he heaved a sigh and tucked the strands of hair away from your face. “Why do you have to do that…after everything I have said.” He placed his hand against your cheek and stroked his thumb on your jaw. You were so kind, too kind that he didn’t know if he still deserve everything, all of this, the blessing of being your boyfriend and to have you as his. “I’ll be back as soon as the shooting ended. I love you.” He leaned in to kiss on your forehead before tucking you in and leave the room.
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“I have never met someone who looks so sad eating strawberries.” Joris took the vacant sit in front his best friend who looked like he had dark clouds surrounding him. “What happened? Was it Y/N?”
“Yeah, I fucked up.” Charles had been playing with the fruit ever since he reached the set. Nothing felt right. He kept on reminding himself to smile and to not bring any private matters into job but it was even harder this time. Maybe telling someone about it would make it better so he told Joris.
“What the fuck? Dude, you know I have always got your back but that was really messed up. What about all the cuts on her? What happened?” Joris would have smacked his friend in the head if they weren’t in public. He wasn’t an expert when it came to dating but he knew that was so low of him.
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask her about that.” He wiped his palm across his face. Now that he thought about it, he didn’t know where you got all those cuts and bruises from. All this time he thought you injured yourself on purpose.
“You didn’t ask her? What a fucking gentleman you are. Your girlfriend came home all bleeding and all you cared about was your image?”
“No, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t—sighs—I don’t know. I fucked up, okay. I know.” He aggressively messed on his hair and covered his face with his palm.
“Y/N even prepared you these after what happened? I would have left the house and you in a second.” You had always been Joris’s favourite. He could see you were different than any of Charles’s exes and hearing what Charles did to you made him fuming.
“No, no. Don’t say that. I can’t—I really can’t lose her, Joris.”
“Well then you should keep your act together or I’m gonna be offering her a ride to get away from you any second she calls me.”
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Charles wasn’t expecting the reply. You would always asked him to buy you tons of your favourite snacks whenever you got your period.
“How was your girlfriend?”
“Pardon?” Charles thought he was hearing things.
“Your girlfriend. That poor girl was hit by a bicycle last night it was really bad. Thank god she has a very loving boyfriend to take care of her. Is this all?” The old man scanned on the items Charles had put on the counter before clicking on the total amount. “Sir, are you alright?”
Charles believed the universe had arranged every events today just to remind how much of an asshole he was. “Yeah, I’m alright. Here, keep the change.”
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“Chérie?”
Charles closed the door and locked it before walking to the room. He knew you were in the bathroom when he heard a mumble coming from it. “Love, what are you doing?”
You had been struggling to put an ointment to your cuts. The cap of the ointment was fully sealed so you had to spend 10 minutes trying to open it and everything felt so awkward when you had to do things with your left hand. “I was just trying to put these on, I thought you won’t be home until another hour. I’m sorry let me clean up the mess. I’m really sorry.” You hurriedly put all the ointments and cotton bud aside.
“Here, I’ll help you.” Charles pushed open the door to the bathroom wider and took a step closer to take the cotton pad from your hand to which you took a stepped back in surprise.
You were still scared of him. You were scared of your own boyfriend.
“I—…” He felt his throat closing up and had to breath from his mouth. He couldn’t believe what had just happened and he was scared, scared of what would happen from here. “Love, I just wanted to help.”
“No, it’s okay… I can do it myself.” You gave him a smile, a smile that Charles knew was just a smile to ask him to leave you alone.
“No, let me help you. Please?” He slowly took the cotton pad from your hand.
“It’s okay, I can do it myself. You can take your rest, I won’t take up your time. I’ll be quite I promise.” You gave him a smile, the same one that didn’t reach your eyes.
Charles knew he messed up but he never thought what he did last night would make you completely shut him off. You used to seek for comfort in him whenever you were in pain, now he was asked to be away because you thought you were taking up his time.
“You didn’t take up my time. I’m your boyfriend I should be the one helping you. Give me that.” He took the cotton pad back from your hand and he leaned in to carry you up, one hand supporting your back and another one behind your legs out from the bathroom and headed to the room. “Stay still, Y/N. It started to bleed again.”
“Charles, it’s okay. I can do it—“ You tried to take the cotton pad away from him but he retracted his hand before you could touch it.
“If you can take it from me then I’ll let you do it yourself.” He dropped the ointments onto the cotton pad and pulled his hand away when you tried to snatch on it again.
“Charles, I’m serious. Let me do it myself.” You let out a sigh knowing you could never win against him since you didn’t go through those reflex tests like he did for years.
“And I am not playing around too. Take it from my hand and I’ll let you do it, love.” He dapped the cotton pad on the cut a few times and placed it away. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah, that should be fine. I can put the wound plaster on my own.” You bended and was going to take the box of wound plaster that was on his side before he snatched it first.
“Too late. I got it first.”
“Charles..”
“There you go. All set.” Charles ignored your plead and threw away all plastics and used cotton pad away before taking a seat on your side. “Have you eaten?”
“Yes..”
“And what did you eat?”
“Something..”
“Yeah, right. I’ll order something.” Charles stood up to get his phone but you hold him arm before he walked away.
“I don’t want takeouts. Can you cook me your carbonara?”
“My infamous carbonara? That dish was put out of the menu, remember?” He took a seat back on the bed and was greeted with a forlorn look from you. “I think I can bring it back. Pretty sure it’ll taste better than my last attempt.”
He had asked you to stay put and you could hear all the ruckus going on in the kitchen. Charles loved to talk to himself whenever he cooked so you could hear “This is good. I’m such a good cook.” and “Carlos would be impressed if he tasted this.”
“Charles?”
“Yes, love? Am I taking a long time?” He turned around and saw you walked towards him while playing with your ring, the ring that he gave you. “What’s wrong?” He took your hands in his and brought it up to his lips and peck on the ring.
“I…”
“What is it, love?”
“I didn’t go out last night on purpose. My cramp hurt and I didn’t want to keep on pestering you. I swear on my life I wasn’t trying to ruin your night I was supposed to head out, bought the painkiller, went home, and slept.” You couldn’t look at your boyfriend in the eyes because deep down you were still reminded of his enraged look and whatever he said to you last night.
Charles pulled into a hug and kissed on the side of your head. “I know, baby. I know. I was wrong and I’m really really sorry. I didn’t know what took over me, I didn’t know why I was so mad. I know and I understand if you still can’t forgive me but let me take care of you.” He didn’t hear you say anything but he could feel your body started to shake as you cried in his arms. “I guess seeing you last night with all those cuts made me infuriated at myself and I took it out on you by thinking of the worst.”
He broke the hug and brought his upper body down to level his gave with your teary eyes and held your face as his thumb stroked on the freshly dropped tears on your cheeks. “I know everything I did can never be easily forgiven and I understand that. I’ll sleep on the couch if you don’t want me on the bed, I’ll leave you alone after this. Just stop thinking as if any of this was your fault and that you shouldn’t trouble me with your problems. I could cancel every schedule I have if it meant I could take care of my sick girlfriend. You are my responsibility.”
“I didn’t hurt myself on purpose. I was on my way home and—“
“I know what happened. That guy shouldn’t even ride a bicycle if he can’t control it.” He frowned in displeasure thinking about it.
“But he was nice.”
“Are you saying that the stranger is nicer than your boyfriend? He replied and made you titter in response. “On second thought, I am an asshole so he is probably nicer than me.”
You laid your head back on his chest and you could feel his arm snaked around your waist instantly. “You are not an asshole. You were tired. People say things they don’t mean when they are too tired.”
“That still doesn’t excuse my behavior last night, baby. Joris was fuming I feel like he would have choked me to death if it wasn’t for the staffs around the set.” He slid his hand under your oversized shirt and stroked on your skin.
“Well, serve you right.”
“Yeah, serve me right for treating my prettiest, softest, kindest girlfriend that way. I’m sorry, love.” He pulled away and planted a kiss on your forehead.
“Stop apologizing. I’m hungry.”
“Ah! My pasta! You distracted me. Anyway, I bought your favourite chocolates on my way home earlier but you said you didn’t want anything so I guess they are mine.”
“Can we share?”
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spicyspiders · 4 months
Text
open the door to another door
5+1 Ghost/Reader + Size Kink
13k words (the longest fic I've ever written).
Warning for canon-typical violence and lots of smut.
Thank you so much @stupidslavicguy for being my beta for the story :) <3
Simon was a giant man, so it really shouldn’t be all that surprising he had a dick to match his stature. It was long, thick, and slightly curved to the left. The color of it almost matched Simon’s face too, a fact that you were sure would make it hard in the future to look at him and not think of. 
“Woah,” you breathed, mentally kicking yourself for such a stupid reaction. You pulled your eyes away to look at Simon, a small smile stretching out your lips.
“Sorry,” Simon murmurs in response, a blush darkening his face.
“Sorry? For what?” Your hands cupped Simon’s face so your eyes could meet his. 
“I haven’t always gotten,” he pauses and lets out a sigh, “the best reaction,” he finishes, the words coming out quickly. 
“It’s,” you look back down, “intimidating I’ll admit,” your eyes go back to Simon’s before continuing, “but we get shot at almost daily. “This,” you take one of your hands away and wrap it around the hard length, “isn’t going to scare me off.”
Simon lets out a breathy noise as you give a slow pull on his cock, “yeah?”
“We’ll just have to go slow until I can take it all.”
“You still want it? All of it?” Simon asks, his hips pushing forward as your pace goes faster.
“Yeah–” Simon cuts you off as he swoops down to press his lips to yours. Your teeth clack together, but Simon makes it easy to ignore the pain as the sound of the moan he lets out fills your ears. Your lips stay locked even as Simon pushes you back, and then onto the bed when it hits the back of your legs. 
“I’ll make it good,” Simon breathes as he gets your pants and underwear down. His mouth is against yours once more as he wraps one of his large hands around both of your cocks, “get you open and ready,” he says when he pulls away again. 
“You’re gonna ruin me for anyone else,” you say around a moan. You couldn’t tell the future but were almost 99 percent sure of it.  
“That just means I get you all to myself,” Simon’s head moves down to your neck to suck a dark bruise into the flesh. His fingers tighten and your hips jump as you feel the edge approach. 
Simon lets out a shaky breath against the skin of your neck before his mouth is at your ear, “you can help me too,” he whispers into your ear. “I can never get the angle right when I try it myself.”
“Fuck, Simon,” you moan, one of your hands going to his hair to pull his face up so you can smash your lips on his, “gotta show me,” you say when you pull away. You fall over the edge to the thought. At first, it was building to the feel of his cock against yours, and knowing that soon, his big cock would be inside you. But now, it was also to the images flashing through your mind of Simon laid out on his bed with his thick fingers pressing deep inside himself, and his sweaty forehead pressed against his bedspread as he tried to get his fingers against his prostate. 
Simon came after you did in white splatters against your chests. You almost immediately regretted not getting your shirt off as most of it ended up on your chest, “sorry,” Simon whined as his cock pulsed and shot out white ropes, one of them just missing the bottom of your chin. 
“Was the hickey not enough?” You question, looking down to watch Simon’s cock shoot out spurts of white. “You’ve got to mark me like this, too?”
“Can’t help it,” Simon whimpers as the aftershock takes over. Your cock gives a twitch when the last of his mess ends up dripping onto your cock. He ducks his sweaty forhead into the crook of your neck to press against the mark he left there. 
“I’m only teasing,” you respond, and place one of your hands to the back of Simon’s neck to run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. “As long as the others don’t see.”
You let out a grunt as Simon lets his heavy weight rest on top of yours. He lets out a sign of contempt that nearly sounds like a purr, “you think they’ll get jealous?” He asks. 
You laugh quietly, “we’d probably just never hear the end of it.”
Mouth
For the time being after that, you tried your best to keep what you had to yourself. As you suspected, it was easier said than done. It’s not like you were fooling around in other places around the base that weren’t your respective bedrooms, so you wouldn’t have to worry about that. What you did have to worry about was things that were more out of your control, like the absolute looks of longing you could see on Simon’s face whenever you would catch him staring. 
Gaz and Soap were the first ones to pick it up. You honestly thought what gave it away was the dark mark on your neck Simon had left a week before, but it wasn’t until after it had healed that you were cornered by them. 
It nearly looked like something from a horror movie the way they had matching smiles on their faces as they backed you into the corner of the kitchen. So close, yet so far from the pick-me-up you needed after rolling out of bed.  
You turned, armed with a mug and a few hours of sleep as you heard them walk up behind you, “I was about to knock you out! Don’t sneak up on me like that,” you hissed, your other hand covering your racing heart. 
“You wouldn’t have gotten us both,” Gaz nodded at Soap, “it’d break on his hard head.”
Soap swatted at the back of Gaz’s head, his smile falling from his face. However, When he looked back in your direction, it was back. 
“Was Simon too tired to come with you to the kitchen?” Soap questioned. 
“I haven’t seen him today,” you glanced over at Gaz, “I just woke up.”
“Didn’t you wake up next to him?” Gaz asked. 
Your brows furrowed as you looked between the two men and let out a laugh before responding, “I don’t have sleepovers like you two do.”
“They’re not sleepovers!” They both respond, making you laugh harder.
“Sorry, sorry. I forgot you call it spending the night,” you say as you set the mug down. 
“You still haven’t come to one, but we understand now,” Gaz says, and the two share a glance. 
If it was possible, your eyebrows would go lower to show your confusion, “understand what?”
“You can’t come,” Soap’s smile grows into a toothy smile, “because you’re dating,” he proclaims loudly. 
You slap a hand over his mouth, “we aren’t dating,” you hiss. Soap’s eyes go wide before they fill with mischief, “if you lick my fucking hand I’ll–”
“Easy,” Gaz says, one of his hands going to your shoulder, “we’re just wondering,” Gaz pulls his hand away when you glare at him. 
Soap pulls your hand away from the wrist, “we’re just happy we didn’t need to have the intervention we were planning.”
You don’t even want to ask, and you blame it on your lack of sleep when you feel your mouth form around the question, “intervention?”
“We could only watch the man pine for so long,” Soap responds. 
“Pine?”
Not even answering your question, Gaz responds, “you both can come the next time we spend the night,” his voice full of excitement.
“Like a double date?” You ask, a slow smile stretching out over your face as you look between the two men. “He can only pine for so long!” You yell at their backs as they both turn and quickly leave. 
Compared to Soap and Gaz, when Price finds out and speaks to you about it, it’s much more awkward. 
It happens in the same place, but you’re a lot less cornered. If you wanted to, you could have just left and avoided the conversation, but it was better to just rip the bandaid off you guess. 
“So,” Price says, dragging the word out, “you and Simon.”
“Oh my god,” you say into the cabinet, “you too?” you ask as you slam your mug down onto the counter. 
“We don’t have to talk about it,” he clears his throat before speaking again, “as long as you two are happy,” he says, placing a hand on your shoulder. 
“Thank you for your blessing,” you respond sarcastically before turning to grab another mug. 
“Is that for Simon?” Price asks after you set the other one down. The smile you can hear in his voice has you tempted to throw it at him. 
“You’re going to the kitchen next time,” you say once you’re back in your bedroom and away from Price and the stupid smile plastered on his face.
“That bad, huh?” Simon asks from the bed. He looks way too good for someone who just woke up with his sleep tousled hair and sleepy eyes. “Where’s yours?” 
“I changed my mind,” you say, placing the mug on the bedside table on Simon’s side of the bed. 
“Want some of mine?” He asks. 
“I’m okay,” you respond, sending Simon a tired smile. It was like all of your energy drained away once you had gotten out of the kitchen. Waiting for the inevitable conversation with Price after the one you had with Soap and Gaz had you on edge, so now that it was all over, you just wanted to sleep it off and gain your energy back. 
It was still early in the morning and the sun had just started to rise for the day, so the only thing that illuminated the space was the lamp on your side of the bed. The warm glow made you sleepy, and the feeling only intensified when you were back under the covers. 
“I didn’t add anything to it,” you laid your head onto Simon’s shoulder, “had to get away from Price,” you said around a yawn. 
‘I guess that’s kind of my fault,” Simon places the mug down lightly before the arm you’re laying against rises to wrap around your shoulder. 
“They did say something about you pining, but I think we’re both to blame,” you smile up at him sheepishly. 
“I wasn’t pining,” Simon responds, scoffing. He looks down before a small smile appears on his face, “I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it,” he says quietly. 
“You’re not exactly easy to read,” you say, laughing fondly. “I thought you hated me at first.”
“You might’ve been reckless and headstrong and rushed into danger-”
“Okay!” You say, ducking out from under Simon’s arm to sit all the way up, “but?” You ask, waiting for Simon to say all the great things about you. After all, you get all of your tasks on  missions done, no matter how you tend to rush into danger and be reckless and headstrong like Simon just said. 
“But?” Simon asks in confusion. The expression melts away into a grin when you jab an elbow into Simon’s side, “but,” he rubs at his side, “you always come out on top. No matter how much it terrifies me.” 
