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#even when they got it through their skulls that *i* didn't want to
jeonginsleftcheek · 2 days
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B for Breath Play
hwang hyunjin x afab!reader
warning/s: choking
a/n: established relationship, some fluff if you squint
notes: this man is the death of me
The many paintings and portraits of you that adorned your boyfriend's studio always made you feel breathless, but for the first time you noticed they had something in common (except you, of course). They all seemed to somehow be focused on your neck. You asked Hyunjin about it and at first he got shy and flustered, after all, your relationship was still new but you were already head over heels for this man.
Then, when you asked him again, he told you, shyly at first, how he loves the perfume you spray below your ear, how he loves to kiss and bite your skin, how comforting it is to bury his face in your neck while you hold him.
"And, I'd love to wrap my hands around it while we make love."- he admits with a smirk and you seem flustered after hearing his confession.
You were silent for a second and Hyunjin's face fell, worrying that he might've crossed a line you haven't talked about yet.
"I-I'm sorry Y/N, if that's too much-" - he starts but you stop him.
"No, it's okay. We can try that. But on one condition."- you smirk.
"Anything."- Hyunjin nods eagerly.
"I get to wrap my hands around your neck too."- you say and it's Hyunjin's turn to look flustered now.
They already are, with the hold you have on him, he wants to tell you but he says nothing, only agrees to your proposition.
Now, with his cock buried deep inside you, rolling his hips slowly, Hyunjin is grabbing your wrist gently, bringing your hand closer to his throat.
You feel nervous even though both of you prepared and knew how to do this safely, you didn't want to accidentally harm your lover in any way. Hyunjin could see the hesitation in your eyes and he reassured you with a gentle squeeze of your wrist and a slow roll of his hips, his hot skin brushing against your clit deliciously.
"Please Y/N. Take my breath away." - he says lowly, playing with your fingers, his hard cock dragging against your warm walls. Your eyes almost roll back in your skull the way he's begging, his eyes pure lust as he looks at you through his bangs. You gently put your hand around his neck and slowly press your fingers into his skin. Hyunjin's breath hitches in his throat, his hips stuttering a little before he relaxes into your touch and starts fucking you a little faster.
He likes it, he likes it a lot, the way you hold his neck like that, the power you have over his life in that moment. He thinks he wouldn't mind dying buried deep inside you like that.
When you release him he whimpers loudly, fucking you faster and deeper, his cock stretching you just right.
"Fuck Y/N!"- Hyunjin moans, his hand traveling up to rest on your neck. He leans down to brush his sweet lips against yours, the air between you mixing for a few moments, both of you breathing each other in as he fucks into you more desperately. Even in the heated moment, he looks at you for consent, for any sign that you don't want him to do this, his eyes full of love for you. You nod slightly and he smirks pressing on your neck, pretty fingers wrapped around you. He looks at the way your lips fall open and your eyes flutter and makes a mental picture of your fucked out face for a painting, after all you're his main inspiration.
He leans in closer again, his lips on yours, gentle, as he runs them over your cheek until you feel his breath hit your ear, your head spinning as you near your orgasm.
"I wanna be the air you breathe."- Hyunjin whispers.
You already are, you want to say but even after he released your neck, you are still breathless.
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fushiglow · 3 days
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satosugu mailman au 💌
a very special delivery for @kymsys's birthday! how many days will it take for satoru to fall in love with his new mailman? let's find out!!
here's part one for my tumblr pals to enjoy! however, i'll be posting this work over quite a few days over on twitter/x, so please head over there if you want to follow along! if you don't have an account, i'll be uploading the entire thing to my ao3 when it's done — so don't fret ♥️ enjoy the fic!!
There were three things Gojō Satoru loved above all else: sweets, scale model kits, and sleep. He was a simple man in that sense — really, he asked for very little except a healthy supply of sugary treats, the occasional plastic mech, and an undisturbed lie-in seven days a week. So, when the shrill ring of his doorbell wrenched Satoru from a beautiful dream at exactly 8am on a Monday morning? Needless to say, he wasn’t pleased. Now, Satoru wasn’t an unreasonable person. He understood that the rest of the world started moving a little earlier than him — which is why Satoru had taken special measures to protect his precious rest without hindering anyone else. He’d chosen a job that allowed him to work from home, forgone the company of a housemate in favour of living alone, and — most importantly for a hobbyist like Satoru who ordered more kits, paints, and crafting tools than any one person needed — installed a secure parcel drop box outside his front door, preventing the need for anyone to pester him. That’s why Satoru didn’t bother getting out of bed after the first ring, assuming that the person who’d decided to disturb him would eventually figure it out for themselves. Perhaps they were a bit slow though — because less than thirty seconds later, the doorbell came screaming through the house again. Swearing into his pillow, Satoru pulled the duvet up to his ears. All he could do was hope they’d leave quickly so he could snatch at least some sleep in the 45 minutes left until his alarm went off. No such luck. Right when Satoru thought it was safe to relax, the doorbell started up again — and this time, it didn’t stop. With a stream of profanities falling from his lips, Satoru hauled himself out of bed, seeing red as he stomped down the stairs and marched across the hallway to the front door. He flung it open with a frustrated snarl, preparing to share some choice words with the impatient piece of shit on the other side — only for his insults to die on his tongue at the sight of the man standing before him. The broadest shoulders he’d ever laid eyes on; thick arms, tanned and toned; a muscular torso tapering down to a tiny waist — and all packaged in a uniform, for god’s sake. When Satoru finally managed to lift his jaw off the floor, he looked up at the man’s face and the damn thing unhinged from his skull all over again. He was all sharp cheekbones and sunkissed skin and the sweetest smile Satoru had ever seen. Perhaps a little too sweet now that he really looked at it. ‘I think your doorbell is broken.’
Sure, the guy was hot — easily the prettiest person Satoru had ever seen — but that didn’t stop his eye from twitching at the blatant passive aggression masked behind that sickly sweet smile. Satoru matched it with one of his own. ‘I assure you, it’s not.’ ‘Oh, I’m so sorry!’ Satoru didn't think he seemed sorry in the slightest — even if his voice did sound like melted chocolate. ‘I’ve got a parcel for Gojō Satoru?’ When hot mailman tilted his head to the right, a lock of glossy black hair fell into his face. Too short to secure in his bun and too short to tuck behind his ear, he simply brushed it away from warm eyes the colour of honey. Satoru wondered if every part of him was as gorgeous. ‘It needs a signature.’ Shocked out of his stupor, Satoru's gaze travelled to the box at the right of the door. ’The regular guy always puts them in there.’ Hot mailman simply beamed at him. ‘Do I look like the regular guy to you?’ No, Satoru thought. There’s nothing regular about you. As though he could read minds, hot mailman winked at him. ‘Then I’ll need a signature, please.’ And god — he was so effortlessly charming that, for the first time in his life, Satoru found himself speechless. For a long moment, he simply stood there, gawping like an idiot. When hot mailman eventually quirked an amused eyebrow in his direction, Satoru had no choice but to take the signature pad being waved at him, managing to make a hash of his name before wordlessly handing it back. Having completely and utterly embarrassed himself, Satoru had started to retreat into the safety of his home when a strong hand closed around the edge of the door. Hot mailman popped his head around the side. ‘You forgot your parcel.’ Satoru watched those amber eyes as they slid down the length of his body — and hot mailman's sickly sweet smile morphed into a devilish grin. ‘Your clothes, too.’ Glancing down at himself, Satoru’s heart stopped in his chest when he realised he’d answered the door in nothing but his boxers — and not fitted Calvin Kleins that emphasised what he was working with either. No, the ratty, stretched out Digimon boxers he’d owned since he was 17. With a mortified squeak, Satoru snatched the parcel from hot mailman’s hands and slammed the door in his face, uncaring of whether his stupid bangs got caught in the doorframe. Tossing the package onto the floor, Satoru brought his palms to his rapidly heating cheeks, taking a moment to stare into the silence of his hallway. Then, he summoned all the air in his lungs and let out the single loudest ‘fuck!’ he’d ever produced. Hot mailman’s beautiful laughter travelled down the entire length of the driveway.
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skull-storm-daily · 2 years
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5/11/2022 (curious egg deck)
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shotmrmiller · 26 days
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johnny dates your friend and then asks her if she's got any friends (you) for his friend (simon). but simon freaks you out. he can't hold a conversation— or won't, you're not sure; you're lucky if you get monosyllabic grunts out of him as if he were a neanderthal. the only times you've seriously heard him talk is to bark out words at either johnny or the bartender.
he walks around with a poorly concealed weapon on his hip, almost like he is expecting trouble. he wears all black, which is completely fine, but then a skull balaclava that he refuses to take off, even to drink his liquor. you don't try to hide the grimace on your face when you watch him sip through the thick fabric. he's got skeleton gloves on his hands too, like some sort of shit cosplay to match his mask.
and he fucking stares, unashamedly so. it is unblinking, scrutinizing, intense— his dark eyes, pools of midnight, keen. he stares at the people walking in through the door, stares at johnny when he takes your friend to the dance floor, and when you tell him out of courtesy that you're going to go get another drink, you can feel him boring holes into the back of your head as you walk away, piercing flesh and bone.
the phantom fingers of his gaze trace icy paths along your spine, erupting your skin in goosebumps. you find him immensely creepy, and you thank the fucking stars you're only here as a favor for your friend. you don't think you want to do this again. he's either a wanted serial killer or just a goddamn freak.
a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders once you're at the bar, and with a sneer on your lips, you turn to the owner of said offending limb, only to come face to face with johnny. he leans into you, close enough to where you can feel his stubble grazing the shell of your ear. (back up, brother.)
"listen, bonnie!" you wince; it's really not that loud in here for him to be yelling like that. "ah ken, ghos— er, simon, might no' be yer average man. he can be a little off-puttin'—" a little? if he doesn't follow you home and skin you alive, you'd be incredibly fortunate— "but ah promise ye, while he may no' be boyfriend material, he's an incredible fuck."
excuse me? he's got to be positively pissed. "maybe you should slow down, yeah? you might already be three sheets to the wind if you're gassing up your unsettling friend's cock. no offense."
"naw! ah'm tellin' ye. long ago, we had a mission tha' ran everyone tight, 'n so we relieved tension the only way we could— big, strong guy like him had me limpin' for a few days after."
you're about to ask for an angel shot because there is no way in hell that your friend's boyfriend is making casual conversation about him getting absolutely railed by—
"give 'em a try. jus' the once, i swear he don't bite," johnny pauses-- the rosy flush on his nose and cheeks vibrant, "unless ye ask nicely. yer friend said ye needed to get laid, anyways." oh, you're gonna fucking kill her, that long-tongued cretin.
"right!" you drink the remainder of your cocktail in one big gulp, liquid warmth trailing down your throat, before not-so-kindly shrugging him off. "i'm gonna go, you, uh— we didn't have this conversation, for the sake of my friend." you gesture at the bartender. "one more, please. i'm gonna need it."
-
damn. now johnny's got you thinking about getting your back broken by simon. maybe you really are just down horrendously, or maybe it's the alcohol in your system that has decided to toss all self-preservation out the metaphorical window because now you can't stop noticing him.
he's real tall— enough to have him slightly tipping his head to walk through a doorway. his shoulders are mountainous, his hands the size of a bear's paw. his physicality is undoubtedly impressive and well, you've always been weak to burly, commanding men.
you make eye contact with johnny from across the room, his bright blue eyes alive under the dim light of the dingy bar, and the bastard shifts his gaze from simon to you, giving a cheeky wink.
lifting your glass, you drink the last of your liquid courage— the taste of it bittersweet. it has been a long time since you've gotten laid.
double damn.
"hey." you lean slightly toward simon, cupping your hand around your mouth. "you and i both know why we're here. take me home?" the way he looks at you has you shifting restlessly in your seat. did you perhaps make a mistake? oh, fuck. did you just throw yourself cunt-first at someone who is not interested? your face burns with embarrassment, heat licking up your cheeks. maybe the earth will split open, right here ri—
"let's go then." oh thank fucking god. you don't know what you would've done if he'd said no. shrivel up and die, probably. "uber'll be here in 4."
when it arrives, he places his leather jacket around your shoulders, cocooning you in its warmth— the heady scent of nicotine clings to the garment— and leads you outside with a hand on the small of your back.
-
the world outside the car blurs into a hazy painting as the driver navigates the streets. colors blend together, once sharp outlines now dissolved. the rain gently taps on the window, a soothing sound that could easily lull you to sleep until you start when a roughened palm suddenly glides along your thigh— fingers slowly tracing intimate patterns on your skin.
simon's hand is hot, and it only burns hotter the closer it gets to your center under your least favorite skirt. he cannot be serious right now. you place your hand over his, short nails biting into him because there is no way you're about to be fingered in an uber—
his voice is deep, a deliciously thick rumble, right by your ear. "nice kitty." you've never been one for pet names or anything else for that matter, but the pulse of arousal that shoots up your spine has a shaky exhale leaving your lips, a ghostly breath fogging up the window.
the tips of his fingers tease the seam of your knickers, a generic cotton fabric that clings to your dampening cunt like a second skin— desire trickling onto the gusset. your whimper is drowned out by the terrible music the driver is currently playing when his small finger grazes over your slit, featherlight.
