Tumgik
#gently kissing him and all his scars
crazy-concubine · 2 months
Text
WHY IS HE SO CUTE WHAT????
Tumblr media
The tags I made
21 notes · View notes
bcdluckstumblcd · 2 years
Text
//Kicking and screaming thinking about Jin ABSOLUTELY melting at forehead kisses
3 notes · View notes
bagofshinyrocks · 5 months
Text
Government name vs Military callsign
Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?
Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 0.9k
Warnings: none
Tumblr media
John Price
Government name.
Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.
“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”
Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.
“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”
“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”
He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.
“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”
When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.
Tumblr media
Simon Riley
Military callsign.
When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.
“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”
“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 
Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.
“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.
“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”
Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 
A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.
Tumblr media
Kyle Garrick
Government name.
He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.
“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”
Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.
If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?
“Kyle Ga-”
“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”
You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”
He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”
“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”
He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 
“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.
Tumblr media
John MacTavish
Military callsign.
He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.
Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.
“SOAP!”
Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.
“JOHNNY!”
“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.
“C’mere, c’mere.”
He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”
You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”
He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”
“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”
“You called me Soap.”
“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”
Tumblr media
Posted: 2023 Dec 10
13K notes · View notes
soap-ify · 4 months
Text
thinking about laying beside simon on the bed, your head resting on his shoulder while his hands held a book that you had gifted him, his eyes fixed on the text.
your fingers absentmindedly traced over the scars on his chest, letting your soft fingertips draw over the rough sunken skin of the healed gashes — a painful story written in each of them. and you wanted to read it all, read every scar and cut, kiss all of it, absorb it so you could share it with him — a connection only you’d ever have with him.
your fingers slowly found their way to his stomach, hand caressing the muscles that had softened up ever since he had come home from deployment, your eyes noticing the stretch marks starting on the sides of his tummy that you adored so much. pale lines adorning his skin, urging you to probe them too, your hand touching him so gently — an angel soothing a wounded soldier.
simon is gorgeous, too gorgeous. he never seemingly saw it the way you did. “you’re so pretty…” you lazily whispered, pressing a soft kiss on his shoulder.
you were the warmth his cold heart sought, the fire that melted him, the sun that gave his moon the light he never thought he’d see. he needed you in the way a man needed a god, in a way a plant yearned for water. and you were happy to give it all to him, everything for your sweet simon.
“you tryin’ to tickle me, love?” his gruff voice broke you out of your trance, your eyes finding his which were no longer looking at the book, an intrigued grin playing on his lips that made you giggle heartedly and give his stomach some pats.
“maybe.”
7K notes · View notes
sttoru · 2 months
Note
Helloo, could you do a scenario where baby gumi can’t sleep because he forgot his favorite blanky at daycare. What would y/n and toji do?
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. not beta read reader gets called ‘mama’. wc: around 600
Tumblr media
“the little brat won’t sleep,” is what your husband says as he steps into your shared bedroom—the child in question right in his arms. toji sighs in defeat whilst megumi continues on wailing.
it’s been an hour since he’s tried to get your son to sleep. though, megumi’s stubbornness remains victorious; not without his beloved blanket.
“the hell do we do? kid just refuses to sleep,” toji continues. he walks over to the edge of the bed and sits down next to you. your husband clicks his tongue like he’s offended, “tsk. he even scratched me when i tried to pick ‘m up.”
your eyes travel down the length of toji’s arms before finding the little fresh scars. they aren’t anything serious, but they look like they hurt at impact. you know since you’ve been a victim to a toddler’s scratches before.
their strong grip needs to be studied.
“aww, that’s not good, ‘gumi,” you shake your head and jokingly frown at your son. megumi’s cries quiet down once he hears your soothing voice. he whimpers and blinks his tears away.
toji raises an eyebrow at his son who’s suddenly gone silent. he knows that your voice has a calming effect—it even works on the older man himself—but it’s still fascinating to see how easily you can take control of the situation.
“c’mere,” you coo at megumi. you take the little child from toji’s arms and pat his back softly. you kiss the top of his head repeatedly and hum the tune of his favourite song, ‘twinkle twinkle little star’.
toji balances his body back on his arms with his hands flat on the mattress behind him. he’s still impressed by how fast you managed to soothe your son, “hmph, how come he’s quiet with you?”
you glance at toji and catch him frowning—pouting almost. it seems your husband’s quite jealous of your parenting skills. or.. of the favouritism your child has, “heh, gumi’s clearly a mama’s boy.”
you decide to tease toji and he reacts like expected. the dark-haired man scoffs and rolls his eyes at your remark before scooting closer to you—leaning his head down to megumi.
the little boy sniffles as he rests against your shoulder. his big, teary eyes open and land on his father’s face that’s only inches away.
toji ruffles megumi’s hair, to which the little boy whines and huffs. the older man gently grabs megumi’s cheeks with one hand and squeezes them together, “ye gotta watch out, buddy.”
megumi squirms in your embrace. he tries to shake his dad’s hand away, threatening to bite it if toji won’t let go.
toji grins at his son’s sounds of protest. he can’t take megumi seriously when he’s all whiny like this. it makes the boy look adorable in his eyes—makes him want to tease him.
your husband clears his throat after catching himself smiling at the adorable sight. he continues his little teasing act by lightly nibbling on megumi’s cheeks, “‘m still y’r mama’s favorite, ya hear?”
you roll your eyes and giggle at toji’s words. it’s not the first time toji’s ‘fought’ with megumi over your attention. or over who’s considered your ‘favorite’. you know it’s all jokes in the end—but it’s entertaining each time.
