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bluesidez · 1 month

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The Love Lab presents:

Wash Day 🫧🚿

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x AFAB!Reader

summary: Miguel offers to wash your hair because wash days can be a lot, mischief ensues.

content warning: 18+ MDNI, lots of fluff and banter, talks of marriage/proposal, lovey dovey!miguel, head scratching + massaging, p in v sex (wrap it up 🫵🏾, healthcare is expensive and so are babies), just the tip at one point, cussing, subby + service-like miguel (he does start to enter a daze that is similar to a sub drop, but it's not really that and the reader checks up on him immediately), needy!miguel, creative use of miguel's talons, kissing, hickys, a little hair pulling, manhandling, cunnilingus, fellatio, squirting, slight edging, praise kink, breeding kink towards the end, mentions of cum, overstimulation, a little aftercare, reader is a bit of a tease, miguel is a bit of a brat, more references to cats than I thought, no use of y/n

credit for the art/dividers: Me! (+ illustrator and canva)

a/n: This is my first fic that I am posting on here! 🤠 This one has been in the works for a while, but I am happy with the result. This story is written with a black reader in mind, but it's very inclusive minus the hair situation, so anyone can enjoy the story. There is one unrealistic part that NONE of my natural brethren would ever allow, I beg you to just go with it. 😭 I also used a little Spanish in here, to my Spanish-speakers, if anything is wrong, just let me know and I 'll change it right away!

I also imagined the shower to be one of those fancy walk-ins like this or this but big enough for two, because in my mind, Miguel is stacked in the money department as well.

word count: 6.9k (I got carried away)

To all my sub Mig lovers and fiends! Love ya! 🩵🪮

It was finally time for the day you’ve been putting off for about a week now, the taxing Wash Day.

Normally, you would drag this day out because you knew that once you started, you had to keep going until your hair was done and either ready for the bonnet or the hood dryer. Although today, you were lucky because you had a braid appointment the following morning, so that meant just a simple wash and a blow-dry. You were even luckier because your boyfriend, Miguel, was more than happy to wash your hair for you.

“I know how tired you get afterwards and I just want to help make the process easier,” is what you remember him telling you last night in your sleepy, whiny state.

Now, here you are the next day watching his eyebrows furrow in confusion, lips pouted in a crooked M as you guide him to the old faithful: the kitchen sink.

“Why are you giving me that face? You said you were gonna help,” you chuckle at his expression, watching as his eyes turn to your hair supplies littered across the counter.

“No, no! I still want to help. It’s just that,” he picks up your wide-tooth comb, running his fingers over the teeth, “I thought we were going to be in the shower.”

You look at him, a little dumbfounded at the statement. You didn’t mind washing your hair in the shower, you did it all the time, but what was the point of getting you both wet?

“I just thought it would be easier for you this way,” you reply, pulling the faucet from the sink and waving it around in an attempt to hype up the situation. “I’ll bend my head in the sink, and you’ll wash it that way. Or! You can hike me up on the counter and I can lay down with my head over the sink. That one’s a little less comfortable for me, but it gives you more than enough room to maneuver.”

“Hm,” he grunts, eyes going from you to the counter, then right back to you. “That’s fine and all, but what if my back starts to hurt from bending for too long.”

You just stare at him, unamused. If anyone would be in pain, it would be you.

“In the shower, we can stand together and I can see exactly what’s going on. Plus, you can wash my hair too,” he continues, pulling you flush against his chest, comb forgotten. He starts to rub your hips in a slow motion. “Let’s make it a date.”

“Ok, first of all, you’re not that old to where your back can just give out like that,” you quip, leaning back from his embrace to look him in the eyes. “Secondly, you expect me to believe that the Spiderman is unable to wash someone’s hair in this sink.”

“At 6’9? Absolutely.”

“Touché.”

Truthfully, Miguel was a bit turned on after spending the last 20 minutes watching you completely melt under his hands from scratching your scalp.

It was such a simple task but all of your sighs and whispers of “right there” and “harder” had him internally groaning.

When it was finished, you were up off the floor easily and blissfully unaware, while he was left with a few of your shedded curls covering his clothes and pre-cum threatening to seep into his underwear.

So yes, while technically the shower was the best option for him, he really wanted to ignite that same reaction from you again. It was addicting.

You reach up on your tippy toes and squish his face to give a quick peck to his lips. “Fine, fine! Quit your puppy dog eyes, we can go to the shower. Just let me pee first.”

Step 1 of Miguel’s master plan was already successfully underway.

He started to pick up your supplies, reading the ingredients out of curiosity. Today you were trying a new line of products that was making huge waves online. He remembers seeing how excited you were when the package came in. You had barrelled into the bedroom in a squealing frenzy, and had it not been for his spider senses listening out for you, he would have jumped from the way you threw the door open.

Even though it was another line of products that would fill up the bathroom cabinets, your giddiness rubbed off on him, so he was ready to see results.

“Baby, come on! I’m ready!”

Miguel quickly huddled up everything from the counter and made his way to the bathroom.

He walked in to see you standing next to the sink, birthday suit on and your hands reaching up to push your hair from your forehead.

Heaven-sent were the first words that came to mind. Here you were, standing in the steam of the bathroom just for his eyes. He couldn’t help but linger in the doorway, heart skipping a beat at the sight of you.

You turned to look back at him, mirth in your eyes, “Mig, come on, the water’s running.”

He didn’t even comprehend the sound of the water hitting the tiles, he was so zoned in on you.

“I’m coming, I was just…admiring you,” he replies, moving to prepare for the shower.

“There’s no way you’re eyeing me up right now. I look a little crazy,” you say, turning back towards the mirror.

“Querida, you could be rocking a spiked mohawk right now, and I would still have the same reaction. You’re beautiful no matter how your hair looks.”

You bit your lip, heart fluttering at his words. If you didn’t have to get ready for your hair appointment tomorrow, you’d stop everything then and there to love on your boyfriend.

For now, you settled on helping him out of his clothes, a smile growing on your face. You pulled his shirt up as far as you could reach, then let your hands roam over his chest, watching the goosebumps that followed behind. You kept your fingers walking down to the waistband of his pants, lightly scratching at his happy trail.

His stomach twitched in response to your touch, hands itching to pull you closer.

You placed your hands at his sides, gripping the waistband of his sweatpants and underwear, slowly tugging at the bands. You stepped forward to get a better leverage, breasts pressing against his torso.

His breaths were coming out in short beats, not wanting to disrupt the spell that you put him under. He looked down at the closing space between you all’s bodies because if he looked up at your eyes, he’d stop everything and take you right there against the counter.

But the shower. He was supposed to make it to the shower. Which was in an area by itself. In the next room. With your hands roaming everywhere, he wasn’t even sure if he could even make it past the toilet.

His eyes fluttered closed as you slid your hands back up his thighs, a deep breath building in his lungs. Like this, he was really able to tune in on both the heat of your body against his and the lingering touch of your hands. Hyper-focused on you and you alone.

Then he heard a loud slap.

His eyes bucked back open, body rigid as the sting came back in waves on the side of his ass.

“Come on, we’ve got heads to scrub!” you said, voice as clear as ever.

He watched you twirl towards the shower, his mind muddled from your switch to playfulness. Had he read that all wrong?

He looked down and sighed at the sight of his dick, half-hard at what could have been.

All he could do was stagger out of the clothes that pooled at his ankles, grab the hair products, and waddle to the shower.

You were already halfway under the spray of the shower head, head leaning back, waiting for the water to completely soak through the layers of your hair.

Miguel came up next to you and detached the shower head, bringing it closer to your scalp, careful not to get water in your ears.

“So first, we have to use the scalp scrub shampoo,” you say, grabbing one of the taller bottles and unscrewing it. “Just take this in your hands first, lather it, and work it into my scalp.”

You pull his left hand forward and squeeze some of the liquid in his palm.

“Is this enough?” he asked, noticing the little amount you put in his hand.

“Yep! A little can go a long way, baby,” you say, turning around to him, trying to determine how you would reach the top of his head.

Oh, how Miguel was so well acquainted with that phrase. Especially after this cat-and-mouse game you’ve been playing with him all day.

You faced him as he placed his fingers on your scalp, beginning to move in circles, spreading the shampoo in several sections.

“You can add a little pressure. I can take it,” you mumble out, almost low enough for Miguel to miss it.

So he does. He starts to scratch at your scalp, remembering that this is an important step. For your hair of course, not his plan.

“Ugh, that feels so nice,” you sigh, trying not to sway under him. “I should have had you do this sooner.”

Miguel thought so too. Here you are, head leaned back, eyes closed, and completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. He kept scratching at your scalp, your head nodding along with the motions.

“Can you scratch over here, please?” you ask, pointing at the right side of your head, eyes squeezed tight to not let any soap fall in them. Even after all of your teasing, you were still so cute in this moment. When Miguel complied, you showed your gratitude by groaning out a quick thank you. With a long sigh, you placed your hands in front of his chest, fingers balled up in loose fists.

“Does it feel good?” Miguel knew the answer, but he had to play along. “You want me to move anywhere else?”

“Yeah, could you just-” you leaned your head over, mindlessly guiding Miguel’s hands. “Right there, baby.”

You brought your hands up to grip at his wrists, needing something to hold onto. Miguel felt insane.

To curb the feeling, he quickly leaned down and kissed your forehead. His head was overloaded with the sound of your voice and he had to keep himself composed.

You looked up at him, eyes big and wide at his affection. He kept making you feel warm doing such mundane things. You purse your lips, silently begging for more.

Miguel brought his soapy hands to the water to quickly rinse them off, then placed them on your cheeks and leaned down again to kiss your lips.

One. Two. Three pecks and you were giggling.

Four. Five. Six pecks and you were on your tiptoes, arms crossed behind his neck.

Seven. Eight. Nine pecks and you were turning your head, opening your mouth for more.

Ten. Eleven. Twelve kisses and you were in his arms, feet off the ground, biting at his bottom lip.

By the thirteenth kiss, you were pulling your head back, staring into his eyes, grabbing at his nape.

“We still have to wash the shampoo out,” you say, watching as his eyes linger on your lips.

“We can do that,” he mumbles, still holding you close.

“Are you gonna put me down?” you ask, tone a little cheeky.

He snaps his eyes up at yours, eyebrow raised. “Are you gonna finish what you started?” He started to move one of his palms down your back, taking a thigh to pull around his waist, and placing his mouth on your jaw.

“Nuh uh, O’Hara,” you chide, pushing against his chest and wiggling to get him to remove his embrace. The water smacks against the tiles as you jump down, one calf still in Miguel’s hand.

“O’Hara?” Miguel scoffed, playfully pulling at you again and tickling your side. “I’m not sure who that is, but maybe you forgot how to say baby, mi vida.”

You laughed at him, finally calling out his bluff, “No, because my baby said he would help me wash my hair, and right now he’s being bad and trying to distract me. So, until you finish, it’s O’Hara.” You folded your arms and tilted your head to the side, daring Miguel to counter your words.

He dropped your leg and muttered out a gruff “fine” with his lips downturned. Two could play at this game and if he wanted to distract you, he just had to turn up the heat.

He grabbed for the shower head and started to rinse the thick shampoo from your hair, carefully weaving through the locks.

“When do we detangle it?”

You started to smile again, happy at his verb usage. He really does listen to you when you talk about your hair.

“When we put on the conditioner, but you can start a little now while the water’s running on it. Need the brush?”

“No, I’ll just use my fingers for a little bit.”

You turned your face back to him, shocked that he remembered another technique.

“You’re gonna finger detangle, ba- I mean, O’Hara?”

“Yes I am, corazón. Why are you looking at me like that? I’m a great boyfriend that knows what his girl needs.”

You squint your eyes, wary at his words. “Uh huh, I bet you do. If you know so much, what’s next?”

“We shampoo again. Rinse. Then it’s conditioner and detangling, just like you said.”

You hummed, internally ecstatic that he actually did know the answer. “Another point for you,” you say, turning back around as Miguel places the shower head back on the hook.

Miguel smirked. He listened to you, he really did, but he also made sure to watch over 20 videos about washing coily hair while you were sleeping. You didn’t have to know that though.

His high was short-lived when you bent over to grab the next shampoo. He grabbed at your hips, watching as the swell of your ass aligned against his front. He pushed his head back and breathed in deep. How unfair.

You leaned back up slowly, turning the bottle around trying to fish for any specific directions.

“This one is a hydrating shampoo. It says you can just put it on my hair and just work it through.”

Miguel repeated the same shampooing process, although this time with less scalp scratching and more scalp massaging. You were once again in bliss at his ministrations, like a cat who couldn’t stop purring.

“O’Hara, you really have a way with your hands. Super relaxing,” you say with snickers underlining your voice.

Miguel just reached for the shower head, ready to rinse for the second time. “This guy sounds like a real catch. Too bad he isn’t here.”

You just laugh at how sulky he sounded, ready to grab the conditioner.

“Well, is there a Mr. O’Hara here? I kind of need him for this last step.”

Miguel stopped in his tracks.

You really didn’t understand how much he wanted to make you his wife. In fact, he started planning the proposal to a T after a year of you all being together. He started to dream about a future with you after the first couple of dates, despite how often he had to tell himself to slow down. It was terrifying yet thrilling how much you left an impression on his life.

Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara.

Mr. O’Hara.

Mrs. O’Hara.

Miguel bent his head in your neck and wrapped his arms around your waist, face burning from his running thoughts.

“Y-you can’t use that against me. You know how I get,” he said petulantly, voice softened in the juncture of your neck, drowned out by the pouring water.

“And how do you get, baby?” you ask, reaching over to run your fingers through his damp hair. You tugged lightly at the root causing Miguel to hug you tighter and groan against your neck.

As hot as the water was, the heat of your body against his left him burning. The angle was weird so he couldn’t exactly rub up against you, but he could kiss along the surface of your shoulders.

He started to slowly press kisses down your neck, moaning as you tilted your head to give him more space. He stopped to linger at the top of your shoulder, taking in a small amount of skin. After he was happy at the mark he left, he opened his mouth a little wider, canines grazing against your skin.

You reach to pull his head back up, resting his jaw on your shoulder.

“Focus, Mr. O’Hara, it’s only one more step.” You say these words lowly right next to his ear, pressing your lips on his tragus then pushing his head up to kiss against his jaw.

When Miguel stood up fully, you could see the dazed look in his eyes. Staring closer, you noticed they were a little dewey.

You had to bring him back down to Earth. You couldn’t have him lost in this steam.

“Hey, baby look at me,” you even your tone and angle his face towards yours. “Are you alright? Do we need to sit down?”

You wait for his eyes to find yours, searching for discomfort.

“No, I'm fine. I’m ok, sorry,” he says, leaning into one of your hands, wrapping his hand around it for extra support.

“Positive? I know the water is really hot so if you need to step out and cool down, then that’s fine. I’ll help you settle down then come back and finish up by myself,” you say, adamant in your words.

“No! No, no. I’m really ok. I’m so cool and calm right now that it’s crazy,” he replies, frantic at the thought of leaving you in the shower. “Hand me the conditioner.”

You look at him again, tickled at the change in condition. All you could do was sigh, twist the cap off of the conditioner, and pull the inner lid off.

He dabbed two fingers on top of the cream, scooping a small amount off of the top. “A little goes a long way, right?”

“A little does go a long way.”

“Can you turn around, please?”

You comply, placing the conditioner in a corner.

“If you need it to lather a bit more, just add a little water,” you remind him.

He began to work the conditioner through, going from the root to the ends. The results were quick and he could see your curls begin to sprout. He started to thoroughly pull his fingers through, working out any leftover tangles. He got to a bigger knot and held the section of hair in one hand, and carefully combed through the knot with the other.

You were feeling peaceful until it dawned on you: you never gave him a comb or a brush to work with.

“Hold on, baby what are you using to take the knots out with? Do you have a comb?”

Miguel placed one of his hands in your face and pushed his talons out, like a cat showing its claws off when you press the center of its paw.

You panic, remembering that they can tear through people and metal, “Um. I don’t think using these bad boys on my hair is the right way to go.”

“Tranquila, mi amor, I got it. I’m using the dull side, see?”

He put a tuft of hair in front of your eyes and showed the process of him detangling while talon-less, then working out the final tough knot with the side of the talon, turning his hand sideways to avoid cutting your curls.

As a result, the section was completely detangled, allowing him to run his fingers straight through the thick strands, and the curls springing back up once he was finished. Plus, from what you could tell, there was no breakage.

Color you impressed because Miguel was pulling out all of the stops today.

“Alright, just. Be careful.”

“Always.”

“If you jack up my hair, Lyla will have to place Jess in charge permanently.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You stand, arms placed under your chest, waiting for Miguel to finish. Subconsciously listening to the pattern of his breaths and the sound of his talon going through your hair.

“Ok, that’s it. Do you want to wash my hair while this sits?”

Such a smart boyfriend.

“Yeah just let me go ahead and finish this shower while you get your hair wet.”

Miguel stepped back to get under the overhead shower head, letting the water fall on him like rain, watching you as you began to lather body wash on your net sponge.

You were scrubbing away at your skin getting into every crevice, peach fragrance filling the air.

He wanted to reach out and touch you, but look where that’s gotten him so far. Almost kicked out of the bathroom.

You were just as stubborn as he was, no, resolute.

He admired it, especially when you gracefully brought him down from clouds that were his own fantasies.

Focusing back on you, he stared openly as you folded your body in half to reach your ankles causing everything to be on display.

A normal person would put their foot on the ledge to reach below. You were definitely fucking with him.

He watched as you pulled the net sponge across your body, leaning up as the languid movements of your hands pulled the net side to side.

He was glad that the water drowned out his harsh breathing.

You finished off your shower, working the detached shower head over the soap, clearing up your skin.

You brought the shower head lower, making sure that there was no bubble left behind.

When you held your ass to help the water pass all the way down the back of your body, Miguel jumped to hold the base of his cock, softly groaning at the picture you were painting.

He lifted his face up and pushed his hair back, in hopes that the stream could help him clear his mind. But, the water was hot, all it did was make him lightheaded at the thought of you.

“Miguel? Come over here so I can wash you too.”

Miguel tottered over, looking down at your body, shining after all your thorough work. You were placing soap on a pair of exfoliating gloves you had bought for him, lathering them together once you were satisfied with the amount of soap.

You got to work on his body, starting at the shoulders and moving in circular motions.

Miguel stared in silence, hoping you would put an end to this charade. But you continue to be meticulous, covering every inch of his upper body. Lifting his arms when you wanted to. Moving him around when you wanted to.

In this moment, he felt like a ragdoll, letting you do whatever you pleased.

You squatted down to do his lower body, eyes laser focused, not missing a spot.

All Miguel could focus on was your face so close to his dick that was twitching in anticipation. You just ignored it and continued to rub the rest of him down. Miguel wanted to cry.

You were touching everywhere, slowing down on his inner thighs and ass causing his knees to shake.

You held him steady by gripping the back of his thighs and finally looked up at him, acknowledging his presence.

Your eyes traced him all the way down to the gift that was in front of you. You parted your lips and let your tongue brush against the tip, watching as spurts of pre-cum escaped. You couldn’t have that. You leaned forward a little more, taking the head in completely, and allowed yourself a few more licks and a suck before you let go with a pop, watching the thin trail of spit grow as you leaned back.

Miguel whined in frustration, a cloud of desire fading so quickly.

“Amor, why did you-”

You quickly jumped up and rested against him, arms wrapped around his waist and hands lightly groping his butt.

“I didn’t even wash your hair yet, silly,” you quip, chin nuzzling against his sternum. “Now, go rinse off and sit on the bench so I can reach your hair.”

Forget wanting to cry, Miguel might actually do it.

He was so, so hard.

After the soap was gone he trudged to the bench, glancing over at you washing the conditioner out of your hair.

“I could have washed it out for you,” he protests, half bothered by his situation and half annoyed that he let it blindside him from the main point of this shower.

“It’s ok, baby. You really helped me out a lot today and I’m thankful. I’m also making sure you don’t drop to the floor right now, so hold on for me,” you reply earnestly, chuckling at the look of frustration slapped across Miguel’s face.

You bring over the hydrating scrub, some conditioner, and the shower head, and stand in between his legs, ready to start.

Miguel looked up at you like you hung the stars in the sky, undeniably in love and unbelievably aroused.

You started to unscrew the scrub, making sure to part his hair down the middle.

“You’re using your products on me?” he asked, confused at your actions.

“Just the shampoo. I don’t think this conditioner will do you any good, but for the most part, the line is pretty inclusive. Ain’t that neat?”

“Mm-hm,” he responded, cheeks squished against your chest, arms wrapped around your thighs.

“Look forward, for me, baby,” you say, starting to spread the shampoo on his scalp.

He just hummed and groaned in the safety of your torso, while you scratched at his scalp and pulled the shampoo to his ends. He started to kiss and nibble at any skin he could get his mouth on. His grip was getting tighter and he felt a stutter in your breaths.

“Lean back so I can rinse this out.”

He placed his chin on your stomach again, eyes full of hearts.

“I’m almost finished, I just need to put your conditioner on.”

Miguel hummed once more as you placed the conditioner at his ends first, then scrunched his hair up, careful not to mess with his scalp. Mindful of his wavy, curly hair texture like he was for yours.

His wine eyes kept staring at you, as if you were the 8th wonder of the world. You felt heat in your face, an accumulation of the almost boiling water and Miguel’s full attention.

He was simply grinning, face wet and tinted from the water.

“You’re so cute,” you say, rinsing out the last of the product.

“Only with you,” he replies, still trying to make you look into his eyes. “Can you come closer?”

You set the shower head down and run your hands through his strands, “I feel like I’m already as close as it gets.”