"so wet already? i've barely even touched ya, love." again with the cunt-clenching nicknames. he has no business purring them out like that. "i can smell your sweet pussy from here. you really must be achin' for it." of course the time he chooses to be vocal, it's to spew filth. "don't worry, i'll treat ya good."
somehow, you actually manage to choke out a response. "i'm sure. johnny-" you hiss through clenched teeth when he slips under your knickers, a finger brushing along your slick entrance, "said you had him walking side to side once." you buck your hips, seeking the friction you need, but it only makes him pull away a bit; how unsurprisingly cruel.
"only because he was bein' a brat. you're not a brat though, are ya? gonna be good f'me?" your tongue is heavy in your mouth, words lodged in your throat— all you can give him is a slight nod. "i expect verbal answers. i'd hate to spank your arse raw. how would ya sit down after?"
the idea of being bent over his strong thighs, face pressed into his couch as his firm hand takes you into the needy subspace you crave is too much, or maybe not enough because you're tucking your face into the side of his neck in an instant. "please," you warble, unsure of what you're even begging for.
he curls his finger, slipping between your lips, and when he finally brushes your clit— a fleeting, tantalizing touch— your eyes threaten to roll into the back of your head. "needy little thing. i bet there's a damp spot right where you're sittin'. drippin' all over my fingers—" your breath is ripped from your lungs when he abruptly pulls his hand out and away, the sodden material of your knickers snapping against your heated skin. you're about to snarl out a vicious what the fuck, but the once-blurred scenery outside sharpens into focus.
the driver parks and looks at you from the rearview mirror. "we're here." you mumble a muted thank you, stepping out with quivering legs and a drenched cunt. a crisp breeze dances across your skin, a refreshing contrast to the stifling heat from inside the car.
as soon as the car drives off, you're hoisted onto a broad shoulder. the world tilts, and you fist the back of simon's shirt for stability. "highly unnecessary. i can wa—" you let out a squeak when he slaps the back of your thigh, the sharp bite of it sending a jolt straight to your throbbing center.
"hush."
you sputter indignantly as you hold on tighter, breaths coming out in short gasps, syncing with each step. "i beg your pardon?"
you yelp when he gives you another slap, this time closer to your cunt. "then beg." you're rendered speechless.
wow. maybe you've actually bitten off more than you can chew.
the wet cement under you is a blur, the texture lost in the rush of his movements until he comes to a stop, and you hear a familiar jingle of keys. he bursts through the door, the hinges groaning in protest, and you're staggeringly planted on both feet.
"nice place." a lie. it looks unlived in— brand spanking new. you vaguely hear the lock behind you as you take in your surroundings. a perfect, leather couch, not a crease in sight. the rug under it is pristine and bland, a cream color that matches the rest of his flat. impersonal. not an ounce of real personality anywhere. you begin shrugging off his jacket when you're suddenly pressed against the cold door, simon bent at the knees in front of you, his dark eyes— sharp as blades— lock onto yours.
"gonna beg?"
the fire in your lower belly reignites at the sight of his unmasked face. ash-brown hair in a simple crew cut, thick brows with the right one bisected by a pink, gnarled scar. slightly crooked nose, broken one too many times, and thin, pale lips. a countenance to match his rugged personality.
you're pulled out of your thoughts when he licks a hot stripe over your covered slit and you mewl at the sensation. "i asked you a question."
the words rush out of your mouth before you can even think of stopping them. "yes, yes! please, god, i don't- just- please let me come! i-" his thumbs hook into the waistband of your knickers and tug them down slowly, strings of arousal sticking to the gusset, smearing on your inner thighs.
"alrigh', since ya begged so prettily." your vision goes white when he throws one leg over his shoulder, and his slick tongue slides through your folds, the tip flicking your clit lightly. he laps at your cunt like it drips milk and honey— nourishing and sweet. simon groans into you, the sound crawling up your vertebrae and into the base of your skull.
he begins to draw lazy circles around your pearl, every swirl of his tongue has your back bowing as if winding it, inching you closer to the precipice. your toes curl in your shoes, hands finding purchase in his coarse hair, knuckles staining white as you start the feel the familiar tightening in your lower belly.
and then he pushes one thick finger into you, down to the scarred knuckle, and crooks it. the squelching noise your dripping pussy makes when he presses on the tiny patch of rough skin inside is loud and obscene; practically echoing off the dull, ivory walls of his flat.
"gonna come f'me? make a mess all over my hand?" simon adds another finger, a slight burn nipping at the heels of the pleasure coiling under your navel.
"c'mon. give it to me, pet." his lips encircle your clit, giving it a light suckle and it's—
the coil snaps, a sudden release of tension. it is violent and oh, so exquisite. white noise in your head, your ears, coursing through your veins. it prickles, it stings; it's pleasure and pain. your soul sinks back into your body— like a feather returning to its nest— and you blink, momentarily unbalanced.
"ya with me?"
you breathe deep— the taste of salt in the air, the scent of sweat-slick skin, your heart pulsing with life. "yes. i'm here." the man took you to the stars and laid you on them. jesus.
"good." the room spins, and you're weightless, nestled in his arms. it'd seem innocent if it wasn't for the stickiness in between your thighs, or the prominent bulge in his jeans occasionally pressing into your arse.
simon kicks a door open, knob bouncing off the wall with a crack, and quickly places you on the bed before tugging his shirt off. the belt and jeans come off next, and—
"you don't wear pants." why would he let that monstrosity just hang like that?
"good observation. is water still wet?" he asks, tonelessly. you narrow your eyes at him, pushing your tongue against the back of your teeth.
"fuck me for having eyes and using them as intended, i guess," you mumble under your breath. he grabs you by the ankle and tugs the skirt off, then your shoes, "ouch, i like my feet where they are, thank you," and literally rips your shirt in half. "you'll be giving me on of yours before i leave as recompense."
he holds himself up with his arms over you, your thighs burning as they cradle his hips.
his cock is a heavy, hot weight on your stomach— ruddy, leaking tip right under your navel. you're not small by any means, but he's going to tear you in half. there's no surviving such an onslaught. he's not just leaving you with a limp, he's going to turn your two smaller holes into one big one.
he tears into a golden wrapper with his teeth, and expertly rolls the condom on. simon lowers down to his elbows and nudges your jaw with his nose. "i'll stop the moment ya call it. tap on me if you're feelin' overwhelmed."
that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to you, and the fact that it comes from a massive creep who stares at people like they owe him money has you a bit dumbstruck.
his stubble grazes the side of your neck as he glides his cock along your slick folds; once, thrice, until the head catches on your swollen entrance. simon pushes in slow, agonizingly slow— you don't know if it's better or worse because you feel every devastating inch of his length as it forcibly wrenches your walls apart.
your senses are solely focused on him: his body enveloping yours completely. his breath, sweetened like malt, wafts gently across your skin. his thick waist that you can't fully wrap your legs around. everything about him is big— his physicality, his presence, his cock.
"take a deep breath for me, pet. feel everythin' i'm givin' you."
your lungs expand as you do, and when you exhale, your muscles slacken. rapturous pleasure begins to bleed through the delicate membrane that separates it from the bite of pain, until boundaries are blurred and—
and he sinks into you like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water, bottoming out in one, smooth stroke. you can't help the mewl that falls from your lips nor the way your walls clamp down around him.
"fuck, there it is. so bloody tight, this greedy cunt is takin' my cock like it was made for me."
there isn't a single coherent thought in your head and you're glad for it. finally, someone to fuck you stupid.
simon gives you an experimental thrust, dragging his length along every single one of your nerves, and then another— desire overflowing from where he stuffs you to the very brim. "good. ready?"
he takes your tiny nod as an answer this time and begins to fuck you in earnest. it takes everything in you to not black out from how perfect it felt.
simon puts his weight behind every thrust, a steady pull out, and a spine-jarring push in. you can feel him deep in your stomach, a delicious pinch of discomfort each time he presses against the plug of your womb.
"so fuckin' wet, your cunt's droolin' all over me." he hooks an arm under your left leg and lifts, the angle he's put you in tittering dangerously on the tightrope of rapture and ache.
it's so good, so fucking good, your slick walls fluttering as he carves himself into you, your soul, your cunt when you feel a tight snap inside.
simon pulls out in an instant, taking your breath with him as he does. you look down at his cock and notice that—
"the condom broke. i've got another in the drawer, gimme a sec."
there is some weird thing that lodges in place somewhere deep in your sternum when you realize that he's been nothing but considerate and attentive to you since he brought you home and hasn't fussed over anything once. it's an extremely low bar, you are aware. rewarding what should be the bare fucking minimum is sad, but you're not completely altruistic in your motives anyway. you want to feel his bare cock inside as he rearranges your insides.
"no!" he quickly turns to look at you, "no. it's okay. i'm clean and i'm also on the pill. if that's okay with you, of course."
a man his stature should not move as fast as he just did, blinking from one side of the room to the other. he quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, heels resting on his back when he sinks back in, this time letting out a guttural groan as he does.
you can feel the ridge of his flared head, the warmth of his cock seeping into your tender walls— a new level of intimacy. he fucks you with fervor now, a precise snap of his hips that has your teeth clacking with every thrust.
your climax takes you by complete surprise, crashing into you like waves on a rocky, jagged shore. burst after burst of blinding pleasure threatens to consume you whole, and when your limbs are loose and syrupy— body limp— only then do you realize that he came just as fast. thick white ropes of viscous spend cover your stomach and trail down to your abused cunt.
your hamstrings already hurt with delayed onset muscle soreness. you might actually need a wheelchair to go back home.
(thank god your hips held out, and no, you don't care that it's essentially sacrilegious of you to even think that.)
his breathing comes out in ragged bursts, beads of sweat dripping onto the valley of your breasts.
and he's back to the fucking staring. "simon."
"pet."
"please stop looking at me like that."
he huffs and dips his head to flick your hardened nipple with his tongue, making you hiss with over sensitivity.
"make me."
-
as dawn breaks, the world begins to stir awake. hues of pale pink stain the sky, the first blush of morning. light and shadow begin to blend in the bedroom.
your phone vibrates under the pillow, simon's arm tightening around your soft waist at the buzzing sound. his lips press a light kiss on the sensitive skin by your ear, and his large hand begins to weave its way downward, pads of his fingers gathering the evidence of last night (or early morning) and gently parts your folds, brushing light strokes on your clit.
when he places your leg around his hip and sinks into you from behind, your phone buzzes again-- alone and forgotten.
good morning!!! i expect a full, detailed report by lunch or so help you god.
sent 5:30 am
about time you got laid, you're not you when you're horny.
sent 5:49 am
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nsharks · 1 year
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can we see more of dad ghost ♥︎ im obsessedLMAO
“soft around the edges”
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aka when ghost’s son runs up to him in front of the team (a little part 2 to this fic. part 3 here.)
Soap doesn't share the Lieutenant's secret with the rest of the force.
Things go back to normal after that brief, bizarre encounter with you. When their break is over, Ghost carries on the typical dry humor and sharp orders, pretending that Soap never had dinner at his cozy home and met his pregnant wife.
Though, MacTavish does notice little differences in his stoic superior turned new dad. Ghost is shockingly, and ever-so-slightly, nicer. His language is still foul. But he's a little less rough around the edges: compliments Soap a bit more, tells him to shut the fuck up a little bit less.
It's not something that any of the others notice, of course, which is why they are all so baffled when they finally do figure out about Ghost's secret family.
It's two years later when they are disbanding at a base in the UK that you accidentally reveal yourself.
It's truly an accident.
Whenever you pick him up from the military base, Simon instructs you to wait outside. Says he doesn't want to put you at any risk. But you have a knack for not listening to him. You missed him so much during the past four months, and the two-year-old in your arms was old enough to start asking where his dad was, so you figured you could wait for him inside this time, hidden away in a corner.
Your plan might have worked if it weren't for the swell of your belly making it difficult for you to hold the squirming toddler.
He recognizes his dad even with the skull mask on.
Immediately starts to yelp for him, kicking his little feet around, and giving you no choice but to set the toddler down for a second. But your son is growing so much, and he's got his father's determination.
It's definitely riveting for Soap and the team to witness the whole thing unfold.
At first sight, the waddling two-year-old boy doesn't faze them. There were usually family members and little ones waiting at the gate. Gaz and Price are saying their goodbyes when they both notice that the toddler running around is coming in their direction. Or more specifically, in Ghost's direction.
Soap knows right away what's happening.
Watches with raised brows.
For the rest of the team, this is the first time they witness Ghost's demeanor shift to something so soft and peculiar. His mannerisms give everything away before the kid even reaches him: a typically-unfazed Ghost looks around frantically, probably wondering how the hell his son even got here, until he spots you waddling sheepishly after him.
Oh, fuckin' hell.
You give your husband an apologetic look that says I'm sorry and help me at the same time.
“Can’t believe what I’m seeing," Gaz mutters, watching as Ghost bends down to pick up the small child.
Tell me 'bout it, Soap wants to say. But he's already gone through the initial disbelief two years ago, so now, he simply watches with knowing eyes.
He can't say he didn't spend some time the past two years wondering what kind of parents you and Ghost had become. He knew bits and pieces of his past and hesitantly wondered if Ghost had carried on that behavior.
But now he witnesses the Lieutenant scoop the toddler in his arms, making him look so small against his broad chest. “I’ve got ya, kid.” And he is tucking the boy's head underneath his chin and pressing his masked nose to the top of his hair.
Then, the toddler reaches a small hand to his mask and pats it, perhaps harder than he realizes, but Ghost simply shakes his head and patiently wraps his much larger hand around the curious little one’s.
Ghost is soft and gentle and anything but angry, even though you worried that he might have been.