His voice sounds like he wants to say more, but his mouth clamps shut and his eyes fall to his lap. You wait for him to continue, but before he does, he grabs at your wrists to pull you over into his lap. Your knees end up on either side of his legs, tangled in the sheets that pool around you. 
“On our first mission after you joined the task force,” Simon begins quietly, his eyes glued to the shirt you wore to bed, “when you pushed Johnny out of the way and took that bullet for him, for all of us,” he goes quiet again, one of his hands moving to your shoulder where the scar is, “I sat outside your room while you rested, waiting for you to heal.”
You don’t remember much of that moment, only remembering the bang out of the gun before you were tackling Soap onto the ground. It was all a blur after that, the pain medication making everything spotty and difficult to remember. 
What you could remember, or what you actually should say what you now realized from Simon’s words was that the shadows under your door that you thought you had been hallucinating in a medication filled haze was actually Simon.
“I thought you were a monster outside my door.”
“No, just me,” he runs his fingers softly over the cotton covering the scar, “Johnny kept laughing at me when he and the others would come check up on you,” he says quietly. 
“That was months ago, Simon,” you whisper, your fingers running back and forth along the back of his neck. 
“You’re still the same old guy,” Simon’s voice finds that same fondness again as his hand moves from your shoulder to cup your face, “but you’re mine now.”
You moved your hand from his neck to place it on top of his, “not much has changed, I guess,” you moved forward to press your lips to his to keep your mouth occupied and to keep it from saying the words at the tip of your tongue. 
Kissing doesn’t help, it actually only makes it worse. You love Simon, and you’re all his. 
You try again with another kiss, only to be met with the same outcome. At least while your mouth is occupied, it gives you less of a chance to let the words spew forth. 
Simon’s tongue tastes mainly of the tea he just drank, but also with a hint of minty toothpaste. He must’ve ducked out of your bedroom to brush his teeth while you were in the kitchen trying to avoid Price. You made a mental note to ask Simon what the combination tasted like. Maybe the minty taste would be hardly noticeable as it was washed away by the tea, or maybe it would combine to taste like how orange juice and toothpaste do. The thought makes you shudder. 
“Feel good?” Simon asks when he pulls away, 
“Yeah,” you breathe. You weren’t about to tell Simon that your reaction was to the thought you just had, and not his tongue. 
His hand moves to the back of your neck to pull you back into another kiss. His tongue was quicker than it was before to make its presence known. Simon’s cock also follows suit when you feel it poke at your hip. 
“Feel good?” You parrot, smirking when you see just how pink Simon’s face is.
You press your lips to the redness on Simon’s cheek before moving down to his neck. You’re tempted to do what he had done and leave a mark, but you had other wants. Instead, you simply press a kiss to one side, but let your lips linger. You pull away, but not before dragging your lips across his pulse before continuing lower. 
Simon’s legs spread to accompany your body, his feet all the way on either side of the bed. “Can I take these off?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes. 
Wordlessly, Simon nods before he raises his hips to make it easier. 
“No underwear,” you softly laugh once his shorts are gone. Laughing is an easy coverup to the nervous feeling that runs through your body. He wasn’t even fully hard, yet his cock was still impressive. And now, kneeling between his legs, this is the closest you have been to the largest cock you have ever seen. 
“Can I-”
“Anything,” Simon breathes, cutting you off, “you can do anything you want,” he ends, his cock giving a twitch against his stomach. 
You hear him gasp above you when you run your hands up his thighs and through the soft hair. The next noise he lets out is a low whine when your lips meet the head of his cock. It soon begins to thicken and fill with blood when you go lower and run your tongue up until you’re back at where your lips just were. 
You wrap your fingers around the base, the saliva from your tongue making it easy to bring your fingers to your lips after you take the head of his cock into your mouth. You wish you could take it deeper and get it into your throat, but the most you can take only has the head, and a little bit of the thick vein along the underside resting against your tongue. 
Simon doesn’t mind, at least that’s what you assume by the noises he’s letting out above you. You hear the soft sound of his head falling back into the pillows as you try to go lower. Not to your surprise, it feels as if you’ve barely taken any more of his cock before you feel your gag reflex threaten to bring tears to your eyes. 
To compensate for what you can’t take, your forearm lifts from the bed and your hand goes down to Simon’s balls. Your fingers roll his heavy sack and if cock wasn’t going to choke you, the load his full, heavy balls would shoot down your throat likely would. 
Simon lets out a groan, the noise going straight to your cock. Trapped in the confines of the shorts you had worn to bed, the most you could do was spread your legs to grind your cock against the mattress. The feeling distracts you from the suction you had on the head of Simon’s cock as it pulls a moan from your chest. 
Under the feelings of your hands and mouth on his cock, the added stimulation of the vibration has Simon’s hips twitching up off the bed. The action catches you both off guard, setting off your gag reflex before tears are spilling from your eyes a moment later. 
To your astonishment, Simon’s cock spills onto your tongue as you pull away. The feel of it twitching sends a wave of want through your body to take it deeper into your mouth until you can feel it twitch and throb in the wet heat of your throat.
You suck in air through your nose as you try to swallow all that his cock shoots onto your tongue. As you lay still, swallowing bitter waves of his come, Simon too lays still as you listen to his muffled moans hitting the pillow. It sends a rush of affection through your body knowing that Simon isn’t trying to accidentally choke you again, and the feeling then burns into lust at the noise of fingers balling up the sheets as he tries to hold back. 
You drag your hips into the bed as a reward for causing Simon such pleasure. You let out another moan at the friction to your cock, and Simon answers with one of his. His hands unclench from the sheets slowly as the aftershocks of his orgasm subsides, his cock softening on your tongue. 
You pull off his cock with a gasp and then feel one of Simon’s hands on your shirt pulling you up. He moves to kiss you, but stops once he sees the tear tracks on your face.
“You okay?” He asks softly, his thumb running through the tears to wipe them away. 
“Yeah,” you respond, sending him a small smile, “sorry.”
“For what?” He questions, his brows furrowing, “I made you fucking cry I-”
“It was an accident,” you say, quickly cutting Simon off, “I wanted to take more, but I couldn't.” Your voice goes quiet, but you’re not quite sure why you suddenly feel so embarrassed. You had just made Simon come hard enough to still feel the warmth of it in your stomach, you had no reason to be embarrassed.  
“You’ll get there,” Simon pulls your pants down low enough to hook the waistband below your balls, “then I’ll fuck your face,” he pulls you into a wet kiss, his tongue mapping out your mouth so he can taste himself on your tongue. His fingers wrap around your cock to stroke at the sensitive flesh, “you’ll take it so deep I’ll come straight down your throat.”
“That’ll take a long time,” you moan and glance down at Simon’s soft cock before you’re pulled into another kiss. 
“That’s okay,” Simon responds before giving you another kiss. “Wanna take my time with you,” he murmurs. His soft words are full of promise that sends a rush of excitement through your body that ends at your cock. 
White ropes of come shoot from the head, coating Simon’s fingers, and like the first time, also his shirt. You moan into Simon’s mouth as he kisses you again, making it hard to breathe as you gasp and try to keep up with the kiss. 
“You’re coming so hard just from my hand,” Simon observes quietly, “I wonder what it’ll be like when I get them inside of you,” his fingers from your softening cock to your balls. Two of them sneak beneath your waistband to rub at your taint. 
Much like Simon’s had earlier, your hips twitch forward at the feel of his fingers. You groan, more of your come dribbling out of the head of your cock as your aftershocks end. 
Dirty and spent, Simon wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest. Your soft cock rubs against his, pulling a gasp from each of you. 
“You’re sensitive,” Simon observes. 
You roll your hips into his, laughing around the gasp that falls from your mouth when Simon whimpers, “you are too.”
Hand
Wanna take my time with you. 
Those words ring through your head every time you both have had a moment to yourselves after that. Your free time was sparse, and you wanted to spend every moment of it that you could with Simon. It’s not like you had time to get Simon’s fingers inside of you slow enough for you to take his cock, but you learned quickly that there were other things you could do that you could both enjoy. 
You knew that you wouldn’t have time to slowly try and take his cock deeper into your mouth and then into your throat, but you also knew that your mouth could get his cock wet enough that Simon could fuck your fist. 
Simon groans when you get back onto your feet and pull him into a kiss, “you like how it tastes?” He asks after pulling his tongue free from your mouth. 
“Do you?” You ask back. You raise your other hand up to his mouth, “spit,” you command, not even letting Simon answer. 
He spits into your waiting open palm, keeping his eyes locked to yours, “good boy,” you whisper as you run the wetness on your palm across his cock. 
You had to be quick. You didn’t even know how long it would be before you were called onto another mission or task to complete. You had just gotten back from one just nearly an hour ago and didn’t even give yourself the time to pull your gear off before Simon was pushing his balaclava up enough to press his lips to yours in a heated kiss. 
It was intoxicating seeing such an intimidating looking man all decked out in his gear knocked down and only able to fuck your fist as he chased his pleasure. 
Your cock was hard and aching in the confines of your pants, and though one of your hands was free, you kept it where it was and continued watching Simon. Luckily, the display is something you can’t take your eyes away from, so you aren’t even wanting to touch your cock. 
“Wish we had more time,” Simon whines before you press your lips to his to swallow the noise. He moans into your mouth and when you pull away, his lips chase after yours. He lets out a loud noise of protest when you step away, the noise making you let out a quiet laugh. 
You come back holding a tube of lube, Simon’s eyes glancing down to it then back to your eyes. He stares up at you when you push him back onto the bed. It’s messy and the sheets and blanket are all crumpled, but you’re too focused on Simon to care. 
Simon makes a low noise in his throat when your hand returns between his legs. The lube makes it much easier to stroke up and down his cock, and the squelch of the lube rings out through the room. You rest your weight on his back and hook your chin over his shoulder to get a better picture. 
“Better?” You whisper into his ear. 
Simon leans back into your chest and fucks his hips up into the circle of your fist you’ve made for his cock. “It’s a little,” his voice breaks off with a moan before he continues, “cold,” he whimpers, his hips pumping up and down. 
You laugh softly before nipping at his lobe, “sorry sweetheart,” you coo, “I’ll keep some in my pocket so it’s always warm.”
Simon’s head falls back onto your shoulder when you tighten your hand around his cock. You’re not even having to move your hand, Simon’s hips are doing all of the work for you. 
“What’re you thinking about, Simon?” You ask. “Are you imagining its my hole you’re fucking and not my hand?”
Simon lets out a groan and the vibrations travel down his back to your cock where you’re kneeling behind him on the bed. The stimulation makes you gasp and your hips twitch forward into the rough material of his gear. 
“Yeah,” Simon moans, “thinking about your cock, too,” he says, his hips speeding up.
“Yeah? Where, baby?” You ask, the pet name slipping free on accident.
“In my-” Simon tries, but his answer breaks off into another moan. 
“In your mouth, or your hole?”
Simon’s answer comes in the form of another moan as he comes over your fist. You stroke him through it until his cock begins to soften and he lets out whimpers of overstimulation. 
You pull your hand away and Simon lets out another noise, the rest of his weight falling heavily onto your chest. You wipe your hand onto the sheets, trying not to grimace. 
“Did you just-”
“You want me to wipe it on your gear?” 
Simon’s head jerks up, the skin of his neck that you can see from where he pulled up his balaclava is red. He clears his throat before responding, “no,” he says quietly. 
You press your smile into the back of his neck, hearing the obvious lie in his voice. Your smile falls and your body tenses when you hear the sound of movement outside your bedroom door. 
“Get your gear back on, we need to go, Now.” Even when muffled through the door, Price’s tone sounds just as commanding as it always does. 
Thighs
You could admit that it was frustrating not being able to take care of your erection before you were whisked away to your next mission, but it was always something that lingered in the back of your mind. 
You could only let out a sigh when you heard the sound of Price’s boots walking away. Simon looked at you like he either wanted to cry, or he wanted to cry for you. You couldn’t help but feel annoyed as you looked down at him when you got off the bed, his soft cock still hanging out of his pants. 
To occupy yourself, which actually meant to make your fucking boner go away so the others wouldn’t see it, you walked out of the room to the attached bathroom. Not every base you were stationed at had one, but fortunately, this one did. 
“Don’t look at me like that,” you say to Simon when you’ve come back in with a wet cloth. 
“I wanted-”
You cut him off with a soft kiss, “we’ll take care of it later,” you say once you’ve pulled back. “Plus,” you run the warm cloth across his cock carefully before tucking it back inside his underwear, “I need this to go away, and hearing about all of the things you were going to do to me wouldn’t help.”
“You’re probably right,” Simon responds before he presses his lips to yours again.
Once you’ve been briefed and are in the transport, you feel Soap’s eyes on you. You glance over at him but quickly look away, not wanting to give him the reaction. You ball your hands up into tight fights, grateful for the gloves you wore to avoid the crescent moon marks that your nails would leave. 
You weren’t in the mood for his or Gaz’s words or looks, you just hoped the mission would go without a hitch. 
Once on the field, you let your frustration fuel your actions. You weren’t sure if it was necessarily smart or healthy, but it kept you focused. 
To no surprise of your own, you get shot at, which is normal, and do some shooting of your own. What does take you by surprise is when you feel a sharp pain hit your arm. Soap takes him down as you quickly apply pressure to the wound. You let out a sigh of relief when you’re able to find the hole in the wall where the bullet ended up, that’s the least you could ask for. 
When the mission is over and you’re back at the transport, you feel lightheaded, but you were going to blame that on how far you had to run, not from the blood loss. Under Price’s careful eye, Gaz patches you up lightly, knowing that it would soon be taken off once you were back on base before you took a shower. 
“All good,” Soap says when Gaz is done. He smacks lightly at the bandage and you swat his hand away. 
Simon, who was practically fucking vibrating with anger locks a hand around Soap wrist and pries it away. The noise Soap makes almost pulls a laugh from your chest, but you have more important things to focus on, like making sure Simon doesn’t fucking break Soap’s wrist. 
“It’s okay,” you say to Simon, wrapping a hand around his wrist, “you know Soap doesn’t hit that hard,” you reassure. 
“Hey!” Soap squawks, and this time, you can’t help but laugh at the noise. “Control your fucking boyfriend,” he grumbles, rubbing at his wrist when Simon lets go. 
You pull Soap’s wrist closer with your uninjured arm and look over the skin after pulling back the fabric that covers it. The redness of Simon’s grip is already nearly faded, “you’ll live,” you say and let Soap pull his hand away, looking like an injured animal about to go lick its wound.
You try your best to ignore the boyfriend comment, but every time you look at Gaz and Soap you’re reminded of it. You’re reminded of it not because of the close proximity of the two men, but because when you look at them, you’re reminded of your own relationship with Simon. No, Simon wasn’t fucking cradling your wrist in his hand like Gaz was doing with Soap’s, but the affection they showed each other made you think of your affection for Simon. 
You could now understand why they would give you such smug looks and then look at each other. At least you were actually injured, but you would let Soap have his moment. You shook your head and rolled your eyes at them when they looked at you. In turn, Soap sent a glare your way, but it quickly fell when you saw his eyes move away and look to Simon. 
Once back at base after all of the excitement has gone down, Simon acts as if he’s your shadow. You even had to push him by the shoulders out of the doorway to close the bathroom door. Not that you didn’t want to shower with Simon, you wanted to have a moment to yourself to breathe. 
The water at your feet runs red once you’re under the warm spray, though, it doesn’t take long for it to lighten to a pinker shade before it runs clear. You press your forehead to the cool tile and your eyes slip shut. You breathe in and out slowly, struggling at certain intervals when the water makes the wound on your arm sting. 
You clean yourself slowly, slower than you normally do before you turn the spray off. You dry off and put a clean, dry bandage over the injury under the fluorescent lights of the bathroom. A small jostle of pain runs through your arm as you put a shirt on, but you’ll take that over something that could have been much worse. Thankfully, it’s easier to put your pants on. 
You let out a sign as you place your hand on the doorknob, not knowing what to expect from Simon on the other side. 
He stands in the middle of the room, his arms crossed over his chest. He’s at least dressed down a little bit, with just his undershirt and pants being the remnants of the rest of his gear. He steps up to you quickly, panting. He must have been pacing, you thought, trying to let out the rest of his energy. 
“I’m-”
“Don’t!” He barks, cutting you off. When you both  flinch at his tone, he lets out a heavy  sign before he speaks again, “just let me check, please?” He asks quietly. 
“I just put on a new bandage,” you say, holding your arm out. 
He inspects it closely, holding it in careful hands. You feel a laugh bubble up in your chest when he holds your arm up to inspect the underside of your arm. A smile makes its way onto your face, but when Simon puts your arm down, he looks like he’s about to break down. You don’t even want to think about how he looked when he was waiting outside of your bedroom door. 
“Come here,” you command softly, opening your arms so Simon’s chest can fall onto yours as he buries his face into the side of your neck. 