“Not really,” he said, swiftly sitting you on his lap like you weighed nothing. “You could always be closer to me, cariño. I can think of many ways to make that happen.”

You finally allow yourself to indulge in his shenanigans. Leaning your forehead on his, you open your mouth to say, “Is that why you were so adamant about getting in the shower? To get as close to me as possible?”

He looked from your eyes to your mouth, “No?”

You bring your hands from his hair to his neck, “You know you can’t lie. In fact, you’re like, really bad at it.”

“Fine. It was partially because of that. How did you know?”

“Like I said, you can’t lie and neither can your face. You’ve been pouting ever since I let you scratch my head and especially when I wanted to wash my hair in the sink.”

“Am I that easy to read?”

“Kind of,” you say, a laugh twinkling off your lips. “I can always tell when you want me.”

“Yeah? And what am I telling you right now?” He starts to move your hips, placing his erection right under you, grinding your lips against him.

You close your eyes, a flame beginning to blossom within you, “I guess that you need, fuck, you need me.” Your clit was throbbing against his length as he dragged your body back and forth.

“I do, bebé, I do,” Miguel was moaning loudly, melting at the feeling of your pussy finally warming him up. He moved his lips to yours, desperately trying to have more of you, gripping your hips even harder.

“Baby, s-slow down,” you say in the midst of his kisses, trying to put your feet on the bench next to him to gain some sort of stability. You knew he was pent up, but he was moving so frantically, you were scared he might slip off.

“Te necesito. Please, just-” Miguel cut himself off with a groan in your neck, grinding your slit along himself faster. He started to kiss down your chest, finally getting to your breasts, and gliding his tongue along the wet skin. He took a nipple into his mouth, allowing himself to suck.

The flame from before was starting to grow, “Miggy if you keep going, I’m gonna cum.” He was just starting and you already felt everything coming to an end.

How were you so close, yet he was the one who was riled up?

“Miguel, I’m-” you hold on harder to his neck, eyebrows furrowed.

“Uh huh. C’mon, give it to me,” he encouraged, staring at you, eyes cloudy.

You break above him, a scream crawling from your throat, hips stuttering in his hold, and liquid leaking onto the floor.

“Oh my god,” your mind was hazy, reveling from how quick you came, but mostly at how needy Miguel looked.

“Was it good?” he asked, hugging your body as he switched angles, dragging his body closer to the edge of the bench, letting your feet fall to the floor. His voice was whiny, desperate, wanton. “Was I good for you? Did you feel good?”

You brought your mouth to his temple, movements shaky and heart still thumping, “You were so good for me, baby. So good.”

He sighed, breath leaving his lungs as if what you told him was a matter of life and death.

“Then use me,” he leaned back, hands pressed against the seat. “Use me, however you please.”

You stared at him, a little stunned but fully immersed. When you brought your hand to his chest, you could feel how fast his heart was moving. You brought your mouth to his once more, a thumb on his chin pushing so that lips could part. You kissed him deep, making sure to direct his focus there while you placed your knees on the bench.

Sitting just above him, you guided your sex to his, allowing his tip to barely kiss you. You wanted him, yearned for him inside of you, but not yet.

You slid his tip past your slit, only edging it in partially, then rubbed your pussy up and down the head, allowing yourself to open up.

Miguel moaned into your mouth, hands curling into fists as he felt your walls close around the top of him. He started to move in tiny thrusts matching your rhythm.

“Nuh uh, baby, it’s just me right now, remember?” You break your kiss to reprimand him, bringing your hand from his chin to his stomach, and stopping all movement.

Miguel could only cry out and nod, upset at the loss of your body devouring his own, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, keep going. I’ll be still, cariño, please.”

“Good. There he is, my sweet baby,” you say, voice a prime example at how much Miguel begging for you was affecting you.

You start back, ass moving with a bit more force. You lean to press a long kiss against his neck, losing yourself in the sound of him barely inside of you, his groans a lovely melody filling up the room.

“You feel amazing, Miguel. So big, and you’re only giving me so little,” you pant in his ear, knees starting to hurt from how hard the tiles were.

“It’s all for you. Just for you,” he gasped, twitching when the sounds of your juices got even louder at your constant movement. “Mi amor, please, can I hold you?”

“Always, baby.”

Internally you chuckled, you never told him he couldn’t touch you, you just followed his plea to use him like a toy. He was so pussy drunk, he forgot the parameters he set for himself.

He wrapped his biceps around you, your arms folding behind your back in the process, but that didn’t stop you from riding out the high that was another orgasm.

“That’s right, keep going. Úsame, take what you need,” he requested. He was itching to dive deeper into you, not wanting your pleasure to end.

You threw your head back and whined high with Miguel’s name on your tongue, gushing out your release for a second time.

“Fuck.” Miguel was still holding onto you, legs taut in their position. He swerved your pussy across his length, listening at how wet you were.

You laid your head on the tile above Miguel, relieved with its slight coolness and trying to slow down your rapid heartbeat. Your hips kept bucking as an aftereffect.

You didn’t get that much of a cool down before Miguel was at it again, finally sliding his dick in until he bottomed out.

The two of you let out long moans in unison, a harmony that wasn’t unfamiliar to your apartment.

In this position, your face was back in front if Miguel’s, eyes watery from the sensation of him filling you up.

“You’re perfect, you feel perfect,” Miguel cradled you, trying to get as comfortable as he could, despite the impossible position he put himself in.

Lifting his hips off of the bench, he held himself up by his back pressed against the tiles.

Before you could even ask him if you all should move to the floor, he knocked the wind out of you, holding you up as he slammed into you.

“Miguel!” you shout, clamoring for anything to grab onto after the impact had you knocking forward.

“I got you, I promise. Won’t let you fall,” he heaved out, words spilling out as fast as his hips were snapping.

All you could do was mutter out words incoherently, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass reverberating off of the walls. Your eyes finally let go of the tears they were holding, overwhelmed by your state of being.

“What’s that, mi amor?” Miguel cooed at you, licking off one of your tears and kissing your cheek. “Can you feel me? Is it too much?”

“I, ngh, I,” you could barely get your words out, your brain turning into mush after each thrust. Miguel kept going, humming as he spread kisses around your face.

“You gotta answer me, baby. I need to know,” he whispered.

“I’m trying,” you respond, voice cracking from overuse. You were still peeved at his composure. “I thought you said, oh my god, you said you didn’t want to hurt your back.”

Miguel just pursed his lips, eyes clearing up for just a second, “I didn’t. And I’m not going to, super-healing, remember?”

“That’s-” your sentence was cut off by Miguel hiking you up and smacking you back down in time with one of his thrusts.

“Shit! Do that again,” you sob, thoughts coming to a stop.

“Yeah?” Miguel tried his best to keep his eyes on you, but you were squeezing so tight around him that his eyes kept rolling.

“Yes, Miggy. Right there, that spot. It’s so,” you were drooling at this point. “It’s so much.”

Miguel kept it up, glad to be hearing those words, proud of himself for igniting you.

You held your head down, body wound tight, “I think I’m gonna cum. I’m close.”

“Again?” Miguel asked, heart fluttering at you falling apart on his dick.

“Yes, baby. Don’t stop,” you say, voice wavering.

Right as you felt your body beginning to let go, Miguel halted and sat back on the bench.

“No, no, no. Why did you-” You were cut off by Miguel grabbing you and placing you on your shoulders, pussy in his face.

He opened his mouth and pushed his tongue in where his cock once was swirling in and out, sucking at your folds. He starts to hum as if you've fed him his last meal, causing your orgasm to come in waves.

“Oh!” you shout, thighs quivering around his head, one hand gathering a fist of hair and the other pawing at the wall. Miguel was lapping everything up, holding you so that you couldn’t even think of falling.

“Ok, ok,” you say, mewling as he kept you in place while your hips shook. “S’too much.” He finally let’s go, placing you back in his lap.

“Did I do good?” he asks, chest rising and falling rapidly now that he catered to you. His face was a mess, evidence of you all down his neck.

You kissed his nose, giggling at his need for praise, “Yes, baby. You did amazing. Fantastic. Perfecto.”

He was practically vibrating with joy, kneading at your thighs.

“But Miggy, there’s still a problem,” you say, holding his face with both hands. “You still didn’t cum yet.”

You watched his face flit through several phases: ecstatic, worried, then hungry.

“Can I keep going?” he asks, hands starting to roam again.

You simply nod and try to prepare yourself for him moving you around again.

He sinks back in slowly, careful of your sensitive body. You try your best to move, hips working in circles, hands holding onto his thighs. You couldn't help but to squeeze onto him, despite how tired you were.

“You look so pretty,” Miguel mumbled.

“Bet I would look prettier if you finished. Inside.”

That fired him up even more. He started to help you to bounce up and down his length, teeth gritted. You held your head back, eyes scrunched at the feeling of him inside again.

Then he started to whimper, a telltale sign that he was close.

“Can you say it again, please?” he said, moving to stand with you in his arms.

“Say what?” you ask, exhausted yet in awe that he still had so much energy. “That I want you to cum inside? Fill me up?”

You could feel him twitch inside of you, mind hazy at the thought.

“Shockingly, no. My name. Porfa, mi vida. I need to hear it.” He was still holding you as he pounded away, eyes never leaving yours.

You’ve been saying his name the whole time, so surely that can’t be it. Then, it dawned on you.

“Let go, Mr. O’Hara,” you say, mouth right next to his.

And so he did. He bent over, hands gripping your sides as he snapped his hips frantically, groaning into your mouth as he kissed you hard. You could feel him seeping inside you, hot liquid filling you up.

You clutch at his shoulders, feeling your hold slipping from how wet his skin was from the shower and the heat. You cry out again, body sore from all of fun and sensitive from overstimulation.

Miguel finally let up for what felt like hours, standing up straight and pulling you off his dick. He hissed at the feeling, angling your body parallel to his so that everything could fall to the shower floor.

You lay your head on his shoulder tiredly, grateful that he was still carrying you.

“That’s going to mess up the drain. You should have just let it stay in me until it took,” you mumble into his shoulder, hearing his breath hitch at your words. “Or until I got to the toilet or something.”

He brought you both back to the bench, “You're on the pill so stop teasing me about that.”

“But that doesn’t mean that you can’t live out your breed-”

“Yeah, yeah. I got it, mi amor,” he says, pecking your lips to stop you from continuing. “Now let's clean you up. Again.”

He reaches for the shower head and checks the temperature. Humming, he aims the spray at your lower area.

You jump and yelp, “That’s so fucking cold!”

“Bébe, it’s literally warm. I just checked!”

No wonder he was about to die in the steam, “You know how hot I like my showers, and that’s ice cold right now.”

“Well I’m sorry it’s not burning, but we have to clean you up,” he said, trying to console you. “I’ll warm you up later.”

You look at him and there’s this playful look on his face. “No,” you say, just the thought of doing this again making you sleepy.

You eye his body up and down. “Maybe later.”

He just chuckled and finished up.

An hour later, the two of you are dry, blow dried, and comfortably laid out across the couch with baking competition shows queued up on the TV.

You look up at Miguel from your position on his chest, cheesing from ear to ear.

He feels you staring at him and looks down, eyes warm. “What?” he asks, watching your face light up.

“Nothing. I just love you,” you say, unable to look away.

He kisses you, heart keeping a steady beat, “I love you too.”

I hope you enjoyed reading! 🩵🩵

Any likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated and welcomed.

(And did anyone catch my Beyoncé Cécred refs?? I have no idea how brand names work with fics so I just stuck to nameless descriptions😭)

- Lauro 🧼

#love lab fics 🧫#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel x reader #spider man 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel 2099 #miguel o'hara x black reader #miguel x black reader #sub miguel o'hara #sub miguel #x black reader #x black!reader #afab reader #x black fem reader #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #seriously though can I say brand names in fics?#i love miguel so much i could do a backflip #my friends are only mildly concered

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pix3lplays · 1 month

Note

The first thing I thought of when seeing Boothill was "Save a horse ride, a cowboy" 🤠 But then I thought it would be adorable if his s/o took that literally and they enjoy getting piggyback rides from him all around the place.

Does he care that people give you guys looks? No. Do you take his hat and wear it while you're there? Occasionally. Does he particularly mind? Of course not, cuz it's not his hat anymore it belongs to both of you if you wanna borrow it.

…

I’ve seen the Boothill playlists, lol.

But ohhh my gosh that’s so cute.

“Boothill! Carry me.”

Doesn’t matter where. Doesn’t matter when. Sure, he’ll carry you. He’s your Favorite method of transportation. And he’s sooo strong too, given he’s a cyborg so…he has no problem carrying you whenever you’d like.

And yeah he doesn’t care at ALL what people think, why would he?

I ended up on the “how to lift someone using the bridal or fireman carry” wikihow and I’m sobbing imagining him just…slinging you over his shoulders. You wanna be carried? Fine. This is easiest so that’s what you’re getting.

But yes this leads me to the idea of really physically affectionate Boothill. He can’t keep his hands off of you.

One of his favorites is to just pull you into his lap while he’s sitting. He tends to just rest his chin on your head, holding your hand…KING of CLING.

And yeah that is no longer his hat. That is OUR hat. I bet if you have piercings the two of you can swap around earrings. Oh you have cutesy earrings exclusively?? He doesn’t care. He’ll wear whatever earrings you’ve got, very proudly too.

#suggestive #cw suggestive #I guess lol but not really #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr Boothill x reader #honkai star rail Boothill x reader #boothill x reader

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evie-sturns · 4 months

Text

Chris Sturniolo Boyfriend Imagines

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very requested part 2 of matt sturniolo boyfriend imagines!!

summary: cute lil imagines!!

contains: NSFW at the bottom, nothing else just cute fluff!

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this man is definitely super clingy once you guys make your relationship official, your going out to the grocery store? he’s right behind you. he basically cannot let you go anywhere alone 😭

it takes a while for him to fully warm up to you because he’s scared of losing you by getting too comfortable, but once he finally 100% trusts you he’s not afraid to burp in your face! 🤠

you guys cook dinner together each night, even if your not feeling well Chris will drag you to the kitchen and then sit you down on the countertop and let you watch him cook, (he always ends up burning something so you are forced to get down to help him)

he hides it when he’s stressed but you can always tell so you go round to his house unannounced and just cuddle him in bed until he talks to you about what’s bothering him, it helps him when he talks about it with you so that’s one of the reasons he loves you. “thank you for listening to my nonsense..” “i feel bad making you sit here and listen to me yap”

when you guys argue he gets a little bit immature so you have to apologise first so he doesn’t get to hurt and upset, he doesn’t want you to be mad at him but he can’t bring himself to face you to apologise after an argument in fear of making it worse.

this man always has his hands on you to let everyone know your his, if you’re out in public he’s holding your hand, holding your waist, playing with your hair, it doesn’t matter where you are he’s superrr touchy.

he loves to pick you up, when you two are just standing around he will come and hold you above his head randomly while your squealing, laughing and flailing your arms and legs “chris i’m too heavy your gonna drop me!” “shut up y/n you basically weigh nothing.”

he HATES arguing with you, when you drive away from his house after an argument this man will lock his door and just cry, he will never tell you but he’s definitely a crier after you leave mad at him.

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the first time you two fuck he goes slowly at first but looses self control and starts pounding into you from behind 😭, then afterwards he gives you tons of words of affirmation and make sure you’re okay - “you took me so good baby” “ i didn’t go too hard yeah?”

he defo doesn’t give you enough time to adjust to his size, he’ll push all the way inside of you relatively slowly but then instantly start thrusting.

this man LOVES hair pulling, like he grabs your hair and pulls it for support and to keep him balanced while he’s hitting from behind, he always apologises after though 😭

he’s a slut for public sex, he will take you behind a bush and fuck you, he doesn’t care where you guys are he just needs to be inside you.

he loves aftercare and making sure your comfortable after fucking, like he’s picking you up and placing you on the countertop in the bathroom while he cleans up the inside of your thighs while telling you how perfect you are, then he doesn’t bother getting you changed he just places you into bed and cuddles you while rubbing your back.

he loves when you get on top, he gets submissive and try’s to hide it, but he’s pretty bad at hiding it 😭. like he will 100% be whimpering and arcing his back off the bed when he’s close while he holds your hips tightly. “f-fuck oh my god y/n i’m so close..”

he is a makeup-sex kind of guy, after you two apologise to each other and there’s still some awkward tension he’ll just take your hand and silently take you into the bedroom.

this man is a sucker for blowjobs, sometimes he’ll purposely act more stressed than he actually his just to get you to suck his dick to “calm him down” 🫢

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that’s all for today!! my requests are open so request whatever you want and i’ll probably write it

hope y’all enjoyed

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic

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asimpwithfreetime · 1 year

Note

Lowkey need yandereJake sex… imagine you finally get comfy enough to mate with him and he litteraly treats you like a princess the entire time constantly praising you for any action you do 😭

YASSSS GOOD YANDERE JAKE SMUTTTTTT! 💃💃💃💃

Mating time (Yandere! Jake Sully x Fem! Reader)

Content warnings: English isn’t my first language, this hasn’t been proofread yet, it is an extremely loooong one-shot.

General warning: SMUT, if you feel uncomfortable with the idea of this 3 meters tall aliens having monster cocks, please don’t read this 🤠 I have the strange idea that the queue/braid can give them orgasms, so it will be used as an overstimulating prop.

Specific tags for this smut: dirty talking, praising, Jake being a pussy eater (it is already a accepted headcanon in the fandom lol), foreplay, handjob, belly bulge (even if you are a Na’vi), overstimulation, squirting, cum eating. Soft dom! Yandere! Jake Sully. Jake Sully purring and whining. Porn without plot.

[ 3rd Person POV ]

Jake beamed at Y/n as she finished saying that she was ready to mate with him. He had waited so long, trying to not manipulate her. He wanted this to be real, for her and for him.

His tails swished with excitement as he looked at her. “Let’s do this” he said.

They went to a secluded area, Jake seemed so happy he could die. Y/n felt a little bit concerned about it.

“Baby, I am so happy” he said, pulling her towards him and roughly kissing her. His tongue explored her mouth with force, yet his hands were drawing soft and gentle patterns into her skin.

Y/n moaned and Jake could swear he saw the stars. He wanted to hear more of that. He stared peppering kisses along her neck, making her whine. He swore he got harder just for that.

He undid her loincloth rather easily, pushing aside the necklace that worked as a top. His hands traveled the inside of her thighs, not quite touching what was important. His mouth licked, sucked and kissed every patch of skin on her breasts, making the moment hot and romantic. His gentle and caring movements relaxing Y/n.

His hand pressed softly against the skin of her entrance, he caressed every spot with softness. It even seemed like he was teasing her instead of pleasing her.

“Mmmm.. MaJake” Y/n muttered, her whines and moans getting in the way “more…”. Jake smiled proudly, lowering himself until he could start eating her out. Her hands flew to his hair in an instant.

He started licking in circles around the labia, sometimes penetrating her with his tongue. Jake knew exactly what he was doing.

Once he found the clit, he started sucking, making slurping noises just to embarrass her. “Jake, oh Eywa” she moaned, her ears flattened against her skin, her moans escaping her parted lips. “Come on, sweetheart” Jake said, introducing one slender finger into her. She moaned and her back arched.

He continued to make her feel pleasure while he waited patiently for her to cum. Her breath hitched in her throat, her toes curled and for a moment her eyes rolled back. He drank her cum as she released and came down from her high.

“Ah… ahh” she said “For the love of Eywa, Jake, how do you do that?” She asked, amazed. “Do what?” He passed a finger upwards her slit, making her shiver with the tiniest overstimulation.

They began making out again, Y/n tasting herself in his mouth. Her hand began traveling downwards until she found his cock and started playing with it. Jake’s attitude changed, he became whinier and started panting as soon as she started pumping.

Jake moaned deep in his throat. Pre-cum leaked from his top while he started moving his hips to meet the movement of her hand. He didn’t stop once the kissing and he slowly started giving hickeys to her neck once they separated.

“I want to put it in you…” Jake growled as he began softly bitting one of her nipples. She nodded. “Do it” her voice close to a whisper as she continued masturbating him.

Jake steadied himself, giving Y/n one last kiss before aligning his dick on her pussy. “I am going in…” he moaned once he felt the tightness around his dick. “Is so hot I feel I could melt” he says.

Face to face, both moving at the rhythm of their moans and the sound of skin against skin. “Ah… baby” Jake sometimes moaned. He pulled it almost out completely before, without much force, turning Y/n completely around, now she was riding on a reverse cowgirl style.

He started rutting into her with speed, pulling her thoughts up and down with his strong hands. He pressed her to himself, her back against his chest. “Oh look, love” Jake said, stoping the unhuman speed humping to play with her stomach. In the lowers my point of her tummy there was a a bulge that appeared and disappeared as Jake’s cock entered and came out.

Y/n whined with shyness. “Such a beautiful sight” Jake murmured against her hair and pressed one hand against her belly. She moaned, moving her head. Jake noticed that they had just mated “human” style but their queues were yet to be connected.

He took his, nearing hers and seeing how they connected. Soon both of them felt an overwhelming feeling. They could feel their own pleasure but a ten times stronger experience.

“Ahhh… Jake, what are you doing?” Y/n moaned. The new sensation had her body’s sensitivity going over the roof. Her pleasure tingling in every muscle of her body. She felt the coil in her stomach stronger, growing closer to an orgasm.

“Ahhhh, Jake, oh Eywa, what a sensation” she moaned, her pussy clenching around his dick with such force he felt heaven. She came again, her fluids running down his cock and into his thighs. She began a trembling mess, little chills going up and down her spine.

“Ahh, I am coming” Jake said. “Where do you want it?” He asked. Suddenly Y/n turned around dumbfounded. “Where?” She asked.