Everything seems to sink in for the team when they see you finally reach your husband. Your mouth moving to rush out apologies:
"I'm sorry, Simon, I know you said to wait outside. We just really wanted to see you and I tried to hold him and-"
And Ghost might have been frustrated on another day. But on this day, he’s just relieved to see you again. It's apparent to all of the eyes watching that this brooding man, with his deadpan eyes and a trademark mask, is utterly and unabashedly in love with you and the little family you have gifted him. Finally able to fully relax as he wraps an arm around your waist and nuzzles your neck, something you could never imagine him doing in public like this a few years ago.
“S’okay, love,” he tells you. “Can’t be mad, can I? Not when I get to see you two.”
You’re carrying his second child and he hasn't seen you in months and he simply doesn't give a fuck at the moment.
To his team watching, the Lieutenant seems like another person.
They're watching Simon, not Ghost.
"That's his girl, then?" Alejandro finally asks, as they have been frozen in place. Watching in curiosity and bewilderment.
“Wife seems like,” Gaz says. Shooting Soap a curious look, he adds, “Did you know anything about this?”
“Hell,” Soap shrugs to feign innocence. “Didn’t know a thing-“
But, of course, you’re soon waving over at him and smiling before your husband can stop you. “Hi, Johnny!”
Guilty and caught, Soap offers a small wave in return before shaking his head. “Christ, alright. May have ran into them awhile back.”
“And you didn’t tell us, MacTavish?” Gaz scoffs.
“Not my secret to tell,” Soap shrugs again and watches as Ghost caresses your pregnant stomach. He leans down to whisper something in your ear and you smile coyly at him, planting a little kiss to the cheek of his hard mask. Ghost is somehow able to hold you and your son firmly against his chest and still have more room. Must be what had the two of you realizing that a fourth family member was needed.
Soap hears the snide remarks as your family leaves and is out of earshot.
Looks like Ghost keeps himself busy on leave.
You think he helps with the diapers?
The kid’s even got his eyes.
Reckon he takes the mask off during sex?
Finally, Soap groans out, “Haud yer wheesht. That’s enough.”
“Sergeant’s right,” Price, whose own surprise has faded into something more stern, quiets the members of the team who are still lingering. “That’s your superior you’re gosspin’ about. Show some respect and bugger off.”
But once the Captain is gone, Soap allows himself this one quip (because, he’d been so good at not sharing what he’d seen for two years).
It’s a quiet one that he mentions only to Kyle.
“He takes her shopping an’ carries all the bags. Saw it myself.”
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theplumsoldier · 5 months
Text
sore loser
summary: the scales of your rivalry with joel miller tips in his favor as he calls out your mistake and you end up a loser. the classic "you hate your partner but fucks him anyway"
pairing: mean!joel miller x afab!reader
warnings: 18+ please and thank you, hate sex, rough vaginal sex, spitting, slapping, choking, fingering, squirting, sloppy/rough blow job, degradation, age-gap, begging, biting, mean!joel, forced orgasm & multiple orgasms, tasting joel's blood?? no aftercare please let me know if i missed anything!! (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)
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You hated everything about him. You hated the way he looked, the way he spoke, and the way he walked. You hated how he was always confident, how he was always right, and the fact that he always knew which buttons to push. You hated how he was a better shooter than you, how he was better at finding supplies than you, and how he was better at tracking than you. You hated his salt-and-pepper beard, the curls in his hair, and his sun-kissed skin. You hated his brown eyes, his deep voice, and his large hands. You hated how he treated you like a child, how he called you "kid", and how he looked after you.
Most of all, right now, you hated that he shot the clicker before you managed to put a knife to its skull, how he made it look like you couldn't save yourself. He took the win and he got the point.
It was a game and you were losing this battle for dominance, and you hated losing to Joel Miller.
You had been biting your tongue so damn hard to keep yourself from stooping down on his level and the taste of blood lingered in your mouth for about 4 minutes before the last straw had been drawn.
Joel just couldn't stop himself from being an ass and work in yet another one of his snarky remarks.
"Get over yourself, Miller. I had it handled," you grumbled.
"Sure looked like it," he retorted sarcastically, making scattering noises as he dug through a crate in the warehouse.
The way he didn't even bother looking at you only made you more furious. "How the fuck do you think I survived this long on my own, huh? I've been—"
"Ask myself that every time I save your ass," he interrupted mockingly.
Your blood was boiling in your veins. He felt so fucking superior and it was driving you insane. You knew your worth, but for some reason, you had this crippling urge to prove yourself.
"Somebody needs to knock you off your fucking horse, Miller."
Joel chuckled grimly. "S'that right, sweetheart? Wanna give it a go?"
His infuriating words made you stand to your feet, and frankly, it excited Joel to see you acting like you might just do something about it.
With a groan he got up himself, easily towering over you. You swallowed harshly, jaw clenched.
Joel's face was set in a firm expression, dark eyes analyzing your face to predict your next move. It was a face-off.
There was a subtle smirk and you wanted to wipe it off so badly. This was entertaining to him—a challenge he joined, a game he played just for the kick of it.
You couldn't win a fight against him, you were smart enough to recognize that fact (at least for now). So you breathed out, your nervousness drawing out a shaky laugh.
"I hate you," you spat and turned around, sure you'd only dig a deeper hole for yourself if you looked at him any longer.
"That what you tell yourself when you dip your little fingers down between your legs?" he wondered aloud, not even testing the waters but diving head first into the lake of all your buttons that he planned to push: "Don't think I don't hear you moaning my name when you get off in the night."
Your eyes went wide and shame colored your cheeks pink. You hoped he wouldn't notice as your eyes shot daggers, completely dumbfounded, hoped your anger had already made your face red. You were at a loss for words, completely and utterly embarrassed.
The mixture of emotions compiled a message to your brain for you, and before you had a chance to regret it, you lashed out. Your hand stopped clenching and raised to deliver a well-deserved proper bitch-slap, but Joel caught your wrist. It all happened quickly, and it felt like you were watching on rather than being forced back against the wall, arms suspended against the cool and rough cement in his grasp.
Joel's head cocked, eyes blazing down at you. "You wanna try that again, sweetheart?"
The sudden close proximity made you involuntarily grind your hips forward.
"So that's what all this s'about, huh? You’ve been givin' me that bratty attitude 'cause ya got your panties in a twist?"
"Fuck you!" you snapped, the words seething through your grit teeth, leaving a bad aftertaste on your tongue.
"But that's what you want, innit sweetheart? Goin' around acting like I'm the devil's spawn, but really you just want a good fucking, yeah?"
You hated how he was always right.
Your arms strained in his grasp, writhing to get loose though the heat pooling between your legs protested. You enjoyed having him this close. You could smell him, see him.
"You're so fucking full of yourself, Miller," you snarled but had stopped trying to fight off his grip.
Joel chuckled down at you, tutting: "F’you wanna be full o' me, too, darlin', all you gotta do is ask nicely."
There was no fucking way he was actually offering to fuck you. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. But it wasn't. And he was offering exactly that, you realized as his head tilted. He was dead serious.
You knew it wasn't out of the good of his heart, so he must be wanting this, too. And if he needed it as much as you did, you were going to make him work for it.
You ground your hips into his again, this time very much on purpose.
"Tell me you don't want to bend me over right now, Miller," you leaned forward and whispered in his ear, letting your lips graze the soft flesh of his neck. His cock was hard against your cunt and he didn't do a thing to push you away. "Tell me you haven't just been dying to try out this tight pussy. An old man like you can't have had a proper fuck in ages."
He laughed. "Swallow your pride, sweetheart. You've never even been with a real man before, have ya? Always waltzin' around in your short skirts at the Byson, whoring yourself out for attention from those boys."
"Knew you'd been checking me out," you smirked, the movements of your hips now a consistent grind against him. "But you're right. And those boys can't help, they dunno how to handle me."
"I don't do charities, darlin'. F’you want me to fuck that shitty attitude out of ya, you're gonna have to prove yourself."
This time around, Joel pushed his clothed cock against your pussy and you knew what he wanted.
You wriggled your hands, inching closer to his face but never letting your skin touch. "Kinda difficult to get on my knees when you’re holding me like this, innit?"
Joel let go only to force you down on the ground, but you didn't protest. You had lost all filters, all of your arrogance as you were faced with his cock prodding at the zipper of his jeans.
Looking up as you eagerly undid his belt, you were pleased to see him inhaling deeply, proudly as he looked down on you. You pulled the zipper down, and your breath hitched as his cock saluted. He wasn't wearing underwear.
His cock was thicker than you had imagined, girthier than what you had felt while fingering yourself that night which he had so mockingly reminded you of. Long with a slight curve and a purple mushroom head unscathed. A drop of pre-cum covered the slit and you imagined it was crying for you.
"You gonna put that bratty little mouth to good use or do I gotta do that for you, too?"
Instinctively you glared up at him, giving him a look but it was washed away a second later as he took charge.
Grabbing a fistful of your hair, Joel forced you onto his cock, not giving you a second to wet your lips or spit on it. Harshly pushing you down on his cock, you found that it wasn't needed, there was plenty of saliva in your mouth to lubricate him. A whimper left you when his head hit the back of your mouth, your throat automatically constricting at the sudden intrusion. You felt your cunt mimic the reaction and clenched around nothing.
Joel was heavy in your mouth, the thickness making you worry the back row of your teeth would scrape him. If they did he didn't care, for when you looked up at him through teary eyes he was unconcerned.
He forcefully prodded against your throat, slipping in just enough to push further and you gagged.
Joel inhaled sharply. "S'a tight little throat you got there. Guess you haven't been whoring around as much as I thought," he chuckled, holding your face pressed firmly against him, your nose nuzzled in the patch of curls.
He held you there for a couple of seconds, allowing your throat to get adjusted despite acting seemingly careless about how you felt. A moment later he pulled you off by your hair, and you gasped hoarsely, blinking up at him through the tears slowly blurring your vision.
Hovering over you, Joel cupped your cheeks and lifted you slightly, bending down as he did. For a second you thought he was going to kiss you, but his fingers dug into your face, forcing your mouth open for him and he spat on your tongue, an obscene look on his face.
"Eyes on the price, sweetheart," he chuckled and landed you back on your knees.
With his hand holding you tightly by a makeshift ponytail, Joel pushed his cock back into your mouth and without warning, set a brutal pace sure to give you a headache. As slick gathered between your legs, a migraine was the least of your worries. You snaked a hand between your legs to relieve the tingling strain.
The breaths you were granted came in between the thrusts and you squeezed your eyes shut, feeling dizzy, prompting him to yank at your hair.
"Look at me," he grunted coarsely, voice going straight to your sex and you ground down hard on your hand, gasping for air. Joel admired your puffy lips, smeared with saliva, strings of drool connecting your mouth to the tip of his cock. "You look like a fuckin' mess, sweetheart. This what you been thinkin' about, hm? Been thinking 'bout acting like a little slut f'me, huh?"
His degrading words fueled your fire, both making you want to bite back at him and make him come down your throat. Opting for the latter, you tried to take him back in your mouth, wanting to put your adjusted throat to good use, but he yanked you back. A whimper left your lips and he slapped your cheek, forcing you to look at him.
"F'you know what's good for you, you'll answer when I ask you a question."
Wet and needy, you didn't hesitate. "Yes! Yes, Joel," you cried, one hand on his hip for purchase, the other hid between your legs, fervently toying with your clit. "Wanted you to treat me like a whore! Wa—wanted you to fuck me stupid!"
That's when he noticed your hand between your legs, eagerly seeking out friction. His brows connected in a crease of anger, and he had you on your wobbly legs one moment and hurled you onto a dirty surface the next.
"The fuck you think you're doin', huh? Touching yourself without permission?" Joel growled and for the first time his disappointment got to you.
He held you by your throat and you could feel the calluses in his palm scrape your skin.
"M'sorry—couldn't help myself," you babbled feverishly as he shoved a hand down your undone pants, feeling just what you had been so disrespectful to touch.
A guttural moan escaped him and you could have died just then, knowing you did that to him.
"Christ, sweetheart. You got this wet from chokin' on my cock, huh?" he mused absent-minded and you couldn't decide which you liked more; Joel calling you "sweetheart" or— "such a fuckin' slut.”
You were startled but thankful when he pulled down your jeans in one swift movement, exposing you to the cold air in the warehouse.
He didn't give you a warning before he plunged two fingers into your cunt, curling them against the velvety roof of your wet cave. Clawing onto his shoulder with a gasp of surprise, you instinctively tried to lift yourself and relieve the overwhelmingly intense feeling.
"Where you goin', sweetheart? This not what you wanted?" You desperately wanted to slap the grin off of his face, but he had you completely wrapped around his finger. Literally and figuratively. "Didn't you wanna be used like a little slut, hm?"
"Please," you begged, drawing the word out with a rugged moan and clutching to his shoulders. "Ff—uck!"
He fingered you at an unforgiving pace, three fingers and his palm slapping against your cunt each time. The squelches from your pussy resonated off the bare walls and if you hadn't been so focused on the pain mixing with pleasure, you would have been ashamed Joel was the one making you this wet.
"Joel!" you cried, tugging at the front of his shirt. "Plea-please! Need your cock!"
He choked you with his unoccupied hand, forcing your face inches from his. "Quit whinin' or I'll leave you 'ere," he threatened.
You looked up at him through hooded eyes, unable to comprehend your increasing lust for him from being this close. Joel's breath was hot on your face, breathing his air, you became dizzy from a mix of him and your impending orgasm.