You feel his breath on your neck as he breathes you in and holds you close. His arms are almost too tight around you, but you don’t say anything. When the silence does break, it’s from Simon, “if something would have happened to you-”
“Nothing happened to me, Simon.”
You couldn’t see his face, but could practically feel his eyes looking down at your arm.  
You brought your arm up to Simon’s head to run your fingers through his hair. It was wild and messy from where he had pulled off his balaclava. “It only grazed me.” After a few moments more of silence, you put some pace in between your bodies, just enough to place both of your hands on his shoulders, “I’m still here.” 
“I couldn’t be here if you weren’t,” he responds softly, his eyes looking away from yours. 
The words hit you hard, and there’s a voice in the back of your head saying you could say the same thing about him. When the words do come out, they aren’t the same as is, but you hope they put across the same meaning.
“I love you.”
Simon’s eyes widen as they look back up at yours. He claims your mouth in a kiss that has you feeling lightheaded again when he pulls away. “I love you,” he pants around the words when he says them, but repeats them over and over again as he backs you into the bed.
Simon wastes no time getting you naked before he’s ripping off the rest of his gear. When you’re both fully naked, you’re sent back to earlier in the day and you’re reminded of what you didn’t get. It gets you dizzy how quickly you get hard, but your hands stay wrapped around Simon’s neck as you keep kissing and kissing and kissing. 
“Can I try something?” Simon asks, panting after he pulls back from the kiss. 
It takes a minute for your brain to catch up and answer his question, but you give a quick nod after a few seconds. You sit down on the edge of the bed and watch as Simon opens the drawer to the bedside table and pulls out the bottle of lube you had used earlier. You almost expected Simon to get behind you on the bed and have a repeat of what happened earlier, but instead, Simon commands you in a soft voice to roll over. 
He presses a kiss to the side of your neck after he gets on top of you, and you smile into the comforter when he presses another one to the other side. His hands bring your thighs together before you hear the sound of the lube being opened. 
You let out a gasp when his wet cock is slowly making its way in between your thighs. Simon was right, it was cold. It heats up quickly though as Simon slides his cock back and forth in your thighs. His cock nudges your balls on each thrust that he gives, making you let out muffled moans into the bedspread. 
When you turn your neck, Simon presses his lips to yours. You let out a noise at the loss of air, it wasn’t like you were going to break the kiss to tell him you had turned your head to breathe, not for him to kiss you.  You could just breathe when the kiss was over, that would be okay.
When Simon pulls away, his hips still. You raise your ass up to be able to wrap your fingers around your cock, but Simon grabs your upper arm to pull it away. 
“Let me,” he says beside your ear before his hand replaces yours. 
“You’re going to crush me,” you respond, moaning as Simon bites into the side of your neck. 
“Do you not think I’m strong enough to hold myself up?” He asks, laughing in your ear. 
You knew he would be, but Simon was still a big man. Yes, there were times where the thought of Simon’s weight on top of you turned you on, but you didn’t exactly want to test out if you’d feel the same way after losing blood from an injury. 
“We’ll see,” you respond, hiding your smile into the bed. 
Simon’s huff hits the back of your neck before he keeps going. He grunts into your neck as his pace picks up. Occasionally, the slap of skin on skin rings out through the room, but each time the sound does, Simon slows down and places a kiss on whatever inch of skin he can reach. 
It gets to the point where you nearly want to yell back at him, to beg him to go faster, but when you open your mouth to do just that, a moan spills out as your orgasm hits you. It comes as a surprise as you spill over Simon’s fist. You press your face into the bed to muffle your yells of pleasure as you’re finally able to have the release you craved.
You turn your neck again to breathe, but this time, Simon doesn’t claim your mouth in a kiss. Instead, he pulls his cock from your slick thighs and tugs at his cock. Your skin doesn’t even have time to cool before Simon is shooting ropes of white that land on your thighs, ass, and back. 
For what feels like a long time, Simon stays kneeled above you, even after you fall onto the bed. You thought after you did, that Simon would rest his weight on top of yours and crush you into the bed, but the next time you feel him on you is when his mouth is on your thighs. 
He licks at the skin where his come landed, continuing up your body until he reaches the small of your back. He does the same at the small of your back before he moves down to the globes of your ass. His saliva cooling on your skin makes you shiver, and you press back on shaky legs into his touch. 
You doubt any of his come had landed on your hole, but Simon still spreads you apart licks with broad strokes. Your soft cock gives an interested twitch, still coated in the mess you made as you make a low noise in your throat.
Simon pulls away once he’s deemed you’re clean. Your hips meet the wet spot again, but you’re too tired to even move away from it. After he’s crawled back up your body, Simon does the work for you and rolls your back into his chest. 
“I should probably go shower,” he murmurs into the back of your neck as he tangles your legs together. 
“I’ll keep your spot warm,” you respond around a yawn. 
Simon presses a kiss to your cheek before he leaves. You’re even too tired to crane your neck and watch his ass as he walks the few steps to the bathroom. You fall asleep to the muffled sound of the shower, missing when Simon whispers a soft thank you when he gets behind you in the bed, his spot nice and warm. 
Just the tip
It feels as if Simon barely touches you for the next few weeks until your arm is nearly fully healed. Near the end of it, when your injury has scabbed over, it gets to the point you feel yourself getting hard when Simon lets his touch linger. 
It leaves you feeling so fucking needy that you’re stupid for it. Stupid enough you convince Simon to spar with you. Simon was a big fucking man, and though he was big, his size didn’t slow him down. He was faster and quieter than most people expected, information that he used to his advantage whenever he could. 
“Take him down!” Soap yelled from the side, stealing your attention away. You think Soap was still angry about his wrist.
Simon fixes you with a heated look that’s a mix of the glare he gave Soap, and determination. It takes everything inside you to not get hard. 
Simon charges at you, but you stand your ground. You dodge out of the way before going back in, Simon had bulk and he was quick, but you knew you could use that against him. Or so you thought. He’s quicker than you are,  easily getting his leg between your own to trip you up. 
You go down hard. Though there was a training mat laid out, falling onto the arm that was grazed by the bullet a few weeks ago didn’t feel good. You don’t even notice the stab was broken and you were bleeding again, until Simon’s eyes zero in on it. 
You glance down at it before you get back into position. You’re ready to charge, but Price places a hand on your shoulder, “as much as Soap wants to see you take him down, I don’t want you to get blood on the mat.”
You let out a huff, but you suppose he was right, “fine,” you grumble. You grab your towel and water bottle before exiting the room to your bedroom.
“This isn’t over,” you hear Soap say behind you, and don’t see the way he points a finger in Simon’s direction. 
Soap jogs up to your side before he’s grabbing your arm, “you okay?” He asks.
“I’m fine,” you respond, trying to keep your annoyance from your tone. You shrug your arm from his gasp before you walk through your bedroom to the bathroom to get to the medicine cabinet. 
You swat his hand away when he tries to help and he scoffs loudly before finally giving up. “Want me to beat him up?” He asks.
You make eye contact with him in the mirror before you look away to finish placing the bandage on your arm after cleaning the area, “as funny as that would be,” Soap’s face scrunches up in offense, pulling a laugh from you, “he took me down fair and square.”
“It was a dirty play,” Soap responds. He jumps when a throat clears from behind you, “see you later!” He says quickly and claps you on the shoulder before leaving the bathroom and exiting your room.
Simon watches Soap the entire time, only turning to look your way when he’s exited the room.
You walk out of the bathroom as Simon goes to shut the door, “don’t start,” you say once Simon has turned around. 
“You were bleeding,” Simon says softly as he steps close enough to grab your arm to inspect it. This close, he smells of deodorant and clean sweat, it’s intoxicating. 
“I didn’t even notice at first,” you place a hand on his face, “not until you were staring at it,” his face still looked stormy with negative emotions. “You were just trying to distract me so you could win,” you add, hoping that your joke would make him feel better. 
It works a little bit with the small smile that appears on Simon’s face, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, “you almost had me,” he says before he lets your arm go. 
“Let’s finish it then,” you step closer until your chest is flush with his, “we’ve got the space,” you whisper against his mouth. 
Simon opens his mouth as if he wants to protest, but you cut him off by mashing your mouth to his. He goes easily when you flip him around and push him onto the bed. Still connected at the mouth, Simon goes down with a grunt that breaks off into a moan when you push your tongue past his lips. 
Realistically, it hasn’t been that long since you’ve gotten off, but without it being from Simon’s touch, it doesn’t take too long for your cock to be straining against the front of your shorts. 
You were surprised you were even able to get him to spar with you. Maybe it was because Price, Soap, and Gaz were also in the room and he was trying to avoid Soap and Gaz from being able to make jokes about there being trouble in paradise. Or maybe it was because he missed your touch just as you missed his, even though he was the one that established this unspoken rule that he was going to avoid touching you until your arm had fully healed. 
You had fun on your own, and even found entertainment in being loud enough for Simon to hear. There had also been times where it excited you over the idea of being caught, and whenever the feeling hit you, so did your orgasm. The clarity that came afterwards nearly made you forget, but it would always rush back when Simon would enter the room. 
It was always pretty obvious what you had been doing, from the salty smell of your come in the air, to sweat that shone against your skin as you cooled down from your high. You thought that the site would bring Simon closer, but it only made him keep his distance. It hurt at first, but after picking up on the looks he would give you and the way his chest would expand slowly after he would enter the room, like he was trying to relieve what you were just doing through the smell alone, it just made you want him even more. 
It drove you crazy with want and frustration, but at least Simon felt the same. 
“Don’t want to hurt you,” Simon grits between his teeth, like the moan he lets out is actually one of pain when you grind your hips down into his.
“I need it,” you whine into Simon’s mouth. Your need only gets worse when Simon’s hands go below your waist band to clutch your asscheeks in his hands. It’s a tight grip that’s almost too painful, but that pain is overtaken by pleasure when Simon grinds your hips together.   
You pull back from the kiss when Simon’s hands push the garment away to have better access. You raise yourself and look at Simon with lust filled eyes as you pull your shirt off. Your shorts are more difficult than your shirt, but it becomes much easier when Simon rolls you over and he’s on top helping you get them off. 
“What would you have done if you’d have gotten hard while we were-” he begins to ask when he sees your lack of underwear, but you cut him off with a kiss. 
“Hopefully this,” you answer, sliding your hands up his shirt. 
Simon claims your mouth in another kiss when you pull his pants off and throw them to join the pile of the rest of your clothes. He takes your lip with him with his teeth, “quiet,” he says against your mouth, knowing that you were about to comment on how he didn’t have underwear on either. 
You wrap your legs around his hips, high enough that when Simon grinds forward, his cock is sandwiched between your asscheeks. When he pulls back and brings his hips forward again, you both groan as the slick head of his cock catches on your hole. 
On the second pass of the head, his hips still, making you whine in protest, “please.”
Simon groans like your words hurt him, “I can’t. I haven’t gotten you ready with my fingers,” he says, his hands cradling your face. 
“Just the tip?” 
“Just the tip?” Simon parrots, his eyes light up, like your question caused a lightbulb of realization to light up above his head. 
If you thought it was crazy convincing Simon to spar with you, it felt as if you were out of your mind when he pushed your legs down and rolled you over. 
You lay with bated breath for Simon and bring your ass back closer to Simon. You arch your back and you’re almost to the point of losing all self respect and pulling your hands free from under the pillow and bringing them to your asscheeks and spreading them open.
“Breathe,” Simon whispers into your ear after he leans down. 
You don’t even realize how tense you’ve become until Simon’s whisper hits your ear. You let out a whine into the pillow when Simon’s cock is on your hole, rubbing the moisture of his precome around your hole. To add to it, Simon spits on your hole and rubs it around the tight pucker with the pad of his finger. 
You both gasp when he finally presses the head inside, “so tight,” Simon moans, his body blanketing yours. The sheen of sweat on your body makes it hard, but he grips your hips tightly in a bruising grip, keeping you still. 
You squirm against his grip, trying to get his cock deeper, even though you know you shouldn’t without the proper preparation. You could feel that your orgasm was there, all it needed was a little push. 
“Stop!” Simon holds you down into the pillow by the back of your neck, his tone sharp. 
His words make you freeze and you clench around what’s inside you. It makes Simon groan and pull his hand away to instead put it on the middle of your back. His other hand moves from your waist to below his cock. In between your balls and his cock, he presses his fingers to your taint. 
You come with a yell into the pillow, Simon’s hand pressing you down into the bed as you shake from the intensity. His other hand moves the tiny distance from your taint to wrap around his cock. 
He leans down into the crook of your sweaty neck to muffle his moans as he strokes his cock. It doesn’t take him long for him to come and once he does, you moan when you feel his spend hit your hole. Some of it goes in your hole, but the most of it splatters and leaks out, going down your taint right where his fingers just were. 
“You’re filthy,” he says, his voice deep and rough. 
You turn your head to pant open-mouthed, your cheek against the pillow. You wanted to repeat the same thing right back at him, but your brain has difficulty getting your mouth to get the words out. 
Your brain finally does catch up when you feel the bed shift as Simon leans down to lick at your hole. “You’re fucking filthy.”
“At least I clean up the messes I make,” he says before going back in. Unlike last time, his tongue goes inside as he licks out the mess his cock made. He groans deep in his chest when you bring one of your hands back to his head to get his tongue deeper. 
When Simon deems you clean, your hole now wet with spit, you pull him by the hand in his hair up to where you can get your lips against his. You make a noise into his mouth when his tongue presses inside, past your teeth until his tongue is against yours. 
“We should probably go shower,” Simon murmurs, though he really doesn’t look like he wants to, laying on the pillow beside yours.
You run a hand down his back. You’ll get up and take a shower after you’ve rested your eyes for a little bit. You feel Simon press his lips to the bandage on your arm before you feel the weight of his arm around your body as it pulls you closer.  
Hole
Normally, when it was time for you to go home, you were always excited to finally get back, but when Price finally told you that it was time for a much needed break that wasn’t on base, you were terribly nervous.
You thought it would be okay, it’s not like you and Simon had spent every waking moment together, but the feeling that hit you when Simon turned in the opposite direction of your bedroom to go pack up his own, you knew it wouldn’t be okay.
You stayed silent when Simon came back into the room with one of his suitcases, and when he went into your dresser to pull out a few of the shirts he brought from his room to yours, you bit hard into your lip, fearful of what might come out if you opened it.
“I don’t have much, but I hope you’ll have the space for it,” he says as he folds the clothing before placing it in the bag. 
You froze from your place beside him, wondering if you heard what he said correctly, “what?”
“Do you have space in your closet? Or I can shove it in a drawer if you need me to,” he answers, not looking up from the suitcase as he finishes folding his clothes. 
“Yeah,” you shake your head softly and smile down at your hands as they rested on the clothes you still had to fold, “I’ve got plenty of space.” The clothes could wait, you decided. 
Simon makes a noise of surprise when you turn his neck and press your lips together. His hands move to your waist to pull you closer as he responds eagerly to the kiss. He chuckles softly after he pulls back and you chase after his mouth. 
“We have to finish packing,” he says against your mouth. 
“We’ve got time,” you respond. Not really, but kissing Simon was much more enjoyable than packing. 
After the impromptu make out session that had to be cut short before your hands were down each other’s pants, it’s finally time to go. 
You let out a dramatic sigh when Soap steps up to you to say goodbye. You can’t quite tell if the way his bottom lip trembles is actually real, or if he’s just trying to be funny. You pull him in for a hug before you can think more on it. 
Gaz, who you had just hugged, joins in to sandwich your body between theirs. You nearly expect Simon and Price to join in, but they only stare at you. Simon just looks bored, whereas Price has a small smile on his face. 
When you’re on the plane, one of Simon’s hands finds yours, and his fingers rest on top of yours until it’s time to get off. 
Your key feels foreign in your fingers, but once you’re through the door, it all feels familiar. The air feels stale, but that’s something you could easily fix the next day by opening up the windows. 
It’s nighttime. It feels oddly permanent the way night always does when it feels like the rest of the world is settling in. The world being your area, at least. The feeling really only hits you at home. Back on base, it didn’t matter what time it was, you could be whisked away at any time to do what was asked of you.
“I’ll save the tour for tomorrow,” you tell Simon as you walk through your house to the bedroom. You almost want to slow down to make sure Simon is able to follow you through the dark, but the sound of his footsteps stays close behind you. 
You flick the light on and place your bags into a corner of your room. You grab your bathroom essentials before walking past Simon, letting out a laugh when you see the way he’s looking all around the room. 
You wait for Simon to join you as you toss your toothbrush into the cup near the sink and toothpaste onto the counter, “you can finish looking around if you want,” you say when you hear Simon enter. 
“I’ll wait for the tour tomorrow,” he responds as he wraps his arms around you. He hugs you to his chest for a moment before placing his toothbrush and toothpaste in the same spots you had. It makes your heart swell. When you arrived back on base, you didn’t expect to be coming home with another toothbrush sitting beside yours when you arrived home. 