“There isn’t enough time” he pulled out started immediately jacking off. As Y/n was now sitting on the floor, he got up, lowered himself and demanded “open your pretty little mouth, atta girl”.

Y/n did as ordered, opening her mouth and receiving all of Jake’s load, not letting a single drop be wasted.

#avatar james cameron #avatar x reader #avatar #yandere avatar (james cameron)#avatar 2 #yandere avatar #jake sully #jake sully x reader #yandere jake sully #avatar smut #jake sully smut

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yoon-kooks · 1 year

Text

on mute | jjk

🦈pairing: fuckboy!gamer!jjk x reader

🦈genre: friends to lovers, office!au, coworker!au, smut, fluff

🦈summary: You always assumed your handsome coworker was down to fuck anyone in the office except for you. He always assumed you weren’t interested in a guy like him. And both of you were content with never admitting your feelings… until he unknowingly confides in you in the realms of a certain tactical FPS game.

🦈word count: 10.7k

🦈warnings: mutual pining, shooter game references, soft fuckboy vibes, fingering, doggy style, protected sex bc bro aint taking no chances🤠

a/n: i wasnt planning on including smut so thats a bonus✨

You press a hand to your mouth to suppress a yawn as the department meeting finally comes to an end. Your boss had gone over the schedule for next quarter, alluded to a few new projects, and gave a few shoutouts to people on your team who apparently “went the extra mile” this week. You couldn’t care less about being acknowledged for your work, but it does kind of irk you that Jeon Jungkook got a shoutout when you’ve never seen him do extra work in the office. All he’s done this week is take your pretty lady boss out to lunch. If that’s considered extra work, you suppose Jungkook works the hardest. After all, he’s the type to make time for anyone he wants to sleep with aka everyone in the office except for you.

As you scoot your chair out, you back into something very solid. Surely no one is dumb enough to stand right behind your chair when they know how eager everyone is to get out of here for the weekend. But when you turn around, you know exactly who it is without even seeing his face—Employee of the Week Jeon Jungkook.

You stare at the back of his shoulders in that mustard button-down, and it occurs to you that it was his nice ass that you’d bumped into. He didn’t even stumble forward from the impact or at least step aside so you can leave like everyone else. You just want to get home, soak in a nice hot bubble bath, and play a few games with your calico all curled up in your lap—that’s the ideal Friday night that Jeon Jungkook is keeping you from.

“Excuse me, kind sir,” you say as your nude acrylics tap the armrest.

The boy turns around with fake astonishment. And a handsome smile. “Oh, Y/N, I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I mean, yeah, I’d be gone too if someone wasn’t blocking my way out.” In the year that you’ve been on the same team as Jungkook, the two of you somehow developed this sarcastic and aggressive way of speaking without actually being mad at each other. Some call it banter, but you dislike the possible romantic implications of that.

“What’s the rush? Got plans tonight?” He still doesn’t move out of the way. You didn’t expect him pinning you against a table in the office to be so underwhelming. You imagine a fuck boy like him could try a little harder, be a little rougher. Not that you’ve ever fantasized about it.

“Yeah, I just bought some cute new lingerie for when I hop into bed with Christina Lauren and my cat.” You leave out the gaming part of your Friday night plans. If he knew you played the same game as him, he’d probably use it against you somehow.

“Who’s Christina Lauren?” he asks. You love the thought of him imagining you in lingerie with some mystery woman. Or maybe that’d just encourage a threesome.

“My cat’s favorite romance writer?” You say it like it should be common sense to know that your cat purrs himself to sleep when you read to him.

“And you’re going to waste your cute new lingerie on reading a Lauren Christina bedtime story to your cat?”

“It’s Christina Lauren, not Lauren Christina.”

“Christina Lauren doesn’t care about your lingerie.” It amuses you how he keeps bringing up the lingerie. You wonder what he’d think if he saw you in that skimpy mesh fabric. It’d probably come as a shock to him considering he’s only ever seen you in your preppy office attire. He has no idea what you’re capable of beneath those cream blouses and mocha mini skirts.

If only he knew.

“Tldr, yes I have very urgent plans tonight.” That reminds you, you need to check your in-game shop to see if any pretty skins are on sale this time around. You’ve been eyeing the one with the cute whale shark design.

“What a coincidence, Lauren Christina is my favorite writer too. I really liked that one book she wrote.” You don’t hate that he’s prolonging the conversation, but if he says “Lauren Christina” one more time, you’re gonna report him to HR.

“Same,” you chuckle. “Now please move so I can leave.”

He finally steps aside. Before he can pull a fast one and trap you again, you throw your tiny bag over your shoulder and scurry for the exit. You stop just outside the conference room and spin around. The boy’s eyes quickly shift up from your skirt.

“Coming or not?” you ask with a head tilt. If there’s one good thing about having a local fuck boy in the office, it’s that you always have someone who’ll walk you to your car when it’s dark out. That’s one of the things you know he does just for you.

On the elevator ride down, it’s just you and him because everyone else has already vacated the building. You sneak a peek at your handsome colleague. It’s a shame that he spends more time in your coworkers’ beds than in actual relationships. If not for that, you’d—

“You should recommend a book for me,” he says, catching you mindlessly staring at him. Oops.

“You don’t look like a reader.” You doubt he’d ever pick up a book over girls.

“I’ll read a book if you say it’s good.” Now he’s just sweet talking you, and you’re not going to fall for it. Except, you would love someone to gush to about your favorite books.

“Dating You/Hating You.” The book title just sort of slips out of your mouth. Though you can’t exactly vouch for how good it is since it’s the one you’re currently reading.

“Give me your best elevator pitch for it.” Haha, he thinks he’s so funny. (You laugh anyway.)

Persuasion is your thing, but you can’t give a proper elevator pitch for a book you haven’t actually finished yet. Moreover, you don’t know what kinds of genres he’d be into or if this book would be a good fit for him. You don’t even know any of his interests outside of sex and video games.

When you really think about it, there’s not much you know about Jeon Jungkook. He’s a mystery, but a charming one.

“It’ll give us something to talk about,” you say softly as the loud ding interrupts. “That’s my elevator pitch to you.”

“Not bad,” he nods as you both exit the elevator. That was way easier than expected. “Is it by your cat’s favorite romance author?”

“It is,” you smile. It’s hard not to smile when you’re with him. “I can lend you my copy next week after I fin—”

“Jungkook!” The new recruiting coordinator blocks your way out of the building with eager eyes and a smile brighter than your own. “Still down for drinks later at that place we talked about?”

You try not to roll your eyes as you step around yet another coworker who ignores you standing right next to the boy they want to ask out. You and Jungkook aren’t a thing, but it does hurt to know that not a single person thinks of you as worthy competition. He’s probably made it very clear to everyone in the office that you and him are just friends and that your nightly walks to the parking lot are for safety purposes only.

Thankfully, you get out of the building before you can hear Jungkook accept the invitation into someone else’s bed. The last thing you want is to be jealous of the people he’d rather be spending time with. You and your silly little book recommendations mean nothing to him.

Nothing at all.

“Sorry about that.” He catches up to you a minute later in the dimly lit parking lot.

You shake your head. “It’s alright. That’s what happens when you’re the popular guy.” And you mean it, too. You’re not the type to fault people for being who they are, nor would you ever ask them to change for you. Besides, there’s really nothing between you and him. There’s nothing he should feel sorry for.

“Hey, why do you always park in the furthest corner of the parking lot?” he teases, probably as a way to change the subject. You see his car parked just a few spots down from you, so he doesn’t really have a right to criticize your decisions. Looks like your habit has rubbed off on him. “It’d be safer if you parked closer to the building.”

You shrug even though the parking placement and slightly longer walks are intentional. He doesn’t need to know it’s your subtle way of prolonging the time you spend with him. You always look forward to those few extra minutes where he’s all yours.

“It doesn’t feel dangerous here at all.” Not when you’re with him. You unlock your car and hop into the driver’s seat.

“Yeah, totally not dangerous.” Jungkook holds your door as he scans the dark and empty lot for anything suspicious. He listens as a few sirens screech in the distance and does a double-take at the lone soda can rolling around in the wind. When the coast is clear, he turns back to you. “I look forward to reading the Lauren Christina book when your cat’s done with it.”

He waits for your seatbelt to click before closing the door. You roll the window down and glare. “It’s Christina Lauren! And have fun on your date.”

With a wave of your manicure, you’re off to your “urgent” Friday night plans.

When you return home, you get what you want. You strip off your work clothes and soak in a lavender bubble bath for a good 30 minutes before admiring the new lingerie Jungkook wouldn’t stop mentioning earlier.

It’s tempting to try it on now, but you wish someone else could see it on you. Jungkook is right. Christina Lauren doesn’t care about your lingerie. If the boy were here to see it for himself, you want to know what he’d think, what he’d say, and what he’d do to your body. It’d probably be incredible—for one night—but that’d be the end of it. That’s how all of his flings go, and a hypothetical one with you would be no different. With a sigh, you set the lingerie aside, throw on an oversized sweatshirt that just barely covers your ass, and load into your game.

The first thing you do is check the shop for the cute gun skin with the whale shark design. The RNG gods give you a couple of good knives, an awful pistol, a subpar rifle, and no shark. It’s fine, you tell yourself. You didn’t want to spend real money on pretty pixels anyway.

As soon as your first match starts, your four teammates are quick to use their mics. Apparently, they all know each other. Can’t relate.

“So… How’d the date go?” asks the healer. The two duelists place their bets on whether the date went incredibly well or horribly wrong. You silently cast your vote for horribly wrong since you lean toward pessimism.

“I didn’t end up going,” says the initiator. He sounds a lot like a certain Jeon Jungkook, but you shouldn’t assume. As far as you know, he doesn’t have a reason to cancel the date with that recruiting coordinator. In fact, he should be having drunk sex with her right about now. Not that it’s any of your business to know what your handsome coworker does after hours. None of that involves you.

“Is it because of You-know-who?” asks the duelist who voted with you. You-know-who? Like a jealous ex-lover? Sounds like drama to you.

“Yep…” Nah, it can’t be the Jeon Jungkook you know. This guy’s voice is giving you more lovesick puppy than confident fuck boy. He dies from a grenade and goes silent for the next few rounds while his buddies keep providing intel to the team. You pick up the whale shark gun over his dead body.

“Hey, CL,” the healer calls out your username. “Do you have a mic?”

Yes, you do have a mic. No, you’re not going to use it. These guys seem harmless so far, but it’s not always fun when people realize you’re the only female on the team. Men in this game try to hit on you just like the ones you pass in the short distance from the office to your car. And they’ll only stop pestering you if you’re walking next to a guy like Jungkook, which you clearly don’t have in this game with your empty friend list. So you’d rather stay on mute for now.

“my mic is broken,” you type, “cat knocked it over.”

“Ah, that’s okay.” He heals you up and saves you from an otherwise fatal headshot. “We were just wondering if you could help our buddy out.”

You? You’re not sure how you’re supposed to be of any help to a lovesick puppy when you haven’t had much luck in the love department either. But you are a curious kitten when it comes to other people’s love lives.

“maybe… can i get more context?”

Apparently, this lovesick puppy (or “Jklmnop” according to his username) has a little more in common with Jungkook than you’d originally thought. Turns out both of them are the designated fuck boys at their workplaces. Except this one has a massive crush on his “super hot” colleague. Jeon Jungkook would never.

The issue is that Jklmnop caught feelings for the one person who doesn’t seem interested in him. Worse, it feels like he’s being friendzoned. And he’s been going on dates with other people in an attempt to squash those unrequited feelings, but it’s just not doing the trick.

“i know a fuck boy too.” You are by no means an expert in the fuck boy archetype, but perhaps your time spent with Jungkook has prepared you for this opportunity to help a friend in need. And you do have some advice. “im not saying fucking all your coworkers is a bad thing but if you really want this girl you need to go all in on her and show her that you’re willing to commit to something more serious.”

Because if you knew this to be true about your own local fuck boy, you’d give him a chance, too. But as far as you know, Jungkook has never shown any romantic interest in you (or anyone else for that matter). He’s just a platonic buddy to you and a fuck buddy to everyone else.

“and it’s very possible she doesnt even realize youre interested in her,” you type, “this is a dumb question but have you tried asking her out yet?”

Your dumb question gets a few laughs from the boys. You feel like an IT person asking their client if they’ve tried turning their computer off and on again.

“Oh, our guy here doesn’t ask people out. He’s the one getting asked out all the time,” Duelist #1 explains.

“It’s been a year and You-know-who hasn’t made a move on him, so that must mean she doesn’t like him,” Duelist #2 adds in a sarcastic tone. You imagine him rolling his eyes on the other side of his screen.

“well @Jklmnop if you dont normally ask ppl out, itll hold more weight when you do.” Your fingers pause for a second. Maybe you’re just soft, but it’d mean a lot to you if you were asked out by the Jeon Jungkook. You’re sure this fuck boy could pull it off too. “you should ask her out. maybe shes waiting for you to make the move.”

You don’t get an immediate response, but he trades his pretty shark gun for your plain one. He must have seen you steal the one over his dead body a few rounds ago. What a thoughtful guy.

Then a friend request pops up. Fine. Jklmnop can be the one username on your otherwise empty friend list.

“I’ll ask her if the opportunity arises,” Jklmnop says after clutching a 1v4. “Thanks bro.”

On Monday, you’re a lot sleepier than you should be at the beginning of the work week because you practically spent the entire weekend gaming with your new fuck boy friend and finishing the book you recommended to your office fuck boy friend.

Your dark circles must be pretty bad because Jungkook feels the need to stop by your desk and say, “Up all night reading Lauren Christina?” He taps the book on your mousepad, so he can clearly see that it’s Christina Lauren and not Lauren Christina. He’s just teasing you at this point.

“It’s Christina Lauren, you shithead. And yes, I finished it, so you can read it now,” you say, handing the book to the boy. He holds it with a soft grip as if to avoid creasing the pages. If library books were treated with the same care, they wouldn’t feel so crusty all the time. You can respect guys with gentle hands. “I expect a full book report by Friday.”

“At least give me the weekend,” he frowns. It’s the most attractive frown you’ve ever seen.

“Sure, if that’s how you want to spend your weekend,” you yawn. Wouldn’t he rather be doing anything else on his days off than read your book?

“That’s how you spent your weekend, Sleepyhead.” He makes a good point. His chuckle is quite cute too.

As he flips through the book, you see something shimmery wedged between the pages toward the end of the story. You told yourself a million times to take your silly little bookmark out before lending him the book, but of course you forgot. Maybe he won’t notice.

Unfortunately for you, Jungkook pulls the metallic blue bookmark out to examine it. His lips curve upward when he sees it’s shaped like a whale shark. Oh great. He’s definitely gonna tease you about it. You knew you should’ve gone with one of the more sophisticated leather bookmarks.

“You really like these guys, huh.” He holds it up by the chain to let some light shine through the tiny holes mimicking the shark’s gorgeous spotty pattern. Not the reaction you were expecting, but you’ll take it.

“What makes you say that?” You don’t ever recall confiding in him about your whale shark obsession. Last time you checked, all of your nerdy and kiddish quirks were kept far away from your office. It’s just not on-brand for the professional image you’ve established here.

“Didn’t you have a cute whale shark phone case when you first started working here? Before you switched it to that cream-colored one?” He wrinkles his face, deep in thought as he tucks the bookmark back where he found it. He’s right, though. You just assumed no one had ever noticed it. As soon as you got your new work phone, you switched to something more neutral to fit your minimalist aesthetic.

“Oh, right.” You’d forgotten about the case just like you forgot about the bookmark. But Jungkook somehow notices and remembers those kinds of details about you. It’s almost endearing in a way.

You shouldn’t let yourself think like that, though. Those are dangerous thoughts.

“By the way, how was your date?” As much as you hate to admit it, you’re curious about his date with the recruiting coordinator. Besides, if he says it went well, you’ll have yet another reason to stop holding onto the tiny feelings you have for him.

“I didn’t go.”

“Oh,” you press a finger to your parted lips. That’s unheard of for Jeon Jungkook. “Did her cat die or something?”

“Why does someone’s cat need to die for the date to be canceled?”

“There must’ve been a pretty big emergency for you to forgo a date, no?”

“Is that what you really think of me, Y/N?” He cocks his head to the side because he’s a fuck boy and that’s what fuck boys do.

“That’s not what I think of you.” Another yawn slips from your mouth. “It’s just facts. You have a 99% attendance rate when it comes to dates, don’t you?”

He nods because he can’t argue with the credible gossip that goes on in your office.

“Anyway, I’m going to run to that coffee shop you won’t shut up about,” he says as he glances at the time on his phone and then at the dark abyss under your eyes. “Need anything?”

“Hmm…” You pretend to think deeply about your order. Usually when other people go on coffee runs, you request something easy to remember like an oat latte. But for Jeon Jungkook, the boy who keeps fucking up Christina Lauren’s name, you won’t go so easy. “How about an iced birthday cake latte with oat milk, an extra shot of espresso, two pumps of toffee syrup, and the crème brûlée topping? Please.”

“So… birthday cake frappuccino with oat milk?” He snickers in your sleepy face before walking off. “You’re gonna have to come with if you want all that extra stuff.”

It’s a latte, not a frappuccino. But you suppose it doesn’t matter if he knows the difference because you’re scurrying to catch up with him as he heads for the elevator.

The “coffee shop you won’t shut up about” has been open for a few months now, and you’ve stopped by at least two times a week since the grand opening for your usual dose of caffeine. Should you be proud or embarrassed that the baristas all know your name and order? How about when they raise their eyebrows at the sight of you walking in with your handsome coworker?

“She’ll have a birthday cake frapp—”

“Don’t listen to him. I’ll get a birthday cake latte, please,” you tell the barista at the register. Jungkook chuckles as you give his arm a light shove. “With oat milk and crème brûlée today.”

“Sure thing, Y/N,” she smiles at you and then turns to the boy next to you. “Anything for you?”

“Just plain coffee, thanks,” he says after a quick glance at the menu. You hate that he orders plain coffee when the menu has all these fun options like pink donut lattes or cookies n cream cappuccinos. If he wanted black coffee, he could’ve saved time and money by brewing some in the office. He didn’t have to go all the way to the coffee shop you wouldn’t shut up about. But he did. And he invited you along for the ride.

As the two of you wait for your drinks, you pick the booth in the corner next to the window. You’ve always had this vision of sitting inside a cozy cafe to work from your laptop or read a book. It just hasn’t happened yet because you get scared off when all the other customers bring their friends or lovers to share that experience with. Your laptop and books can’t compare to that.

You’ve always been envious. Until today.

“That doesn’t look nearly as complex as it sounded,” Jungkook says when he sees your latte with the fancy crème brûlée on it. He slides his boring coffee across the table to you. “I’ll let you try mine if you let me try yours.”

Only a weirdo would accept a pathetic offer like that.

“Deal.” You take a sip of your sugary treat before passing it off to the boy. He winces from how sweet yours is compared to the bitterness of his black coffee. You make a face for the opposite reason.

“I’m surprised you agreed to it,” he hums with a tiny bit of crème brûlée around his mouth. You want to kiss it off. He must notice you eyeing his lips because he wipes it off with his thumb a second later.

“I wanted you to try my special drink,” you say. It’s for the same reason you lent him your book—to let him know another tiny piece of you without explicitly saying it.

“I’ll have to get it myself next time we come.” He pulls up the notes app on his phone and types as he speaks. You wonder if “next time” and “we” imply that this coffee outing is going to become another routine thing between you and him, just like your walks to the parking lot. Hopefully it does. No, it definitely will. Because you’ll be the one to ask him next time. “What’s it called again? Birthday cake frappuccino… with crème brûlée?”

“Exactly,” you lie. Who knows. His mistake might taste even better. You’ll have to find a way to sneak a taste when he isn’t looking. It’s something sweet to look forward to.

As you sip your latte, the barista who took your order catches your eye from across the store, points at Jungkook, and mouths something to you. You don’t quite catch it, so she repeats it again just as your coworker turns to see what you’re staring at.

“Boyfriend?” she mouths, clear as day, before spinning around to use the espresso machine.

When the boy turns back to you, he has such a goofy grin on his face. He points to himself and repeats, “Boyfriend?”

“Stop,” you laugh at his antics but totally dodge the question. “Anyway… may I ask why you didn’t go on that date with the recruiting coordinator?”

His eyes are wide. Probably because it’s not like you to pry. But you just want to make sense of why he’s sitting here with you, acting all sweet and boyfriend-like, after bailing on someone else a few days ago. He’s not his usual self either.

“It was faster to reject her,” he shrugs. You didn’t realize he was in such a hurry on Friday. It certainly didn’t seem like it with how he’d blocked your way out of the conference room.

“What were you in such a hurry for?”

“Isn’t it our unspoken thing to walk to the parking lot together?” He says it like you’re silly. Like the fate of the world depends on him being able to fulfill his duty of walking you to your car each and every day. Like he’d forgo hours of good sex for a five-minute walk with you.

“It’s not unspoken if we talk about it,” you say softly. You’ve always adored the short walks with Jungkook, but maybe you weren’t the only one who felt that way. What kind of guy rejects a date just so he can keep up this year-old tradition between you and him? No guy has ever done anything close to that for you. “But yeah, it is our thing.”

The boy nods with a gentle smile as he sips his coffee. For just a split second, he gives you Jklmnop vibes. You don’t know how else to explain it. He’s a fuck boy, but there’s something so delicate about him that you want to touch without breaking.

You wonder if he’d ever let you in.

On the way out, your favorite friendly barista waves you over to the counter with a huge grin. As much as you love the girl, you’re scared of what might come out of her mouth next. She leans in as if to whisper but ends up shouting over the grinder in the background.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about him.” Her eyes flick to somewhere beyond your shoulders. “He’s such a hottie, by the way. Y’all are kinda cute together.”