"That's right, sweetheart, cream all o'er my fingers," he beckoned, feeling your contracting walls squeeze his fingers. Your legs were trembling, wanton moans spilling from your lips as Joel pulled an orgasm from you.
You incoherently begged him to fill you up, wanting nothing more than to milk his thick cock, but when he caught sight of your pleading eyes, he applied pressure to your clit instead. It was sore from the heel of his palm having slapped it repeatedly and it made you unable to come down from your high properly.
Your legs spasmed as his torturous fingers brutally skirted across your bundle of nerves. Before you could process what happened, a gush of pleasure sprayed from you.
Your cheeks flushed pink, realizing Joel had just made you squirt. You had never done that before, and you looked at him with an expression of surprise mixed with confusion. He looked proud.
Joel groaned as he stroked his throbbed cock, smearing the precum over the head while his other hand pushed down hard on your belly, holding you just at the edge of the table.
Stammering his name, your attempt at any sort of coherent sentence was foiled as he slid his girthy cock into your cunt.
Your eyes fluttered shut, walls clenching around him. You had never felt so full. "Joel—" you shuddered, gripping his bicep for purchase.
A string of curses left his lips, a crease knitting his brows together in concentration. "Fuckin' hell, sweetheart, s'a tight lil' hole ya got 'ere."
Joel wanted to take a moment just then, revel in the sweet clench of your pussy, catch his breath but he knew you would notice. As much as he had a hidden desire to ruin every other man for you and have you tail him like a lost puppy, he refused to acknowledge how overdue this was.
He didn't give you another second to adjust before he rocked his hips back and slammed his cock back into you. If you thought his fingers hit a spot, his cock fucking destroyed that.
You couldn't even form moans properly as his hips rutted at a bruising pace, expertly molding your cunt to fit him. His face contorted and he grumbled something under his breath, but you didn't care to ponder what as he filled you up. You were still dazed from the previous orgasms and it was like he wouldn't allow you to come down. Your ragged breaths, his grunts, and the wanton sounds of skin slapping filled your head as you soared around on cloud nine.
A large hand snuck under your shirt, the calluses on his palm rough against your skin but you loved the feeling as he squeezed your breast, thumb and index pinching your nipple.
Your knuckles turned pale from clutching down hard on his shoulders, fingernails clawing indents at the exposed skin on his neck and collar.
You hoped the crescents would outlast this moment, that Joel would curse at the sight the next time he looked in a mirror. You hoped he wouldn't be able to get this moment out of his head then, not ever, thinking back to this moment whenever he would see the scars you left on him.
A hiss escaped you and tore the thought of making your mark out of your mind. His deft fingers were rubbing your sore clit once again.
There was determination on his face and animalistic hunger in his dark eyes—he looked as if there was no getting through to him, like he was stuck in a world of his own.
Whether he insisted on drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you for your pleasure or his ego, you did not know. Joel always had something to prove—to himself or the people around him, it was another thing about him you didn't know. In this moment, as he chased every high for you, you didn't care either.
You hated him for making you feel this good. Hated him for making you moan in pleasure, hated him for making your legs shake uncontrollably. You wanted to taunt him, crack a spiteful comment about his age or something, let him know he wasn't doing as well as he thought—but he was. You could lie, but your body would betray you.
There was no snide comment left in you as Joel's hips pistoned into yours. It felt too good. He felt too good.
"S'too much," you gasped and held onto his shoulder, not pushing him away but not pulling him any closer either. "I can't."
The pressure on your clit was too much. The frantic rubbing, the harsh pads of his fingers, mixing pleasure with pain in the most unforgiving way. It hurt too good to want to stop him, though.
Joel surprised you, pressing his forehead against yours. His eyes were heavy, and his jaw was slack, the blissful expression ruined by a smug chuckle.
"You can. C'mon, sweetheart, I believe in you," he tutted like one would to a child riding a bike for the first time.
It spurred something inside you, the degradation. Your hooded, watery eyes caught sight of his plump lip through the blur and without a second thought, you lunged forward and bit it, your teeth piercing the soft skin.
It was the closest thing you would get to feeling them, you knew it, and you weren't about to beg for a taste.
A slap landed on your cheek, sharp and stinging, but he kept his hand there on the side of your face, cupping it in an almost endearing way.
Joel hissed at the taste of blood—surprised but not disgusted. The hand cupping your face in the sweetest way turned to force your mouth open, and you grinned bitterly when he spat on your tongue, tasting his blood.
His thrusts became more frantic, the pad of his thumb sloppily skipping over your clit as he draws your pleasure out. Forcing you to look into his eyes while you come around his cock, Joel's too far gone watching you to notice the way his balls tightened.
"Fuck—"
Slick with your juices Joel slips out of your clenching pussy, jerking his cock a few pumps as he hisses, strings of milky sperm decorating your abdomen.
Your heavy breaths hang in the room like thick syrup, bodies sticky, tension at a maximum as the lust turns back to hatred.
Joel moves from you with a grunt, a sly smirk on his lip as he moves his gaze from the mess on your stomach to your eyes. He leaves you to clean yourself up and tucks his softening cock into his pants, the zipper resounding comically loud through the silence. It reminds you of a secret between children, zipping your lips close as a solemn pledge.
It was over and it would never be brought up again. As you did your best to clean up, get back into your clothes, and comb your fingers through your hair, your eyes were trained on Joel's back—if eyes could kill and all that.
At once, you were back to hating one another. You hoped your nails had dug deep enough into his shoulder, hard enough to leave scars.
976 notes · View notes
aethelwyneleigh27 · 6 months
Text
Little Ghost
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader Drabble
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Thanks so much to @puff0o0 for drawing this and feeding me more ideas for GirlDad!Simon "Ghost" Riley.
(I didn't give the baby a name, I would've opt for Charlotte but idk what y'all want to name your children)
ꕥ HOPE YOU ENJOY! ꕥ
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Your little toddler asking you, her momma for help. She had several drawings of her dad, you and her. She's been pointing non-stop while babbling at her drawing of her dad, with his mask on.
"Yeah love, that's dada.." You said to her with your head tilted, trying to understand what she was telling you. The little one whined in frustration, she wanted so bad to communicate what she wanted but she was only able to say a few words.
She had to demonstrate to you what she was referring to in the means of actions, she took her baby blanket on the couch and placed it over her head, somewhat resembling a mask.
You further encouraged her later on by giving her one of Simon's older masks and it seemed to have cheered her up, even though her head was too small for it and the mask's eye hole goes through her head perfectly like a shirt.
That's when you had the bright idea to surprise Simon, taking inspiration from the baby carrier you and your husband bought for your baby (he couldn't do anything but grumble about the fact that it was pink), you decided to make her a mask tailored to her.
It wasn't hard finding the materials, you already had a pink stretchy fabric from your old shirt and that plastic skull decoration you got from last Halloween. Oddly enough you got it because it was similar to Ghost's mask, it was time you repurposed it.
• ──── ✦ Time Skip ✦ ──── •
Ghost finally found himself home after being on a mission for almost two months, he opened the door, prying his keys off them and gently nudge it closed.
He looked around throwing his duffle bag on the ground near the shoe rack, he found himself smiling at the two pairs of shoes there. Yours and what he thought was the tiniest pink shoes, a space unoccupied at the right side to be completed by his pair of combat boots.
"Dada!"
Simon turned his head, looking further in towards your shared home to see his little girl stumbling towards him. Only to his amusement, she was wearing a pink version of his mask. Simon let out a chuckle, a proud boisterous one.
"Lovie, did you make that for her..?" Simon asked you after seeing you turn the corner to almost tackle him in a hug, the amusement in his voice still quite clear. You nodded your head before replying "Well I only helped, our mini Ghostie did most of the work". That earned you a forehead kiss from your husband.
He lifted your little one up after she looked at him and said "Up-py dada, uppies please", her tiny arms gripping his shirt while he carried her. The little mask reminded him of the time you surprised him with baby mittens with skeleton hands printed on it.
You kissed both their cheeks sending your little one into a fit of giggles while she tried to kiss her momma back. Simon just stared at the sight, feeling happier that he's home to his family.
Yeah he's definitely going to bring that pink mask along when he takes the little one to see the Taskforce again..
(The Taskforce interacting with little baby Ghost...)
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2K notes · View notes
narcissistshandler · 7 months
Note
giving miguel head while he explains complicated concepts of the multiverse. 😳 at first he chuckles when reader requests this, but he starts to struggle and lose track of what he was talking about. his voice becomes more desperate as he tries to explain all this stuff he knows to reader with his talons gripping at his love’s skull and his voice shaking and melting into pretty breathy moans until he can’t think of what he was talking about and instead fucks reader’s throat til he’s an overstimulated, sobbing mess
𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗖𝗛 𝗠𝗘
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✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 gn!reader x miguel o'hara
✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 blowjob (reader giving), deep throat, slight overstimulation at the end, reader has no gender or genitalia mentioned, a little of blood
✧ 𝖠/𝖭 This was in my drafts for two weeks and honestly I don't remember what/how I wrote half of it, but still, this request was delicious
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"—Are you listening to me?"
You blinked, seeming to come back to reality and looked into Miguel's judgmental brown eyes.
"I've been speaking Spanish for the last ten minutes," he continued before you had time to speak.
"I am," you insisted. Your first instinct was to lie. The truth was no, you weren't paying the slightest attention to any of all that complicated science and physics coming out of Miguel's mouth, even though from the beginning your focus hadn't left his lips framing every complex and long word, occasionally rising to appreciate that expression of concentration on his usually serious face that shouldn't be so erotic to anyone but you.
Miguel's eyes fell to your lap, as if he could see through the pillow you were holding, his brow immediately frowning in that way that indicated his bad mood.
"So what is the simple concept of what constitutes a Multiverse?" he questioned, sounding so much like a hot, strict teacher that you felt your sex throb in response, too distracted to even try to think of an answer. "What are the ways to overcome the barriers that separate our world from other universes?" Silence. "What happens when there is a divergence in events? Where does the variety of these universes originate?"
You knew the answer to some of these questions as someone who had heard more than enough about this subject: the multiverse was nothing more than the aggregate of parallel realities and bla bla bla. But that wasn't what Miguel wanted to hear, he wanted concise, long and scientifically coherent answers and that's why you preferred to keep your mouth shut.
"You weren't listening," he concluded with a sigh.
"Keep talking, I'll pay attention this time."
Miguel looked into your darkened eyes, noting the warm innuendo in your tone and then once again, his attention fell to the pillow that covered your lap. "You're excited," he observed, then continued seeming disgusted and irritated: "Why? Physics does that to you?"
“You do this to me,” you said. Miguel's expression seemed to become even darker. "You always seem so focused and intelligent while talking about these things I can't understand, it's sexy."
"You were the one who asked me to teach you, I didn't know this was a fantasy of yours," he pointed out.
"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you asked soflty as you got up from the sofa where you sat next to Miguel and fell to your knees in front of his feet, your hands running up his bare legs until they slid under the hem of his shorts. "Continue teaching me, please? I promise I'll pay attention this time."
Miguel half growled at you, not seeming too willing to indulge in your fantasies even as his legs opened in pure muscle memory to give you room to fit between them and desire flashed in his eyes.
"How are you supposed to pay attention to what I say with my penis in your mouth? That doesn't seem like a very concise teaching method." Even with you kneeling in front of him on the floor of the apartment's living room, Miguel seemed genuinely concerned about teaching you some real knowledge about multiverse.
You rubbed your hand against the bulge in his shorts to bring him to hardness, laughing a little at how genuine Miguel was sometimes.
"You talk, I listen, then you can test me to see if I really learned something or not."
Miguel opened his mouth, looking ready to retort with some argument, but your fingers fitting into the elastic waistband of his shorts was enough to make him swallow back his words. “Okay,” he agreed finally, lifting his hips off the couch to let you pull his shorts down his legs and discard them on the floor.
"Without underwear?" You inquired teasingly, your fingers closing around Miguel's thick cock that was slowly getting hard for you and pulling him into slow, steady thrusts.
Miguel sighed at the sudden touch, a light blush coloring his cheeks at the teasing.
"Back to the beginning," he started to say, ignoring your words. "When we talk about the Multiverse, this refers to a conception of multiple universes or parallel realities existing simultaneously. Together, these universes are presumed to comprise everything that exists: the entirety of space, time, matter, energy..."
Your tongue trailed in a wet line from the base to the head, interrupting Miguel's speech as he trailed off with a soft sigh.
That usual satisfaction made you smile between the licks you dragged along his length, feeling the pulsation of the bulging veins against your tongue, your fingers keeping his dick firm at the base. Your lips parted, gently sucking the side of the bulbous, red head where drops of precum were beginning to leak.
Miguel let out the most beautiful moan, one of his hands falling into your hair.
“Oh,” he sighed softly, voice already falling into that deep tone that always did things to you. You looked up at the same time you slid your tongue over the slit leaking from his cock; Miguel's eyes met yours, warm and shining. He took a deep breath and continued speaking: "In the concept of multiverse, a scheme is imagined in which... all universes aggregate each other across an infinite vastness..."
He looked so composed even with your mouth on his dick and you wanted to break that composure of his until it became nothing, until his mind stopped working and the only coherent thought he had left was fucking your throat.
Miguel doesn't stop talking when your fingers tighten around his length in a grip that borders on painful and your mouth opens so you can take his length. His cock filled your mouth, the warm, smooth skin sliding over your tongue and inward in a delicious, welcome weight that made your skin tingle. Almost instinctively, you searched for more, leaning forward and taking him deeper, your free hand feeling Miguel's thigh muscles tense under your touch.