You help each other undress before you’re stepping into the shower. It’s wet limbs and pointy elbows under the warm spray. You expect it to get on your nerves when Simon ends up accidentally elbowing you, but it only makes you laugh. Even after it happens again and Simon’s face is going red (but that’s just probably from the heat), you feel nothing in your heart but love. 
“Fuck,” you say under your breath after pulling the curtain back, “forgot the towel.” Your nipples grow hard from the change in temperature when you open the door and go through your bedroom to grab a towel from your bag. You could’ve checked under the sink, but you were going to wash everything in your bag anyway, so it really didn’t matter. 
Simon stands naked in front of the sink brushing his teeth. If he wasn’t so fucking good looking, you’d be annoyed as he dripped all over the bathroom rug in front of the sink. You towel off quickly in the doorway before he’s able to catch you staring.
“Cold out there?” He asks around the toothbrush, one of his hands going to your chest to pad his thumb across one of your hard nipples. 
You swat his hand away and step around him to pull on the shirt and shorts you also brought with you, “forgot to adjust the thermostat,” you say as you grab your toothbrush. 
Simon’s toothbrush makes a soft noise when he places his back into the cup. You watch with a soft smile on your face as he places the cap on his toothpaste and puts it neatly beside the cup. 
“Are you going to watch me?” You ask, your toothbrush held close enough to your mouth to smell the minty paste. 
“Yeah,” Simon answers, saying it like it’s the easiest question in the world to answer. He grabs the towel you just used and dries himself off as you brush your teeth.  
Back in your bedroom, you suddenly feel shy. Turning off the light makes it easier, especially with how sad it makes you to see Simon cover himself up. It’s only a pair of underwear, but still. In the dark, he finds your body as if on reflex and pulls your back to his chest. 
Simon lets out a sigh, his warm breath tickling the back of your neck, “what are we going to do tomorrow?” 
“Probably go get groceries after I check what’s left in the cabinets,” you respond as you run your hand up and down his arm. 
“Good. I think we left the lube back on base.”
“I’ll add it to the list,” you say around your smile.
You feel Simon press a kiss to the back of your neck. It makes you feel crazy knowing just a few minutes ago you had been nervous, and now, you were surrounded with a level of comfort you hadn’t felt in a long time. 
“I love you,” Simon whispers behind you. 
“I love you too,” you respond before you’re falling asleep. 
-
Soap calls a few weeks later. 
“Hello?” You asked into the phone. The caller ID said unknown, you probably shouldn’t have answered it in the first place.
Soap’s voice comes through the other line. Yeah, you shouldn’t have answered it. “Hey!” He says, his voice full of excitement. 
“Soap?” You hadn’t expected to hear from any of them so soon. “And Kyle!” You hear from a distance on the other side of the line. 
You were confused for a second before your brain was able to catch up, “hey, Kyle. Hey, Johnny,” you say, a smile coming onto your face. 
“How are you?” Johnny asks, “how’s Simon?”
“Good,” you glance over into the kitchen where Simon was, “we’re good. How’d you get my number?”
“Price gave it to us. He also told us to tell you that he was sorry. For whatever reason.”
You shook your head, your smile growing. You were sure you could forgive Price just this once. 
“Price? What, not on a first name basis?”
“Oh, we are. It’s just that I’m the better John so I refuse to call him that.”
You’re unable to contain the laugh that bubbles up from your chest, “I miss you guys,” you say into the phone once your laughter has died down. 
“Who do you miss more?” Johnny asks. 
“You ruined it,” you answer with a sigh. 
That sounded like he said Kyle,” you hear Kyle say. 
You’re tempted to hang up once you hear them start bickering, but with it being the most entertainment you’ve had since you got home, (outside of Simon) you stayed on the line and tried not to laugh too hard. You didn’t need to be roped up in their lover’s quarrel. 
“Trouble in paradise?” You ask. 
“Fuck off!” They both yell in unison. 
“Who was that?” Simon asks when you walked through the doorway of the kitchen. 
“Kyle and Johnny,” you respond as you lean against the counter. It looked like a tornado had gone through your kitchen with all of the cabinets being open, but you just blamed it on Simon still getting used to where everything went. Or maybe that was just how he liked to put things away. You were learning new things about each other every day. 
“How’d they get your number?” Simon asks as he chuckles. 
“Our commander betrayed me,” you said sadly. 
“You poor thing,” Simon responds. He closes one of the cabinets before he walks over to place a kiss on your cheek. 
“Gaz said he wants us to go on a double-date together,” you go to help Simon put the rest of the groceries away, but really it’s just because you want to stay close to him. 
“What kind of date?” Simon asks. 
“Don’t know,” you smile as you think back on what he said, “he said he thinks we’re lame for the walks we go on and we need more excitement.”
“I like our walks,” Simon responds, a hint of offense in his tone. It would be so easy to fall into a routine of staying inside the house, especially after how tiring the last few months were on base, so the walks were a great way to get outside.
“One night out won’t kill us,” you say as Simon finishes up with putting away the rest of what was in the bags, “at least I hope it won’t.”
“We have plenty of fun here,” Simon responds. The placement of his hands on your hips after he steps forward goes to show that he’s talking about a different type of fun. 
“That’s just with us-”
Simon cuts you off with a kiss that leaves you gasping, “I tend to keep it that way,” he says, his words full of heat and possessiveness.
It’s just another day when Simon finally gets his cock inside you. You weren’t really surprised though, it’s like you expected a grand romantic gesture with candles, rose petals, and chocolate. Truthfully, the only thing you expected was for a lot of lube to be involved.
Just from him getting you ready with his fingers, you feel fucking soaked from the lube. “Simon,” you whine when you pull away from the kiss his lips had you locked in, “we’re going to run out.” He ignores your words and swoops down to kiss you again.
“You didn’t buy any when we were at-”
“No!” You moan as his two fingers brush against your prostate, “I’ll never be able to get the lube out of these sheets,” you say as you feel the lube that drips down your taint joins the small puddle between your legs. 
“I’ll clean them, baby,” he says against your mouth, “just let me get you ready,” he whispers. You both hold your breath as a third finger, coated in too much lube in your opinion, presses to your hole. “ So fucking tight,” Simon looks down to watch his finger go slowly inside, “not going to last when I’m actually inside.”
“You won’t be able to get inside if you use all the lube,” you bite back. 
Simon chuckles, his other hand goes to one of your nipples to pinch it, “cheeky little fucker,” he growls. His fingers move in and out of you slowly, but at the sound of the moans you let out, the speed of the thrusts of his fingers increase. 
“I’m ready,” you say to Simon before he tries pressing in a fourth finger. The thought makes your cock throb against your stomach. With the pace Simon was going, you were sure he would slowly work you up to it, to take his entire fist and not just three of his fingers. 
The thrust of his fingers slows down before he pulls them out. Your hole feels open and ready for his cock, and you feel a rush of excitement when the wet head of it kisses your hole. Your legs tighten around Simon’s waist and you hold your breath in anticipation. 
Above you, Simon’s eye clamp shut as he breathed heavily through his open mouth, “are you ready, Simon?” You question as you reach your hands up to cup his face, “we can stop if you want,” you say softly. 
Simon leans down to press his forehead to yours, “don’t want to hurt you,” his voice comes out soft.  
“I can handle a bit of pain,” you say, a small smile on your lips. You lean up to press your lips to his in a chaste kiss.
“I know you can,” he responds with a small, sad smile. He moves down to press a kiss to the scar on your shoulder, and then to the scar on your arm. “I love you,” Simon whispers after he comes back up. 
“I love you too,” you say back, your arms wrapping around his neck. 
Simon smiles again as he reaches a hand down to press his cock against your hole once more, “I meant it about not lasting long,” his mouth falls open as his cock slowly goes inside as he inches his hips forward. 
“That’s okay,” you reassure, “I probably won’t either.”
“Yeah?” Simon asks, his cock still going inside your body, “I’ve wanted you for so long. Wanted this,” he moans as he finally bottoms out. 
“This is all yours, Simon,” you say back. You clench down on his cock, the both of you groaning from the feel of it. 
Simon pulls out almost as slowly as he went in. He keeps his eyes locked on yours when he pushes back inside. His balls rest heavily on your ass and it’s almost hard to comprehend that you finally get to have this. It brings you back to months ago when you first sucked his cock and the amount of come went down your throat. It’d probably leaked out of your hole as he came to join the mess of lube on the bed, but this was a stain you didn’t mind. 
As Simon’s thrusts pick up, you can already feel your edge approaching. The fat head of Simon’s cock hits your prostate, bringing you closer and closer to coming. Your hand goes between your bodies to wrap around your aching cock to stroke to the rhythm of Simon’s thrusts. 
The bed creaks as Simon fucks forward into your hot, willing body. The headboard bangs against the wall, and the volume of it matches the sounds you each make. 
Once you start stroking at your cock, it doesn’t take long for you to come. Your other hand digs into Simon’s back as yours arches off the bed, like you’re afraid the rest of your body will come off the bed too. Your mouth falls open into a soundless scream as your cock shoots ropes of white up your chest. 
Unaware that you closed your eyes, they open to watch Simon above you continue to thrust inside your body. You pull your hand away from your cock, the mess of your orgasm evident on not only your chest, but Simon’s as well. Mixing with your spend is the sweat on Simon’s skin as his pace increases before stuttering off. 
Simon’s thrusts come to a halt before he switches the position but moving your legs until they’re on your shoulders. His eyes are droopy and filled with lust as he raises himself up onto his knees enough to watch his thick cock disappear into your hole. 
“Simon,” you call, a smirk appearing on your face when Simon doesn’t pull his eyes away, “Simon,” you repeat. “Feel good, baby?” 
Simon nearly folds you in half when he leans down to kiss you, his tongue fucking into your mouth like his cock was. He pulls away to answer, but all he can muster up as he moans is an enthusiastic nod. 
“Gonna come for me?” You ask, your hands going to cup Simon’s face. When Simon starts up his brutal pace again, you almost think you’re about to get hard again as his cock goes deeper than it was before, but Simon’s stuttered pace continues before his head falls back. His hips come to a halt as his heavy balls draw to his cock as he pumps you full of his come. 
Simon’s head falls to your shoulder as wave after wave of his orgasm washes over him. His moans turn to whimpers as his hips give an occasional twitch as the aftershocks set in. You don’t feel him pumping you full of his come like you had thought of earlier, but you can sure feel the way his cock throbs and twitches before it starts to soften. 
Simon grunts when he moves your legs off his shoulders, his soft cock falling free from your hole. He presses a kiss to your ankle when he puts down the second. He falls down on top of you in a sweaty heap, your body having no choice but to take his weight. 
It soon sets in how gross you feel from the sweat all over your body and the drying come and lube on your skin, but when you start to feel his come leaking from your hole, a warm feeling rushes through you. 
You feel Simon let out a chuckle above you, “I’ll need some time before I can go again,” he says after your cock gives a twitch at the feel of his come leaking out. 
“It’s not me,” you respond, one of your hands running up and down Simon’s sweaty back, “it’s got a mind of its own.”
Simon laughs again as he rolls off of your body and onto one of the pillows, “you okay?” He asks softly, one of his hands runs up your chest. 
“Yeah,” you say, sending him a smile. You turn on your side to face him and place a hand on his cheek, “are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he responds as he leans into the touch. “I’ve never done that before,” he says quietly. “Never been inside someone, I mean.”
“Yeah? Have you ever had anyone inside of you?” You ask, your voice just as quiet. 
“Just my fingers,” he responds, a blush rising on his cheeks below your fingers. 
“I’ll take care of you like you took care of me,” you respond. Your cock gives yet another twitch at the fact that you’re learning you have been and will be Simon’s first. A hot flare of possessiveness and jealousy runs through your body all at the same time. Knowing that someone has gotten to have Simon in the way you’ve had him and made him feel insecure enough to warn you about the size of his cock makes you angry. You would make sure to never make him feel like that.  
“I know,” he responds before pressing his lips to yours. Before the kiss can become wetter and more open-mouthed, he pushes you onto your back by your shoulder before he makes his way onto your chest to lay down. 
You let out a grunt at the weight but you wrap your hands about him to keep him close. One of your hands traces imaginary patterns onto his back, while the other goes to his head to run your fingers through his hair. 
“Before we go out with Johnny and Kyle,” Simon’s voice goes quiet and shy, “I want to take you out on a real date. Just the two of us.”
“We can do that,” you say around a yawn as your exhaustion sneaks up on you and your eyes fall shut. The last thing you feel before falling asleep is Simon’s smile against your shoulder and his soft lips against the scar as he kisses the skin.       
Bonus
“Ready?”
Simon gives a nod against the pillows. You could tell he was nervous based on how tense he felt, but his face didn’t show it. 
“It’s okay to be nervous,” you say to him quietly before leaning down to kiss him. 
“Not nervous,” Simon responds, but his face finally gives it away when a blush rises up his face, “just excited,” he whispers. 
You laugh against his mouth,” I can tell,” you say after pulling back, your eyes on his half hard cock. You run a finger from his balls to the head of his cock. Once at the head, you drag your finger through the precome at the slit, and when you pull your finger away, a string of his precome follows your finger. 
That finger is the same one you use to work Simon open. You don’t use as much lube as Simon had with you when he first fucked you, but you made sure you had plenty. 
Simon’s legs spread further, his feet nearly hanging off either edge of the bed. You run your other hand up and down his thigh soothingly when you press your finger to his hole, “ready?” You repeat.
“Yeah,” Simon whispers, and then your finger breaches his hole. 
He’s tight and warm around your finger as you go slowly inside. You keep a close eye on his face as you work your entire finger inside. Simon looks more relaxed than you expected him to be, but it’s really only because he’s hiding any discomfort behind the action of biting his lip. 
“Can I hear you?” You ask Simon before placing a soft kiss to his lips, “please?”
After Simon nods, you press another finger inside. His mouth opens as he lets out a whine, and when you crook your fingers, his whine turns to a loud moan. 
A slow smile spreads across your face, “feel good?”
Simon nods, but before he can respond, you press your fingers into his prostate again, just to hear him moan again. He finds his words when you pull your fingers free and replace the two with three, “what do I do?”
“Just lay there and let me take care of you, baby,” you respond. “Want me to touch you here?” You question, running your free hand over his cock. 
Simon lets out a groan when your fingers glide over his cock, “want your mouth,” he says, his hips raising off the bed. 
You lean down and run your tongue along the length of his cock, starting at the root, and ending at the tip. You moan when the flavor of his precome hits your tongue, as does Simon when you run your tongue around the sensitive glands on the crown of his cock. 
Simon lets out another moan when your three fingers are going inside of his hole. His hips move again, but this time, they’re moving to fuck down on your fingers. His cock lets out a glob of precome onto your tongue when your three fingers are on his prostate, and you press them to it over and over again to see if you can get some more of the taste. 
Instead, what you’re rewarded with is his cock gushing come into your mouth. It catches you off guard, but you do your best to swallow down what his cock lets out as the sound of his moans fill your ears. The sounds make your neglected cock throb, but you keep in place until Simon’s moans subside and his hole relaxes around your fingers. 
You pull your fingers free slowly and press a kiss to his hip bone when he whimpers. He pulls you up with a hand around the back of your neck to get his lips pressed to yours. Simon groans into your mouth when his tongue runs along yours, tasting himself all over your mouth. 
“Your turn,” Simon’s voice is rough and gravely, way too low in your opinion for a man that just had his first prostate orgasm and should be tired. 
“Are you sure? I can just-”
Oh, Simon was so sure. Sure enough in fact that minutes later, your cock is in his mouth.
He gets you sat on the edge of the bed and makes his way between your legs before taking your cock into his mouth. He had moaned at the flavor on your tongue when he had kissed you, so it was no surprise that when he got the head of your cock in his mouth, he was moaning around it as he tried to take you deeper and get the flavor further down on his tongue. 
You gasp when he puts your legs over his broad shoulders, to make it easier for his fingers to dip further down between your legs. You open your mouth to try and question him to see what he and his fingers are up to, but all you can do is let out noises of pleasure as Simon’s fingers go past your balls to skim over your taint. 
One of your hands sits stretched out behind your body, so you can stay up and watch the display of Simon’s lips stretched around your cock. The other hand goes into his head to run your fingers along his scalp, “so good, Simon,” you moan as your fingers run through the soft strands of his hair. 
Simon looks up at you with his dark, tear-filled eyes. They spill over when your hips twitch forward, feeding Simon more of your cock when Simon’s fingers go lower to brush the dry pad of his fingers across your hole. 
Your body bows over his head as your hands move to grip his shoulders tightly, trying to keep your body in place as your orgasm racks your body. Simon obediently swallows down what shoots from your cock as feelings of euphoria rushes through your body. 
You open your eyes as your body uncurls from around Simon’s head, panting as you try to calm your racing heart. “Fuck, Simon,” you whisper down at him as you wipe the tears away from his face. Your soft cock falls from Simon’s mouth with a wet pop before Simon is joining you on the bed. 