A snort comes from right behind you. “Thank you,” says the hottie. Your hottie, apparently. It would’ve been perfectly fine for him to clarify that the two of you aren’t actually together, but you suppose his ego was too busy soaking in the compliment from the pretty barista.

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow at Jungkook as soon as you’re both out the door.

“What?” What’s with that playful smile of his?

“You didn’t deny what she said.”

“A compliment’s a compliment, Y/N.”

“I didn’t mean the part about you being a hottie.” You shudder at that last word. Yes, Jungkook is the hottest guy you’ve ever seen, but he doesn’t need to hear that from your mouth. “I meant the part about you being my boyfriend.”

“You didn’t deny it earlier, either,” he shrugs. True. “Besides, isn’t that also a compliment?”

Now that he’s mentioned it, it does feel pretty nice to be seen as a couple with someone as attractive as Jungkook—to give the illusion that it’s you who’s got him wrapped around your finger, you who he chose above everyone else, and you who gets to fall asleep in his arms every night. And it feels especially good considering how often other people dismiss you as someone not good enough for him. In fact, this is the first time anyone has ever acknowledged that the two of you go well together.

“Hey man, mind if I steal that fine little lady for a sec?” a sleazy voice calls out in your direction. You don’t bother turning your head to acknowledge the presence of yet another ignorant hooligan on the street, but you do step a little closer to Jungkook. You don’t know what pisses you off more: the fact that this stranger is another nonbeliever that you could be dating a guy like Jungkook or the fact that he asked for another male’s permission to talk to you instead of asking you directly. Most catcallers keep their mouths shut when you’re walking with your handsome coworker, but this one clearly can’t take a hint.

A warm hand pulls you in at the waist. It’s the same soft grip Jungkook held your book with. And you kind of never want him to let go. Because when he holds you close like that, all the shitty people become irrelevant. That doesn’t, however, stop you from getting a kick out of the death stare he gives the catcaller who finally backs off.

“You really showed him,” you tease. His face loosens up after you let out a tiny snicker. Still, he studies your every expression to make sure you’re alright.

“Does that happen to you wherever you go?” he asks as he moves his arm up from your waist to your shoulder, something slightly more appropriate for two friendly colleagues. Suddenly your waist feels cold.

“Usually when I’m out by myself.” Whether it’s the supermarket, the park, the office, you’ve felt objectified pretty much everywhere. Even online. The sad thing about it is that you know you’re not the only one. ”But I’m used to it at this point.”

“Well, men are kind of shitty,” he huffs, looking rather frustrated on your behalf. You’ve never seen him so irritated. For the most part, he knows how to keep a calm composure, even during busy season. It’s oddly satisfying that an inconvenience for you is what brought that emotion out of him.

“I used to think that,” you admit as the two of you enter the office building. “But all it takes is one good guy to outweigh the shitty ones.”

For you, Jungkook has always been that one good guy.

“True. I suppose that hottie boyfriend of yours isn’t that bad, huh.” He gives you a soft shoulder squeeze in the elevator before dropping his arm back to his side. It’s a subtle taste of what he could be doing to other places on your body if he were actually your boyfriend. He’d handle you with so much care.

“You won’t let that go, will you?” you pout, pointing your thumb back in the general direction of the coffee shop. “Those baristas really think we’re dating now, you know.”

He pinches your pouty cheek and leaves you at your desk with a not-so-innocent remark.

“I wonder why they think that about us.”

The second half of your day feels painfully long. It’s kind of hard to focus on designing wholesome character models when you’ve got Jeon Jungkook stuck in your head. At this rate, your cute little characters are going to turn into bad boys who steal your books and lattes along with your heart. You can’t help it when he’s been extra sweet to you lately. Sweeter than a birthday cake frappuccino could ever be. And just like your favorite sugary beverages, there’s something so addicting about his company.

As you’re finishing up some designs, you spot the boy chatting with his buddies from the other departments. It’s unfair that an entire friend group can be so goodlooking. And it’s even more unfair that Jungkook is still the one you can’t take your eyes off of in the handsome bunch. Great, now you’re even more distracted.

“Hey, I saw you were online again last night,” says the guy from accounting. He has long pretty eyelashes. “Where was my invite?”

“Ah, yeah. Remember that girl on our team the other night?” Jungkook has a cheeky grin. Why does he have such a cheeky grin while talking about some e-girl, and why does your tummy hurt all of a sudden? “She helped me climb out of plat. She’s diamond.”

So what? That’s the same rank as you. Nothing special. Hmph. You hope she gets demoted before the act ends. You’re not a jealous person, but you are petty.

“How do you know she’s a she?” asks the engineer with plump lips.

“That’s what she told me,” Jungkook continues. “And it fits with the fact that she doesn’t use a mic. You guys know how fucked up people can be in that game.”

You nod along to that.

“What’s her username again? I wanna add her now,” the other engineer jumps in. This one has broad shoulders. Very broad.

“You just want to hit on her,” Engineer #1 shakes his head at Engineer #2. You agree with that too.

“Is she single? Or at least around our age?” asks the accountant.

“You guys are monsters,” Jungkook laughs. “I’ll give you her username only if you promise not to simp.”

“Fine,” they all agree reluctantly.

You convince yourself that you’re only eavesdropping because they’re talking too loud, but you’re actually just curious to search up the username and see how this e-girl’s game stats stack up against yours. You’re quite confident your headshot percentage will outrank hers.

“It’s CL, remember?”

“Oh right.”

No, not right. That’s definitely not the username you picked as a subtle nod to your favorite author, and Jungkook is definitely not the lovesick fuck boy you’ve been giving advice to through some wack ass shooter game. Definitely not.

Because if it were true, that would mean Jungkook has a crush on somebody in your office. And who the heck would that be?

“Ready to head out?” Jungkook pops out of nowhere and scares the shit out of you. You nearly leap out of your seat with a tight fist around your tablet pen like you’re about to knife the boy in-game. He holds your book up as a shield. “Whoa there.”

“My bad, I thought you were the enemy.” You snap the pen back onto your tablet and say it with a straight face as if he knows you play the same violent game as him.

He plays along, scanning the office for anyone suspicious. “Who’s the enemy?”

“Marketing?” You only say that because everyone in the office knows the marketing director Kim Namjoon was your college nemesis back when you were even pettier than you are now.

“Ah,” he nods as you pack up and roll your chair in. You’ve always wondered why he just accepts the weird things you do without question. “Glad I’m not your enemy. Wouldn’t want to be stabbed by your tablet pen. Or your nails.”

He points to your pretty manicure. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s subtly asking to hold your hand. But you do know better. He has an intense crush on someone else in the building, so there’s really no reason why he’d want to hold your hand.

So instead of misreading the situation and making a fool of yourself by entwining your fingers with his, you poke your favorite of his tattoos (the silly face on his middle finger) with your acrylic. “Consider yourself stabbed.”

You try not to look at the boy’s wrinkly smile. But it’s incredibly hard. Instead, you redirect your eyes anywhere else. Of course they fall on the “it couple” of the office passing by. They don’t do a whole lot of PDA, but the way they look at each other says it all, and they have this glow about them that seems so unobtainable. You feel the envy creeping up again.

On the elevator ride down, you try not to think about the happy couple or Jungkook’s wrinkly smile. It’s making you sad.

“Can I ask you something?” he turns to you. Maybe his question will take your mind off everything bringing your mood down. You nod for him to proceed. “How do you feel about dating a coworker?”

Shitty. You feel shitty. He could probably sense that from your silence upon seeing the couple.

“You mean like Hyuna and Dawn?” You don’t have a problem with it, or with them. If you could pull off a perfect office romance like them, you’d do it too. But it doesn’t seem likely for you, and that’s what sucks.

“Just in general. Like, do you think it’s fine, or is it crossing the line?” he asks. Aha, you get it now. He’s asking for your opinion because he doesn’t want to make you, his totally platonic friend, feel uncomfortable when he starts dating whoever he has a crush on here.

“HR allows it, so I don’t really see a problem with it,” you answer honestly. Sure, you’d be hurt if you had to work in an environment where Jungkook is doing lovey-dovey things with someone else, but you’re not going to be the one to ruin it for him.

“I’ve never seen you date anyone here, though.”

“Well I don’t get asked out all the time like you, Jungkook.”

“What about Mark from accounting? Or my guy Jooheon before he moved overseas? And don’t get me started on Kim Namjoon.” He has his fingers out and ready to list all the other guys in the office who’ve expressed some sort of interest in you, but he decides against it when he sees you glaring back at him. Wise man.

You’d love to know why he’s so familiar with your nonexistent office dating history.

“Okay, I get it. I’ve been asked out a fair amount,” you sigh. “But it doesn’t really count if they aren’t the right person.”

That earns you a soft head tilt from the boy. You swear he’s a puppy. “Oh? Miss Y/N has a type?”

When you think about it, a few of the guys who’ve asked out were your type—smart, funny, hardworking—and yet you still said no. They’ve never hand-delivered meeting notes and chamomile tea when you were out sick, never walked you to your car, never given you something to look forward to at work, and never known your favorite animal. They’ve never made you want them the way you want a certain someone else.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a type.” It’s a person. The person who makes you feel so safe and cared for. The person who has feelings for another girl. “It’s a little more complicated than that.”

You don’t like being vague, but saying any more than that would only set you up for heartbreak. He can’t hurt you if you stay silent.

As the elevator continues to count down, Jungkook leans against the railing, arms crossed and head down. He’s awfully quiet for someone who always feels the need to say something silly until you laugh.

“What if I told you there’s one more person in the office who’s interested in you?” he asks just before the elevator arrives on the first floor.

The door slides open but neither of you steps out, so it closes back up.

You blink at the boy. First you learn Jungkook has a crush on someone, and now someone suddenly has a crush on you? Your brain genuinely doesn’t know what to do with all this information.

You’d ask who your secret admirer is, but it doesn’t matter. You’d only say yes to one person in this office, and his feelings lie elsewhere. Maybe he’s just trying to set you up with another guy who can walk you to your car. It’s not like the two of you would be able to keep up that tradition once he’s committed to someone else.

You’d rather walk alone at that point.

“A workplace romance sounds cool and all.” You point at the book in Jungkook’s hand while trying to keep a light tone. “But it’s just not for me. You know what I mean?”

He nods with a chuckle as the two of you finally clear out of the elevator. “Based on my history here, it’s probably not for me either.”

You know he’s poking fun at himself, but you hope he doesn’t actually feel that way about himself. He still needs to ask his girl out, and he can’t chicken out now. As the person he’s confided in about his feelings, it’s your job to shower him with encouragement and support. You’ll have to wait until you’re back online, though.

On the way to your car, the office romance conversation has been completely dropped. You ramble on about your sudden craving for tacos, and he claims he makes a “mean taco salad” before sending you a screenshot of the recipe no one asked for. You’ll try it when you get home.

Like always, he leans against your car door as you buckle yourself in. This time, he even tugs on the seatbelt like amusement park workers do before sending you off on a roller coaster. As gentle as he is, it stings where the tips of his fingers graze your shoulder. That feeling lingers even after the door closes.

Jungkook wasn’t lying, you think to yourself as you munch away at his definition of a “mean taco salad.” Your first instinct is to text him about it, but your second one is to silence your phone and cozy up for the night. After your shower, you have another staredown with the pretty lingerie set. At this rate, no one’s going to see you in it, so you might as well wear it and look cute for yourself.

It’s a little more see-through than you’re normally comfortable with, but the soft silky champagne accents make your body glow. To complete the look, you throw on a short skimpy robe with a baby pink floral pattern. Perhaps you’re being extra for a quiet night in with your cat and a cup of chamomile tea. But it’s what you need right now because you’re desperately searching for something to comfort and distract you from that dang feeling Jungkook left you with.

It also couldn’t hurt to play a few games without Jklmnop. Maybe you’ll get lucky with the whale shark gun today.

Unfortunately, there’s still no whale shark gun in your shop, but at least Jungkook isn’t online yet. The four games you play without him go really well stat-wise. You’re the team MVP for half those games—something you hadn’t achieved all weekend with Jklmnop on your team. He’s a great friend but the kind of ally who will intentionally blind you so he can make you quake in your boots and steal your kill in the process. He’s lucky he hasn’t let you die while fucking around like that. Still, you can’t remember the last time you had that much fun in your matches.

As you review the summary of game #4, a notification pops up in the top corner of your screen.

[Jklmnop is online!]

“wanna carry me to radiant?” he DMs you right away and sends you an invite.

“no,” you type as you join his party.

“what if i trade you my whale shark gun?”

“fine”

The first thing you do when you spawn into the match is demand the whale shark gun. You put your baseball bat to his head, waiting for him to keep his end of the bargain. The boy drops the gun in front of you and backs away slowly.

“It’s cute that you like that skin so much,” he chuckles into his mic. When you hear his voice, you feel like an idiot for convincing yourself that Jklmnop and Jeon Jungkook weren’t the same person. There’s no mistaking that that’s the calm and flirty voice that has haunted you every day at work for the past year. Does it make you an asshole for wholeheartedly believing your local fuck boy friend wasn’t capable of developing real feelings for someone in the office? Probably, but you intend on redeeming yourself by sending him your full support in the love department. You’re just waiting for him to bring it up.

Twenty kills and one stolen ace later, Jungkook still hasn’t said anything about the mysterious You-know-who—which is weird, considering he wouldn’t shut up all weekend about how she’s “soft like a kitten” but “one that won’t hesitate to bring the claws out.” Who is this girl, and what has she done to Jungkook? He’s become a total cheeseball. And you can’t think of a single person in the office who fits his cheesy description.

“any update on youknowwho about youknowwhat?” you type between rounds.

Jungkook’s character paces back and forth in the snow even after the round begins. The three other members of your team starts following him like ducklings without knowing the context. You watch from afar as they get sniped down one by one until you’re the last one alive.

Usually in 1v5 situations like this, you’re great at keeping your cool and isolating your duels so you aren’t overwhelmed by an ambush. But instead of listening for footsteps and directional cues, you’re listening hard for the boy’s response to your question.

“Clutch this and I’ll give you an update on You-know-who,” he says after you cut the enemy team’s numbers down to one. All you have to do now is plant the bomb and wait for the last person to come out to start defusing. That’s when you’ll swoop in and—

Your character falls face first into the snow. You’ve been knifed from behind, which loses you the round but earns you an evil snicker from Jungkook.

At the start of the next round, you wait once more for the boy to trade his gun with you. But instead, he just stands there, clutching onto the weapon while the rest of the team rushes onto the site to plant the bomb.

“I’ve decided not to ask her out,” he says out of nowhere. “We have this wholesome thing between us, and it’s best if we keep it that way.”

“what makes you say that?” you type before joining up with the others on site. As far as you know, Jungkook isn’t wholesome with any coworker. Except you, maybe. He must have some other strange definition of wholesome.

“Let’s just say I read a whole ass book tonight about a workplace romance and realized I’m not cut out for it.” He really read your book. No. He devoured it. Why does that mean the absolute world to you? “She’s seen me going on date after date, and now I’m pretty sure I’ve scared her away from wanting any part of that.”

He’s not wrong. You used to feel the same way about him, so you understand why he has his reservations. But if that girl knew how much he’d cherish their relationship the way he cherishes your friendship with him, you know she’d fall for him too. There’s no doubt in your mind about that. It’s just a matter of him vocalizing it.

“i still think you should be upfront with her about your feelings,” you type away as you get headshot from who knows where.

“She can’t hurt me if I stay silent,” Jungkook hums as he runs toward the ticking bomb and crouches in front of it. It looks like he’s trying to defuse the bomb that your own team planted, but it explodes in his face before you have time to correct him.

“gj,” one of your teammates puts in the chat even though everyone watching knows it was not a “good job.” The only silver lining is that he secured the win for your team. You don’t feel like playing anymore, anyway.

Before you log off for the night, you start typing out some long motivational speech along with your top ten reasons as to why Jungkook would make an excellent boyfriend. He’d try new things with you, share some of his favorite things with you, make sure you’re safe, and tease you until the end of time while making you feel so so loved. You know this because it’s what he’s done with you for the past year. But the more you think about it, the more you realize it’s not your place to say all of that from behind a screen with your mic on mute.

You end up deleting your whole spiel and settle for a simple “good night😴” to the boy from your gaming account. Then you get back on your phone.

Y/N🦈 [11:47PM] “It was indeed a mean taco salad”

Y/N🦈 [11:47PM] “Btw did you finish the book?👀”

Jungkook🥴 [11:48PM] “Finished it in 4 hours😌”

Y/N🦈 [11:49PM] “Wanna drop it off to me now?”

Jungkook🥴 [11:49PM] “Now?”

Jungkook🥴 [11:50PM] “Isn’t it past your bedtime?”

Y/N🦈 [11:51PM] “Yes but my cat can’t fall asleep without his bedtime story”

Y/N🦈 [11:51PM] “🥺”

Y/N🦈 [11:51PM] “^^^My cat”

Jungkook🥴 [11:54PM] “omw”

The boy knocks on your door a few minutes later and does a horrible job of keeping his eyes above shoulder level. It doesn’t occur to you that your chest and ass are hanging out of your robe until the chilly air hits those spots.

“All dressed up for your night with Lauren Christina?” he says casually, handing the book back to you in mint condition.

“I thought you said Christina Lauren doesn’t care about my lingerie.” You cross your arms over your chest like it was totally intentional to answer the door in the bare minimum. Jungkook’s sleepwear, on the other hand, looks super cozy. And of fucking course he’s hot as hell in something as simple as sweats and a hoodie. A boy like him doesn’t have to put in any thought or effort to look cute.

“I stand by what I said.” He stares at your exposed skin in an almost lustful manner. Almost. “It’s cold out. You should go crawl back in bed and read your cat his bedtime story. Or do you need me to tuck him in, too?”

“He is quite needy,” you play along. Too bad he’s already fast asleep, all curled up on the couch. You wouldn’t mind if Jungkook tucked you in, though.

“Well tell your needy cat I said goodnight.” He takes a step back toward his car, but you know he must realize you didn’t call him all the way over here just for your cat’s sake.

“Jungkook,” you call out while flipping through the book. Once you find the bookmark wedged in the middle, you extend it to him like a peace offering.

He accepts the bookmark albeit with a puzzled expression. “Is this gratuity for delivering your book at this late hour?”

You shake your head. “It’s gratuity for lending me your whale shark gun all the time.”

“Whale shark gun?” He grips the bookmark by the dorsal fin and holds it like a pistol. It’s aimed at your left breast (or heart) (but breast sounds more accurate).

“The one from the Gentle Giants collection,” you say softly as you rub your arms because holy shit is it cold out. “In Valoranch.”

The wheels in his head start to turn as you pull him inside and toward your “work from home” setup in the living room. Your desk is pretty empty aside from the pastel headset, the cute dolphin Pokémon on your desktop wallpaper, and a cold cup of tea.

Then he spots the little Valoranch shortcut on the far left corner of your screen. “Wait, you really play Valoranch? What’s your username?”

Instead of telling him, you show him with the help of your book. Your index finger slides across the bookcover from the C in Christina to the L in Lauren.

His eyes widen like a naughty cat caught doing something it shouldn’t be doing.

“Then that means you know about…” He pauses because he dare not repeat his feelings for another coworker in front of you.

You nod. “But I didn’t realize it was you until I overheard you talking about it with the guys earlier today.”

“My voice and backstory didn’t give it away?”

“It definitely sounded like you.” You plop into your chair and start spinning around so he can’t get a clear view of your face. “But how was I supposed to know you had feelings for someone in our office? I still don’t know who she is, by the way.”

“You don’t?” Your childlike spins are interrupted by a steady hand. From the corner of your eye, you can see the boy’s face transition from doomed to amused. Good. He shouldn’t beat himself up over the bizarre situation.

“Nope.” At least you don’t have a specific face to imagine being next to Jungkook’s on those corny holiday cards that couples and families love to hand out around the office this time of year. “Regardless, you need to stop chickening out and just tell her how you feel already. If she knows you the way I know you, I promise you have nothing to worry about.”

The thing is, you don’t know if anyone else has been on the receiving end of the kinds of things Jungkook does for you. Does he show that side to anyone else but you?

“Fine, you’ve convinced me. I’ll do it.” He sits himself down beside the cat on the couch. “But only if you can figure out who it is.”

You give him a tiny nod for him to drop some hints. Of course you’ll lend an ear and play along if that’s what it takes for him to be more open about his feelings. Besides, you can’t say no when his voice is so soft and fragile like that.

“She’s on the design team.” Your team is fairly small, so that narrows it down to names and faces you’d actually recognize.

“She has the most complex coffee order I’ve ever seen.” More complex than yours?

“I impulse-bought that whale shark gun because it reminds me of her.” Someone else has good taste in endangered marine life.

“My second job includes walking her to her car after work and pretending to be her hottie boyfriend.” Wait.

“And lastly, in case all of those other hints weren’t obvious enough, she has a needy cat who’s obsessed with Christina Lauren.” He strokes between your needy kitty’s ears and tucks the little guy in under a blanket. What a lucky cat.

Jungkook only stops with the wholesome shit when you climb into his lap and press your lips into his jawline. On instinct, he slips beneath your robe and grabs you at the waist with those gentle hands of his. He smells of cardamom and cedarwood, like the candle you burn on cold nights when fluffy blankets aren’t enough. And like a moth, you’re attracted to the light and warmth he radiates in the dimness of your home. Even if it means you might get burned.

“Congratulations, you finally got the name right.” You stick your tongue out while your nails comb their way through the locks of hair at the back of his neck. He locks eyes with you, leaning ever so slightly into the massage the way cats do when they need more attention.