Saliva pooled in your mouth and as soon as you pulled your head back, spit slid down his length to his heavy balls and a wet line ran down your chin, a mess you knew Miguel liked. As expected, his breathing stuttered and you saw him losing his train of thought at the sight of your saliva-glossy lips stretching around the thickness of his dick.
"...In addition to the state superpos- superposition property, there are many other phenomena that occur as quantum-scale systems, such as quantum tunneling, quantum e-entanglement..."
The firm fingers tangled in the strands of your hair suddenly became sharper, like thick needles scratching your scalp. The threat of the grab hung in the air, filling your stomach with a tense heat as you realized they were Miguel's deadly talons, which could penetrate through the fragility of your skin in seconds and even an accidental scratch could draw blood. This realization shook you to the core and a moan rose in your throat.
"... So you can connect gravity and the other three forces in an apparently firm way?" he panted, sweat glistening on his forehead. "Dios mío."
It took you a few seconds to understand the jumbled words that came out of his mouth, but when you did you knew that you had achieved your objective, as the argument didn't seem to fit into any part of the multiverse theory.
Tears blocked the corners of your vision, jaw opening wider to take Miguel's cock deeper, the tip slapping against your cheek and tongue before going deeper, and then more and more. The salty taste of precum, sweat, and something else you could only describe as Miguel's taste rising in the back of your throat, clouding all your senses and pushing away the urgency burning between your legs. All that mattered was Miguel.
At that moment, your entire world was just Miguel's body contracting on the couch under the heat of your mouth, the heavy leg he had thrown over your shoulder and his heel digging into your shoulder blade in an attempt to bring you impossibly closer. There was a distinct feeling of discomfort growing in your body, Miguel's grip was strong and painful, his rationality seemed to have dissolved under the pleasure.
"[n-name] [name] [name] [name], por favor." The beautiful moans of your name in his voice echoed through the room in repeated, stammered repetitions.
The gag reflex kicked in, the bulbous head of Miguel's cock pressing past the tightness of your throat. Your eyes closed in an attempt to fight the immediate instinct to choke and suffocate, the desire to give Miguel everything he wanted was stronger. You willingly obeyed the grip of the talons on your head keeping you still, your mouth falling open and easy for the deep thrusts.
Resisting him, the urgency with which his hips undulated, as if he needed the pleasure to breathe, felt equal to having at least one pulled muscle and a deep cut left behind.
Fortunately, fighting him was far from your intention.
You could feel as his dick twitched inside your mouth and the thick, salty liquid filled your throat, which rose and fell as you swallowed. Your eyes opened, tears running down your cheeks, you closed your lips around Miguel's pulsing length, sucking. Miguel's reaction was lascivious, his thrusts becoming erratic, whole body shaking violently, his talons sinking at least a few centimeters into your skin, until it breaks under the pressure.
Hot liquid ran down the back of your neck, the pain was a distant thing in your warm body, your fingers digging into the soft skin of Miguel's thighs as you pressed the nose against the curly hair of his groin. Miguel whimpered as his cock continued to spurt small jets deep down your throat, tears glistening in his eyes and fangs sinking into the lower lip.
You had lied again, you hadn't paid attention to anything he said, but it didn't matter since you doubted that Miguel remembered what even was a subatomic particle now.
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howlyourmelancholy · 7 months
Text
Talking Bodies
summary: in which there are four of you (+ toys)
warnings: poly!marauders, with remus taking charge. foursome. sex toys (bullet vibrator, mentions of nipple clamps). rough sex. anal sex. double penetration. pet names; (princess, sweet girl). brief hints of subspace.
words: 1k.
notes: sent a snapchat to my real life bestie for suggestions, she originally picked remus. a few more snaps and it spawned into the poly!marauders and their collective girlfriend. it's short and brief, so i might need to write something full length to give this trope some more love.
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It felt like the pleasure was literally about to kill you. The buzzing of the toy held firmly against your throbbing clit, coupled with the two cocks splitting you open and the third nudging the back of your throat, was going to kill you.
"You can give us another, can’t you, sweet girl?" Remus said, his voice a combination of utter tenderness and complete authority that made your eyes roll back into your skull. If he'd been able to see the expression of pleasure etched upon your facial features, he might have mocked you, cooing about how pretty you looked with tears and spit smeared on your face. He liked seeing you messy and cock-drunk.
As it was, James obscured his view. The dark-haired boy was standing on the bed at your side, his fingers threaded through your hair as you bobbed on his cock, your lips stretched prettily around his girth, spit dripping from the corners of your mouth and down your chin. As you swallowed more of him, his cock nudged the back of your throat, and he exhaled a huff of pleasure.
You moaned around him. The salty taste of his pre-cum was like heaven in your mouth. You ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft, tracing the prominent vein with the tip, making his hips stutter. You could tell that he was close and wanted to taste more. "Shitshitshit," he growled beneath his breath, his fingers tugging hard on your hair to pull you off before he could cum.
A harsh slap on your inner thigh brought you back to reality, reminding you that there was more than James here. Sirius' calloused fingers rubbed your skin to soothe the sting of his slap. Sirius had always been fond of anal and had relished the training of your tight hole. The process had taken a considerable amount of time and lube, but you managed to fit all of him, feeling like his cock was stuck in the back of your throat.
He thrust roughly into you, making you moan loudly. The pleasure made you clench, which in turn had Sirius hissing in your ear as your tight hole got tighter still. “He asked you a question. You gonna cum for us?”
It was almost as though the three of them were intent on killing you. They'd already pulled four orgasms from you, leaving your bones turned completely to jelly and your mind wandering out of your body. You were so high in the clouds that you didn't think you'd ever come down, but another wave of heat was starting to simmer in your abdomen.
Sirius slapped your thigh again, making you squeal and buck. It was at that moment that Remus brought your attention back to him by pressing the buzzing toy more firmly against your throbbing clit. Warm honey seemed to snake through your veins, causing your muscles to twitch, a tell-tale sign of the orgasm about to rip through you.
Remus had his cock buried deep in your cunt, enjoying the feeling of Sirius moving so roughly through your walls. Your legs were wound loosely around his waist, your feet dangling limply in the air as the three of them used you. When you found Remus' eyes, they were blown wide; there was something feral in them that made you clench somehow even tighter. He had asked a question but was demanding an answer, and the correct answer was that you came again right now.
As though sensing how close you were, he began to move. Remus pulled back in time with Sirius, leaving you feeling empty and squirming between them. And then the two of them slammed forward, both of them hitting that sweet spot inside you but from different angles. You keened loudly, head thrown back, and James took the opportunity to shove his cock back into your mouth.
His hand tightened around your hair and held you, your nose pressed into the wiry curls at the base of his shaft. You gagged violently around him until he finally let you up for a much-needed breath. It lasted only a moment before he thrust back into your mouth, setting a gruelling pace that had your jaw aching. “Fuck, her mouth s’too good. Got me so close, sweet girl.”
Sirius dug the fingers of one hand into the doughy flesh of your inner thigh, leaving bruises of his fingerprints behind while the other rose to palm roughly at your tit. Your nipples were hardened peaks that crowned the tops of your tits, still throbbing and aching from the earlier pinch of the clamps Remus had made you wear during your first four orgasms. Sirius pinched one of them while James rolled the other one between his thumb and forefinger, but it was Remus and that wicked vibrator that finally did you in.
The knot in your stomach unravelled quickly and suddenly, coming undone all at once. The vibrations of the toy could be felt through your gummy walls, which twitched and spasamed around the boys, sending them both over the edge with you. You tasted James' cum first, the tang of it hardly penetrating through your senses; you felt Sirius and Remus fill you with their thick cum, but you were gone.
Completely and utterly gone.
“That’s it,” Remus growled through is teeth. “Told you you could give us another. Such a good girl for us.”
Your body was a slave to the pleasure; it ripped through you, making your muscles twitch and spasm. The vibrations of that toy against your clit were merciless and unrelenting, sending you sky-rocketing as you struggled to swallow around James' cock.
You must have blacked out; in fact, you are sure you did. When your eyes next opened, you found yourself lying on the bed, your head resting in James' lap, his fingers carding through your hair. Remus was rubbing a warm palm up and down your spine; your skin was sweat-slicked and burning. Sirius had a warm cloth in his hand, using it to clean between your thighs, earning a whine from you and a relentless wriggle of your hips as he moved over your sore clit.
Remus leant down to press a kiss against your temple as your eyes closed again. “Did so good tonight, princess.” His voice was sweet like honey, dripping over your sensitive skin in a way that was sure to lull you to sleep. You hummed softly as you felt the bed dip, shift and bounce as somehow the three of them settled in around you.
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deakyjoe · 28 days
Text
I Got Chills, They’re Multiplying
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Pairing: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader (fem, she/her)
Category: sick fic, fluff
Summary: Despite being stubbornly independent, Bob won’t let you push him away in your time of need.
Warnings: sickness, sexual references and innuendos, implication of Bob having a “lieutenant” kink, just fluff mostly, reader is used to pushing people away, they’re like hella in love but won’t say it
Word count: 2.4k
A/N: Wrote this exhausted because I haven’t been able to sleep these past few days due to being sick. Enjoy!
Consider buying me a coffee :)
You stared at the last text message Bob had sent you.
Okay, get well soon!
It was unclear whether the constant pounding in your head was what was making you feel sick or if it was how quickly the text conversation had ended with your boyfriend. Well, kind-of boyfriend. You'd been on a lot of dates over the last few months but hadn't actually made it official yet.
It's not like you expected anything from him, you were used to men being pretty dismissive, and his message was actually very friendly, especially with the exclamation point at the end, but you couldn't help but feel a pang of something at him just ending the conversation like that.
To be fair to him, you had told him that you were fine, just had a cold or a minor case of the flu. It was a little worse than that but you weren't used to telling people your problems, used to keeping them bottled up inside. So you guess you couldn't really blame him for taking your word for granted and assuming that, as you'd said, you were fine. And maybe he was busy.
You sighed and tossed your phone aside, burying your face in one of the many blankets you'd dragged to your couch in an attempt to feel slightly warmer. You were being ridiculous, this is exactly what you wanted. And what you expected. At least you had peace and quiet for the day whilst you recovered.
Drifting off into a dreamless sleep came naturally with the state your body was in and you were thankful for it, hoping that the headache that had been plaguing you since you first woke up that morning would be gone by the time you woke up again.
It wasn't.
In fact, it only got worse when the rhythmic throbbing in your skull matched the timing of the person knocking on your front door. You groaned quietly to yourself and dragged yourself up off the couch, wrapping a blanket tight around your shoulders and padding to the door with only one sock on. You figured the other one must have fallen off during your nap.
You didn't even bother looking through the peephole to see who was bothering you, hoping to just snap at them to go away once you'd managed to unlock the door.
That plan was foiled when you were greeted by your favourite pair of baby blue eyes behind wire framed glasses. You immediately softened at the sight of your kind-of boyfriend.
"Oh, hi." You croaked, immediately feeling sheepish that you were about to shout at him without even thinking about the consequences.
Bob frowned at you, giving you a quick once over. "You're sick."
"Yes, I told you that." You chuckled, coughing into your elbow as soon as the words had left your mouth.
"Sicker than you let on." He clarified.
You shrugged, not knowing what to say. He was right. But that's just who you were. Keep everything to yourself, was your motto.
So you just asked him a question instead. "Why are you here? I said I was fine."
Bob smiled at that. "I think your exact words were 'yeah, I'm good' which I knew was a lie."
"Oh." That surprised you.
He went further. "You only say you're good when something's wrong."
God, were you that easy to read?
"So, I thought I'd come check on you." He stiffened suddenly. "I hope that's okay."
You didn't think it possible but somehow you softened more under his worried gaze. "Yes, that's very okay. Do you want to come in?"
You opened the door wider for him, stepping aside and grinning when he hurried in and kicked off his shoes. It was then that you noticed what he was wearing. Blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt. He looked good. Very good. If you didn't feel like you were dying then you'd definitely be jumping his bones right about now. You still kind of wanted to. You pushed the thought aside.
"Didn't realise how hot it is outside. I'm freezing." You mumbled, shuffling back towards your couch. "Do you want a drink?"
"No, thanks. But if I did then I'd make it myself. I'm here to look after you." He placed a hand on the small of your back to guide you in the direction of the blanket pile you'd previously made, smirking at the sight of it.
You shifted away from him. "You don't have to touch me. I'm sick and disgusting right now."
He huffed. "You're beautiful and lovely like always."
"Liar." You grumbled, pushing back into his hand nevertheless.
"No, just smitten and honest." He confessed, sitting you down on the couch and wrapping you in the millions of blankets. "Have you eaten today?"
You shook your head no. You didn't feel up to cooking.
"Want me to make you something?" He stood in front of you with his hands on his hips.
"No." You sighed. "It's okay."
"Yeah, I'm making you something."
You huffed. "You really don't have to-"
"I want to." He cut you off. “I don’t want you to think you can’t ask me for things. You know I care about you, right?”
You nodded slowly. “I know, I’m just used to doing stuff for myself.”
Bob smiled gently. “I know that. But now you don’t have to. I’m here for you. To help. Or whatever you need.”
You were about to respond with a fond thank you when you were interrupted by his cellphone chiming in his pocket.
“Sorry.” He grunted, pulling the device from the front of his jeans.