“You okay?” You ask Simon, his naked thigh resting beside yours. 
“I’m good,” he responds, his voice rough. A few minutes later, when Simon has you laid on his sweaty chest, he lets out a sigh before he speaks again, “I got a message from Johnny the other day.”
You raise yourself up on your elbow to look at him, “what’d it say?”
Simon rolls his eyes before answering, “that he’s excited for our double date.”
You lay back down onto Simon’s chest, laughing as he lets out another sigh, “why’d you agree to this again?” Simon questions as his warm hand settles onto your back to run soothing circles over your skin.      
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snowfll · 5 months
Text
A Soldier I Will Be; Treech
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pairing - Treech x mentor!reader summary - your one goal was to get him out of the arena, you didnt care what the Capital thought of you words - 2.54k warning - fluff! note - I am actually in love w Treech, there isn't enough fanfics about him on the internet so I decided to write my own! part 2 part 3
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The day arrived for the reaping of the 10th annual Hunger Games, and you were far from excited. The games are cruel and unfair to district citizens, and your values set you apart from the heartless enthusiasm displayed by many in the Capitol.
Walking into the giant room filled with Academy students, you heard the whispers of those you passed. You learned to ignore everyone after years of being treated differently, but there were only two people you could tolerate: Sejanus Plinth and Coriolanus Snow.
“Ms. Graham, I'm glad you made it after all.” Sejanus Plinth, the only other person open about their hatred for the games.
“Oh, you know they would drag me into this either way, Sejanus.” He had previously warned you that the Plinth prize would not be awarded that day, and in its place, something that goes against everything the two of you stood for.
Although you voiced your opinions, you were still a capital sweetheart. As you come from one of the oldest and richest families in the capital, you were expected to act a certain way, despite your rebellious spirit.
Sitting between Coriolanus and Sejanus, you heard a throat being cleared, signaling the beginning of the reaping. Casca Highbottom, the one and only creator of Hunger Games, chugged down a vial of what looked to be morphling.
“The prize is a bit different this year. The top performing students will each receive a tribute, only one, and whichever tribute… performs the best, will receive the prize. Winning is set aside but will be taken into consideration…”
So this is what the capital had planned—put the capital kids in charge of the district kids? You couldn’t help but feel horrible for Sejanus, coming from the districts, he was bound to be given a tribute from his old home, District 2.
Dean Highbottom started announcing which student would mentor what district. When it came to Sejanus, you were right; they gave him the District 2 male tribute. Reaching over, you grabbed his hand in hopes of providing a sense of comfort. On multiple occasions, he has expressed to you how being from the districts has affected him.
“District 7 male,” you heard Highbottom pause before looking up to you, “belongs to Ms.Graham.”
Making your way to the big screen in front of you, you saw your tribute. He was staring straight into the camera, almost like he could sense you were watching him. ‘Treech’, you read below his figure. You couldn’t help but smile, but it was soon replaced with a frown once you saw the condition he was in.
You took in the image of the boy; he seemed your age—maybe 17 or 18? The hat he wore looked bent out of shape and covered his dark eyes. He looked as if he were about to scream or cry, and he was trying his hardest to act tough in front of his district. All you felt was pity and a sense of needing to help him survive.
After all the mentors were given their tribute and a speech from Dr. Gaul, the head gamemaker, the ceremony was brought to an end. Sejanus was called by his father, and he bid you goodbye. “I’m going to the tributes train arrival, and you’re coming with me." You jumped at the sudden voice and turned around to see Coriolanus staring at you.
“And why would I?” You crossed your arms, unsure why he wanted you, of all people, to accompany him. Sure, you were friends, but you didn’t exactly see eye-to-eye on things, often bickering while Sejanus was there to calm you both down.
“The peacekeepers will let me in if you are with me,” he explained, knowing that most peacekeepers know not to mess with you. “They won’t turn you down; you’re the capital’s top sweetheart.”
It’s true; every peacekeeper knew of your existence and obeyed you in fear of upsetting your father. You didn’t like to take advantage of your capital status, but it did come in handy when you got into trouble.
“Fine,” you agreed, “but only on one condition: you leave me and my tribute alone.” Coriolanus nodded his head and explained that you two would meet at the train station the next morning before school.
₊˚。⋆❆⋆。˚₊
Arriving at the station, you walked up to Coriolanus, who was already waiting there with a white rose in his hand. Groups of peacekeepers were stationed every few feet. Guns in hand, ready to shoot at any kind of violent nature.
A loud whistle was heard, causing your head to snap towards the track, where a large mechanical train began to slow. Once the train pulled into the station, you took notice of the carriages; there were 12, one for each district. The peacekeepers that once stood still were now making their way towards the train. Slowly, they began to open the carts, and tribute after tribute came out. As each tribute climbed off the train, you were on the lookout for ‘Treech’.
Passing by each cart and watching each pair climb down, you eventually found the pair from District 7. Lamina, whom you remembered as Pliny’s tribute, noticed you as you walked up to her. Her eyes were red from the tears that hadn’t stopped falling. You gave her a warm smile, which she returned, except there was a sad look in her eye.
“Who are you?” A voice called out from next to Lamina, and your face turned to see your tribute. He had placed a protective hand in front of his district partner, like you were going to hurt her. You felt sad at the fact that he thought you would hurt either of them.
Reaching your hand out, you told him your name, “But everyone calls me by my last name, Graham, so it’s up to you!” As he looked at your hand, hesitant to shake it, you realized you hadn’t explained why you were there. "Oh, right, I’m your mentor. Thought it was the right thing to come and introduce myself as you arrived in the capital."
“Well, I don’t need no mentor. I don’t want your help." He spat with a look of disgust in his eyes, causing you to lower your hand and stare awkwardly at the ground. You heard Lamina whispering to him something about how he should be nice to you. Looking up, you smiled at her again as a sign of thanks for being kind to you, even though she didn’t know you.
“I don’t have to be nice to her, Lamina, she’s from the capital." He looked at you up and down as if trying to prove his point with your outfit. You could understand why he was acting like that—if you were in his spot, you wouldn’t trust anyone from the capital.
“I am just here to help you; I don’t mean any harm." You saw his face start to soften but quickly change back to his sour expression once two peacekeepers appeared behind you and began to drag the pair towards a big van being filled with the other tributes. The two stared at you as you began to chase after them.
“Hey, where is that van taking them?" You called out to a peacekeeper, who just rolled his eyes and walked away from you. “Don’t ignore me.” Before you could walk back up to them, you felt someone grab your arm. You were ready to hit whoever it was, but you realized it was only Coriolanus.
“Just wait; once the peacekeepers aren’t looking, we will sneak into the van.” You nodded softly, praying that you were able to be by Treech’s side the entire time.
As you made your way into the van, you were pushed to the ground as it started to move. You saw many of the tributes staring at you and Coriolanus as the two of you stuck out like a sore thumb with your bright red uniforms. The tributes had threatened to attack the two of you, one of them even grabbing Coriolanus by his shirt. Fortunately, Lucy Gray stepped in for Coriolanus as Treech pulled you up off the floor once he saw you sitting there, afraid for your life. He stayed standing in front of you, with Lamina behind you, instead of going back to his spot, standing with his hand grabbing the bar above his head.
There was a sudden stop, causing everyone in the van to jerk forward before it began to tip over. Once the doors opened, everyone flew out, falling on the hard rocks. You groaned as you tumbled down, and you ended up landing next to Treech, who groaned as well. Noticing his hat was no longer on his head, you looked around before crawling to grab it for him. He muttered a quick thank you as he took it from your grasp.
“Where are we?” He questioned, seeming confused about where they were dumped. As you fully took in your surroundings, you gasped. The tall bars and the animal-like environment—they dumped everyone in the Capital Zoo.
“They are keeping you in the zoo? You guys are not animals. How could they do this?” You were beyond outraged. They force them to fight each other to death and don’t even give you a decent sleeping place.
Turning to Treech, you kept apologizing over and over, “I am so sorry about this; I had no idea they were going to keep you here.” He looked like he did when you saw him at the reaping, as if he were about to cry.
"Well, look over here; is that another Academy student I see?” The two of you turned your heads to see Lucky Flickerman and his camera crew on the opposite side of the bars. It looked as if he had just finished talking to Coriolanus and Lucy Gray. "Ahh, isn’t it, Ms. Graham? You're certainly a favorite here in the  capital." You couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic or not; either way, you walked over to him, dragging Treech behind you, who was protesting the action.
"Hello, Lucky, it is nice to see you again. Have you met my tribute yet? Treech, here, is quite the gentleman." You continued to talk him up to the camera while he just stood there behind you.
“It was amazing to speak to you, and thank you for introducing Treech to us, but it seems as if you are about to be whisked out of the cage.” He warned you as you turned around to see a peacekeeper making his way to you as another made his way to Coriolanus. To try and avoid any more violence, you stepped away from Treech as a sign of your cooperation, but the peacekeeper still grabbed you with a great deal of force.
“Don’t touch her like that." Treech yelled as the peacekeeper tightened his grip on your arm, “You’re going to hurt her.”
“They won’t even dare to hurt me; don’t you worry about me." You called after him as he looked at you with fear in his eyes. Lamina had to hold his arm to warn him not to go after you. “Take care of yourself; I will be back later today." The last thing you saw before you were forced to exit the enclosure was Treech giving you a hesitant smile. It was barely noticeable, but, you know, it took a lot for him to do it.
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Unfortunately, you weren’t able to make it after school like many of your other classmates. By the time you arrived at the zoo, it was dark and everyone was already gone.
“Treech, where are you?” you whisper-yelled for him as you made your way to the bars. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it earlier in the day; my father did not like the little stunt I pulled. I had to sneak out to be here.” As he made his way to where you were, you started to pull packages of food and water out of your bag.
“Did you bring anything for me?” He asked, sitting down, once he saw you cross your legs on the floor.
“I sure did. Tons of stuff." You began to list off everything you brought. “I even brought enough for Lamina, so be sure to share with her.” As you handed him everything, he turned around and tossed some of it into her lap.
“Did her mentor stop by?” You nodded your head towards Lamina. You were curious to see if Pliny would actually take on his role as a mentor or just sit back and let you do it, knowing you cared for them.
“He did for a few minutes, but she didn’t speak to him,” he sighed, remembering the event that occurred a few hours prior. “She only wanted to speak to you. She seems to trust you, but how do I know I can?” He asked, taking a bite of the cookie you brought him.
"Well, for starters, I made that cookie you are eating, and I don’t bake for just anyone,” you said as he bit into it again. “Secondly, I care about you. I don’t agree with how the capital treats the district.”
He looked at you like he didn’t expect you to feel that way. “You better not be lying to me, sweetie. Are you sure you aren’t in it for the money? We heard that man mention it to his camera earlier.”
“Oh, I don’t care for the prize; even if I win it, it just ties me down to the capital like I owe them something, and that is the last thing I want when I try and escape this hell.” One day, you were going to leave the capital; you truly were not meant for this place. You explained to him that you wanted to hide out in one of the districts and live out your life away from the capital.
“Whose side are you on? Are you a saint or a sinner, Ms. Graham?” He shot you a look before continuing. “I have a feeling the way you treat me isn’t going to be liked by the capital. I’ve grown quite fond of you, so I’d hate to see them turn against you in the comfort of your own home.”
“I don’t care if the capital hates me for protecting you. It doesn’t matter if they won’t take me back, Treech; all I care about is getting you out of this.” You grabbed his hand through the bar to provide comfort. At that moment, he knew you weren’t lying, but just for safe measure, you spoke up again.
“I’ll throw away my status, just to keep you safe.”
The relationship between you and Treech evolved from mentor and tribute to something deeper. Bonds formed in the face of distress were not easily broken, and you both found strength in each other.
As the 10th annual Hunger Games continued, the Capitol was about to witness a different kind of uprising—one fueled by empathy, compassion, and a shared desire for freedom. And at the center of it all was the unexpected alliance between a Capitol sweetheart and a district tribute determined to defy the odds.
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fangirl-dot-com · 6 months
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Chapter 3 - Head out the Window
After you were allowed to leave the building, you and Vito headed back to the hotel. Your heart was racing at what seemed to be a million miles per hour. You could barely focus on anything. The radio was too noisy, but not loud enough at the same time. The usual calming effect of the car was not doing its job. Your finger nails found solace in picking at the loose skin around your nails. You hadn’t even felt the car stop until Vito said it was time to get out. 
Yet, when you looked up, the hotel building was nowhere in sight. 
“Do you just plan to drop me off and see if I make it back to the hotel alive?” you quipped. He shook his head before gesturing to the small shop that stood in front of you. The big words Ice Cream stood out in the neon lighting. 
“I thought a little celebration was due.” He shrugged his shoulders. On this inside, you were practically melting at the mention of ice cream. It had been entirely too long since you had some. Your diet always came first, but as of right now, you weren’t on one. Celebrations were in store. Yes, you had one more race weekend, but ice cream was more important. 
You and Vito walked inside, a little bell announcing your presence. The worker behind the counter looked as though he didn’t even want to be there. But, he took your orders quickly and you both were in and out in less than 10 minutes. 
Not wanting to get back into the car, you found a little table to sit at. Sure, the table and chairs were off balance and probably hadn’t been cleaned in years, but it worked for the time being. 
“I still can’t believe you got chocolate of all flavors. It’s literally so basic,” you berated him as you licked at your own ice cream cone. 
Vito gave you a look. “It is not. It is a classic. And says the one who got the most boring flavor of cookie dough with sprinkles.” 
“At least it tastes good. Do you just like it or are you a picky eater?” You squinted your eyes and gave a smile. You thought you had gotten the last laugh as you got back to your ice cream. But a cold sensation on your nose startled you. Vito leaned back, laughing hysterically, while holding his ice cream that had a nose-shaped dent in it. 
You couldn’t help but laugh with him too as you tried to shove your ice cream in his face. He was much quicker though and was able to evade your attacks. 
Your breathes evened out a couple of minutes later, and a comfortable silence enveloped the two of you. Until you inhaled sharply.  
“Why didn’t you tell me? About the contact.” You looked over, eyes boring into his. You wanted the truth and not some half-assed answers. But, you knew that he wouldn’t do that. Not about a discussion like this. 
He finished his ice cream before answering. 
“Because I know you. You would have driven yourself into the ground with training and overthinking if you had known there was a possibility that there might have been an offer.” 
You did not answer, because you knew he was right. If there was even a slight glimmer of hope for a 2024 seat, it didn’t even have to be with a big team, you would have gotten stuck in your head. The overthinking would have taken over, and it might have cost you your championship. 
“You’re one of the best drivers out there Y/n. You just need to realize that.” He put a hand on your shoulder as you turned to him. 
“Thank you. Again, for everything. I hope you know that this means I’m not getting rid of you.” You shone a smile at him. You couldn’t image a life without him. He was there for you for all of your accomplishments. What you didn’t know is that he felt the same way. Vito always thought that you were the daughter he never got. And he was thankful for you as well. 
“Never kid, never.” 
Your ice cream had dripped all over your hand by now. Sighing, you tried to clean up the mess. Soon enough, your ice cream and cone were gone. 
Vito looked over to you, “We better head back to the hotel. You have a couple of busy days coming up.” 
You only nodded as you used stood from the outside chair, the metal scraping against the concrete. 
“When do you think I’ll get to meet them?” you ask as you climb back into the car. 
“Meet who kid?” Vito responded as the car came to life. You quickly put on your seatbelt before he carefully pulled out of the parking spot. 
“You know…Max and Checo?” You nervously twirled your fingers. What would they think of you? You know that Checo wouldn’t have much thought, or would he – since you were the one taking his seat. Maybe he thought that Red Bull could have chosen better. 
Max was who you were most nervous about. His teammate would no longer be older than him, or have more experience. He would be paired with a rookie, in both experience and age. Six years younger and no previous chances in Formula 1. And to put a cherry on top, a female. All that he knew in a teammate, would be gone and reconstructed. 
“They’re both nice. I don’t think you’ll have any problems with either of them kid.” 
“Will I have to call Max, Mr. Verstappen? Since he’s older and such.” 
Vito let out a giant laugh, shoulders shaking as he pulled up to a red light. The bright crimson shone on two of you. 
Once he had stopped laughing, Vito was able to say, “No kid. I don’t think so.” 
You sighed in relief. They were older yes, but not that much older. Oscar was only two years older than you. However, you might have to call Fernando Mr. Alonso. The age gap was considerably larger. 
Would you even make friends on the grid? Or would they avoid you to stay out of the media. You bet that the moment you’re seen with one of them, dating rumors would spread. And you didn’t want to upset them, or the grid’s respective girlfriends. You shuddered at the thought. 
The rest of the drive was silent. You figured that tomorrow would go well. You would be fitted for a Red Bull suit and would be given the green light to drive your first F1 car. 
The first.
It had a nice ring to it. 