And then your lips meet his. You expect the guy who’s locked lips with everyone in the office to get straight to the point and not hold back, but that isn’t the case. What he gives you instead is a soft graze, an affectionate tease. When you try to go in for another taste, he pulls back and lets you chase him. You’d love nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face with another kiss.

“I thought you said you weren’t down to date a coworker?” Smartass. You wouldn’t be sitting on top of his cock if you weren’t down to be more intimate with him.

“That only applies to everyone except you.” Your robe slides off your shoulder as you poke him in the chest. Funny how you aren’t cold anymore.

“What makes me so special?” he asks while getting a sneak peek of the pretty lingerie you’d secretly hoped he’d see on you.

You think about all the little things he does—he walks with you, reads your book recommendations, takes note of your favorite animals and coffee shops. And he never expects anything in return, including your feelings apparently. He just wants to make sure you feel seen and know he always has your back. When he’s too chicken to be upfront about his feelings, you’ve come to realize this is his love language.

“You might be open about all the sleeping around you do with other people, but the subtle thoughtful things you do just for me don’t go unnoticed.” You run your fingers along his cheek and bring your lips within striking distance from his. This time, he doesn’t initiate another chase and allows you to press your words into his mouth. “Plus I think it’s really cute that you use the whale shark skin in-game because of me.”

“That’s when I knew I was down bad.” The sound he makes is somewhere between a chuckle and an embarrassed sigh. “I didn’t even know you played that game and yet my mind was still finding ways to connect everything back to you and your little quirks.”

“I knew I was down bad when I installed that game after hearing you raging about it with the boys,” you blurt out of nowhere.

“You did what, Y/N?”

“I started playing that headache of a game because of you, okay? I wholeheartedly believed I was taking that secret to the grave, but now it stays between you and me. Got it?” Your face feels hot, but you aren’t complaining.

“Yes, ma’am.” His teasing grin will never get old, and you love that about him.

In the heat of another kiss, you feel Jungkook tug on the silky sash at your waist. Your robe opens up like curtains being drawn for a grand reveal. Exposed as you are, there’s no need to hide anymore. In fact, you’d be more than down to have sex out in the open on the couch, but you also have to consider the innocent kitten sleeping next to you.

Like the considerate boy he is, Jungkook scoops you up without disturbing the cat and makes his way to your bedroom.

He lays you down on the bed and eyes your body from head to toe. If he wasn’t giving you horny eyes when you greeted him at the door, he definitely is now.

“Am I gonna get you in trouble for keeping you up past your bedtime?” He saves time by tearing his hoodie and t-shirt off in one go. Based on those abs, you suppose working out is another one of his favorite pastimes alongside sex, gaming, and fucking around with you.

“No.” You reach for his body and pull him on top of you. The large bulge tucked away in his sweatpants catches your attention. “But I might be a little sore for tomorrow.”

“Oh? Is that how you like it?” He rubs two fingers against the thin fabric between your legs to test the waters. Your body shudders and tenses up from the tiniest of touches. Given the dry spell you’ve suffered through this year, you know it won’t take much for you to lose it. “Sure you can handle it?”

“Try me.” You push back with your tongue in his mouth and help him out of his sweats. You’re one swipe away from clawing his boxers off, but he grabs ahold of your wrists and pins you against the pillows.

“Someone’s awfully eager,” he says as he leaves a trail of kisses from your neck to your breasts. You squirm under his hot breath, asking for more contact—anywhere on your body will do.

“Yeah, well, we do have another meeting bright and early tomorrow morning, and it’d look bad if we both fell asleep during it because we were up all night having—” Your rambling is interrupted by the boy’s cock staring you down. He tears open a square packet, but you swipe it away and slide it down his length. You don’t mind a bit of rubber if it gives you an excuse to get your paws on him.

In return, he helps you wiggle out of your teeny tiny thong and bra. His hands waste no time in squeezing your breasts and fingering you down below to make sure you’re wet enough. (Spoiler alert: You most definitely are.)

As big as he is, he slides in with relative ease thanks to how desperately you need him inside you. He fills you in perfectly, too, reaffirming the fact that you and him are perfect for one another. Fuck everyone who thinks otherwise.

You dig your long nails into his arms as he moves in and out of you. If he keeps going harder with every thrust, you’re gonna have a difficult time holding on.

“I swear your nails are like cat claws,” he grunts into your ear but makes no actual effort to extract your nails from his arms.

“If I recall correctly, you did refer to me as a soft kitten who isn’t afraid to bring her claws out,” you hum up at him.

“Hey, let’s not talk about all the sappy things I said in-game right now.” There’s a hint of poutiness in his otherwise raspy bedroom voice. As punishment for teasing him, he flips you over onto your knees to give him the best view of your ass. “You weren’t supposed to hear that stuff.”

“Tell me something I’m supposed to hear,” you challenge him as he gives your ass a good squeeze. His fingers dip back between your legs and circle your clit a few times. You body rubs back on instinct like a horny pup against a toy.

“I would like to formally ask you out,” he says with his hands at your hips and his cock back inside you. "Will you go out with me?"

“You're a little late, buddy, but yes, I’ll go out with you,” you chuckle until your orgasm sneaks up on you and hits you like a truck. The moans you let out are probably loud enough to wake the cat, but that just means the two of you will have to relocate the next time you have sex. Perhaps his place or the office breakroom might be worth considering.

Your arms give out as you tighten around him, so you lower your face to the pillow and let the boy do as he pleases to your body to get his release. After a few more strong thrusts, he gasps your name out in pleasure and pulls out of you. You give him a good ten seconds to catch his breath before you smother him with a million kisses.

You take a glance at the time on your phone. It’s getting awfully late, and you do have that meeting in the morning, but the two of you have a few options:

A) Cuddle in bed and go to sleep like normal 9-5ers.

B) Hop online and play a few games together because your computer’s still on.

C) Go another round and make a special coffee run before the meeting.

None of those options sound like a bad idea when you’ve got Jeon Jungkook to do them with. All he has to do is say the word and you're down.

#bts smut #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagines #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #fuck boy jungkook #gamer jungkook #coworker au #office au #jungkook f2l #bts f2l #friends to lovers #mutual pining #jungkook #bts

4K notes · View notes

captainfern · 10 months

Note

heyyy, how are youu? as I see your request are open so here I am again. I absolutely loved “About A Girl” it was perfect and exactly what I imagined so i’m back for seconds 😋

hear me out 🫵🤠✋ what if after a long mission the team gets a few weeks off, reader goes on a date, Price sees and gets jealous and since reader’s date is a bit of a jackass and gets reader uncomfortable Price intervenes and takes reader. One thing lead to the other 😉😏 and there’s a little of everything, heavy on the degrading praise and breeding kink from Price cuz he’s always wanted to put a baby in reader since he first saw her :((

(as you can tell i’m a big Price enthusiast 😈)

Something In The Way

Captain John Price x fem!reader

["Something In The Way" by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - read the request. price saves you from a bad date, then you fuck lol. • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 4.4k • warnings - fem!reader, possessive!price, unprotected piv, breeding kink [you're welcome], praise, degradation [slut used like once], oral [f!receiving], lowkey dumbification, implied age gap but that isn't a problem for us obviously 🙏, this is basically a hybrid of my fics breed and lithium lol, strong language, an absolute arsehole of a bad date i'm sorry in advance

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

When you get a few weeks away from work, sometimes you don't know what to do with yourself.

Acting like a proper civilian was kind of hard when you'd just spent the last few months eradicating a terrorist threat on the opposite side of the world. But, hey, you weren't complaining that Laswell awarded you with a break.

One of the first things you did was catch up with your friends. You all went out to dinner together, eventually turning towards the bar down the street. Here, you met this guy– he was really nice, and quite good looking as well– and you gave him your number.

A week later, brought you to today.

The guy from the bar, Lucas, had taken you out on a date. You were really excited– your friends hyping you up via FaceTime as you got ready a few hours prior. You took a taxi and met him at this really nice restaurant, where he greeted you at the door with a warm smile, and took your arm, leading you inside.

An hour and a half into the date, you wondered just how drunk you were when you gave this guy your number.

"So, you're in the military?" Lucas asked as the two of you finished up desert.

"I am, yeah." You replied. He'd asked that question twice already, but you were giving him the benefit of the doubt.

He chewed thoughtfully for a moment. "You know, I never thought that women could join the military."

You paused, spoonful of crème brûlée halfway to your mouth. You lowered it. "What?"

"Yeah, I mean, it's such a masculine job when you think about it," Lucas said, swirling his spoon in the air while he talked. "I'm guessing you work with a lot of guys?"

"Yeah? Why should that matter?" You replied, placing your spoon beside your bowl. Your appetite for desert was suddenly gone.

He shrugged. "Just wondering. I bet you're popular on base, huh? I mean, if I worked with you, I'd definitely hit."

You scoffed. "You'd hit? Real mature, Lucas."

"Hey, don't get offended, Jesus," Lucas said defensively. "Surely you see where I'm coming from? It's not like I'm saying you're a fucking barracks bunny or anything like that–"

"Oh my god," you said, getting to your feet and snatching your purse off the table. The waitress arrived with the cheque, but paused when she saw what was unfolding before her. "Thanks for dinner, Lucas, but you just ruined it."

He got to his feet as you breezed past him, offering the waitress an apologetic smile. She returned it, and was quick to thrust the cheque into Lucas' hands, telling him he must pay before he leaves. You hid a grateful smile as you hurried out of the restaurant and into the night.

Outside, you felt yourself burning with rage. Who the hell does that fucker think he is talking like that? Cheeks burning, you pulled out your phone and attempted to dial one of your friends for an emergency pick-up.

"Hey, wait!" Lucas appeared behind you, walking briskly up to you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "What'd I do?"

You shrugged his hand off your shoulder with a scowl. "I don't appreciate being spoken to like that, thank you very much." It was sarcastic and had a blunt bite. Good.

He shook his head, sneering. "Oh, so you're offended? What a surprise, a woman getting emotional over a joke."

You really wanted to slap him. Smack your hand across his stupid fucking face. But, you didn't. You bit your tongue, looking down at your phone and pulling up one of your friends contact.

"I just wanted to fuck you, anyway," Lucas suddenly said, making your eyes snap up to his. "Waste of my time, clearly."

You gaped at him. "Are you fucking serious? You're an absolute arsehole."

He took a step closer to you. "What? Isn't that what you let the guys at your base do? Spreading your legs–"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if you want to leave with your teeth still intact." A deep voice behind you, and you turned to see your captain walking towards you, cigar between his thumb and forefinger.

Lucas scoffed, giving Price a once-over. "What're you gonna do about it, old man? This doesn't concern you."

Price's other hand was in the pocket of his jacket. He moved his arm to the side, bringing his jacket away from his body, revealing a pistol strapped to a holster on his hip. He was quick to hide it beneath his jacket again as he stepped up beside you, arm brushing yours.

Lucas paled, backing away slowly. "Jesus, okay, fine, I'm leaving."

"Hold on," Price grumbled, beckoning Lucas forward with a flick of his cigar. An ember dislodged, sparkling through the air as Lucas took a hesitant step forward. "Delete her number."

Lucas pulled out his phone and quickly deleted your number. He showed it to Price, who simply exhaled a thick cloud of smoke into his face. Lucas coughed, eyes no doubt stinging, as Price leaned forward, speaking right next to his ear. You stood patiently behind him, not sure what he was even saying.

"If you ever talk to her like that again, or if you ever try to even contact her again, I'll fucking kill you. D'you understand?" Price uttered.

Lucas nodded quickly. Then, he yelped, cursing in pain, springing backwards and hurrying away without even looking at you. You saw him clutching his right hand, a circular burn mark branded on top. You cast a glimpse at Price, cigar still held tightly between his fingers. You smiled.

Price watched Lucas disappear before he turned to you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You alright, rookie?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay."

Price scanned your face. "You sure? He was a right cunt, wasn't he?"

You chuckled. "Yeah, he was."

Price took a drag from his cigar. "What's a pretty girl like you going on a date with a fuckwit like him for?"

You shrugged. "I think I was way to drunk when I gave him my number."

Price smiled at you, the air between you hazy with smoke. He looked at your hands, where you were fidgeting with your phone.

"You need a ride home, rookie?" He asked.

You shook your head. "Oh, no, I'm okay. I was just about to call my friend to pick me up. They should be able to come and get me."

Price just shook his head softly, taking another drag from his cigar, now near the end of its life. He dropped the crumbling remnants into the gutter, shifting his foot so he could crush it further into the pavement with the heel of his shoe.

"I'll take you home."

You shook your head. "No, honestly–"

"Come on, rookie," Price was already walking away from you. "Captain's orders."

•º•

In his car, you don't know what came over you. One moment, you were telling him about how the date went and the next, you were sobbing into your hands in his passenger seat.

You apologised profusely once you had calmed down, and he offered words of support from the drivers seat.

"I'm sorry, I just feel so fucking stupid that I let him talk to me like that." You said, tears in your eyes drying.

"You're not stupid, love. It's normal to feel like this."

You sniffed, hugging your arms around yourself. Price glanced at you.

"Why don't you come to mine for a bit? Don't want you being alone when you're feeling like this, rookie. You can have a drink if you want."

Slowly, you nodded. "That would be nice. Thanks, cap."

"John's fine, love."

You made a face. "No way. It feels weird calling you anything other than captain or Price."

Price laughed. "But John's my name!"

"I know," you laughed too. "But, still, it just feels strange. Like when I called Ghost Simon that one time, and Soap went absolutely apeshit at me."

"Alright, fair enough," Price smiled. "You can call me Price, then."

"Thank you." You remarked, and Price shot you a smile. He was glad you were smiling now.

•º•

"Damn, your house is so nice," you said as he let you through the front door, locking it behind you. "What the hell are you getting paid to afford something like this?"

"Not that much more than you, love." Price said, taking off his jacket and hanging it on a hook near the door.

"Bullshit." You laughed, kicking off your heels and following him into the kitchen.

He rounded the kitchen island, opening a top cabinet and extracting two glasses. Then, he gestured to the array of alcohol bottles lines up along a nearby shelf. You selected one that you were familiar with, and he poured you a glass. You thanked him as he slid it across the island to you as you sat down on a barstool. He poured himself a bit of scotch.

"Feeling better?" Price asked, taking a sip of his drink.

You nodded. "Yeah, thanks, Price."

"No worries, love. Couldn't let that piece of shit talk to my rookie like that, eh?" He took a long sip.

My rookie.

Your stomach fluttered with butterflies for a moment as you took a sip of your drink, trying to calm them. He watched you with kind eyes.

"What's going through that mind of yours?" He asked, pushing his glass aside and holding the edge of the kitchen island, leaning against it.

"S'nothing." You grumbled around the rim of your glass.

"Come on, rookie."

You sighed. Embarrassed, almost. Cheeks heating up, you averted your eyes. "Just, I dunno, thankful."

"Don't worry about it," he smiled. "Now... are you sure that's all that's on your mind?"

You should have nodded. Should have told him that, yeah, I'm fine, thank you. But, you gently moved your glass aside, managing to look at him. He cocked his head, waiting for you to speak.

"I just..." You were past the point of embarrassment now. "I'm just really thankful. You didn't have to bring me here. I really appreciate it."

Price watched you closely. He hadn't touched his drink for a while. He wasn't even smiling anymore. He knew.

For fuck sake, you thought, nervousness building in your stomach. Of course he fucking knew. And, to top it all off, the butterflies were back. Great.

"I want to, um, thank you... properly."

"Thank me?" Price uttered. "Rookie..."

You cringed as he got up and began to approach you. This is it, you thought, biting your lip. He was going to fucking berate you for being so inappropriate. I mean, come on– he's your fucking boss for crying out loud! What the hell were you doing?!

"Shit, Price, I am so sorry. This is so inappropriate," you rambled. "I should never have put you in this position–"

He stood behind you now. You were still sat on the barstool, but could feel the warmth of his chest on your back. He leaned down, chest brushing your shoulder blades, lips by your ear.

"Stand up." He whispered.

Here we go, you thought as you gingerly got to your feet. He was going to kick you off the task force.

He nudged the barstool away with his foot and it skidded along the hardwood floor. You jolted at the noise, before his front was pushing into your back and suddenly– really fucking suddenly– he was bending you over the kitchen island.

"You said you want to thank me? This what you had in mind, rookie?" He asked, low in your ear. "Wanted to thank me like this?"

You were speechless. But, you nodded. The butterflies in your stomach were raving now, and you felt your body beginning to heat up as he pressed himself against you: chest and abdomen hard against the curve of your back, his pelvis flush to your arse.

"Yeah? Naughty fucking girl. Wants to get fucked by her captain?" He had a firm grip on your hips, holding you to him. "Naughty fucking girl." He repeated in a growl, shoving your dress up your hips.

It was all happening so fast that half the time you forgot to breath. Your dress was hiked up your legs, bunched around your waist as Price took a step back to admire your backside. He hooked a finger around the waistband of your underwear and let it go with a snap. You jolted, still pressed to the cool marble of the island.

"These are nice," he commented, and you could hear his smile. "Planning on getting fucked, eh?"

You shook your head. "No."

"Fucking liar." He said, grabbing your underwear again. This time, he ripped them down your legs and you felt them drop around your ankles.

You knew you were turned on, but when the cool air of his kitchen hit your bare core, you felt like squealing. Your arousal was dripping down from between your legs, running down your thighs now, much to Price's delight. He ran a finger up your thigh, collecting the fluid, and you shivered.

"Dripping..." he drawled, smearing your arousal across your inner-thighs. "Needy slut you are, rookie, aren't you? Dripping for your captain."

You whined at him as he turned you around, your lower back slamming into the edge of the table. You wondered what the hell he was doing, but that was answered when he kneeled in front of you, taking hold of your thighs and lifting you like you weighed nothing. He propped your thighs over his shoulders as you leaned against the island, arms spread along the marble. You underwear was flung off of your ankle and vanished somewhere in the room.

He blew a puff of air onto your soaked core, and you felt your body begin to burn again at the way he had your body reacting. With a satisfied smirk, he looked up at you, beard brushing the soft skin of your thighs.

"Can I?" He asked. Why was he even asking?!

You nodded desperately, angling your hips forward and shoving your cunt closer to his mouth. He chuckled and allowed you to do so– pressing his lips to your clit and drawing it into his mouth. You tossed your head back with a moan, hand reaching down to push his head further into you.

He pulled back, though, causing you to whine.

"Hands on the fucking counter." He snapped, before drawing your clit into his mouth and sucking harshly.

You choked on a sob and forced your arms away. You felt his teeth skim your nerves and you bucked your hips, just as he moved away and licked a fat stripe down your folds. He did that a couple of times, making you a whiney mess above him, before he shoved his tongue into your leaking hole.

"Mmm-mygod," you mumbled around a whimper as he moved his tongue in and out of you. You could hear him doing it– lewd squelching filling his quiet kitchen, matching the tempo of your whines and whimpers. "Price, feels so good."

Price hummed against you, vibrations making you spasm around his tongue. His hands gripped your thighs, clamping them harder around his head, resting firm on his shoulders. His nose nudged your clit repeatedly as he moved his tongue in and out of your cunt, and it had you seeing stars behind your eyelids.

It didn't take long at all before you were about to cum. Legs quivering against his strong shoulders, hips bucking desperately to meet the movements of his tongue, lower stomach tightening. You moaned loudly. "Price, please."

He didn't change his pace or movements, letting you pulse around his tongue as you came. He groaned into your cunt as your arousal flooded across his tongue, dripping out the sides of his mouth and running down his face. Your legs felt numb by the time he retreated with one last kiss to your swollen clit. You whined.

"Knew it'd taste this fucking good," Price mumbled to himself, but his words made your stomach flip. "Knew this cunt'd be so fucking good."

He carefully lowered you to the ground, your legs shaking. You sighed, bracing yourself against the island as he got to his feet, face dripping. Catching sight of beads of moisture rolling through his facial hair, you closed your eyes and whined, almost ashamed. But he didn't let you– he grabbed your face in one large hand and slammed his mouth onto yours. You could taste yourself, making you mewl, and you could feel your arousal now smearing across your face from his beard.

"Just so wet," He whispered against your mouth, tongue smoothing against yours before he pulled away. "Naughty girl you are, rookie. Letting your captain do that."

You hummed at him in response, a moan trapped in your throat. He shushed you, making quick work of pulling your dress over your head and discarding it on a nearby barstool. He then unclasped your bra, immediately drawing one of your nipples into his mouth with a nip of his teeth. You keened into him with a whisper of his name as he switched to the other, skimming his hands across them, massaging the soft flesh.

It ended all too soon, unfortunately, as a moment later he was spinning you around and bending you over the kitchen island. He was still dressed, but you heard the unbuckling of a belt and the sound of a zipper. After a moment, he placed his belt on the island in front of you, and you saw his pistol sitting in his holster. You whimpered when you looked at it.

Price chuckled darkly behind you, one hand on your hip as the other shimmied his pants down. "You liked when I threatened that fuckhead, didn't you, love? S'that what got this slutty cunt all wet?"

You nodded, skin hot.

Price tutted you softly. "Naughty, naughty girl, rookie."

"Only for you." You whimpered, and Price paused his movements behind you.

Then, he groaned, and you felt his warm cock press against the curve of your arse as he bent his body over you, draping his toned abdomen against your spine.

"Yeah, that's fucking right," he growled into your shoulder, pressing a kiss there. "S'only for me."

That definitely awakened something inside of him.

Leaning back, he grabbed hold of his painfully hard cock and began to drag the ruddy tip along your glistening folds. You moaned into your arm, resting them beneath your head. He grunted under his breath, snagging the head of his cock against your entrance, a schlick sounding through the kitchen.