“It’s okay.” You coughed, curious as to why he was suddenly frowning. “Who is it?”
"Had plans with the team tonight. Was supposed to meet them for drinks." He mumbled, typing away on his phone.
"Oh, god." You rubbed your hand across your face. "Please go. You don't have to stay here. Don't let them down."
Bob suddenly looked up from his screen and gave you an amused smile. "I'm sure they'll understand that I'm looking after my sick girlfriend."
He said it so casually, as if he’d been doing it regularly. Your heart rate picked up at that. Girlfriend. His girlfriend. Bob Floyd's girlfriend. You could've squealed with glee. You stayed silent and settled for a pleased grin.
He sighed to himself once he’d replied to his team and placed his cell down on your coffee table. “Where were we? Oh! Right. Me cooking for you.”
“Like I said, you don’t need to do that.” You pulled your feet up onto the couch after a particularly violent shiver ran through you. “I’m perfectly fine.”
Bob reached out and pressed the back of his hand onto your forehead. “You have a fever. And you’re still shaking like we’re in Antarctica.”
“It’s just my immune system fighting back.” You hummed, leaning into his touch as he moved his hand down to cup your cheek.
“Exactly. And I’m sure some warm soup will just help your immune system out.” He crouched down in front of you, taking the other side of your face in his other hand. “Please let me take care of you.”
The words were so softly spoken, so tender, that you almost started crying. No one had ever sounded so sincere before, especially when it came to your well-being. If you weren’t so scared of infecting him, you would’ve leaned forward to kiss him.
So you could only reply quietly, with the smallest of nods. “Okay.”
His face burst into a dazzling smile, the kind that made you never want to stop looking at him. “Okay. You rest some more and I’ll go make that for you.”
You smiled weakly back at him, suddenly remembering something. “I don’t think I have any soup.”
Bob didn’t falter. “That’s alright. I’ll figure something out.”
You thought that maybe you were a little bit in love with him.
“Help yourself to anything.” It didn’t need to be said, he knew your kitchen pretty well at this point and you always made it clear that he was free to eat or use anything in it when he was over at your place.
He nodded, pressed a kiss to your forehead and stood up. “Try to sleep a little. This might take a while.”
You snorted, regretting it immediately as it made your throat feel all scratchy. “Yes, Lieutenant.”
Bob paused for a second, halfway to taking a step towards the kitchen, and looked back at you. “Lieutenant?”
You nodded, mouth twitching at the corners.
He seemed to think on it for a second. “Hm, we’ll come back to that.”
You giggled quietly into your blanket and settled back onto the couch, closing your eyes and thinking of Bob Floyd. Your boyfriend. Your extremely caring boyfriend. Who was in your kitchen making you soup! When did you suddenly get so lucky? The musings drifted away with you as you slipped into unconsciousness.
Some time passed before you were awoken again by Bob stroking the side of your face and softly uttering your name.
You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, slightly confused as your head cleared. “What’s going on?”
“Soup.” He replied simply, picking up your legs and sitting down before placing them across his lap. He leaned forward to grab the bowl and spoon on your coffee table and then turned to face you.
“You gonna feed me?” You teased.
Bob smiled. “I would if you wanted me to but I’m sure you’d rather I throw this soup in your face than do that.”
He was right.
“Hm, when did you get to know me so well?” You asked, half joking as you took the bowl and spoon from him. The soup was a rich green colour. What he’d found to put in it, you had no idea. “Always thought I was closed off.”
“You are.” He shrugged. “But I pay attention.”
Your eyes shot up to meet his again. He was just looking at you with a slight smile, hands smoothing up and down the lengths of your clothed legs.
You were definitely a little bit in love with him.
You defaulted to a joke. "Remind me when I'm feeling better that you're gonna get it sooo good."
Bob snorted. "I think the fever is making you delirious."
"I'm just frustrated because you, somehow, look hotter than usual and I'm too sick to do anything about it." You gestured vaguely to his outfit, using the spoon to point.
“I’m wearing jeans and a t-shirt.”
“Hot.” You insisted.
"Okay, I'll remind you." He rolled his eyes. “Now eat your soup.”
“Yes, Lieutenant.” You mumbled, dipping the spoon into the thick liquid.
He huffed out a laugh.
You weren’t surprised in the least that the soup was delicious. You were starting to believe that Bob might actually be the perfect man, some sort of miracle sent to Earth to apologise for all the wrongdoing in the world. How he’d managed to concoct a good soup out of the limited ingredients in your kitchen was beyond you. And yet, he’d done it.
“What the hell did you put in this?” You asked, frowning at him mock suspiciously. If you didn’t know him better you’d think he’d ordered it to your place while you were asleep. But Bob Floyd wasn’t that kind of guy.
“Some stuff I found laying around.” He shrugged modestly. “Didn’t follow a recipe or anything.”
You scoffed. “You’re something else.”
He just shrugged again, a pleased smile playing on the corners of his lips, and watched you practically inhale the rest of the dish. He was very glad you’d eaten it.
“How you feeling now?”
“Better.” You admitted. “But I don’t know if it’s because of the soup or because you’re here.”
Bob’s heart thudded against his rib cage at that confession. “Just happy to help.”
You hummed and stared at him fondly.
He had trouble getting his next question out, distracted by the way you were looking at him. “Do- do you- do you want to go back to sleep?”
You hesitated before answering him, mulling an idea over in your mind. “There is something I want.”
“Oh, yeah? What is it?” He was willing to do anything for you.
“Don’t want you to get sick.” You sighed.
He smiled. “I think we left that concern behind when I first got here.”
Your eyes widened. “No! Don’t make me feel guilty.”
“I’m not trying to.” Bob assured you. “But I doubt whatever you want is going to have a higher risk of getting me sick than me just sitting here next to you.”
You grumbled something underneath your breath to yourself.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind getting sick off of you.”
Maybe you were a lot in love with him.
So you let it burst out of you. “Wanna cuddle.”
Bob didn’t even respond to you, just scooped you up into his arms and maneuvered the two of you into the position he knew you liked - him on his back with you half on top of him and half next to him, one leg and one arm slung around him, your face buried his chest and head tucked under his chin, one of his hands moving to stroke up and down your arm, trace patterns across your back and comb through your hair.
He knew you so well.
You nuzzled your face against his t-shirt. “Thank you.”
He inhaled deeply. “You don’t need to thank me.”
“I want to. You didn’t have to do all of this.”
“Making you soup is nothing. It’s not like I’m giving you a kidney.” He paused. “Although I’d probably do that too.”
You chuckled against his chest. “What I mean is, most guys would’ve accepted my ‘I’m good’ text and carried on with their day. You didn’t.”
“Because I knew you were lying.” He reminded you.
“That’s my point. No one has ever known I was lying before.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “I’m glad you knew.”
“Me too.”
Bob wanted to kiss you but knew you’d kill him if he tried. So he settled for the smile he gave you that always made you look away nervously. Which you did, as predicted, and then swiftly fell asleep against him. He wondered how’d he’d gotten so lucky. Sure, he was caring for a sick person but it was the happiest he’d been in a long time. Which should sound ridiculous but to him it made more sense than anything.
He was knocked out of his thoughts when you whined lowly in your sleep and held onto him tighter. He smiled down at you and held you closer to his chest.
Bob knew then that he was a lot in love with you.
A/N: And we’re back!
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ggwendolyn · 4 months
Text
kinkmas 2023
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DEC. 17th: Face sitting, Choso Kamo
Pairing: Choso Kamo x FEM!reader
Warnings: Face sitting/face riding kink, praising, hair pulling, cum eating, reader is insecure about her weight, overstimulation, slight mommy kink (Choso calls reader mama and ma a couple times), no uses of y/n.
“C'mon mama. Please.” He insisted. He was so damn insisting, whiny, he wouldn't stop until he got what he wanted. “I need to taste you, need you to ride my face.”
“No, Cho. I said no.” You mumbled between kisses, gasping when his teeth grazed your bottom lip. “I could hurt you.”
“But you won't, love. Come on, pleaseee!” He begged, wrapping his strong arms around your waist to pull you further into the bed. He sucked the spot below your throat, licking and kissing all over your neck, trying to make you comply to his demands.
“I don't know, hun, it's just-” You paused, your hand reaching to tug at his hair once he kissed the sensitive spot under your ear. “Ah, shit- Choso...”
“Please, ma, I'll tell you if I want to pull away but please I fucking need it!” He whined, hands roaming from your lower to your upper back to unclasp the black, laced bra he had bought for you recently. “Just try it. I swear it'll be good.”
You doubted, really, really doubted about it. You didn't want to break his lovely face, like, why would he even want all your weight on his beautiful, handsome features?! You didn't understood, but Choso did.
“M'kay... But please tell me if you're uncomfortable I don't want you to-”
He interrupted your speech with a sweet, longing kiss. But it wasn't enough for you to feel ready though, it wasn't as long as you wanted to be. But there was no going back, you already said yes, and Choso wouldn't take any other opinion.
He laid down on your shared bed, shifting his hips slightly before you crawled towards him. His strong hands grabbed at the back of your thighs, making you gasp and squeal before he made you straddle his head. He lowered your sweet, wet cunt down onto his mouth, and he hummed at the taste of your juices.
“Ah- Shit, Cho-” You mumbled, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as he lapped at your pussy, tongue moving back and forth from your hole to your clit which he started to suck into his mouth and roll between his teeth.
Nasty, squelching noises filled the room along with your unholy moans. Choso couldn't help but eat you out like a man starved.
“Nngh... So beautiful.” He mumbled with his mouth full of you. You couldn't help but moan and grind your hips into his face, clit pressing against the tip of his nose just fine.
He savored your juices with admiration, love even. He loved you. All of you, everything you had to offer to him.
“Choso!” You breathed out, grabbing fistfuls of his black hair and arching your back. His arms wrapped around your thighs, caging you there. “Fuck- Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-” You could feel your orgasm crashing through your body and onto his awaiting mouth.
You sighed heavily, the tight grip on his hair loosening slightly, but your fists tensed up again once his tongue started to thrust into your wet, sensitive hole once again.
“Cho! Stop!” You whimpered, whole body squirming as he started pistoning his tongue quickly.
He didn't listen though. Mumbling ‘'m sorry'’ repeatedly as he buried his face into your cunt, shaking his head and inhaling a long breath to take in the scent of your exquisite and divine intimacy.
You didn't realized when your second release crushed through you, and your boyfriend slurped it gratefully. The firm lock he had around your legs loosened, letting you go as you collapsed next to him in bed.
You exhaled sharply, eyes closing with tiredness as Choso hummed in disgust as he saw the wet patch on his pants. He had came by having you to sit on his face.
“Damn...” He murmured, nibbling on his thumb before thing off his pants and underwear, tossing it aside before turning to look at you.
Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tightly as he rested his face on your stomach. His thumb traced soothing circles on your hips as he kissed your bellybutton.
“Thank you, ma. I love you.” He whispered into your soft skin, rubbing his face against your silky flesh before he covered both of your bodies lazily with the messy blanket next to you.
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© ggwendolyn 2023
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heartlyrins · 13 days
Note
Hi! I wanted to ask if you could make a jjk fic with yandere Gojo x lil sister(not by much) reader? If not it's perfectly fine too!<33
DECEPTION
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˚₊‧desc— Gojo Satoru hates his naive little sister so much that he wanted her so much as well.
˚₊‧TW— incest, noncon to dubcon, naive!reader, squirting, tummy bulge, teasing, a hint of degradation, implied somnophilia, yandere!Gojo, possessive!Gojo
˚₊‧A/N— i loveee 'toru-nii so ofc I will Anon <33, short fic again because I'm so tired this week, sorry cuties!!
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It's not that Satoru hates his little sister—but it's the fact that you're so innocent it makes him get on his nerves.
He hates the way you innocently calls him 'Toru-nii, it makes him so hard that he wanted to palm himself on the spot when you say it.
And he especially hates when you get near to other guys, not knowing better for yourself. He just knows that everyone is just wanting to get a taste on your cunt—and as a good big brother, he does too.
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He gives you a light tap on the cheek as you wake up with droopy eyes, why was he on top of you?
You yawn and blink twice, thrice and attempt to rise up the bed before you actually realise that your blouse was taken off.
"Toru-nii.. mm, why are you here? Why am I naked?" you rub your eyes and tries to pry him off you.
His hand flies to your wrist and holds both of them up your head, he couldn't even feel your weak punches honestly.
His other hand moves downward to your still clothed pussy and rubs your clit through it.
"Feels good, baby? I bet that slutty cunt would want anyone." he can't help but degrade you, seeing the expression that paints your face just makes him harder.
Fishing out his cock from his pants, he compares it to your tummy, measuring that if he can fit his cock all the way to your womb.
"See that? That's how long my cock is gonna rsach in your tight cunny." his smirk is evident on his face and it seems to be never-ending even as he is pushing your panties to the side.
The fact that his beautiful blue eyes staring at you seems to creep you out.. It makes you understand that he's Gojo Satoru, the strongest, and he's your beloved big brother.
And his big, lithe fingers are inside you right now, searching for your g-spot. As soon as he found it, he continues to abuse that spot multiple times making you squirm around with your wrists being held together.
"Toru-nii.. Toru-nii..! It feels weeeird—!" you squeal as your hips raises on their own and squirts clear fluids right on his clothes.
He can tell you wanted to apologize to him, but he only shushes you by giving you kisses softly on your tits before putting the tip of his cock on your folds.