The drive continued on for a bit. You leaned up and pressed the power button for the radio. The distinct sound of “What Makes You Beautiful” filled the vehicle. Your grin grew as you started to sing the familiar lyrics. Vito smiled as well, more-so mouthing the words while you all but screeched. 
“BABY YOU LIGHT UP MY WORLD LIKE NO BODY ELSE!,” you sang along with the well-known boy band. Your window suddenly was rolled down. You had the grand idea to stick your head out the window.
“YOU DON’T KNOW, OH-OH, THAT’S WHAT MAKES YOU BEAUTIFUL!” The wind picked up your hair and pushed it back into your face. Sure, it was now sticking to your lip gloss, but right now you didn’t care. Until you pulled up to another red light, and there were multiple guys in the car next to you. You flashed an embarrassed smile before clamoring back into the car. Your finger could not find the button for the window any faster. 
Across from you, Vito had started laughing again with full body shakes. For the life of you, your window would not go up. Looking over, you could see Vito’s finger pressed down on the button for your window. You reached across the dash and swatted at his hand, desperately trying to get your window rolled up. 
Finally, the tinted thing slowly but surely reached the top of the window. You looked over at Vito with a look of betrayal. You reach over and hit his shoulder. He, in comparison, is still shaking with laughter. 
“You bitch!” you barely shouted, the words covered by giggles. Ok, it was kind of funny, but not really. “I literally just embarrassed myself in front of those boys.” 
“They probably thought you were very pretty,” he said, snickering. You could only look in disbelief at your manager. You refused to look back over until you knew that the car had definitely passed. Your arms were crossed and lip in a pout for the remainder of the drive. 
Vito looked over at you. “Don’t be like that kid. It was all in good fun.” 
You mumbled back, “For you sure.” The pout however was relaxed and a grin replaced it. You couldn’t be mad at him for very long. It had been a while since you were allowed to have a bit of fun. 
Winning races was fun, but that was your job, that took up most of your year and free time. You never noticed how far the drive way the first time. A yawn escaped your mouth and your hand quickly came up to cover it. You definitely needed to sleep well tonight.  
Thankfully, the car came to a halt in front of the hotel. Vito turned to you as you unbuckled your seatbelt. 
“You better get some good sleep. Tomorrow is going to be fun but exhausting.” 
You mocked a salute and said, “Sir, yes sir. You have a good night as well. See you in the morning?” 
“Yes, I will. Goodnight kid.” 
“Night Vito.” You shut the door and watched as he went to park the car. Why he didn’t use the complementary valet, you hadn’t a clue. But that wasn’t your problem. 
You were quickly let into the building once you scanned your card. The people at the front desk greeted you as you made your way to the elevator. It didn’t take long for it to ding, signaling your arrival to your floor. The pristine carpet led you to your white hotel room door. 
Using the card again to get into the room, you opened the door once the lock had whirred.
The sight of your bed almost had you in tears. The stress of today was now hitting you as you walked to the bed. Following in George Russel’s F1 intro footsteps, you put your arms out and fell face first into the soft top blanket. You could have honestly fallen asleep here, but you knew you needed to take off your makeup first. 
You let out a groan as your body protested moving. Your skin care and toiletries had already been set out, since you used them earlier to freshen up after the flight. 
Deciding not to do every single step to your skin care routine, you took out the micellar water and a reusable cotton round. Once your makeup was off, you quickly washed your face and changed into some pajamas. 
Funny enough, they consisted of some shorts and a Red Bull shirt that you had been given during Dams’ Christmas gift exchange. It had come from Ollie and Arthur both, but you knew that Arthur wouldn’t be caught buying anything with the RB logo on it. 
Now he’d have to get used to it. 
Oh my gosh. What would Arthur think. 
Were you allowed to tell your best friend? You guessed that he could find out early, but you didn’t want to get in trouble for anything just yet. He could find out with the rest of the world. Maybe you could ask Christian if you could tell him the night you posted something before Red Bull came out with an official statement.
Before bed, you found yourself scrolling through Twitter and Instagram. A couple of posts made you laugh out loud. You caught your finger hovering over some posts that talked about “connecting the dots” that were scarily accurate. What you would give to like at least one to send Twitter into a frenzy. But, you withdrew your finger and decided to jump onto TikTok. 
A few videos made you chuckle. Especially the McLaren one of Lando and Oscar trying to build card houses. Lando’s goggles were hilarious. 
To think that in a couple of months, they would be your “co-workers.” That was terrifying. At least you had met Charles a couple of times through Arthur. He was…nice. You hadn’t really spoken to him much the last time you saw him at Arthur’s birthday party. If anything, you think you might have said a maximum of 10 words to him the entire night. 
But that was a start. 
You eventually scrolled through almost all of the new posts. Looking over, you noticed that the clock read 12:30 a.m. Quickly, you set an alarm for the next morning before putting your phone on the charger. 
Vito would kill you in the morning if you hadn’t slept well. You closed your eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of the life you were able to be thrown into. 
At least you could get a red bull if you were tired.  
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(Your story)
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(Vito's story [I know it'd be impossible to take this picture if he was driving but just imagine :)] )
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Tag List : @awekbachira @lightdragonrayne
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avatarkv · 1 year
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Uh-oh! I think you're holding the heart of mine!
Synopsis ! You should have known better than to love someone so cruel.
Content and warning: Ao'nung x Reader! Ao'nung is a mean IDIOT, his friends too. BULLIES >:[ he comes around tho (2.6k words of angst to comfort hahah)
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You’ve been in love with Ao’nung since you were little kids, always trailing behind like a second shadow and mimicking even the smallest gestures. To you, he was the sun; so bright and achingly alluring, but like the sun, he was cruel— oh so cruel. He’d burn you every chance he gets and you’d take it willingly, grateful for even the slightest touch of warmth. 
You never took it to heart. Never. This was a challenge that you’ve accepted with great pride thinking that you could crack his mean demeanor; you were convinced that the reason he had this seemingly tough exterior was because he was future clan leader— of course he needed to be strong. It would be bad for his image to falter, let alone to a girl who held no title whatsoever. You were nobody. 
Tsireya would say otherwise. though. She was your number one supporter; always urging you to do better and to continue with your cute antics towards his brother. She knows you’d be great for him— heck, you were the only one she deemed suitable for Ao’nung. How could she not think so? You were a great hunter, always quick on your feet and vigilant. On top of that, you were resilient. You never knew when to give up. 
You were believed to have been loved, regardless of his very actions. You remember crying to Tsireya one afternoon, showing her the graze on your forearm. The sight of it alarmed her— anything bloodied, even in the smallest of form would worry any kid so she rushed you to her mother. 
Ronal cooed while she tended to your wound and you unconsciously poured your heart out about how Ao’nung had pushed you harshly down the sand, scraping your skin on scattered rocks in the process. His friends had laughed at you, pointing their fingers to your fragile form, cowering. 
“Maybe he’s being aggressive because he likes you back!” Tsireya reasons, oblivious to what really was the case— but you were only kids, rough housing and games like these were normal so you didn’t know any better either. You wiped your runny nose and took a deep breath. 
“You really think so?” and still you were hopeful. 
Tsireya nodded enthusiastically, taking your hands near her chest. Ronal softly smiled, rubbing your back in soothing circles. “I’m sorry about Ao’nung, ma __. I’ll be sure to give him a good scolding later when he gets home.”
“And who knows, maybe he does like you. Boys just don’t like to talk about their feelings.” What Ronal said only burned your hopes higher— encouraging your heart to push for a longer run.
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It wasn’t always like this. You and him were best of friends, inseparable and kind. You were a trio along with Tsireya and you absolutely loved spending time with them; swimming, exploring the ocean– being kids. Ever since, you knew he was the one, almost like it was the great mother’s own will. The feelings blossomed every spent time with him and you cherished it wholeheartedly. 
“You should eat plenty so that you grow up to be strong, Ao’nung!” You’d force bits of fish near his lips, urging him to open up. He was throwing a tantrum after being scolded by Ronal, arms tightly crossed and refusing to eat anything. “I don’t want a lanky mate!”
And of course it had been a joke. You’d love him regardless of what he looked like and you knew it, but it was so forward of you and it would always catch him off guard. His cheeks would burn bright red and he’d turn into a stuttering mess. 
“Mate?” He asked incredulously which you returned with an eager nod. ”That’s grown up talk! Don’t say things like that until we’re older.” 
“You’re gonna have so many pretty children!” Tsireya would comment and you both would squeal, oblivious to the frantic young boy. 
After he had started to train, Ao’nung was naturally introduced to other warriors. He fit in perfectly. As much as you were happy for him, that was also when things took a turn and before you know it, it was only you and Tsireya left. 
Ao’nung thought that what you had for him would be harmless– a silly crush your young heart couldn’t comprehend yet, but you had now grown into a fine woman and the said love had developed just as much. The people weren’t blind to see how you’ve matured so beautifully– but the men your age knew better than to even try to talk to you. Everyone knew you had eyes for Ao’nung and him only, and the way he grew himself had women dote for him. 
It drove him crazy; the sly comments, the lingering touch, the gifts– your very presence. He didn’t know how to handle it, so when his heart beat turned frantic everytime, he’d call it frustration. How his face would burn, how his chest would tighten. Ao’nung was conflicted and his mother was right– boys don’t like to talk about their feelings and he never will. 
He’d push you away harshly. Snapping the countless bracelets you’ve carefully crafted for him, embarrassing you regardless of eyes watching, and belittled you any chance he gets. Every woman would cry there and then, immediately running off in embarrassment– but you stayed everytime and it infuriated him. Ao’nung couldn’t shake you off, even if you weren’t around. You were everywhere he went, even in dreams. 
You sat with him as he sharpened his fishing spear, not even sparing a glance at your presence. “Oel ngati kameie, Ao’nung.” 
The silence didn’t falter you. In fact, it was inviting you to continue. You were surprised he hadn’t even got up to leave so you gratefully took the opportunity and handed him a present wrapped in leaves. He dropped his weapon and begrudgingly took it, opening it in one go. 
It was a pretty tie with various beads along the strings. His hair was sometimes unruly and he disliked braiding it, so you figured you’d make him something to wear. For a minute, he stared, admiring it– but the way your smile grew every second had embarrassed him. Ao’nung snickered, throwing it carelessly on the ground and you immediately scrambled to look for it.
“I’m not interested.” He emphasized every word as if he tried to make you understand, harshly kicking the sand towards your kneeling body. Ao’nung left and you could only stare with a sigh.  
So maybe this time, you were to blame. After all the years he’d push you away, embarrass you in front of his friends, you were still the same stupid shell of a girl who thought he had finally changed– he had finally cracked and you were confident. It was afternoon when they approached you, asking for your presence while they hunted further the reefs. Ao’nung had asked you– Ao’nung.
Nothing else mattered, not even the obvious snickers from the background. You nodded enthusiastically, tripping on your heels as you hurriedly ran back home to get ready. They had already mounted their Ilu when you returned and without a word, you followed them. 
So maybe this time, you were to blame. You should’ve known better than to be so trusting– so gullible and naive. Night was approaching quickly and Ao’nung or any of his friends were nowhere to be seen. The thrashing waves would unmercifully shove your small body on the very rock that helped you keep afloat, its harsh and sharp edges scratching your skin. The ocean was reprimanding you, you’ve concluded after trying to hold on for hours– the blame was yours and yours only. Stupid, stupid girl.
They had left you and this time, you knew well enough it had been their intention. 
They were laughing back at shore, applauding themselves for a successful prank. You were to return later all disheartened and the sight would be the cherry on top, but Ao’nung grew restless every minute. This was wrong and he knew that well. 
His friends had already bid their goodbyes but he stood there, waiting. He started to walk in circles while fidgeting his fingers– something was wrong. Perhaps it was a sibling thing for Tsireya to start feeling uneasy as well, so she excused herself from her mother and seeked for his brother. It wasn’t hard to find him and when she did, her panic only worsened as she approached him. 
“What’s wrong, brother?” Tsireya asked, eyebrows knitted together. 
“__” He immediately answered, “__ is outside the reef.”
Tonowari and a few warriors immediately ventured out to search for you. Tsireya couldn't even be enraged at his brother as she was busy worrying herself– but Ronal was a different case. She had been biting his ear off the very moment he told her what happened but Ao’nung easily tuned her out, only hearing his rapid heartbeat. 
It felt like forever, but the moment his father had returned, he ran towards him straight away. There you were, a warrior propping you up gently as you limped. You were bloodied and out of breath– he winced at the cuts coating your skin. Before he could even approach you, you had flinched. 
The look you gave him made him shudder. It was so unlike you to look at him differently, so empty and void of any admiration. Suddenly, his throat was awfully parched and he was entirely unmoving– all the apologies that were begging to be spat out from the tip of his tongue, gone. You stood there, staring with your teary doe eyes. 
His presence made you nauseous and you would’ve cowered in instinct, if not for the warrior’s hold on your shoulders. You could’ve died– you almost did; you were already slipping and numb.
Your parents had immediately ran to you, crying as they held you near. They rushed your weary body to Ronal in a heartbeat. The clan spoke in whispers as Tonowari dispersed the growing crowd. 
Ao’nung could only watch at your retreating figure. He visibly gulped. This was it, he thought, this was what he wished for. 
And it had only hurt him terribly.
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He stayed near the hut regardless and heard how you whimpered– how you’d sniffle and cry. The paste burned against your skin and you couldn’t help but squirm. You felt so ugly, so humiliated and little. 
Ronal finally walks out, the sound of the flap waking Ao’nung’s drowsy state. “Mother, how is she?” He receives only a scornful glare as she walks past him. 
“Mother, please.” 
“I am deeply disappointed in you, Ao’nung” She said, clearly holding back. The tsahik sighed, “but for her sake, I will save you from any more scolding. It is what she asks for.” 
And it was so like you to think of him before yourself. It applied more pressure on his already beaten heart and he could only drop his head in shame. This was his fault and he had to face the consequences he so begged for all these years– so where did this sickening desire to hold you close come from? It was bittersweet on his tongue and no water could get rid of the taste. 
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“I know that look, brother.” Tsireya didn’t have to glance to see his troubled state. It’s been days– no, weeks. He couldn’t get to you; skilfully blending in with your surroundings and out his sight, scurrying quickly towards another direction– it was clear you wanted nothing to do with him. 
It pained him– absolutely shattered him to pieces. 
“I can’t reach her, Tsireya.” His frown deepens as he frustratingly tugged on his hair. 
“And you will never again!” Ao’nung flinched. As much as Tsireya enjoyed the torment of his brother, she still rooted for the both of you– still standing firm with the fact that you’d do good for him, but she thought of you and knew you also deserved better. With a dejected sigh, she whispers,  “If.. you don’t hurry.” 
“Her hideout. Now. Go make things right.” Tsireya hoped she was doing the right thing.
Ao’nung darted in a heartbeat– disrupting the busy clan and accidentally bumping into them. He couldn’t waste any time anymore, he had to get to you or else he’d forever hold his peace. Every step he took was an image of you with someone else; someone else willing to make you happy, someone else to be your mate. 
And he hated that. It only fueled him to go faster, eventually reaching a pond surrounded by trees. The place was hidden and only the three of you knew where it was located– it was your safe place.
There you were, relaxed and unknowing. It was cruel like this; for Eywa to strikingly illustrate you in a different light– in a different point of view, or perhaps it had never changed and he just chose to never look at you the way he’s staring now. You were absolutely beautiful, basking in the glow of the dusk. The water swayed you gently and the calm on your face was inviting. 
This was his only chance. 
Ao’nung approached you, allowing the water to swallow him near you. He called out your name in a whisper and you immediately turned to him in surprise. Before he could even get another word out, you tried to hoist yourself up to escape, but he was quick to grab your wrist. 
You hissed in return, his touch burning the healing cuts on your skin. “You don’t get to be sorry.” 
You had turned your back on him and only then did he see the same tie that you tried to give him around your hair. It was gut-wrenching– the taste of his own medicine. 
“I knew you wanted me off your skin, but I didn’t realize you wanted me gone.” And he knew what you meant, immediately wincing at the thought.
“I’m sorry, __” The apology came out almost in a desperate manner. Ao’nung was aching to touch you– to hug you close. He was willing to apologize forever, if it meant that you’d finally turn around and look at him, but when you did, his body went rigid and he wanted to swallow his words. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
You were crying and you looked everywhere but him. He took a step forward and when you didn’t retreat, he took the chance to hold your cheek, caressing it with his thumb. You absolutely hated it– hated him. Even after everything, he was warm. “You don’t get to be sorry.”
“How could you be so,” You hit his chest harshly, the water splashing along your movements, “How could you be so mean?”
“I am young, __” Ao’nung softly said, his eyes on you unmoving. “Young and absolutely stupid.” 
“Damn right you are.”
He let out a breathy chuckle. “I never had anyone love me the way you do. Anyone who paid me any mind wanted me for my status– they only wanted the olo'eyktan’s son.” 