"Fuck, listen to this pretty cunt talk," Price groaned, repeating the action with his cock and earning the same wet sound. "S'just begging to be stuffed full. Begging to be fucked."

You were burning up beneath him. You wiggled your hips, pressing your arse further onto him, and he gripped your hip tighter.

"Be patient." Price warned, drumming his fingers on the bone of your hip.

You didn't listen.

You whined, backing your arse against him. "Price, sir, I need it."

"You need it? Aw, my poor girl. My poor, needy girl, so desperate for cock," Price mused, running his cock along your folds again. "What do you say?"

"Please–"

"Please, what?"

"Please, sir, fuck, need you so bad." You sobbed.

"That's what I thought," Price uttered, pushing the fat head of his cock into your drooling cunt, stretching you out. "Needed this cock so bad, I know. S'all right, love."

He pushed deeper and deeper into you; your silken walls clinging to him, constricting his cock and making him sigh deeply into the skin of your back. Eventually, he was nestled as far as he could go with his hips flush to your arse and the head of his cock kissing the entrance of your cervix. You mewled quietly as he placed a few wet kisses along the column of your spine, hands massaging your hips.

"There we go, love, taking me so well." He whispered as he pulled out of you, tip resting at your entrance.

You were about to complain at the sudden emptiness, but he was thrusting all the way back in before you could get the words out. You choked on your sentence, gasping, as he slammed into you and began a pace that left you slumping against the kitchen island like a rag-doll, whimpering.

"I know, I know, just feels so good, doesn't it, darling?" Price cooed in response to your desperate whimpers. "Your captain's cock feels so good in this pretty cunt, doesn't it?"

Deliriously, you nodded. "Y-yeah, feels s-so good, sir."

He grunted in reply, slamming into you over and over and relishing in the way your walls sucked him in. He wanted to mould you to the shape of his cock. Ruin you for any other man. He wanted you to want his cock, and his alone. He wanted you.

He moaned deeply. "This cunt was made for me, love. Perfect, squeezing my cock so good. S'mine now, love. All mine."

You couldn't argue with that.

You'd never have thought that your captain could act like this. Animalistic in the way he rutted into your dripping heat, heavy cock dragging against your walls, head kissing the entrance of your womb. His hands were tight on the curve of your hips, groping and kneading the flesh as he pulled you onto his cock repeatedly, matching the gruelling pace of his thrusts.

He'd rendered you a babbling, whimpering mess– whining softly, calling his name, drunk off his cock. You let your mouth drop open, a languid string of moans falling from between your lips.

"Sir, m'gonna cum." You managed to say between airy moans, and he huffed in response, skimming his teeth down your spine.

"Cum for me, darling. Cum 'round my cock."

You did, with a loud moan that his neighbours may or may not have heard through the silence of the night. You spasmed around his cock, arousal flooding out of you and painting his lower abdomen and thighs in slick. You tightened around him and he groaned, sucking marks down the expanse of your arched back.

He redoubled his pace as you became pliant beneath him. You let him use you– fucking into your soaked cunt like he was starving for it. He was grunting and groaning under his breath, mouth still sucking bruises along your back, before he dragged his lips up your spine and rested his head at your shoulder.

His thrusts were losing rhythm as he neared his release. The movement of his hips was yearning– his need to cum stringing him rigid as he pounded into your tight cunt.

He was losing his absolute mind.

"Fuck, such a good cunt, so tight n' wet," he groaned into your shoulder. "Better than I imagined. So much better."

The needy rutting of his hips and the depth in which his cock reached inside of you was quickly pushing you towards another orgasm. It built fiery hot in your abdomen as he babbled into your shoulder, losing control of the dominant persona he had began with.

"Huh-hngh-fuck, yeah, that's it, darling, that's it, taking my cock so fucking well," his words were stringing together. "M'gonna cum inside, okay? Wanna fuck you full of me."

You arched further for him, taking him deeper. "Please, sir, cum inside–"

Your orgasm crashed over you and you whimpered his name, body shuddering, wetness dribbling down your legs. Price cursed quietly as you gushed around his cock again.

"Always wanted to fill this cunt. Wanted to– ah, fuck– wanted to breed you nice and full, rookie. Make it– hngh– take. Make you all pretty and fat with my kid–"

That made your cunt squeeze him extra tight, a new wave of arousal pooling between your thighs. In response, he groaned low into the crook of your neck and thrust his hips so hard you felt winded against the marble. The head of his cock nudged the plug of your womb as he came, a lot. Endless strings of warmth, filling you, overflowing onto the hardwood floor. He whined your name into your neck, sucking one last lazy bruise to the smooth skin.

"Good girl," he whispered, angling his head to kiss the juncture of your jaw. "My good girl."

•º•

"Morning, rookie, how was your break?" Soap asked as you walked into the barracks three weeks later.

You shrugged. "Not bad, actually. How about you?"

"It was good," he smiled. "Ghost n' I went up to Inverness. Beautiful part of the country, that is."

You smiled back at him. "That's really cool! Have you got any photos?"

He beamed as you dumped your bag onto the couch and slumped down next to it. Soap took a seat beside you, taking his phone out of his pocket. He opened his camera roll just as Price strolled into the room, hat on his head.

"Morning, Soap. Keeping well?" He asked, approaching the back of the couch and ruffling Soap's mohawk. "Need a bloody haircut."

Soap battered his captain's hand away, smiling. Then, Price was looming over you.

"Rookie." He said simply.

"Captain." You replied.

"Good break?" He asked.

Visions of the entire three weeks flashed through your mind– you and Price in his kitchen, his living-room, his bedroom, his bathroom, his pool, his fucking car. You were hardly ever home during those three weeks.

"It was a great break," you battered your eyelashes at him. "You?"

He pat your head gently, walking away. "The best break I've had in a while."

When he left, you followed his figure with your eyes. After a moment, you turned back to Soap, who was giving you a peculiar look.

You furrowed your brows. "What?"

"That was weird."

"What? No it wasn't"

"Mhm," he wiggled his eyebrows. "You have something to share, rookie?"

You rolled your eyes. "Not particularly."

"Oh, come on, lass."

"Nothing to share," you shrugged. "Unless you want to share the great time you had with Ghost in Inverness?"

You gave him a pointed look. He looked away, cheeks pink.

"Fuck off."

"Love you too, Soap."

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•

#captainfern #captainfernsalutes #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #captain john price #captain price #captain price smut #fem reader #price x reader #captain john price x female reader #captain’snirvana

1K notes · View notes

mellowswriting · 1 year

Text

did you miss me?

pairing || Din Djarin x f!reader

word count || 4.2k

summary || Din proves just how much he missed you while he was away.

content || pure poetic smut, rough but loving sex? is that a thing?, blowjobs, deepthroating, face fucking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms Din is pussy whipped and painfully in love, thorough aftercare, dorks in love

a/n || not me coming back from my mini hiatus with pure smut 🤠 no one is surprised, right?

It’s been too long since Din has felt your lips against his skin. By too long, he means just a little over a week. Call him dramatic but he’s certain it’s a miracle he survived without you at all. He wasn’t meant to be gone for so long. He’s far too used to waking up and falling asleep next to you, teasingly smacking your ass as you walk by, dragging you close and fucking you against whatever surface is available. Din can feel your absence tugging at his skin, pulling him taut and tense. He’s grown… attached. More attached than he imagined himself capable of, in fact.

So when Fett came to him for help, Din was less than enthusiastic to leave the little world of calm you created together. It took a bit more cajoling than usual. It will take two days at most. We can compensate you. Then you can take your pretty little lover out somewhere nice. Din rolled his eyes at the light teasing from his fellow Mandalorian, but he couldn’t deny the prospect sounded like… fun. Something he hadn’t sought out in a very long time. So Din looped you in on the plan, fucked you nice and thorough, and very begrudgingly left you in his bed to help his friend.

Two days quickly became a week. He really should have known that this would happen but Din is a man of his word. He stays and fights by his friends’ sides, and undeniably wins the entire ordeal for them. The celebration afterward would have been tempting if he didn’t know exactly what was waiting for him back home. Fett didn’t even bother trying to convince him to hang around; he just tossed Din a bag of credits and a knowing grin, which Din pointedly ignored. He took a quick shower before he headed off, all too aware that he wouldn’t be wasting a second once he has you in his arms again.

Din sees you before you see him. He half expects you to startle when he wraps his arms around you from behind - an elbow to the ribs, a kick to his shin, something. But you just lean back into his chest with a surprised but happy sound, the blaster you were stripping abandoned on the counter. Your hands rub down his forearms until you reach his hands and deftly tug his gloves off, carefully setting them aside before lacing your fingers with his. Ease trickles down his spine as he takes in the feeling of your skin against his. Din never realized just how much he needed this. He’s so starved for affection that he feels like he just might die without yours. It doesn’t help that you’re just so… you. Soft against his scarred hands, firm against his stubbornness, so understanding of his inexperience.

“Did you miss me?” There’s a thread of humor in your tone that sends a flare of want burning through his body. He wants to sink his teeth into your shoulder, a small punishment for your teasing, but his hands are too busy to reach up and take off his helmet.

“Of course,” He says instead, the modulator in his helmet doing nothing to hide the raspiness of his voice.

You turn in his arms and Din is graced with your beautiful smile. A thread of concern laces through him as he takes in the tension that lingers in your body and the exhaustion-induced darkness under your eyes. You never sleep well without him. It must have been a late morning for you; you’re still wearing the tiny shorts and old shirt you love to sleep in. He catches a glimpse of the peak of your nipples through the thin material of your shirt just before your chest presses against his beskar. “Yeah? How much?”

“Help me out of my armor and I’ll show you.” That’s all it takes to encourage you to lift his helmet off.

Din drags you in for a blinding kiss the moment the helmet is out of his way. It’s a far cry from the first time he pressed his lips to yours. There is a confidence that surges through him - it ignites his need for you into something palpable and ferocious. Unrelenting. He digs his fingers into your thighs as he hauls you up into his arms and blindly stumbles his way into the small bedroom. Your bright laughter fills the air as he drops you on the bed and for a fleeting moment, genuine fondness soars over his lust, mixing into one devastating need. The two of you eagerly strip away each other’s layers, armor and clothes falling into a pile on the floor.

“Come on, get the fuck - get off.” You grumble under your breath as you finally unclasp his pants enough to strip him out of them. Din’s chuckle dies in his throat at the feeling of your fingers around his aching cock. Fuck, it feels so good it almost hurts - but that doesn’t stop him from greedily chasing more. His hand wraps around yours and guides it along his length in long, tight strokes, and the intensity of finally feeling your touch has his eyes fluttering closed. You huff a quiet laugh at his antics but don’t hesitate to give him even more - little kisses peppered along his belly and gentle caresses to his sensitive inner thighs. He’s so lost in the weight of your worship that he doesn’t even notice when you slip to your knees in front of him.

Din jerks in surprise at the warm, wet slide of your tongue along the head of his cock. A guttural sound rips through his chest as his fiery gaze meets yours, his jaw slack, lips parted as the heat of your mouth slowly envelopes him. His hand falls away as you work him further, instead coming to rest on the crown of your head. He doesn’t pull your hair or try to push; he just rests his hand there, gently caressing your hair as you roll your tongue in practiced swirls. Every inch you take further sends him reeling, pulls out those desperate little sounds he knows you love. Pride swells in his chest as your nose brushes the short, curly hair at the base of his cock. It isn’t easy; Din isn’t exactly a small man, in any sense of the word, but you still work him until your jaw aches and drool drips down your chin.

“Fuck… you’re so good,” Din’s voice is gruffer than usual, all deep and gravelly, and it does something to you. He watches with rapt attention as you go all soft and pliant for him, a muffled whine vibrating against his cock. His hips jerk unbiddenly at the feeling and an apology is poised to fall from his lips - but you just whine again. “Oh, is that what you want? You want me to fuck your pretty little face?”

You nod as best you can and Din has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself in check. It ignites something almost animalistic in him when these moments align so perfectly; his need to be in control rises to meet your need to be taken, and the two of you become one. Din’s wide palm settles at the back of your head to steady you against the slow, steady pace of his thrusts. His free hand grabs one of yours and laces your fingers together, and the familiar unspoken agreement passes between you.

Squeeze my hand if you want me to stop.

The muscle in his jaw jumps at the sight you make. Unshed tears shine in your eyes as you gaze up at him, your lips stretched around the thickness of his cock. His fingers drift across your cheekbone and the steady pace he’s built falters as you instinctually lean into the familiar touch. Din’s heartbeat stutters. It's so simple, the absolute trust you show him. Even as your throat flutters around the almost too-big stretch of his cock, your eyes glimmer with so much love that Din nearly drowns in the overwhelming wave of intimacy. His stomach tightens, his stamina dashed in the wake of your beauty. It's enough to force him to pull you away. He can’t finish now, not like this. Not until he has you laid out beneath him, trembling and sweat-slick under his nimble fingers. He has been fantasizing about it for days, the idea taking the front stage of his mind and consuming all of his attention.

“Fuck, wait…” Din grits out through clenched teeth. His blunt fingernails dig into the thick muscle of his thigh as he tries to drag himself away from that edge. You just smile up at him, all too aware of the effect you have on him, and Din can’t help himself. He guides you up with a hand on the back of your neck and kisses you fiercely, completely unbothered by the taste of himself lingering on your tongue. He grumbles against your lips, “You’re too good at that.”

You don’t have long to preen under his praise. Din has the body of a hard-working man; he’s thick, all well-built muscle and startlingly fast reflexes as if he was handcrafted by the highest divinity. He’s powerful. And he has no issue in using that power to manhandle you onto the bed. Din kneels on the bed and uses his broad stature to his advantage, your thighs forced to part as he braces them against his own. The opportunities feel endless with you lying so close, so exposed beneath him. Din aches to worship every inch of your body. He wants to tease you with his tongue and fingers until you beg him, until his name falls from your lips, all sugared and desperate and ethereal.

Din hums a pleased sound as he finally lets his touch gravitate between your thighs. You’re so warm, so slick. “I haven't even touched you and you're so wet…”

“Yeah, well,” You chuckle breathily. “I missed you, too.”

That whispered confession makes his heart lurch. He has to sink his teeth into the delicate, already sore flesh inside his cheek to rein in the instinct that rears its head; that old animalistic instinct that screams at him to bend you over and fuck you, raw and unrelenting until he has his fill. He knows he’ll give in to it soon, but first… first he needs to show you the devotion you deserve. A shudder wracks through your body at the insistent exploration of his fingertips as they delve deeper into your pussy, teasing at your entrance before sliding up to brush against your clit. He’s entranced by the petal-soft feeling of your skin; so soft, so warm. He could stay like this for hours.

But then your breathing goes unsteady and you grind against his hand in a feeble attempt for more. “Please, Din.”

The fragile hold on his self control snaps.

Two fingers sink into your pussy and Din moans at the feeling of your wet heat tightening, trying to draw him even deeper as if he isn’t already buried knuckle deep. His other hand braces against the pillowy flesh of your inner thigh to keep your legs spread wide. He isn’t letting you hide from him, not tonight. Those two fingers curl up, driven by muscle memory and an overwhelming need to make you see stars, and he’s rewarded with your cries of pleasure. His fingers are thick and calloused from years of hard work, and he knows just how to use them to make you scream.

Din works your pussy in eager strokes, easing his fingers out of you only to introduce a third on his way back in. He watches with bated breath as you devolve into a whimpering, writhing mess. The sheets are your only anchor against the onslaught of pleasure. Your fingers twist the expensive fabric so tight that your nails threaten to tear right through it, but you can’t help it - not when his thumb is rubbing precise circles over your clit until you see stars. Your hips roll and a strangled whimper falls from your lips, and Din can feel it. He can feel the intensity that radiates from you the closer he draws you to a devastating orgasm.

You’re just so easy for him to read. Every hitch in your breath, every jerk of your hips, every rhythmic pulse of your walls. The siren song of your body is impossible to resist. You whisper his name, lovesick and aching, and Din knows you’re close. Some small, cruel part of him wants to leave you right there on the precipice with euphoria hanging just outside of your reach. The bigger part of him, though? It won’t rest until you break for him.

“Let go,” Din rasps, leaning closer to kiss your thigh. The roughness of his stubble makes you jerk in surprise. He can’t take his eyes off of your face, too enraptured by the sight of you falling apart just from his touch. “Fuck, you look… you’re so beautiful, cyare.”

The praise sends you trembling. You manage to meet his eyes for a mere second before you throw your head back into the plush pillows, a broken cry choking through the clench of your teeth as you rock your hips down into his touch. Din lets you take and take without hesitation until you finally shatter. The violent arch of your spine forces Din upright to give you the space you need, his hand still working you through your orgasm in steadily slowing strokes.

“Fuck, that - you… so good, you did so good for me.” Din trips over his words in his haste to praise you but it still affects you all the same. You give him that love-drunk smile as he presses closer to hover over you, his broad form caging you in against the bed. He knows you’re still lost in the bliss of it all but he just can’t help himself from dragging his lips along your jaw and neck, leaving sloppy kisses and teasing bites in his wake. It has been days since he had the chance to properly shave and the rough feeling of his stubble against your skin makes you squirm and laugh brightly. “You have no idea how - fuck…”

He can’t even find the words to tell you just how much he needed this, how much he needed you, but he doesn’t need them. You whisper ‘I know,” before kissing him, your tongue teasing his soft lower lip, and Din whines. A sound of pure need and adoration. He crowds closer to deepen the kiss and he can’t help the small canting of his hips as his neglected cock nudges your thigh. It isn’t easy to ignore the ache that has been building but he wants to give you time to really come down and recover - he is an excellent lover, after all. But he isn’t the only one who has been impatiently awaiting this moment.

The shock of your fingers wrapping around his cock has Din breaking the kiss with a rough gasp, those dark brown eyes widening as they lock with yours. He can see his own lust mirrored in them as you guide him closer and line him up, too impatient to wait for him to move of his own volition. You’re breathtaking in your need for him. It never fails to stroke his ego, to make him feel like the most desirable man in the world. An unspoken question passes between you, one you answer with your thighs wrapping around his waist, and Din’s willpower to ignore his urges vanishes.

Din sinks into your wet heat, doesn’t stop until he’s buried to the hilt and the head of his cock nudges your cervix. He usually pauses there, just to give you time to adjust to the obscene stretch, but the animal instinct that burns between you is too much to ignore. His blunt nails bite into the soft flesh of your hips as he pins you beneath him, keeping you still and unable to escape the sharp, fast shove of his hips - as if you would dream of trying. The entire bed shudders and jerks under the weight of Din’s strength.

It doesn’t take long for Din’s large hand to find its way to your throat, his forefinger and thumb digging into the hinges of your jaw. He doesn’t restrict your breathing; Din just wants to keep your eyes on him as he fucks you brainless. Your lips part with a small gasp and an awed, pleasure-struck smile blooms across your face, and warmth unfurls through Din’s body at the sight you make. So beautiful, so intoxicated by his touch. He can’t deny you when your chin tilts, your wordless request for a kiss met by a soft brush of his lips. Such a soft, gentle thing should seem out of place in the deliciously harsh treatment of your body, but it doesn’t. It feels so right that his chest aches with it.

Din’s nose brushes yours as he hitches your hips higher and suddenly your back arches, his name cried out right against his lips. He drinks in the sounds of your ecstasy, the very nectar of the gods he needs to go on. The slight shift in angle only deepens as he damn near presses your body in half, your knees pressed back into your chest. The sharp shift makes you feel even tighter, especially as your pussy throbs deliciously around his cock. You whimper a broken sound because you know just how fucked you are. The position isn’t easy for either of you to hold but it just hurts so damn good, a perfect pinch of pain against endless waves of pleasure that makes you gush around him. Din doesn’t fuck you like this until the very end, when you’re both eager for release and clawing for that last little bit to throw you over the edge.

The earnest press of his thumb against your clit sends you reeling, the sensitivity almost too much to handle, but you both know he won’t rest until he hears you scream his name again. It’s sharp and electric, and Din knows just how to play your body until you break. Your hips jerk away on instinct before surging forward once more, driven by greed and pure, unadulterated pleasure. A whisper of ‘just like that’ is all the encouragement he needs to work through the burn in his thighs and keep his sharp pace, his violent thrusts shoving you further up the bed. It’s so fucking worth it just to feel your pussy tighten around him so hard you nearly force his cock out. Your thighs tremble and your hand flies up to press against his chest as you choke out a vague warning, your words nearly unintelligible as the surge of your orgasm gushes from you to wet his thighs and belly.

The feeling makes his rough pace stutter in shock and Din growls your name, fascination and lust burning hot in his tone as realization washes over him. It’s the only thought playing on a loop in his mind - he made you fucking squirt. He’s always wanted to see it, to feel the wetness of your cum on his skin. Delight and pride sing in his veins as he falls into a sloppy pace of short, rough strokes. Your slick drips along his thighs in little rivulets down to soak into the sheets and Din finally breaks. He doesn’t pull out - some filthy part of him wants to see his cum mixed with yours, dripping from your fucked out hole just so he can shove it back in with his fingers. He wants you marked as his, just as you have marked him as yours.

“Was that…” Din asks, his dry throat making his voice even rougher. “Did I really make you…”

“You did,” You answer his half-finished question with a breathy chuckle - as if you haven’t just rocked his entire fucking world.

You welcome the heavy weight of his body sinking into yours. Even with the ache in your thighs and back from his rough manipulation of your body, you let your legs shift back down to his waist and stroke the soft curls at the back of his head. Din kisses the valley between your breasts, a small offering of appreciation as he buries his face in your chest. The exhaustion of the last days - hell, of the last hours - vies to take over. Din lies in the embrace of your arms and your cunt, your overstimulated walls pulsing around his softening cock, and he finally feels at peace. At home, safe in the bed you share. But the urge to care for you is much stronger than the urge for sleep.