You couldn't even scream because he has his palm over your mouth, he didn't want you to wake up your parents.
The only thing you could do was roll your eyes to tte back of your skull which was even voluntarily since your eyes automatically did that from too much pleasure.
You could feel the tip of his cock reach into your womb each time he thrusts and making a 'plap, plap, plap' sound each time he drives his hips into yours.
He presses on the tummy bulge that his cock is making, making you moan even more and his cock twitches inside.
"Gonna cum inside my lil sis.. Give you my babies, yeah?" he rasps and grins with a drunk look on his face.
"Cum with me—fuck-fuck-fuck!" he groans when you squeeze him tightly when you cum along with him, his palm wasn't over your mouth anymore as he was too focused on silencing his own moans.
He heaves on the bed as he pulls out of you, he looks down at his cum dripping down the bedsheets with a smile before falling beside you, intending to go for another round before he hears footsteps coming upstairs.
The door opens slowly, the light from the hallway peeking into the dark room as your parents enters slowly.
"See, I told you there weren't any weird sounds. They're just sleeping, leave them alone. I'm sure Satoru's tired since this is the first time he got the week off." your mom babbles before closing the door to your room once again.
"Round two?" a voice from behind snaps you out of your trance when your big brother's hands starts to palm your ass once again and taking your panties off completely.
You can't help but obey your Toru-nii.
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risuola · 8 months
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HEADACHE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori
Your head has been killing you all day but you tried to play it off as nothing to not worry your boyfriend, but he noticed and didwhat he could to ease your suffering.
cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna, reader is in pain (duh), things like SA and su1cide are mentioned (nothing discriptive though), there is like, one slightly suggestive joke I guess? it's fluff, let me remind you! — 1,7k words
a/n: yet another fluffed out piece of writing for the king, because I love him struggling to keep his authority, alright? there are also so many fics where Sukuna is just purely violent that I feel like him being everything but violent is very much in demand and I love him more gentle 🖤 i also often get headaches like the one described so it was my inspo, kinda.
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It hurt. Your head had been killing you since this morning and slowly it was getting to the point where you couldn't even move. It felt like a storm had been raging inside your skull for hours, you couldn't think, couldn't eat, couldn't concentrate on anything all day, and three painkillers didn't help at all. Your vision was blurry, your balance was off, everything seemed too loud, too close, too bright, too intense. You wanted to scream, you cried, and even begged whatever there is in the universe to just take this pain away.
"I can't," you whispered, crying quietly into your pillow as night fell. "I can't, I can't..." You tried not to wake Yuji, you even acted like it hurt less than it really did, just so he wouldn't worry, but now you couldn't hold it anymore. Your hands were shaking, your vision went black, and you wanted to die.
You got up, quietly and carefully, and slowly padded to the bathroom, feeling your way through the walls because your vision wasn't reliable anymore, and you put your head under the ice-cold water. Unpleasant shivers ran down your spine, your breath came short, but you stayed there, begging the university to ease the agony. And it did, for a moment. It all came back when you threw a towel over your head, unable to withstand the cold anymore. There was no point, you were dying, there was no other way.
Defeated, you dried your hair as best you could and went back to bed, where the moment you laid down, Yuji's arm found its place over your middle. He was still asleep, thankfully, and you pushed a pillow over your face and dived into the darkness.
"Is this suicide?", a voice that you only hoped was the creation of your mind reached your ears and you ignored it for the time being. Yuji was sleeping, he didn't move his hand from over your belly, he couldn't... "It's unwise to ignore me."
"Please, I can't do this now..." you whispered and took the pillows away. It was wet with tears, and so was your face when you looked at him. It was Sukuna, but it seemed like he had very little control over Itadori's body. Or maybe he intentionally kept you close to him so that you would die of a heart attack, but the sudden rush of blood that made your heart pump much faster than usual only made you feel worse.
"You can't do what?"
"Why are you here?" you asked, wiping your face.
"I love watching people suffer, and you seem to be just the kind of show I'd enjoy."
"Of course you do..."
"What is the source of your pain?"
"My head hurts. So fucking bad."
"Poor little human," he chuckled, lifting his head and resting it on his hand for a better view. In any other situation you would have pushed him away, tried to distance yourself, but now you had no power to fight back, so you stayed where you were, in the emotionless embrace of a curse that lives inside your boyfriend.
"If you stepped out to enjoy my pain, please go fuck yourself. Not the best timing, curse."
"How rude," he chuckled, "as if you were in a position to speak to me like that. I can slice you to ribbons before that brat even thinks of taking control back. Oh, imagine how devastated he would be to wake up to the bloody mess of his little girlfriend."
"Oh, sure. How creative, threatening me with death, very original. Perhaps you should surprise me and use your little hocus pocus to ease the pain I feel instead of scaring me."
"You want me, the King of Curses, to heal a human?"
"Kindness would be a good look on you."
"Oh, you're so desperate," he laughed and you covered your eyes with your forearm, already tired of his shit. The silence hurt you, not to mention his amused tone.
"Get lost, Sukuna," you muttered. "If you're not going to help, then stay quiet."
"And who are you to order me around?" his long fingers clawed at your chin, forcing your head in his direction, and you lowered your arm to look at him. Red eyes almost glowed in the darkness of the night, but he looked calm. "Hmm? Little human, have you forgotten where your place is?"
"I know where my place is, but you're in my bed now, so the only rules that apply here are mine."
"What a mouth," he chuckled again. "I can make this headache worse, you know."
"By annoying me to death? You're doing great at that."
It really wasn't wise to push Sukuna's buttons like that, your luck was definitely going to run out sooner or later, and even if you thought you wanted to die because of the headache, that wasn't really what you wished for.
"Sukuna, please, don't be a dick, help a human out."
"Oh, but watching you in pain is so much more entertaining."
"Have you ever tried to be nice, or is the concept foreign?"
"Being nice doesn't hold any power."
"Oh, but it does. When people truly respect you, not because they're scared, that's a different kind of power. And you like power, right?"
"I'm the strongest, I don't care what maggots think of me as long as they kneel in fear."
"If those people are maggots, doesn't that make you like a maggot king or something?"
"Oh, you're pushing your luck."
"Sure, whatever," you smack his hand away from your face and put the pillow back over it. If he's not going to be helpful, what was the point of paying attention to him? Just because he wants it doesn't mean he has to get it.
"And now you plan to ignore me?"
With no answer, you just pressed the plush item harder to your face, hoping that the pressure would soothe you even a little, but no luck.
Sukuna achieved his goal of making your heart beat even faster when he suddenly climbed on top of you, pinning you under his body and throwing the pillow away. Both of your hands he pressed to the bed with only one of his own, and you looked at him with a combination of surprise, confusion, and a glimmer of fear. This was not an ideal situation in any universe.
"What now?"
"Oh, don't be so scared, you wanted me to help you, right?"
"I fail to notice where the helping part is..."
"You humans fail to notice a lot of things."
Ryomen continued to touch you, but his touch felt anything but intimate. It burned, it felt targeted when his palm brushed against your knees or your inner thigh. Wherever he pressed, you felt some pain.
"What on earth are you doin-"
"I advise you to shut up before I change my mind."
And so you did, still unsure of what was happening. Why was this man touching your skin when you could have sworn, he wasn't interested in any kind of human physical touch. He was toying with you, enjoying the way your heart was racing in your chest, how you struggled to free your hands from his relentless grasp, and how you tried so hard to stay calm when he knew your mind was racing 180 miles per hour and off the cliff.
"Such a simple human," he mocked, his fingers brushing way too close to your underwear to go unnoticed, and your hips bucked up to create just a little more distance. This had to be another kind of torture and he was having fun making you so pliable. His eyes never left your face and you struggled to maintain eye contact. "What if I opened a mouth on the palm of my hand right now?" he teased, and you didn't get the subtext at first, but once you did, the vision struck you in a way it shouldn't have.
"Christ, you're more perverted than I suspected a curse would be," you muttered, turning your head to the side, creating an opening for him to kiss the tear off your cheek.
"You don't know much about curses, sweetheart," he laughed directly into your ear, brushing it with his lips as he moved his hand higher, sliding it under your blouse to your hip. "There are some mindless curses out there that only focus on sexually abusing their victims." This wasn't happening, this couldn't be happening. But his tone didn’t change, he was amused more than anything. "But I'm not a simple, horny curse, don't be so afraid. I'm the king."
"For a king, you do kinda often need to remind people about it..." you muttered, breathing in and out, focusing on this simple thing to avoid turning into a mess.
"Remember my advice?"
"Yup."
You closed your mouth and a wave of pulsating pain washed over your whole body again, radiating from your head as if a bomb had just exploded here. You closed your eyes tightly, tears once again threatening to flow from under your squeezed eyelashes. It hurt so much that you couldn't think straight, everything was blurry and you had trouble even recognizing the man above you. You wanted to pull your hands out of his hold, to put them on your temples, to do anything to ease the throbbing ache, but he wouldn't let you.
His hand pressed against your forehead. A moment later, the grip on your wrists loosened and the man rolled off you, taking a place beside you and pulling you into his chest. When you opened your eyes, no sign of black marks met your sight.
"Did he help you?" Yuji asked, his voice soft and cooing, but with worry clearly intertwined with his words. "Does it still hurt?"
"Huh?"
"Your head, does it hurt?"
"No... You asked him for it?"
"Yeah... I noticed you were in pain today, but you tried to play it off as nothing. And you didn't sleep and cried and I saw how many pills you took and still hurt," he spoke so softly, kissing your head tenderly and caressing your back with care and affection. "I'm sorry, I guess he had to scare you a little because, you know... ego."
"Thank you, baby," you pressed your lips to his chest, nuzzling into him even more.
"Oh, don't be, you know I'd do anything for you."
Next day you noticed that every bruise you had on your body wasn’t there anymore. Every hurt you earned through your every day clumsiness and trainings disappeared.
So that’s why Sukuna was touching you.
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lysil7777 · 4 months
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Yan! Dom! Fem! Reader x Sub! Boy
"P-please just.. just leave me alone!" James whimpered, tears welling up in his brown eyes, cheeks and ears flushing
"Aww what's wrong Jamie? Are you gonna cry? Did I hurt your feelings? Do you need your Mommy? You lean in to bite his ear and then whisper "I could be your mommy~"
Jamie hated himself for being unable to stop the moan that came out when you nipped at his ear and hated himself even more for letting you bully and harass him everyday.
When Jamie started college he swore things would be different from high school, he'd be more social, more motivated, and less shy. But 3 months later and the only person he talked to on a daily basis was you.
The first time you two met was in class, he'd braved up the courage to ask you for a pencil, he didn't really need one but he was trying to get out of his comfort zone.
You obliged but only after teasing him a bit asking what he'd give you in return, he got all embarrassed not knowing how to properly return your banter, and offered to pay you which you found very amusing. After a few more interactions you started to grow very fond of the nerd who sat behind you in Calc and before you knew it he was always on your mind.
The way he'd get embarrassed and look away from you when he didn't know what to say, the nervous habits he had when he was out by himself, how kind he was without anyone noticing, he was your adorable little specimen, for you only. And of course the best part was how naughty he could be, oh he was so innocent at the same time tho. You'd lost count of the number of times you'd watched him through his window, jerking it to soft domme porn, pet play, degradation, and dumbification, he was a pervy little nerd but the shame he felt afterward made you want to climb through his window and show him how much more depraved you were.
"What are you talking about y/n, I'm older than you that doesn't even make sense" he rambled looking anywhere but your eyes that were boring into his skull. God why did you have to be so close, why did you have to smell so good and be so pretty and-
His thoughts were cut off when you grabbed his chin and made him look at you directly
"I just think you're the kind of guy who needs direction, someone to help make those difficult decisions a sweet pet like you can't really decide for themselves, and why should you, that pretty little head of yours shouldn't have to worry about a single thing" you cooed squishing his cheeks together and making his lips push out
"I'm eighteen y/n, I can make my own decisions" Jamie argued or tried to through squished lips
At 5'3" you stood an entire nine inches under Jamie, but that didn't make him feel any less small in your presence
Letting go of his face you took a step back pretending to think for a moment "Alright then, I'll let you choose. Give me your number or get wedgied."
Jamie stood there dumb for a second, pants growing tighter and his skin warmer
"W-what?" He laughed nervously
Pulling his face closer to yours by the collar of his shirt you repeated your earlier statement to him in a slow demeaning manner, as if he was brain dead
"Give me your number or you get boo boo, oh no!" Your lips turned down in faux sadness
Jamie wasn't sure what to make of the situation, you usually weren't this physical with him, he was a little scared but mostly turned on. He didn't want to admit it but he had the teeniest tiniest crush on you and he blamed the stupid porn he'd been watching but he only looked into it because of you!
"I-I don't.." he paused
On one hand, he wanted to give you his number but on the other hand he'd never thought getting wedgied sounded so appealing
"You don't hmm~? Well, that just won't do. What happened to my big tough guy? Who was so strong and independent? Do you know darling? Ah, of course you don't. You're just as clueless as a little puppy dog and as cute as one too <3"
The new nickname shocked Jamie and caused him to audibly gasp, his hard-on fully visible now
"You can't j-just-aghhh"
You gripped him by his hair to cut him off
"Oh is puppy trying to give the orders now? What a silly little mutt you are, you really don't know how this works do you? The tent in your pants suggests otherwise but here you are telling me what I can and can't do with my property"
"I-I'm not yours y/n! A-and I'm not a pervert!!"