You turned your head with a click of a tongue, only for him to grab your chin to look at him again. Of course you never wanted him because of his or his parent’s title– you loved him genuinely and he was a coward to not see that. His expression was nothing but sincere and you hated it.
“I am young and stupid, __, so please.” He takes another step forward and you were sure the small gap between your bodies had cut your inability to breathe. The water had gone cold and you couldn’t move. You stayed there, looking up at him. “Let me grow old with you and I promise to be wiser.” 
“I see you, __.”
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☆ mauve here! FINALLY DONE W THIS AO'NUNG PIECE, JESUS CHRIST. this was actually the first thing i've originally written prior to making this account because the lack of aonung content was >:(((( so here i am, giving him my long awaited attention. finding pictures of him were so hard as well! i enjoyed writing this though, i love aonung and his sibling dynamic w tsireya
i left this in a cliffhanger, i think, BECAUSE personally i wouldn't let that slide. i wouldve left aonung to beg FOR DAYS but eh
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© avatarkv, do not repost.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 5 months
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Crazy Forever || LN4
Summary: The truth always comes out in the end. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, dub/con, dark themes WC: 1.3k F1 Masterlist || Part One (Crazy For you) || Part Two (Crazy For You Too) || Part Three (Crazy For The Three Of Us) || Part Four (Crazy Forever)
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“Stay,” Lando begged as he curled an arm around your waist. “I want cuddles.”
“I have to go, I’m going to be late,” you said with a yawn. It had been another bad sleep and you put it down to the lack of sleep tea that used to knock you out cold, but you couldn’t stay in bed all day. “You should get up too, you have to pack for Australia.”
He groaned and he sat up, the blankets fell to his lap as he stretched his arms above his head. “Don’t remind me. You do realise you don’t have to work, love.”
“Don’t, we have been over this, Lan. You already pay for everything and it’s too much. I want to pay for the baby things with my own money.”
“It’s my baby too.”
“It was still my fault,” you mumbled as you left the room. 
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You were called into the HR meeting room almost immediately after arriving and you sat down with a frown as your boss avoided all eye contact. 
“What’s going on?” you asked quietly as your palms began to sweat.
Your boss's cheeks turned pink and he slid his phone onto the table, a picture you recognised on the screen. Nausea rolled through you as you slapped your hand over the screen to hide the image but everyone had already seen it. “Where did you get that?”
“You sent it to me.”
“No, I didn’t,” you argued as you covered your mouth. 
“Yes, you did,” he muttered as he took the phone back and showed you the contact number. It was yours, and it was sent while you had been driving to work. “I know you are going through some things but this is unacceptable.”
“No, really, I didn’t send this. I-I don’t know how it happened but it wasn’t me.”
Your boss sighed heavily and looked at the HR manager. “I think it is best if you take the rest of the week off and we will schedule a formal meeting for next Monday. If you decide to hand your notice in before then it will be accepted without this going onto your record.”
You knew what he was saying between the thinly veiled threats and you reached for the small paper bin before retching your breakfast into it. A look of pity came over their faces and a handkerchief floated across the table for you to wipe your lips. “Thank you,” you mumbled as you rose from the table, despite wanting to throw the trash can at them. “I’ll send my resignation through today.”
“It’s for the best this way,” he said as he deleted the nude photo Lando had begged for when he was away testing in Bahrain. He had promised it was just for him, because he missed you so much.
You really shouldn’t have driven home in your state. You could hardly see the road through the humiliating tears that streamed down your face. 
“Lando?” 
You sighed with relief when you found the apartment empty as you weren’t sure you could face him at that moment. You didn’t know how he had done it, or why, but there was no one else who had the picture.
You would have sold your soul for a drink as you changed out of your work clothes and flopped onto the bed feeling miserable. You would have stayed there if it wasn’t for your phone vibrating with a notification, and you noticed an echo coming from Lando’s closet. You climbed over the bed and opened the door, listening for any other sound. It was quiet, but you heard it coming from under his clothes drawers. 
You tugged at the panel of wood and it popped off easily to reveal a mess of power cords, clothes and bags of powders squirrelled away. Shuffling around deeper, you saw a screen light up at the bottom and saw the notification that was mirrored on your phone. You reached for beyond the set of keys that matched your car and old apartment, right down to the cheap Eiffel Tower replica key ring.
“What the fuck…”
“I really wish you didn’t see that.”
You slammed the panel shut but it was too late, Lando was standing in the doorway to the room with his arms crossed over his chest. He had stolen it, the phone you had lost, the one you had replaced, it had been in his possession this whole time. All your social media profiles, iMessages, everything was at his disposal - even your period tracking app.
He had stolen everything you thought you lost. Keys, clothes, chargers. He even stole your perfume. You thought you were going crazy, but he had been orchestrating it all.
Tugging the panel away, you grabbed the clear bag of white powder and sniffed it. It had the same sickly sweet scent as the lemon and ginger tea he made. Grabbing another, you felt ill as it had the same relaxing aroma as the chamomile tea he used to make each night, the one that put you in a deep sleep.
“You roofied me?” You wanted to sound angry and bitter but you only sounded broken as you dropped the bags.
“You’re my girlfriend, why would I drug you?” he snickered as he walked into the room, taking the bags and flushing them down the toilet in the ensuite. “With what drugs?”
“You got me fired…why are you doing this to me?” It felt like déjà-vu and you were sure that you had this conversation before. Smacking the sides of your head you screamed as you tried to remember. Why couldn’t you remember?
“Hey, shhhh,” Lando soothed as he caught your hands and lowered them to your sides. You struggled against his hold as he wrapped you in his arms but he was too strong. “I just wanted you to be free to travel with me. Now we don’t have to be apart, ever.”
“Do you even hear yourself?” you growled as you tried to wriggle out of his hold. “This is insane, you’re fucking crazy!”
He released you as abruptly as he had caught you and you held your hands up as you backed away. You needed space, from him and the situation, you needed time to think.
“Where are you going?” he chuckled as he followed you out of the room, each of his strides longer than yours.
“Anywhere you aren’t.” He overtook you in the hall.
“You know I can’t let you go.” He blocked the door and slid the bolt across before facing you. “You’re carrying my child, you’re not leaving. You have no job, no house, no friends. You need me.”
Hopelessness fell over you and you hung your head in shame. “I wish I never met you.”
His laugh tickled your cheek as he embraced you again, his hand spreading wide over the back of your head and guiding your face to the crook of his neck. “No, you don’t,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re just angry, and that’s okay. We’ll get through this rough patch together and you’ll realise what a blessing this is. You and me, our baby, together, forever.”
“Forever?” you echoed in defeat.
“Forever. You’ll never want for anything, baby. Whatever you want you can have, I’ll make sure you are treated like a princess.”
“The kind that gets locked up in a tower?”
He laughed and kissed your forehead sweetly. “Only if you try to leave me. But you’re not going to try something silly like that are you, love?”
You swallowed the lump in your throat and shook your head. He was right, you needed him. He could provide for you and the child you carried, so you would behave.
“I won’t,” you whispered as your shoulders slumped.
“That’s my girl. I knew I chose right,” he hummed happily. “None of those other women could have been you.”
Cold dread shivered down your spine. “What women?”
“The others that applied to rent my apartment,” he said as pulled back to look into your eyes, a dark smile on his lips. “The one I own next door.”
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vcrooster · 2 years
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Cherry Flavored
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Smut & Some Angst.
Paring: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw & Reader (call sign: Cherry)
Word count: 4 k
Summary: All that Rooster needed to do was let out some steam.
Authors note: I don’t even know how I came up with this but I hope you like it <3. If you guys have any ideas you would like me to right about I’m all open for some requests.
***
Rooster didn’t even notice his arms were feeling sore until he was in the showers. He could hear the mix of all of the other guys voices, and all of them came to the same conclusion. Maverick had kicked everyone’s ass.
Including him. Twice.
He was so mad at himself. He should’ve taken the damn shot.
And fucking Coyote flirting with you since the call back isn’t really letting him be at his fullest.
You always politely declined him. Politely as in you said no thank you and he took it as a try harder.
And every time it took everything in Rooster not to tell him off.
All of the whistles had made him turn his head towards the door. “If it ain’t Cherry and Phoenix” Hangman said when saw you walk in the room.
The collar of your shirt still had sweat around it and your suit was half way undone.
You were one of the two female pilots that were recalled to Top Gun. Most of the time you got treated as equals, but they were moments like this where the guys were just being stupid.
You lock eyes with Rooster. He doesn’t hold it for more than a couple of seconds. “Don’t worry lady’s, we are out of here”. Hangman says, you are actually grateful that they’ve respected your privacy. “Showers are all yours”.
He seems irritated and upset. You can’t do anything about it right now, not in front of everyone.
You started to fool around with him a couple a years ago. Sneaking around, just letting some steam off was the whole purpose of it.
It wasn’t your intention to grow feelings for him. You both stayed together for the holidays, neither of you had families to go back to, so you kept each other company.
Rooster sure wasn’t expecting to find himself asking for you to give him a chance.
But how couldn’t he. Rooster was crazy over you.
The decision to keep it a secret was mutual. You didn’t want to risk a transfer to a different unit. Truth is you guys were a good team in the air, and you couldn’t trust anybody else to not get you killed up there.
“Come on Rooster, don’t try to get lucky” Harvard patted him on the back before leaving the room, without of course giving you a last glance.
“Are you messing around with Rooster?” Phoenix asked with a smirk on her face once they were alone.
“What?” No, no, no, she doesn’t know. “I’m not messing around with nobody”.
“You don’t sound so sure” she teases.
“Oh shut up”.
You feel somewhat unsteady when you get the sensation that she isn’t joking around. Shit, Phoenix is like a sister to Bradley, of course she’s going to know when something is off about him.
“Coyote and Hangman would be terribly heartbroken” honestly starts feeling like she is trying to get something out of you. “I can’t blame you though”.
Hangman would never admit to it sober, but during a late night drunk conversation with Phoenix it had slipped his mouth how he saw you almost naked in the showers.
It was an accident, genuinely.
He wasn’t a pervert he had just been stupid enough to forget his keys under his spare shirt in his locker.
Now maybe he wasn’t a good team player but he was sure a gentleman, nobody but Phoenix knew about it.
The image of you getting undressed had been the only thing helping him get off for the next week or so. He never made a move on you in a serious type of manner; however, he would occasionally flirt when he got a little too cocky.
“Whatever”. You answer.
You ignore her comments and head to take a shower. The warm water felt delicious over your skin. The training today has been hard— embarrassing you would say. You are supposed to be the best of the best, and here comes this guy that took everyone down with little to no effort.
But the 200 push-ups under the California sun were the worst part of it all. You really don’t want to complain, because Rooster had to do double of that.
You make sure to get done before Phoenix is. You hurry to your small designated room before she asks more questions and you get too annoyed at her.
It’s an hour till midnight when you go to Rooster’s room. You decided it was better to give him some time to cool off before you checked up on him.
“Hey” he doesn’t say anything he just moves aside to make room for you to come in.
You watch him walk back and take a seat at the edge of his bed. His face is painted with exhaustion, he’s still upset for what you could tell.
Your hand drops on his shoulder when you sit next to him, trying to give him some sort of comfort. “It’s alright Rooster, he smoked everyone else out there”.
“He pulled my papers”.
“What? Maverick?” You knew he had a rattle going on with him but he never mentioned why.
“He pulled my application on the naval academy” his voice was a mix of gloom and anger. “Set me back four years”.
“What you did today, you could’ve got yourself kicked out” You know how he lets anger blind him. He’s just a guy that lets his emotions get the best of him.
“Don’t worry about it—“
“I am” You slightly raise your voice, You’re not going to sit there letting him pity himself. Bradley is a great pilot he just needs to loosen up a little. “You can’t leave us flying with Hangman”.
“I’m sorry” he finally looks at you, you feel the palm of his hand gently squeeze your inner thigh.
“I don’t want you to apologize to me, I just want you to prove him wrong”.
He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear before leaning in, pressing his lips sweetly against yours.
They stay still for a second and pulls back, pressing his forehead on your own. You know that no matter how much time goes by, he’ll always be breathtaking to you.
You are the one that decides to make the next move. Wanting to make him feel good, help him relax a little. You move your lips gradually over his without any intention at first.
Slowly as you deepen the kiss you straddle his lap, his fingers immediately dig in the skin of your hips holding you steady, knowing your next move.
He knows it’s a bad idea to fuck you in the dorm rooms, shit, Yale and Coyote were sleeping in the rooms next to his, maybe he wouldn’t mind finally putting and end to Coyote insistence on you, but he knew it wasn’t the place or time.
Your fingers slide into his golden hair when his tongue meets yours. He isn’t trying to get carried away but he can help to get rid of your shirt completely when your hand gets lost inside his boxers.
His hands are roaming from your waist to your breasts. He covers them with his hands, squeezing them softly earning a moan from you.
It’s all it took for him to return to his senses.
“Wait, wait, babe wait” he sounds rushed as he’s trying to catch his breath again. “We can’t, not here”.
“Just relax” You shushed him.
“They’re going to hear us”. He’s doing his best to be the nice guy and stop you, but he’s had a shitty day and the idea of intimacy with his girl, was sounding very good at the moment.
He’s looking at you with expectant eyes, that’s all you need for you to kneel in front of him and tug the waistband of his boxers.
“You just gotta make sure you're very quiet then”.
Once your hand is around his cock he lets out a shaky breath. You work your hand along his shaft and seconds later his hand is on top of your own, guiding the speed. “A little slower”. The breathes out.
You do as he says. Your thumb brushes against his tip a couple of times, gaining a sigh from him. God, you love the sounds he makes.
“Feeling better?” You let out a giggle with a soft smile.
“Fuck yes” he groans.
You wrap your lips on him without warning, he throws back his head, hissing and moaning your name in what sounded like a whisper.
His fingers get tangled in your hair carefully undoing the tie holding your ponytail up. He has always loved you with your hair down. But what he loves the most is when he can just take it in a fistful for himself to guide your movements.
“You always take me so good baby” he grunts.
Rooster looks down on you. His eyes trail to your arched back and those boy shorts that barely covered your ass, all he can think is how good it looks from where he’s at.
That sight alone makes him lose his mind in between gasps and groans. It’s always so difficult for him to maintain eye contact when you always look so perfect. And it’s all just for him.
He moans getting all caught up in the moment, you don’t even pay attention to the tears forming in the corner of your eyes when he hits the back of your throat.
Your tongue swirls around his tip and your hand works on whatever you mouth can’t reach. He hissed pushing the hair off your forehead. “Fuck”.
His eyes meet yours right before he’s about to cum. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth slightly opened. He pulls himself out and next thing you feel is the warm strings covering your cleavage.
It takes a moment for him to compose his breath, meanwhile you clean yourself with the towel sitting on the chair next to his bed.
He tucks himself back in his boxers. He shifts in his twin size bed, lifting his body on his elbows.
He gets lost looking at the cherry tattoo on your shoulder, the reason you earned your call sign. He lets out a smirk remembering the time you were drunk and complaining that you wanted your call sign to be Echo, not the stupid tattoo you got when you’d just turned 18.
“Hey…” he reaches out for you making you fall on his lap.
You know he wants to return the favor when he turns you under him and starts kissing you hard. Fingers start to play on the waistband of your shorts teasing you. But you're not falling for it.
His lips trail off down your neck where he nips on the skin of your collar bones. “Oh no Bradshaw, I have to go”.
He yanks his head up looking a little lost. He completely forgot he was the one trying to stop you all along.
“Come on, just stay for a little bit”.
You smile at his childish actions. You know if you stay in his room you're ending up getting tangled in his sheets and to be honest it hasn’t been long since you guys had sex.
Truth is you ended up fucking him in some random motel after his little preformance in the Hard Deck.
“Unless you want to explain to Cyclone, why was I in your room all night Lieutenant Bradshaw” He smiles playfully kissing your jaw and lastly he leaves a soft kiss on your lips.
“I think I’m good on that one”.
“I thought so too”
You leave before it gets any later than it already is.
You hope that’s enough to get him off his thoughts for a bit– and a better mood.
And it works for what you could tell. It was all going alright but when it was his turn to do the exercise Maverick wasn’t exactly too constructive about it.
The best way to describe today’s training was no other than a shit show.
Maverick and Rooster had put on one hell of a performance in front of everyone. But what tied it all together was Hangman’s comments on Rooster's dad. To be more specific how he passed flying with Maverick.
“Hey!”. You yell at Hangman before he turns the corner.
“Cherry” He sighs “Your pretty little face is becoming more annoying every–“ you slap him across his face, you’d like to say you stopped there but before he could steady himself you push him against the wall. “Ouch”.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” your voice comes out more broken than strong. “His problems aren’t for you to broadcast in front of everyone”.
“Is it getting too personal with Rooster?”. He sounds pretty cynical and that smile painted across his face only made you angrier. “Because I have to say I thought I was more of your type”.
“You’re such a fucking asshole Jake”.