Din carefully untangles your body from his. Your disgruntled little groan is shushed with promises of a quick return and a fleeting kiss to your forehead. He has his own little ritual for those moments after he’s fucked you senseless. Water, a soft robe, maybe a snack or two, and a small cloth soaked in warm water. He catches a glimpse of the little smile on his face in the bathroom mirror as he wrings the excess water into the sink. It all feels so… right. For once, he isn’t searching for somewhere, for someone. He feels lucky. Din takes his armful of goods and that little smile of his back to you - and he nearly drops it all at the sight of you.

You are glowing in the aftermath. A light sheen of sweat illuminates your body in the low light, shows off the curves of your body as you lie prone in the expensive sheets he bought just for you. The crook of your elbow hides your face from view, but he already knows the blissful expression that is tucked away there. It is seared into his memory, one of his most beloved memories. Every ounce of tension has left your being; you’re loose and relaxed without a care in the universe. Elegant and beautiful with the evidence of his presence drying on your thighs, darkening the curve of your hips in the shape of his fingers. You are a goddess in your own right and Din knows he will spend every moment of his life worshiping at the altar of your body. He revels in that knowledge, takes the utmost peace in it.

Life may be chaotic and uncertain, but this… this is eternal.

In these quiet moments, he knows you crave his touch more than anything. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, skin on skin as he eases you through the submissive haze. Din settles close to you, propped up on his elbow, and sets about taking care of his lover. You wince just slightly as he passes the cloth along your sore cunt. Murmured apologies are met with dismissive hums. No words need to be said for your message to get across. I loved it. Don’t apologize for giving me what I want. Still, he pays close attention to the marks he left on your body. The soft floral scent of your favorite lotion lingers in the air long after he’s finished using it to ease the knots in your muscles.

Din loves taking his time with his aftercare. Once he has you cleaned up and rehydrated, he snuggles in close and lets his hands wander. His fingers trace nonsensical patterns into your plush thighs, over your belly, and up your sides. You shiver as his fingertips trail over your ribs and shoot him a warning look that he knows all too well. His sweet little woman, so sensitive to his touch. He does know better than to tickle you, so he instead slips his fingers beneath your jaw and tilts you up into a soft kiss. While he has you enraptured by his lips, his hand falls to your chest, cupping your breast in his large hand and groping you shamelessly. It's so silly that you pull away with a playfully incredulous laugh and Din can’t help but smile, one eyebrow raised as he takes in how beautiful you look.

“I really did miss you, you know.” You say as you reach up to brush his hair away from his forehead. Din sighs and captures your hand in his, drawing it up to his lips to kiss each of your fingertips, your knuckles, even your palm.

“I love you.” The words fall from his lips without thought. It startles him, his own candor. The vulnerability of it. But just as anxiety begins to crest, it’s burned away by the bright grin that blooms across your face.

You tug him closer, your lips brushing his as you whisper, “I love you, too.”, like a little secret, just for the two of you - and you kiss him. You keep kissing him, pulling him down until his body is pressed fully against yours. Din doesn’t know how long the two of you lay there, languidly kissing and whispering little confessions of love, but he knows he would stay there forever.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #mando x reader #din djarin x reader smut #mando x you #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut

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marlenesluv · 7 months

Note

heyy i was wondering if u could write a max, daniel, or carlos x super southern (like from the DEEP south/not texas) dallas cowboys cheerleader (kleine powell fc plz shes so gorg) smau and everyone is surprised that theyre together. or alternatively same premise but with an lsu tiger girl (fc darah haidet) and shes a lot younger. us southern girls get no rep lmao and ily

Unexpected. (DR)

hi! thank you sm for the request. i absolutely love this sm!! i went with daniel for this one, he’s too cute. i genuinely never see any southern girl stuff, so i hope you love this! and ily too!!also, y/n is a dcc, but she’s from louisiana. i never mention a state tho so you can imagine a diff one!!

pairing: daniel ricciardo x dcc!reader

fc: kleine powell

warnings: none!

note: i went ahead and made this not a soft launch (im limited with photos lol) also age gap is 8 yrs in this one!

masterlist here -> masterlist link

^ check my list for all posts! ^

liked by: y/n.user, pierregasly, and 1,872,055 others

tagged: y/n.user

danielricciardo: hiked a bit, and picked up this pretty lady along the way

view comments…

landonorris: you have a girlfriend? i never thought i’d see the day

|> danielricciardo: you’re talking??

y/n.fp: is that our girl?? our cowgirl is dating a man that makes cars go vroom!?!?

|> f1.fp: when worlds collide

y/n.user: wouldnt have wanted to hike those 12 miles with anyone else :)

|> danielricciardo: :)))

dcc.fans: does this mean daniel is gonna come to games?

charles_leclerc: is she converting you full cowboy?

|> y/n.user: of course i am🙃🤠

yourbsf: awwww, you guys are so cute. pls let me meet him

|> y/n.user: soon, honey🫣

_______________________________________________

liked by: danielricciardo, francisca.cgomes, and 862,274 others

tagged: danielricciardo

y/n.user: who’s going to tell him that these are not the dcc colors….💙🤍

view comments…

fanpage.dcc: UNEXPECTED RELATIONSHIP

|> y/n.fanpage: LOVE IT THO??

danielricciardo: sugar, it’s texas’ colors…..

|> y/n.user: i’m not from texas daniel, we’ve been over this😐

|> danielricciardo: let me grab my blue and white before the game

|> y/n.user: thank you, hun☺️

pierregasly: have fun with his annoying ass

|> danielricciardo: HEY. she loves my ass, thank you very much

|> y/n.user: 😇

formula1fp: this was not on my bingo card for this year. i’m not mad about it tho

_______________________________________________

twitter:

Formula 1 Wag News @formulaonewags • 2d

New Wag: Y/N Y/L/N has been posted by Daniel Ricciardo recently, saying that he “picked up this pretty lady” referring to Y/N. She is a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader, at 26 years old. They have yet to officially announce their relationship, but with both posting, daniel going to games, and not denying their friends, we have strong reasons to believe they are dating.

DCC Updates @dccupdates • 2d

We think thet have been seeing each other or talking for a while. Y/N has stayed away from guys at parties (via her friends posts) and Daniel has been posting a lot at home. Maybe this has been going on for a while?

_______________________________________________

liked by: y/n.user, carlossainz55, and 2,109,240 others

tagged: y/n.user

danielricciardo: first date, kinda nervous. do you guys think she likes me? 🙁

view comments…

y/n.user: i do i do i do🫠🫶

|> danielricciardo: i like you too🤭🫶

dallascc.updates: pls pls this is way too cute but i’m shook

|> f1updatepage: aren’t we all?

georgerussell63: theres no way you’re dating a dcc-

|> carmenmmundt: they’re so cute!!

|> georgerussell63: yeah, but how?

|> danielricciardo: im very charming

yourbsf: actually adorable asf. i’m soso glad you’re both so happy together :’)

|> y/n.user: thank you, babes🙁🫶

maxverstappen1: i hope you guys had a good date!

|> danielricciardo: we did ☺️

_______________________________________________

liked by: y/n.user, oscarpiastri, and 1,982,140 others

danielricciardo: another hike, another race sunday

view comments…

y/n.user: you’re gonna do so amazing ☺️

|> danielricciardo: wear my cowboy hat?

|> y/n.user: i’ll be there with the hat and boots on 🤠

|> danielricciardo: 😊

f1.wag: new y/n content? yes plsssss

carlossainz55: i’m still confused on how you got a girlfriend

|> maxverstappen1: we’re all confused

dcc.posts: our favorite hikers 🥾

y/nfanpage: i livveeee for them

_______________________________________________

liked by: landonorris, danielricciardo, and 1,027,174 others

tagged: danielricciardo, landonorris

y/n.user: p2 for daniel = proudest gf today. although i would be proud no matter what. thank you for being such a sweet, funny, supportive, and entertaining bf. i am not thanking you for bringing lando on the same plane, jk

view comments…

landonorris: those tension headache pills didn’t help?

|> y/n.user: nope

|> landonorris: oops 🫣

f1.updates: trio we needed

danielricciardo: my favorite cowgirl❤️

|> y/n.user: my favorite cowboy❤️

|> wagsof.f1: i’m actually so lonely i’m sobbing

formula1.page: you😭 guys😭 are😭 adorable😭

lilymhe: cutestttt

|> y/n.user: you’re too sweet💓

|> lilymhe: 💓💓

y/n.fp: i am never getting over this relationship. f1!driver and southern cheerleader? k. my life is complete

yourbsf: MY PARENTS

|> danielricciardo: oh dearie

|> y/n.user: 😳

_______________________________________________

(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)

#f1 #formula 1 #formula one #daniel ricciardo x female reader #daniel ricciardo fluff #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo x ofc #southern fic

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rzyraffek · 1 year

Text

Slashers with y/n that just gets along with everything

Like slasher could litteraly kill somone near y/n and she would be like alr alr whats really important is that you are happy🤠😎. Im sorry that first 2character had super long headcanons while last ones have way less :( I had no ideas Request open!

Billy Lenz

He always expects some sort of negative response when he calls people and when he heard new voice on the Phone he got even more exited cuz new person new reaction! He totally didnt expect her to just go "yeah yeah sure buddy, anyways... how is your day man? Cuz im so so tired...*starts normal converstation*

He probably tries to stay in character but he is so caught of Guard he doesnt know how to react really (hehe the table has turn)

Now he kinda hopes that she will pick up cuz shes very intresting😈 billy likey

"Ew its this creep again! He is asking for you y/n? Of please dont tell me you befriended him??" "So what? He said hes favourite fruit is strawberry he cant be that bad!" *billy saying slurs on the phone*

You need to constantly tell him that, no Billy no harrasing women isnt sexy, you arent quirky, you are mentally ill

"Y/n i killed that bitch that was gossiping about you 🧍 " "👍good for you billy im glad you found healthy way to cope with that negative emotion😇" "on god"

His whole moral compass is created around the simple question 'does it hurt y/n?' .1:no it doesnt so feel free to do it .2 do not do it, she will ban Billy from sweets (bad ending)

The man from hush

This guy. This dude. This Little gremlin. He is upset that he gets no reaction! Like please oh please act all angy when he 'acidently' shot tire in her car! But oh no ofc no, she had to be like "oh its okay honey i have backup in garage🥰" hes like HHUH SINCE WHEN WE HAVE GARAGE

Like tbh thats how i imagine how they met: he saw her, he wanted to hunt her, she was so chill that she didnt even leave her household while the power was off and he went inside and just saw her having lil nap on couch. 🧍🤨erm exuse me gurl im trying to roleplay epic hunter here tf

He probably kidnaped her cuz she was too weird to just kill her but he didnt want to risk her calling police. He probably tied her up and yeeted her on backseats. And then she begun judging music on the radio"yo big guy can i get some good music taste?" "What? Whats wrong with Taylor Swift?"

He will overshare everything to kinda check where is her limit if it comes to being chill "yeah so i killed this old lady.." "im sure you had good reason🥰" "🤨... anyways... yeah so i was drinking some redbull when some guy said i look ugly so i shoot his head off and-" "HEY HEY hold up geez you CANT drink Energy drinks?? Bestie you know it is unhealthy?? Also you like hunt for sport it will ruin your condition!? How you gonna shoot people with shakey hands?? You crazy or something?" "Damn😔"

Micheal myers

I tried to put him here but i realised he will be as chill as her.

Like he can give her gifts covered in blood and she' just going to clean it and wear it like nothing happened or completley ignore it

He cares about this stuff as much as y/n so like not at all. I mean tbh theres is a bit of difrence: shes at least positive about it! Like "yeah micheal go for it, love🥰😇 i know its hard to cope with trauma take it all out alr?" Shes trying to be a good supporting gf not her fault she never had serial killer bf!

Brahms Heelshire

He lives for attention! What do you mean the war crime he commited this lunch break is okay!?!? Baby pleasee

But this negativity disapears the moment he realised he can get a lot of positive attention when he will do some nice stuff! "Oh honey I didnt kill any rats today" "oh that's amazing brahms I'm sure you and the rats inside walls will get along well soon🥰" (rats in walls bully brahms)

Please complement him or he will get a tantrum and destroy something

Brahms and rats have very hard past i might do seperate hc about that

Ghostface

"Look babe! My newest victim *shows photo*" "ugh baby...😰 you NEED to buy new camera or watch some youtube tutorials about how to take good photos" "aw man whats wrong with my pictures 😔"

Otherwise y/n supports his hobbies! People need to grow😇 (and he needs to grow up)

If theres 2ghostfaces(like in most movies) they will bet money on how long you gonna keep this 'do whatever as long as youre happy' act. Well they didnt know that this wasnt an act but her personality

Also they will probably try to use this chillnes aginst her like "oooh y/n something terrible happened! I crushed my car oh what will i do!" "Alr bestie i will drive you over there😇" "😈omg you are so nice i totally didnt expect that(heheh i dont need to pay for gas today (hes very evil))

#slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #brahms heelsire #brahms x reader #micheal myers #micheal myers x reader #ghostface x reader #ghostface #hush headcanon #hush 2016 #hush x reader #the man x reader

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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months

Note

🤠 🫶 :

Oh my god….

And Kortac’s enemies don’t understand where The Terror™ went, what could possibly have taken down a monster like that…König’s been even more menacing and violent and awful for several months now, taking every mission possible like he’s determined to destroy and kill everything he can, and there’s rumors he’s started literally ripping his opponents in half on the battlefield, and now he’s just...gone? So oh god, is there something worse out there??? Who is this who got to THAT behemoth of all people?? The rumors! The suspense! The horror!

Quick camera pan to reader, just singing to herself as she bakes some goodies to take to the sweet giant Austrian soldier (lmao she’s too forgiving, maybe she chalked up the “cunt licking” incident to a fluke, she’ll just have to be even MORE careful about where she lets him touch, he seems to get too excited). She just wants to do something nice for him, the poor man has been holed up in his company’s sick bay with something (turns out having your brain, heart, and cock explode are not good for your health, but “Blue balled into oblivion” is not something you can actually get diagnosed with, so it’s like…blood pressure issues or something).

König really should be more mindful of his health, tsk tsk.

Oh god this just gets better and better, she's worse than all his enemies combined, and she's baking for our poor broken soldier?! This is too cute 😭💞 (oh and 'tease mother'?? I want this to be my new middle name lol!)

Sweet innocent reader also heard König got into a weightlifting accident. On top of all the exploded body parts, dude sprained his back really bad trying to do a deadlift PR with all the 55 lbs plates he could stack on the bar.

Unfortunately the metal gave up before König, it broke in half in the middle of his lift, and rumours say the whole stunt was actually a cry for help, a suicide attempt, even… But no one will ever know because this man is not what you could exactly call a genius 🫡 So maybe it truly was an accident?

And of course sweet reader bakes him some yummy delicacies to cheer him up!

But oh uh. König almost cowers in his bed when he sees her. He goes completely still as sweet reader approaches him in her cutest outfit ever, smiling like an angel and with a box full of muffins in her hands.

She floats next to his bed like the most innocent butterfly ever, opens the lid so that the cozy scent of baked goodies fills the entire room. Then she picks the biggest, most plump chocolate chip muffin from that box and folds his mask over his nose to give him a taste.

Her movements are those of a ballet dancer as she brings the glorious treat to his lips… but it's her breasts his gaze falls to as she leans forward and gives him an abundant view of the two globes of pure sin, pressed together under the neckline far too wide for her usual wear.

Does this woman even know what she is doing to him...?

Is she fucking deliberately teasing him?

His mouth opens just for the sake of that mouthwatering view, and she takes it as a cue of him wanting her to stuff his mouth full of muffin.

"There we go," she says approvingly as he takes a bite while staring at her breasts, hovering there not even an arms length away. "I made them extra sweet for you…"

The ample view of her soft tits right there in front of him while his mouth is full of melting chocolate is truly a new plane of hell. Were she to turn around to look, she would see the tallest, most vicious tent forming there beside her as his cock juts up under the sheet in all it's glory.

The muffin is still warm, and she licks the extra grease from her fingers when she's done feeding him. He imagines she's licking his cum off of those fingers instead, and almost groans from the dull pain the mere vision sends to his crotch.

"Don't worry. I know you'll be up in no time, King," she chimes and gives him an exceptionally flirty smile. Whatever new torture methods are being used on him now, he hopes to all the gods that the sweet girl won't look behind her. He will just be shamed and scolded for being hard again.

It's absurd and kind of sad how much he has changed since he met her... He feels equal to the mighty Prometheus, bound to an invisible rock and being tortured night after night after night. It almost brings tears to his eyes.

"Oh. My sweet hero… Are you in pain?" She caresses his face through the mask with genuine pity and worry. A teary hiccup is trying to push up his throat, but he forces it down.

Plump breasts and overly sweet muffins and an innocent woman calling him 'King' and 'hero'? Fussing about his health, thinking it's his back that's giving him pain… A tiny little tear almost, almost escapes the corner of his eye as he gives her a tiny, miserable nod.

"Poor thing. You know, I've been thinking…" she bites her lip, takes a deep breath too, sending those breasts swell inside her shirt and giving his cock another demanding pull.

"I really like you," she continues. "And I've finally decided. I want you to be my first."

Was zur Hölle…

His eyes go wide, but otherwise, he's still. The girl dares to give him a peaceful smile while his mind goes slowly blank from the voiceless, internal scream.

What the fuck has he done to deserve this?

She's finally ready, and he has broken his back so profoundly that there will be no moving for weeks. No exercise, no sudden movements, certainly no pounding her sweet, wet virgin pussy to his heart's content.

"We just need to wait until you get better. Doctor's orders!" she chirps as she softly boops his nose.

#answered #yandere könig #könig x virgin reader #lol #torture torture torture #poor boi #lack of movement is not good for him #he can't even kill people #should we at least give him a handjob? 🥺

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peachesofteal · 4 months

Note

Just a thought and def no need to write anything for this, but for your Light On fic, I can imagine Simon as a really hands on type of dad, like when Emmaline ends up going to preschool, he’s the type of dad to walk her to and from school and you just see this big intimidating man but he’s literally so engaged to anything and everything she’s describing about her day. How she’s holding onto his pinky while they walk because her hands are soooo tiny 😩 just all the cute domestic vibes 🥰

-🤠💛

Yes absolutely 😭 so cute! I also imagine he’s the kind of dad that lets her wear whatever she wants to school too. She picks out a dinosaur costume in the morning and he just shrugs and then tells her how cute she is, snaps a picture and loads her up into the car! When they get to school, they take turns making Dino noises until they reach her classroom, and he squats down to wish her a good day with a hug and kiss 🥲 just totally engaged as a parent and not worried about any of the BS because he knows how precious this time is.

#peaches asks #light on

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non-stop-imagines · 3 months

Note

Ok I'm not the nonnie that just asked that question, but I can 100% imagine Lance and Oscar being in a poly. And it's perfect cause they never cross paths it seems like. So a SMAU where the reader (Marsai Martin) comes to the paddock for a visit and everyone is just like wtf?! How did yall pull her?!