That first statement made your blood boil and you didn't even realize that you'd pushed Jamie down to his knees
"A good dog doesn't speak, a good dog gets treats and rewards but you're not being a good dog, Jamie. I know your tiny brain might not have comprehended it yet but you are mine, you're only mine. Who else is gonna talk to such a pervert hm? You were made for me, nobody else should ever see you like this, in fact, nobody ever sees you the way I do."
Before he could get a word out you pinned him to his position by placing your shoe on his clothed dick and reached over him to grab his boxers. Putting pressure on both simultaneously had him squirming and letting out the most sinful moans that made you wanna take him right then and there.
"Y-nnnnnnn" he whined, grinding up to help release some of the tension but each movement made the fabric between his ass more uncomfortable
"Shhh puppy, this is the punishment you've been given, I wouldn't be a very good owner if I didn't discipline my pet, you just gotta learn how to be good for me mkay? Don't you wanna learn how to be good and get rewards and pets and walkies~?"
All the new sensations made Jamie's head spin, his body felt like it was burning up from the inside out, his head was fuzzy, his dick was so much more sensitive than it had ever been while he was touching it and he couldn't place why the slight uncomfortableness of the wedgie made his parts throb even more, the whole situation was so intense poor boy couldn't fully wrap his doggy brain around it.
"I-I'm so close y/nnn, oh godd please, give me more! 'M so closeee" he panted not caring how pathetic he looked
"Already? Such a greedy pup for me hehe~ Have you learned your lesson, Jamie? Do you even deserve to cum against the bottom of my shoe?" You sang in a taunting manner pressing down even harder with your shoe
"I-, aghhhhh ohh yess fuck, YES! I'm yours y/n only yours! Promise! I'll-uggghh I'll be-hah hah- good! Just for you!"
"Atta boy! That wasn't so hard was it pup?" Finally letting go of his underwear you continued to let Jamie grind against your foot until he got to the edge
"M- boutta...cum!!" At this point, Jamie had grabbed your leg, chin resting on your thick thigh, eyes teary and glazed over staring up at you as if you were a goddess
Softly cupping his face you lifted it off your leg and removed any contact from his dick causing him to let out strings of breathy and high-pitched whines
You sat down and pulled him into your lap, gently wiping away the fresh fallen tears off his face
"W-*hiccup*why y/n, was so close...so close"
His protest died down with a stern look from you
"You'll be alright puppy, I promise. I'm gonna take care of you from now on, you are mine after all"
The rest of the evening was spent holding your new puppy, rubbing his tummy and flustering him with all the soft attention you gave him
He couldn't believe he got so lucky as to experience you, and as long as he considers being owned and expected to heed your everyword, he was lucky!
End <3
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ellecdc · 2 months
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Baaaaabe 😫
Ive been sick for the last couple days, and as always, that first day was horrible. Ive had my brain legit decide it wants to inflate bigger than my skull capacity (long story short, pregnancy 🫡) and i got to re-experience that feeling for the first 12 hours 💀
BUT i came back and i was sooo excited for your updates!! They were soo good (please tell me theres a part 2 to that angst....pls 🥺) And i love our discussions in the comments 🫶
I do have another request though if you have the time love. Another possessive!wolfstar buuuttt..... make reader Jamie's sister (twins?)!! Its troublesome enough for James to keep Sirius' hands to himself, but full moon Rem?? He's a brick wall. Like somethings happening between the 2 and Jamie is chasing reader, then she spots Rem and hides behind him. James tries to reach for her and Rem is just kinda like "???? Excuse me, thats mine. Dont touch. James Fleamont Potter. DONT. TOUCH." without even knowing whats going on. James is incredulous (because thats HIS sister) and Siri is chuckling but it looks like Rem might actually bite Jamie's hand off so he moves between them to seperate them but Rem is also like "ExCuSe YOU??? Also mine. *to siri* dont touch him. *to James* dont touch them or you might not have all your fingers when you wake up!!"
And just the repercussions of this where James isnt allowed alone with either until a couple days passed the 🌕
Hope youre looking after yourself darling 🩵
I love James' sister trope - something about it screams fluff and perhaps a little angst but just in all the best ways. I would imagine his sister to be so much like him: mischievous, funny, and full of love. Thanks for requesting!!!
poly!wolfstar x potter sister!reader
There were quite a few perks that came along with being James Potter's twin sister. One said perk was having a built-in best friend from the moment you came into the world. Another was that whilst you were attending school, you had the benefit of no one being willing to mess with you on account of the company you kept - namely, your brother and his infamous friends who called themselves The Marauders.
What being James Potter's twin sister couldn't protect you from? James Potter.
What could protect you from being James Potter's twin sister? Being the girlfriend of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.
You and James were leaving Care of Magical Creatures together, heading to meet up with Remus and Sirius near the Greenhouses when one Lily Evans walked by - graciously bestowing James the time of day for quite possibly the first time ever - when you decided that this was the perfect pranking opportunity.
You really couldn't be blamed for what happened next: it truly was a gift bestowed upon you by the great pranking gods, and who were you to deny it?
"Hello, Potter." Lily said, causing James to gasp dramatically.
"Hello, Lily! Beautiful day out today, innit?"
Lily couldn't help but snicker at the sickeningly wide grin that took over James' face.
"Oi, Jamie. I forgot to tell you: mum sent that rash cream you were asking for. She said to remind you it's only safe to put around your anus, not in it." You proclaimed loudly, pretending to read from a 'letter' your mother had sent.
The courtyard became incredibly quiet before what you recognized to be Barty Crouch Junior's laugh echoed the space, triggering the snickering of all those present.
"You are so dead!" James sneered and you didn't hesitate to take off in a sprint - knowing your brother was a mere few paces behind you.
"You slithering little snake! She finally starts coming around - are you kidding me!?" He shouted as you swerved between bodies standing in your way whilst he just barrelled right through them.
Suddenly, you saw salvation in the form of one Remus John Lupin.
Now, granted, Remus didn't always protect you from your squabbles with James. Part of the reason for that was because half of the time you sort of deserved it (much like today), and the other part was that he claimed he didn't know what proper protocol was in sibling relationships on account of him being an only child. Sirius, a brother himself, had no such qualms and always took your side.
However, you knew that the full moon was in a mere two more sleeps, meaning Remus was at his most protective (read: possessive) which did not distinguish James Potter as friend, sibling, nor pack.
Right now: James Potter was only a threat.
And, let's be honest, being James Potter's twin sister, and a girlfriend to Remus Lupin and Sirius black also meant you were mischievous as hell. So you had no trouble using this to your utmost advantage.
You squeaked in terror as you slid behind Remus' lanky frame a moment before James - the bastard - slammed into his form and all but bounced off of Remus. James was admittedly more muscular that Remus, but Remus' height and werewolf strength left him towering above James as the dumb sod picked himself up off the ground.
"What in the buggering hell is going on?" He spat at James as one of his arms wrapped behind him, shielding you from your fuming brother.
"That sneaky little witch just embarrassed me in front of Lily!" James barked, looking like he was still trying to figure out how to get around Remus in order to strangle you.
"Please," Sirius drawled as he walked over casually, "like you need any help in that department Prongs."
You tried to hide your snicker, but from Remus' glance at you through the corner of his eye, you knew he caught it.
"She told the entire courtyard I needed cream for a rash on my anus!"
Sirius doubled over in laughter and you preened when you noticed Remus let out a soft chuckle himself.
"It's not sodding funny you wanker! Lily spoke to me first today! I'm going to kill you!" James snarled, moving his attention from Sirius to you.
As James stepped forward menacingly, Remus grabbed the collar of his shirt. "Prongs, enough." He barked.
Sirius was still laughing when he moved to stand between Remus and James, releasing James' shirt from Remus' fist.
"Okay, down boy." Sirius snarked, patting James' shoulder consolingly.
"Oh, sod off." James muttered, elbowing Sirius as he moved to step away.
You let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding and tried to even out your breathing; lungs still burning from your run.
"You okay, dove?" Remus asked you so gently as he bent down to make eye contact with you. His face screamed love, attentiveness, and care, making you feel slightly guilty for having shoved him in the middle of your tom foolery.
"I'm fine, Moons. Sorry for causing trouble." You answered solemnly.
His face picked up slightly at your words as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "You wouldn't be you if you weren't causing trouble, love."
Your tender moment was interrupted by a yelp, causing the two of you to turn only to notice James and Sirius wrestling. James seemed to have gotten Sirius into a headlock, and the sod wasn't willing to tap out - still kicking and clawing at James in anyway he could.
"Oi!" Remus shouted as he plucked Sirius out of James' grasp and shoved him in the direction of the castle. James used his momentary distraction as an opportunity to set his sights back on you as he lunged, tackling you to the ground.
"Fuckin' hell Jamie! You weight a tonne!" You shouted, kneeing him in the gut. James doubled over and rolled onto his side in the fetal position.
You didn't even get a chance to right yourself before you were thrown over Remus' shoulder who was still shouting at Sirius to "get back to the dorm. The both of you are staying within my sights for the next foreseeable future" as you all left James with the wind knocked out of him, keeled over on the castle grounds.
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faith369 · 4 months
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ghost x sweet!reader. shes prices daughter and come to the base to visit her father with fresh baked goods for all his military friends too of course ! She catches his eye and might end up in his bed.
I really hope you like this and thank you sharing this cause its making me think unholy things
Simon 'Ghost' Riley x fem!reader
Warning: mdni, nsfw, p in v, orale (fem receiving)
Ghost knew the Captain had a daughter, what he didn't expect was for you to be such a sweet girl, way too pretty for your own good. He watched you laugh at one of Soap's jokes, shifting in his seat, trying to ignore the confined feeling in his pants. The sound of your laugh sent a shiver down his spine. He originally didn't mean to stay, as he wasn't in the mood to engage in conversation. But when he saw you in the break room motioning for him to come in with a sweet smile on your face, he couldn't resist, especially not after you shook his hand the polite girl you are, and he couldn't stop thinking about how soft they are and how they would feel around his cock. You had even managed to convince him to try one of the cupcakes you had baked, and as much as he liked them, they were the last thing on his mind. The dress you had on made your thighs more delicious than a cupcake could ever be. The Captain, who was the whole reason you came here, had left about 30 minutes ago after Laswell had called him about some meeting and because Simon knew how long these could last, he offered him to take you home, something that Price couldn't turn down.
Simon was more than aware that looking at his captain's daughter the way he did wasn't exactly okay, but he couldn‘t stop himself. And it wasn't like you didn't look at him just a tad bit too long for it to be appropriate, to your luck, however, Gaz and Soap were way too occupied with the backed goods to notice it. You found yourself unable to concentrate on the conversation, too busy thinking about your father's Lieutenant. His face was bare, no skull mask in sight. Something inside you made you want to reach out to feel the light stubble that grazed his cheek under your fingers. You were only able to shift your focus when Soap and Gaz started arguing about the last cupcake. Simon kept his eyes on you while you convinced them to share. You were so eager to make everyone happy, he started wondering whether you'd be such a good girl trying to please him.
..........................................................
Simon had a tight grip on your hips, keeping you still while he sucked your swollen clit. Your slick spread around his mouth, as he ate you out like a man starved. Your mewls only spurred him on, making him stick two of his thick digits into your aching cunny. "So wet just for me huh" he dragged his fingers along your walls, painfully slow but still hitting the spot inside you that made you feel dizzy, sweet pleasure just an inch away, but before you were able to grab it, Ghost had pulled out his fingers. You glared at him through half lidded eyes as he licked them clean. Your anger made him chuckle. “I know you wanted to cum, but I also  know that you're a good girl, so you've got to be patient for me”
You wanted to kick or scratch him, but you had a hard time getting your brain to do something other than watching him pull his length out of his boxers, its tip red glistening with precum. He ignored your whines about him being too big and just slipped his cock inside you, trying to keep himself from cumming on the spot at the heat of your tight walls. It felt like he was filling out every inch of you, leaving you no room to breathe as he settled inside you, his tip almost kissing your cervix, before starting to move at a pace that made you dig your nails in his back. "Fuck, we shouldn‘t be doing this.“ Ghost's hips were snapping against yours, the pace he had set turned any coherent thought that you had left into thin air. It didn‘t really matter anyway you had lost the ability to properly act the second simon pressed you against the door and kissed you when you just wanted to ask whether he was ready to bring you home. He was merciless in the way he fucked you, probably out of anger at himself for giving into the temptation of taking you. The growls that left his lips were animalistic, covering the whimpers and mewls that left yours, and still he told you to be quiet.  "Don't want your Dad to hear what you're doing, huh? Seducing his lieutenant to make him stuff you" his hand snaked its way between your hot bodies to play with your swollen almost abused clit. His movements were less controlled than before, he wouldn't admit it, but he was way to deep in pleasure to form a lot of thoughts himself. His skilled hands made your eyes roll back into your head. „Didn‘t sed… y..I“ It felt like he consumed every one of your senses, his big body over you blocking your view , his faint smell of cigarette smoke and sweat in your nose, his cock burried inside you. It was getting too much the knot that had started to form in your stomach a while ago felt constricted.
"Can't even talk anymore, huh?" You clenched down at his words, reaching your breaking point as the orgasm shook through your whole body. You arched your back, somewhere in the back of your mind, you hoped no one heard the way you moaned Simon's name like you were drowning, desperate for air. Simon couldn‘t keep himself from cumming at the way you constricted around him, grunting your name as he filled you up with his hot seed.
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-Requests are open loves <333
-masterlist-
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