“Lighten up Cherry, Jesus”. He winks not before looking at you up and down. “I’m feeling a little jealous”.
“I swear–“
“Guys just stop” Phoenix interrupted you both before the situation escalated.
As soon as she says that you’re on your way to Bradley’s dorm. Phoenix tries to stop you to try and calm the situación down but it honestly comes out as more annoying than helpful.
You’re only knocking a couple of times on his door before he opens it.
His suit is half way undone, the arms are wrapped around his waist and he’s still clearly mad about the whole situation.
His eyes don’t soften as they usually do when he looks at you. In fact his hand is wrapped around your arm pulling you into his room.
“I’m so fucking over this shit” He tells you before you could say anything. “What does he fucking want me to do?”.
“Rooster…” he lets you reach out for his shoulder. You don’t want to say anything, he can be a real hothead when he’s mad, and honestly he’s had enough for today.
“And Hangman, fuck–“ He’s clearly very frustrated, you get, he’s feeling cornered and embarrassed, damn he almost hit the guy in front of the whole group.
“I slapped him just minute ago” you say and he chuckles slightly, the last reaction you thought you’d get from him right.
You hand finds his squeezing it gently.
He allows himself to relax a little. It’s just you, it’s always alright when he's with you.
He joins your lips with his before he thinks too much about it. He presses your back against the wood of the door, taking you by surprise. It takes you a moment to respond and sync up with his pace.
His lips feel rough over yours– desperate would be a better way to describe it. But he’s hurt, you at least could attempt to try and talk to him.
“Hey, we should –“ His head shakes denying anything you’re trying to say to him. He quickly shuts you up by pressing his mouth onto yours, harder this time. His tongue finds its way inside your mouth and you can’t help but to moan into his. “Rooster”.
He wants a distraction. And to be honest you could use one too. There was no point in resisting him.
The way you kiss him is almost in unspoken agreement between both of you. Your hands immediately shoot to his hair and down his neck.
“I need you baby”. He whispers on your skin. Shit alright.
Your hands start to untie the arms of his suit pulling it all the way down.
He straightens you up and his lips are on your neck, he nips the skin from that area until he manages to get a whimper out of your mouth. He smiles trying to catch a breath.
You push him off until the back of his knees hits his bed. He falls into the mattress lifting himself with his elbows. He looks at you impatiently for your next move.
You have to say the part you love the most of fucking with Rooster is the constant fight of who’s in charge.
And honestly Bradley can’t get enough of it either. The only thing rolling on his mind is how hot you look trying to handle him.
And shit, you looked even better stripping in front of him right now.
His gaze doesn’t leave you a single time. It follows you undoing your boots but he’s most excited when you slowly start to unzip your suit.
He reaches out to you trying to help you finish the job but he only gets pushed back into the mattress.
“Not yet” there is a small grin forming on his face by watching you step out of your suit. His eyes trail from your legs to your face. You’d stop being shy and nervous around him from the first couple of times sleeping with him. Fuck, you weren’t fully undressed and there he was hard as rock inside of his boxers.
You crawl over him and he still doesn't dare to touch you, his eyes never leave your own. You could still perceive a hint of the scent of musk and vanilla on him. Your knees stop when they reach his lap and you settle right on top of his cock.
“You’re going to have to give me a little more than that sweetheart” You chuckle having fun with him. Your palm pushes his chest down, you slowly start grinding on him, having him hiss right away “There we go”. Rooster groans.
You finally feel his tight grip on your hips making your pace faster. His hands trail up your sides lifting your shirt all the way up your rib cage until it’s off your body. The palm of his hand slides from your bellybutton to your breast squeezing and kneading them.
“Shit” he chokes out. He pulls you down, meeting him in a messy kiss. “I want to fuck you so badly already”.
He quickly puts on one of the condoms in his night stand before his mind drifts anywhere else.
“That eager Bradshaw?” that’s all it takes for him to hook his hands on the back of your thighs. He lifted you without a problem and in a second he had your back against the wall.
“You have no idea” He grinds a couple of more times on you adjusting your thighs around his waist making sure he has you how he wants you. “Hold tight babe”.
He stretched his neck up to keep his lips against yours moaning against them as he slammed into you again.
You are the one that guides him inside you, having you both gasp at the new sensation. Almost right away he is pounding hard into you leaving no time for you to adjust to him.
You have to steady yourself on his shoulders when you feel him go deeper. He bites the skin of your collarbone softly passing the tip of his tongue over it. He's always careful not to leave any sort of marks on you but this time he didn’t even care.
He gripped your thighs tightly when you clenched around him as the tip of his cock kept brushing on your sweet spot.
“Holy fuck–“ you say breathlessly.
He knows that you guys aren’t loud enough for someone else to hear. But he can’t help to like the thought of you moaning his name for everyone to hear that you're his.
Your face hides in the crook of his neck leaving open mouth kisses along it, loving the sensation of his moans vibrating against his throat.
Your eyes glide down taking a look at where your bodies are joined. The pleasure building inside you starts to feel a little overwhelming, your thighs tense up and your forehead ends up resting over his “Rooster”. It comes out more like a plead than you intended and it drives him crazy.
“I know baby”. He whispers.
He jerks you up in a sudden move, his arm on your waist holding you tighter against him. He’s thrusting faster and harder than before. Your nails dig into the skin of his shoulder blades in an attempt to hold on to him as best as you can.
It almost feels as if he is pulling out completely as he slams as deep and hard as he can into you.
You got so lost into him that you almost didn’t realize that you were about to cum. “Are you almost there?” He asks and you can bring yourself to answer so the only response you can give him is a desperate whimper.
He pounds a few more times and it finally explodes on you. He’s kissing you to drown the moans you're making. And he keeps doing it while he’s finally coming. It hits him harder than he thought it would, he feels like he's melting into you.
You take a moment to look at him. You’re sure he’s the most handsome guy you’ve seen in your life. God, you’re so in love with him.
You stay with him until he falls asleep. He usually doesn’t sleep very well but his soft snoring filled the room not too long after.
You leave his room making sure to set his alarm for the morning.
It wasn’t late so seeing Maverick waiting outside your door didn’t surprise you that much.
“Lieutenant Metcalf” You felt he was angry. Part of you was glad he wasn’t disappointed.
You’ve known him for a long time, your grandfather was his instructor when he was in Top Gun. You’d occasionally check on him throughout the years but never were exactly close to him, not like he is– or was– with Rooster.
“Are you here to lecture me?” You weren’t intending to come out as defensive as you did.
“No, but it’s not that hard to put one and two together”. He’s still irritated from training and you can’t blame him. “I should kick one of you off the team” his arms were crossed over his chest.
The thing about Maverick is that you knew no matter how bad his ass was in the line he would always have the back of the people he loved.
“Are you?” He tried to ignore the obvious fact that you look like you just got fucked despite your efforts of trying to clean your self up.
“That’s up to you”. His voice got softer. “Get some rest Cherry”.
“Yes sir”.
Contrary to Rooster, you kept tossing and turning in the bed all night. Your mind just kept on wandering off to what could happen to Bradley and you once Maverick was out of the picture.
You really didn’t want to think of the possibility of not flying with him anymore.
Best thing for now is to keep your hands off each other and hope for the best.
That was until you were headed to the beach the very next day and the hickeys on your tits were very visible with the sports bra you were planning to wear.
You would’ve gotten away with the simple white shirt you used as your cover up if Coyote and Hangman hadn't decided to be funny and pulled you and Phoenix to the water making your shirt very see through.
“Damn Cherry, you should've told me I was being too hard last night”. Jake pointed out sarcastically at the now visible dark marks on your chest. “You know how much I hate putting on a show”.
“I bet you do Hangman” Rooster said, coming up towards you, helping you out of the water and draping his hawaiian shirt on your shoulders and wrapping one of his hands on your waist lifting you to his side.
He didn’t care that all eyes were on you guys, but shit, Cyclone didn’t have to show up right at that moment.
You knew you were fucked when he whispered to Maverick.
“What’s going on with those two?” He pointed out to both of you.
“They must be very competitive sir”.
4K notes · View notes
hotluncheddie · 1 year
Text
stop being a goblin and let me kiss you
part 2
˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚
steve is at the diner with robin and eddie, after another mind numbing shift at the ol’ FV. thankfully, eddie came in a little while before close so the time went a lot quicker. steve might honestly tell him to come in even more because the clock just seems to become his best friend when eddies around; jumping nonsense off of robin, telling steve random shit about himself and laughing at all of steve jokes. (which his jokes deserve, of course, obviously. no matter what robin likes to say, knock knock is a classic set up.)
steve sat across from eddie and ordered his favourite milkshake, making eddie bat his eyelashes and make fun of steve. ‘milkshakes at a diner stevie? all you’re missing is the cheerleader and letterman.’ and steve rolled his eyes, about to let eddie know he still has his letterman and eddie can borrow it anytime. but robin had been sparked into talking about the most recent band drama that happened after the game the other night.
steve cared about the gossip, really he did. but eddie ordered fries and now yeah, sure, normal diner behaviour. however, eddie likes adding salt to his fries, like a lot of it. which means he’s constantly licking his fingers clean, like, thumb in his mouth, sucking. and that image is making a lot of very fun and interesting scenarios pop up in steves head. very fun, very cool scenarios.
so steve is distracted, playing with his whipped cream and cherry, half listening to eddie talk about hash browns but mostly just thinking about fingers, and mouths.
eddie, for some reason steve cannot fucking fathom, likes to pretend he’s not into steve, like they don’t flirt and like he doesn’t know steve is very much into eddie. steve knows what someone looks like when they’re into him and eddie is into steve. eddie just seems to have a mental block because no matter how much steve touches his arm or hair or tells him he has nice eyes, or like, flirts back at eddies initial flirting, eddie just gets bright red and changes the subject. it’s very cute. but dumb, because they could still do all that while also making some of those fun, pretty, fingers near mouths images a reality.
so, offence is the best defence as they say, defence being eddies self built cock block castle. but lucky for eddie steve is feeling pretty chivalrous so he’ll attempt to scale the castle walls again and hope some day soon eddie will just open the fucking door.
steve sticks his cherry in his mouth, pulls out the moves, ties the stem easy as pie and now, cherry on top, the wink.
gotcha. eddie saw the whole thing, beet red, soda up his nose. the moves never fail. steve did not plan for eddie to leave for the bathroom right after (hates to see him go, loves to watch him walk away) and has to deal with robin and her overprotectiveness when it come to eddie. but come on! he obviously liked it!
she knows steve likes eddie and wouldn’t be surprised if eddie talks to robin about steve. he would, if he was eddie. but she still more often than not gives steve a very pointed look if she feels he’s stepped over some invisible line she’s made up, like there some rule to how bisexual he’s allowed to be at certain moments of the day, particularly around eddie munson.
‘stop messing with him!’ she’s hissing but there’s a little smile on her face too.
‘i’m not! i’m just, presenting him with some facts, some info.’ steve rests his chin in his palm and mumbles quietly ‘not my fault he kept sucking on his damn fingers.’ aware that they are very much in public.
‘god, i am so sick of you both. you gotta talk to him steve, or stop, or something because i’m actually about to go back to doing puzzles with my nana on weekends if i have to deal with you two dancing around each other any longer.’
steve pouts ‘i love puzzles, and your nana, you cant go do that without me bob’s, that’s mean.’ robin groans and clunks her head on the table. ‘ughhh you are so weird! it astounds me every day that you used to be popular. people are so dumb.’
steve pats her head smiling. ‘yeah well good aim goes a long way.’ robin groans louder. ‘i’ll talk to him though, sir steven will break through those castle walls one way or another.’
robin lifts her head to squint at him, face of utter distain. ‘love you.’
‘love u too boobie.’
˚✧₊⁎ ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ⁎⁺˳✧༚
part 1 (eddie) part 3 (eddie) part 4 (steve) part 5 (eddie) part 6 (steve) part 7 (eddie)
@mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @gregre369
u asked for it :)
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cosmal · 1 year
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cake — send me in a character and a prompt and i’ll write you a blurb!
tasm!peter x reader who’s insecure about their stretch marks or hip dips or being flat chested!!! literally any or all of those. he’d be the most comforting ever I’m swooning. (this is not self indulgent at all btw)
spiderwebs
summary peter makes you feel better about your stretch marks.
content tasm!peterparker x fem!reader, reader has body image issues
note mal i love you for this shut up. also I love u.
Peter is kissing you. He's been kissing you for the past ten minutes and you feel like your entire body is on fire.
He hovers above you but still keeps his weight pushed into your torso until you feel breathless with it. Where his elbow is firm up against your side, and his hand at your throat with his thumb in your pulse point.
You feel like you could melt right into the mattress every time he sucks on your bottom lip or when he pulls away to look at you. He blinks hard and says, "Shit," under his breath like he's amazed. You feel quite alike.
He sneaks down the bed, pushing the heavy quilt down until it slides off to the floor. He looks up at you where you're panting, head turned to the side and pushed into your pillow. A smile that Peter thinks is quite unravelling. He starts to push your shirt up, over the bump of your belly and holds it below your bralette.
He starts to kiss along your stomach and you freeze. He peppers tiny wet smacks over the skin you really wish he wouldn't. Weeks of doing your best of keeping your top on around him and hiding yourself from your boyfriend unravel and you shouldn't be this terrified about it.
You push your hands into his curls and say his name. He seems too busy. "Hey, baby," you say quietly, voice shaky when you don't want it to be.
Peter must feel you tense up. He lifts his face and looks worried, hair a mess and eyebrows pinched. His swollen lips glisten under the light on his bedside table.
"You okay?'' he asks gently, sitting up on his arm. "Did I do something?"
You feel worse when he asks because it's not his fault. You shouldn't be so jumpy around your boyfriend when he touches you. "No, I just..." you can't find it in you to explain it to him because you feel stupid. Especially when he'd been loving on you so hard.
"You're not feeling sick?" he gets up and tucks his feet under him to kneel, half a breath away from a panic.
You sit up too, leaning back on your elbows, frowning. "No, I'm...I'm okay, don't worry about it, baby."
He smooths a hand down your stomach and you tense up again unthinkingly. "You sure you're okay?"
You duck your head down and worry you're acting childish. "It's silly."
He squeezes your thigh and smiles something that calms you more than you think he knows. Soft eyes and even worse cheeks, appled and creased around his mouth. "I'm sure it's not."
"I just," you bite your tongue for a moment and work up enough courage to say more. It doesn't take much because he's just Pete. He'd never make you feel bad for feeling things. "I have stretch marks down there. Like on my belly and my hips."
Peter grins. "I know right." Your stomach churns. "They're so cool, huh?"
"What?"
He holds your hip and it startles you how much you don't hate it this time. His thumb traces over the marks absentmindedly like he already knows their path. "They're so pretty."
Your mouth feels a little dry. "Pete..."
He tamps it down a notch, nibbling his bottom lip unthinkingly. "Sorry, okay..." he starts, shuffling up the bed to meet you. "I love them."
"You do?" It's easier to stare at his nose than look into his sparkly eyes.
"Yeah," he nods, hair all floppy, "I think they're amazing."
"They're not ugly?" You hate yourself when you ask it. You're not sure why you do.
"Not at all. Look," he lifts up his shirt and turns to face his hip to you, "I have them too. Grew up too fast, I think."
You reach out to touch them. Running your fingertips over the marks along his hip and in towards his tummy. You think they look a lot nicer on him than they do you. You hum under your breath, you'd never noticed them before, and if you did, they hadn't bothered you one bit. You think he must feel the same way.
"They're pretty," you say quietly, more to yourself. You feel him shiver under your light touch.
"Not as much as yours." Pete falls down again until he's leaning over your stomach again. He kisses over them and you don't feel the need to tell him to stop this time. You relax like butter in the hot sun. You feel just as warm.
He suckles the soft skin and you twitch. "Pete," you gasp.
He pulls back looking proud, mouth popping crudely. "Yours are like little spiderwebs."
You feel a little dizzy suddenly, your arms wobbling under your weight. You lay back down before Peter can make fun of you for it. "Spiderwebs, huh?" you say breathlessly to the ceiling.
"Yeah," he agrees. Suddenly he's above you. Boyish grin that burns brighter than the downlight you were staring at. You close your eyes lest you're blinded by his charm. "It's like a part of me on you. Not as sticky though."
"Jesus," you giggle.
"Do you have any more?" he suddenly asks.
"Huh?"
He bounces up. "Any other marks? I wanna kiss them all. Gotta show my girl how much I love them."
"Peter, no."
"No, you don't have any, or no you don't want me to kiss you?" he asks incredulously. "That's really mean, baby."
"You're unbelievable." You can't help but laugh some more.
"Quick, give me your arms, I wanna look." Peter reaches for you and you roll over out of his grasp.
Peter searches until he finds them. You're less than horrified when he does, you're genuinely happy you have others he can touch. He kisses them for what feels like hours until you convince him it's your turn.
You kiss his until he's putty.
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