You have no idea how crazyy brain went when I got this. And then I almost immediately began working on it...and then I was unable to edit ask responses on my phone for almost a month and a half 😔. Also I absolutely did not mean to do this but my brain read it "Lando and Oscar" and I completely missed that it said "Lance and Oscar" and now I feel terrible but I hope you like it still! 😬😚

(A/n: Also I know I said Charles was next, but I was so excited I could finally edit this post I had to go and finish it. I have been working on my Charles fic though I promise 💖)

~~~~~♥~~~~~~

user_yn

Liked by landonorris and 492,807 others

user_yn Thank you Japan for giving my loves a double podium (and the epic celebration after) 🧡🇯🇵

View all 273 comments

user1 They are so wholesome it gave me clear skin

landonorris So happy our pretty girl got to see us (almost) win 😚

>user_yn And I'm very proud of your (almost) win ☺️

>oscarpiastri It was your beauty radiating from the garage that helped us stay in the top 3

liked by user_yn

>mclaren We agree 👍

user2 Exhibit B of how Yn is their good luck charm

>user3 Yes, but elaborate 🧐

>user2 The last race she was at was Silverstone, when they basically told the rest of the grid "Sike, here's our real car" and now double podium

>landonorris We've been trying to tell @/user_yn, right @/oscarpiastri?

>oscarpiastri If she listened to us, forgot about acting and just came to all the races, we'd be World Champions by now🤷‍♂️

>user_yn Os, baby, don't let Lando drag you down with him

landonorris

Liked by Oscar Piastri

landonorris Had to get that double podium for our lovely lady 😍 🏆(Also Note to Self: Never leave your phone alone with @/user_yn)

View 259 comments

user_yn The real note to self should be "post better pictures of Yn instead of whatever photo you have of her sleeping"

>landonorris But you're so pretty when you sleep 👉🏻👈🏻😚

>user_yn As sweet as that is, don't 🫵🏿

user8 Still accepting theories of how those two even met Yn

>user9 The configuration of the stars the night they met was the same as when the upgrades for Silverstone were finished. That was the most luck those two have every experienced int their lives and they will probably not have such luck again until it is time for their own respective grand prix race wins

>user8 Yes.

oscarpiastri Baby 🧡

>landonorris Couldn't be more proud of you 🧡

>user_yn And I'm the proudest of both of you 🧡

>user4 These 3 deserve each other and I mean that in the purest way possible

>mclaren we just want to join on the orange hearts (even though we love them too)🧡

user5 We stan Bert, Ernie, and their impossibly hot girlfriend

>landonorris Please tell me I'm Ernie 🤞🏻

>user5 Man do I have a treat for you

oscarpiastri

Liked by logansargeant and 193,703 others

oscarpiastri Had to place 2 and 3 because she's our #1 😊

View all 178 comments

user6 Logan's here, we can finally start the festivities

logansargeant @/user_yn is the really Japanese gp winner

>user_yn No don't talk to me you ignored me most of the weekend 😔

>logansargeant I JUST COULDN'T SEE YOU YOU'RE SHORT

>user_yn All I'm hearing are excuses 🙄

user_yn Such a cutie 🥰 So so proud of my boyfriends 💖

>user_yn (I swear if you don't smile with your teeth more often I'm telling your mom.)

>oscarpiastri Yes ma'am (Love you, don't tell my mom ♥️)

>landonorris THANK YOU I've been trying to tell him he has a pretty smile

user7 Yn, the fashion icon ✨

>user_yn It's the hat 🤠

One last thought: Hopefully this is the start of a spark of inspiration because I would love for the ideas I have for all of these requests to LEAVE MY HEAD AND WRITE THEMSELVES OUT ON THESE POSTS!! Anyway, I hope you all liked this and you're all doing well. 😊

#yeea nah #formula 1 #black reader #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #request #lando norris x black!reader #oscar piastri x black!reader #landoscar #f1 poly #im a mess rn #😚

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justalildumpling · 11 months

Text

⇢ haechan as your boyfriend

pairing: haechan x reader genre: fluff, established relationship note: happy bday to our chaotic little pudu!! im sorry for making you the punching bag of my smaus🤠

let’s be for real here, he was the one who confessed to you. it does not matter whether you liked him first, he would’ve confessed first

haechan probably would’ve just started talking to you randomly, asking to become friends and annoying the HECK out of you until you started unwillingly liking him and magically he confessed to you.

when you guys were friends, he probably would’ve hugged you and clung to you a lot but once you start dating this boy… have fun with him stuck to you 24/7! no seriously, you can’t rid of him

expect lots of back hugs, hugs from the side with him placing a soft kiss on your cheek with a playful little smile on his face, him hugging your waist whilst he’s sitting down

your hand will always be warm. if he sees you visiting him at work, he’ll excitedly grab your hand and drag you around; if you’re sitting at dinner with his members, you bet his hand will be caressing the palms of your hand; if you’re having a little cry, his hand will automatically reach for yours, fingers intertwined

so much banter, sarcasm and sass in your relationship like if your friends or anyone saw your text messages to each other, they will be concerned

he would send random photos throughout the week to let you know what he’s up to. it could be a photo of his hair getting dyed with a text saying “i bet you $20 that you can’t guess what colour im dying it this time :p” “red.” “WHAT?!!!>>! YOU WITCH! HOW DID YOU KNOW?” “lucky guess :)” it could even be a photo of his favourite chocolate snacks or a paper cut on his finger

despite your constant old married couple bickerings, haechan would hold so much love for you. he would constantly compliment you, saying that you’re the prettiest person alive, hype you up whenever you buy a new outfit and just gaze at you with a lovesick look in his eyes

that boy and his jealousy are like a match made in heaven (but in the pettiest and jokiest way possible) realistically i don’t haechan would get jealous in a serious sense like he wouldn't be insecure about himself or his trust in you at all but if he sees you hanging out his members (esp dreamies) too much, you best know the man’s gonna either be ignoring you for a bit (to annoy you) or just hanging on for dear life and shouting out how your his girl in front of everyone.

like i can imagine you and him cuddling up in his dorm and him just randomly asking you, “me or jeno?” “huh? where is this coming from?” “answer, me or jeno?” “you, of course, what are you-”

and haechan would get up from his bed and shout out “HAH! SUCK ON THAT JENO! Y/N LIKES ME MORE!” and jeno replying with the most confused face, “I WOULD HOPE THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND LIKES YOU MORE THAN ME??????”

expect lots of facetime calls or just calls in general, it could literally be for a minute before he goes on stage for his tour. “hyuck why are you calling me on standby?” “because i wish you were here, you would’ve loved it here.”

he would call you after every show of his tour and despite the time differences you would still pick up, i can imagine him with his hair damp after his shower, eating a bowl of kimchi jjigae and telling you the highlights of his concert or simply singing you your favourite song as you fall asleep on call

your dates would vary between lazing around at home, watching cheesy rom-coms on netflix with a pile of snacks to going out in the city at night, making your own silly adventure and pretending that it was only the two of you in the world

the best thing about dating haechan would be that he would bring out your inner child, nourishing it and reminding you that it’s okay to have fun and to live in the moment once in a while and to forget about your worries. he would remind you to do the things you love, to make time for them whilst you’re working or whatever adulting things needs to be done.

your relationship with him would be fun, lighthearted and healing and he would never fail to remind you that you are indeed loved and cherished, not just by him but everyone around you as well

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just-some-random-blogger · 1 year

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Hey! could i get an imagine/oneshot fluff nsfw Daemon x fem!reader where they are married and have a very good, even envied relationship (they totally trust each other and are complicit in everything) but the reader is extremely (at exorbitant levels indeed) touch hungry and soooo needy for him, (but not in a bad way) with a lot of fluff please? (sorry for my english)

Ten & One

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Summary: As the 11th child out of 14 kids, all you knew was chaos. The pros of being one of the youngest from such a big family meant most of the duties were already fulfilled by your elder siblings, and yet the unavoidable con of having to marry well still lingered. So one can only imagine how wild your house was when you first brought home the Targaryen prince as your husband. It's even worse now that the endless supply of children hailed them as their new playmate.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: the way I said this would be short 🤡, smut (impregnation kink, praise kink, choking, riding, oral [f receiving], vaginal penetration), trash talking older sisters (trust me), fem!reader, wife!reader, so so so many kids, soft!daemon, scared by kids!daemon HAHA, girl dad energy!daemon, reader has baby fever ig, flufffffffff, typos, etc.

A/N: YO IVE NEVER WRITTEN A REQUEST SO FAST I THINK yeah so this turned into.... whatever this is. it started out with when I thought of a conflict for the prompt, but then it spiraled like it always does. 🤠 I hope you like it though nonnie!!! And don't even worry about your english. i still cant spell after all the years ive spoken it. 😪 we bilinguals gotta stick together Here's kinda a part 2 to it "Mine"!!!!

In all his years of life, Daemon faced an immense volume of angst, treachery, death, and pain. He was far from a coward and did not even waver under the gaze of dragons. Yet as he sat in the middle of a what he realized was a sacrificing room, only then did he know true fear.

They were surrounding him, filthy, loud, concerning moist-

"Why the fuck are your hands wet, Silas?" Daemon cringed as he grabbed the red haired toddler's hand before it landed on his cheek.

One of the nannies present in the nursery looked to the other and exchanged knowing and amused looks.

One blonde haired boy began to cry as one brown haired boy yanked the toy from his hand. Daemon turns, instinctively needing to hush the child, that was until the brunette begins to cry as well, because a raven haired boy steals the toy he had stolen.

The nannies don't even need to go to the crying kids as one of the older children present, their sister, Daemon thinks, worked to calm them down.

The twin brother of the boy in Daemon's grip with the same burning red hair looked over to whom spoke from the other side of the room, halting his game with his much, much younger brother inside the crib he was not supposed to be in. Silas' lips purse into a soft thoughtful line, brows furrowing against each other as he looks to his small palms, "my hands are not wet, uncle!"

The boy says this in such a sweet tone, with not hint of malice, that Daemon actually feels bad for cursing.

Upon catching where the boy was, one of the nannies move to remove him from the crib. It's futile though, the moment the woman is distracted with the other children, he climbs right back in.

Silas' twin, Oliver, the one with the actual wet hand, vindicates his brother by slapping the prince's lips with his free one, "don't say bad words!"

Daemon looks at the child-he-did-not-know-the-name-of. His only thought was at least the hand that slapped to his face wasn't wet.

"Go to your mother," Daemon commands.

Had it been anyone else, it would have struck fear in them, but the child does not recognize the threat at all, especially not when three of his female cousins come running to Daemon, making the man himself reel back in some semblance of fear.

It seems they finally found the comb and clips they needed to fix his hair with.

Fuck.

"PRINCE UNCLE!" one girl excitedly screams, shooing Oliver from away from Daemon. Oliver gleefully runs towards his darker haired cousins and engage in combat with pillows.

One nanny promptly scolds them when feathers explode everywhere.

Rebecca, or so he thinks that's her name, grins as she makes her way to Daemon's lap. Her older sister, Annaliese (?), runs behind him. The youngest among the three, Constance, he knew, sat on the other side of his lap next to her cousin.

All at once, Rebecca throws her curly, golden-brown locks behind her, making it splash against Daemon's face, adding to injury when her elbow hits the prince' jaw. Annaliese rips at Daemon's scalp, undoing the tie he had in his own silver-white hair, causing a groan to leave his lips. Constance bounces up and down Daemon's lap as she wraps her small arms around his torso and looked up at him with an adoring look.

Verdict, Daemon didn't know what to feel.

Meanwhile.

"Oh, I honestly thought you'd have kids by now!" my eldest sister, Elise nudges me, "with how hotly your prince eyes you-"

"You should have come back pregnant," our fifth born sibling, Catherine, cuts in scolding me, "I already bragged about your fertile womb to those stupid, big mouthed ladies at court."

"Sissy!" I cry out.

"They fucking deserved to be put in their place," Catherine growls, "don't they know how many children our mother sired?" she scoffs, "the audacity of those rats to call you barren just because you haven't gotten pregnant after a few months of marriage."

Elise rolls her eyes, "they're just jealous because their breast milk comes out like sand."

My jaw drops.

"Their cunts are probably drier than sandpaper," Catherine says in agreement.

Our youngest sibling, Gretta, and the only other girl amongst our siblings, makes a face and tries to halt the vulgar insults by telling me, "they're probably just jealous you snagged the prince and they didn't."

"Probably?!" Elise quips.

Catherine throws her head back in laughter, "those smelly cunts are maddened by the very idea."

My older sisters begin to fall into more trash talk. Gretta and I exchange knowing looks and take each other's hand before slowly walking away.

After we flee, I decide I am wholly ready to leave my house and all it's chaos.

"My love, I'm ready to- oh," my perky voice falls in shock when I see my husband's hair tangled up in multiple clips and ribbons. It seems the sneaky girls also got their hands on a bit of rouge, judging by the smeared red on his face.

"AUNTIE LOOK!" Frances (Rebecca) cries in joy as she stood beside her captive, affectionately hugging him, "WE MADE PRINCE UNCLE SO PRETTY!"

"FRANCES, DON'T!" Bethany (Annaliese) scolds her younger sister when she messes up her work, "YOU'RE RUINING MY RIBBONNNNNSSSS!"

"Girls, please, your cousin is asleep!" Daemon scolds weakly, cradling the little girl, Constance, in his arms.

Frances looks down on her cousin, "Oh," she leans down, "prince uncle, I can carry her into the crib if you like."

Daemon turns to Frances, bringing a finger to her face, stroking her cheek sweetly, "I'll do that myself," he turns to the other girl, "if," he drags out, "my lady sets me free."

Bethany takes Daemon's hollow cheeks into her warm hands. Daemon smiles at the sight of her gleaming eyes.

My lips pull into a pout and my hear soars at their exchange.

Bethany, then nodding to herself, turns to Frances, "we did good, sister!"

Frances squeals yet again, nearly choking Daemon as she embraces him tightly.

"Frances!" I finally intervene, amused face falling into concern, "you will behead the poor man at this point."

Frances turns to the said man and releases him slowly. Daemon catches his breath, smiling at the girl, impressed by her strength. He finally stands and brings Constance to the occupied crib where Silas and a baby he-did-not-know were napping.

Frances runs over to me, arms snaking around my skirt as much as her little limbs could, "auntie," she coos, "will you be staying for supper?"

I steal a look at Daemon who is now rubbing his face, unknowingly ruining the rouge he must have forgot he had on. This promptly triggers Bethany as she falls to her knees and mourns her craft, shrieking so loudly she could probably wake the dead.

Daemon, in his panic, promptly picks the girl up, like one would a bag, then runs out of the room, as not to make trigger the rest of the kids into similar shrieks. I watch as Bethany dangles horizontally by her torso in my husband's strong arm as she weeps into her hands.

I finally turn back to Frances after Daemon leaves the room, "sorry, little bug. Your prince uncle and I have to leave now if we wish to return to our home before dark."

Frances pouts at that. I lean down and kiss the girl's nose before leaving her in the nursery with the rest of the kids and their nannies.

I find Daemon in the hall, handing his weeping niece to her teenage brother, who was biting his lip for dear life, trying to hold back his laughter. He makes sure not to forfeit a dirty look at Thomas, but that does not hinder the giggles that still manage to escape his mouth.

Thomas walks away, carrying his sister in her arms, shushing her as he giggled.

Daemon jolts, hand instinctively reaching out for the absent sword in his belt when I come up to him with a grin. He melts against my touch when my thumbs begin to wipe away the redness on his face.

He pulls me close to him by my waist, hands rubbing my back to soothe me, though he actually does so to soothe himself. I giggle, "you would make a fine father."

"They make me eager to pull out," he notes, closing his eyes.

I lightly slap his cheek in a scolding manner.

I was still not done evening out the color on his face when he pushes past me and crushes me into an exasperated embrace, "I thought once I wanted many children after growing up with only one brother," he strokes my hair as he bends down and nuzzles on my neck, "now I cannot even bare the idea of having one."

I scrunch my face in distaste, "I will not be left childless, husband," I begin to take notice of the paraphernalia in his hair, "but," I decide to tease, "if you will not have me, then I shall ma-"

He squeezes me in his arms, lifting me up, causing me to squeak, "who says I will not have you?"

"My prince," a servant calls, making me crane my neck over to whom spoke.

Daemon begrudedly pulls away, giving the man an uninterested expression with a voice that matches, "yes?"

The prince's face contort tighter in annoyance when the servant's face tenses in reaction to what he saw. I see how his lips fight back laughter and the whole incident make me break into a giggle.

Daemon is wholly unamused, and shows it to the servant boy in particular, "it will hurt no less if I slit your throat in this moment," he barks, stepping forward without hesitation.

The servant flinches back.

I bring my hand up to his chest, giving him an annoyed look, "Daemon please."

He clenches his jaw and grips his hands but does not take another step.

"The boat is ready for you and your lady wife," the servant quickly tells, promptly bowing then rushing away.

"You should have let me bruised him at least," Daemon says scornfully.

I roll my eyes at his pouty face, "come now," I say working on removing the clips in his hair, "we must leave before Bethany sees your hair without her embellishments."

Daemon's brows knit as he looks down on me, "who's Bethany?"

The moment we arrive to our home, I finally feel the effects of entertaining the many members of my house the whole day.

I am unbelievably tired when I finally lie in bed in my favorite night gown. I am in fact too tired to even rise from my place and pull the covers over me.

"Pretty girl," I hear him before I see him. In fact I feel his hand climbing up my thigh before I see his face.

I lift my head up along with a brow as Daemon climbs up next to me only in his breeches. I lick my lips at the sight of his exposed skin and clean face. His mouth meets the skin beneath his hands.

"I thought you were exhausted, husband?"

He only hums as he positions himself between my legs, "never too tired for a good fuck, wife."

I allow my head to fall back on the bed as I laugh. I encourage him to do as he pleases when my hand scratches lightly at the roots of his freshly washed hair. Daemon kisses my supple flesh as he lifts my thighs over his shoulders.

He takes his time teasing me, lips gnawing at my skin. I release a sigh and rest my hands to my side, "you know my sisters were cross that I was not pregnant."

He chuckles, pushing my short skirt up, "I'm sure they were."

I moan when his lips meet my core. My body ignites after this.

I grip at the sheets when I feel his tongue dart out. I let out a breath, basking in the sensation. A thought however lands in my head and I cannot stop from asking it, "do you think perhaps something is a matter?"

Daemon stills, head rising from where it was tucked.

I, myself, rise on my elbows and pout, the expression further concerns the face between my legs. It however fades once I say, "maybe we're doing something wrong when we share company."

Daemon rolls his eyes, "you can just ask me to fuck you harder."

I yelp when his face sinks and he nibbles on my sensitive nub. I moan out his name like gospel, and as much as I don't want it to end, I wriggle in his grasp when I think of something else I need to say.

He uses his strength to force me still, wanting nothing but to devour me. I nearly cave and halt my actions, but I catch his attention when I whine his name out in a plea, "Daemon stop."

He is utterly irritated by this, "what is it now?"

I pout in annoyance, "maybe it's because you're too rough!"

Daemon rolls his eyes yet again.

"Daem-" I whine when his lips begin to move against me again, "think about it!"

Daemon's had enough.

He shoves my legs off him and heaves angrily. I move to sit up and give my husband a cautious look. He however manages to get on his knees and quickly yanks me back down, "shall I give you a lesson, my naïve little wife?"

I purse my lips together as he crawls over me, "I am not naïve. I am only saying that-"

Daemon sighs as he undoes his pants.

"- don't you think I should have been pregnant by now -"

He manages to rip them down while hovering over me.

"- considering how often you bed me?"

He throws his clothes off to the side and pulls my legs apart. We simultaneously moan when he enters me and I bring my hands to his nape, digging my nails into his skin.

Daemon presses a kiss on my lips as he adjusts my legs around him.

I expect him to give me a talking as he pounds into me, but I am only met with stillness and silence. And as much as I love the feeling of him in me like this, I begin to get impatient, "well?"

Daemon chuckles, "I'm teaching you a lesson, wife."

I narrow my eyes at him.

He relishes the deviant expression. He bucks his lips slowly, drawing out a moan from me. Daemon is utterly pleased.

He kisses my neck, hands going to my sides, "if you think my fucking is why you haven't fallen with child-"

I yelp when he quickly spins and rips me over him. I brace myself, hands ending up on his chest. I shift above him, making the both of us groan.

Daemon rubs my arms affectionately, taking in how the loose nightgown wrapped on my body. He fiddles with the lace, "fuck yourself on me then."

For a moment, his words make my belly roll in a wave of hot desire. But something else dawns on me when I see Daemon's hooded eyes. I break into a chuckle, he groans out as a consequence to it, "you're just tired, aren't you?"

His eyes darken. I chuckle yet again. I no longer laugh when he flicks his hips into to me roughly, "fucking move."

I hiss and lean into him, shooting him a glare of my own.

Unappreciative of my disobedience, he grabs my hips and glides me the opposite way of his thrusts, "if you do not move, I'll leave you restless and come all over your pretty face."

I whine at obscene notion.

"You wouldn't want my seed to go to waste, now, would you?" he croons, "don't you want me to get you pregnant?"

I moan as I push myself up and grab on his wrists, following his movements with my own thrusts.

He hisses, melting at my actions. Eventually he is still beneath me as I bounce on him. He praises me for finally listening, "that's it," he exhales, "up and down like a good girl."

I mewl at the sound of his deep voice. He digs at the sides of waist when I quicken my pace. At some point, he is unable too hold back from snapping himself into me. He groans as he does so and I reposition myself, allowing him to reach my sweet spot. I nearly drool when he does. I rip at my lower lip with my teeth and release a guttural sound, "Daemon."

He grunts, "yes, my love." His hands sneak under my dress and rubs my bare skin, "you're doing so good. Such a sweet, pretty girl."

I feel his hands on my belly. I roll my head back when his thumb circles on my wet nub.

His fingers dig into me, "you'll look so pretty carrying my child," he grunts, "mmm, fuck, always so ready for me."

My hands climb to his neck when he says this and I screw my eyes shut focusing on the feeling of him sliding in and out of me.

"Fuck," he drawls, absolutely aroused by the pressure on his throat, "harder," he commands.

Daemon awaits the added pressure but curses when there is none. He calls out my name, making me look down at him. I release a gasp when his hands press down on mine as he repeats, "harder, pretty girl."

I bite my lip and nod, constricting my hands on his throat just a fraction.

It seems to be enough as Daemon releases string of profanities before his hands come back to my hips. He pulls his legs up behind me and fucks into me with a renewed sense of vigor.

My voice bounces the same way my body does. I'm pretty sure I don't even move anymore as Daemon does all the work of slamming into me.

"Fuck, Daemon, don't stop," I whine, as I regain the brain to move against him.

Our own bed whines in distress over actions. The entire room is filled with lewd noises.

It's all a matter of time before it's all over.

I find myself pressing down on him when I come with a loud cry. I release such a breathy shudder that after, I lose my breath. I dig my fingers into his shoulders when I feel him follow after me the next second. I absolutely revel in the heat he burns into me, at the idea I could be carrying his seed soon.

Daemon's hands are ripping roughly at my flesh so hard, I practically feel them bruise. I couldn't care less though.

Yelps and moans continue to leave my lips up until we both crash against each other.

I gasp when I hear Daemon pant heavily after I release him from my grip. He is heaving for literal dear life.

"Daemon, are you alright?" I whine in concern.

He looks lightheaded and yet his lips curve into a smirk, "don't worry, my love, I'm more than alright."

I let out a sight of relief, pressing a kiss on his jaw. I rub my hands onto his face, his own rake my dress up and down my back.

"I do hope I get you pregnant this time," he mutters, pulling me close to press a kiss on my forehead, "I will not stop until I do." He rubs his cheek against my head, "we should go again for good measure."

I grunt at the thought at maneuver off him.

He growls, pressing a kiss on whatever he could get his lips on, unwilling to release me.

"Daemon," I warn emptily.

"What?" he mutters, finding my neck. He licks my skin before biting down, "you enjoy this."

I moan and push him off, "that's the point! You're tired."

When I'm off him, laying to his side, he chuckles darkly and climbs over me.

"Daemo-"

"I'm never too tired for a good fuck."

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