“honey, he’s a kid,” you laugh softly as toji continues to tickle and nibble on megumi’s skin, making the little boy giggle but also squirm in attempt to make his dad stop.
toji stops for a second to reply. he’s got a cocky smirk on his face as he responds, “and i’ll fight a kid.”
. . . at least megumi’s forgotten all about his favorite blanket.
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
THE WAY HE LOUNGES ON THE TABLE... GN Y'ALL I CANNOT DO THIS RIGHT NOW ANSJQJSHQHEHQJW
1 note · View note
bi-writes · 2 months
Text
hmm im thinking about it being the first night simon stays over, and you show him how to take off his makeup. (18+)
he looks tired. you stand in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher with the remnants from dinner. you don't want to spend time washing the full sink, you just want to sit next to him and soak up the warmth of him--you had missed him, and all you want to do is curl up next to him and nuzzle your face into his mask and finally get him into your bed, under your covers.
he's never slept over. he's always been adamant about that. always lacing up his boots after the movie, kissing you through the mask after a warm date, tucking you in when you get too tipsy and leaving water by the bedside table. he always goes, and even if he comes back in the morning, he always makes sure he does not stay over.
even when he fucked you the first time--he waited until you fell asleep, and then he left, and he came back in the morning with breakfast, but you knew he went home because he smelled fresh and he was wearing different clothes.
but tonight, he's staying. because you finally asked, and how could he say no to those pretty eyes? to that sweet little pout?
the distance, he was always trying to maintain it. but it was useless. you are not temporary. there is no end date. he can't keep letting you linger at arm's length.
you're soft and sweet, and your cunt is the same, and when he isn't thinking about being cock-deep in you, he's dreaming of your soft voice and your pretty smile and the tender way you kiss him and the way you hug. the all-encompassing, enveloping way you put him at ease. his rage builds, and one look at you, and it is gone.
as if it never mattered in the first place. as if it was never there at all.
so he agreed to stay. his bag sits heavy in your bedroom, clean clothes inside, and his toothbrush is in the same holder as yours in the bathroom. he lingered on it when he had put it there; two versus one. he never wants to see his toothbrush alone ever again.
he blinks awake when he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. he's still wearing his army fatigues, black cargo pants and his windbreaker, the skull balaclava tucked under his long sleeve to hide any skin. his holsters are still around his thighs, but they are empty, and his vest is on the floor by the door, where his boots are. he feels your warmth even through the layers, and he leans towards it without thinking.
you kiss the side of his head, cupping under his chin gently.
"tired, simon?" you coo softly. "'s alright. we should get you in bed. been a long day."
"mm...olright," he murmurs, and you look up at him as he stands, and he towers over you, making you feel small, but safe. he's a bear, and he's yours, and he's staying.
you take his hand gently, and he follows you. you stand side-by-side in the bathroom, and you smile at him in the mirror as he unzips his windbreaker, revealing the hoodie underneath. his eyes meet yours, and he winks, and you smile wider, especially when his hand falls, smacking your ass nice and firm.
"wot, luv? somethin' funny, yeah?"
you shake your head and laugh, and then you reach for the headband in the drawer, slipping it over you as you prepare to wash your face. you slip a few products out onto the counter, and your mouth goes dry when simon grips his mask from the back of his head and pulls it completely off.
he is so handsome. his nose is crooked; he's broken it a few times, that's for sure. there's a scar deep across his face, jagged over his lips, and you've felt it when you've kissed him before, but it's jarring to see it. there's a few more across his other cheek, along his forehead, and you break out into nervous giggles as you meet his dark eyes. the eye-black around his eyes has shifted with the fabric of the mask and with sweat, but he still looks hot.
really hot.
you swallow hard and turn the sink on, wetting your hands. simon reaches to do the same, and you watch as he brings his wet hands up and starts to wash his face. immediately, the eye-black just smears, and he has to move more over the sink as he continues to wash.
"simon?"
"'s olright. just takes a few minutes for it to come off."
you smile, "here, i...let me help."
he turns the water off, wiping his face on his sleeve, and you giggle when he looks into the mirror and realizes all he's done is smear the black across his cheeks. he laughs with you, deep and gravelly, and you reach into the drawer and pull out two bracelets made of absorbent fabric.
"give me your hands," you say softly, and he does, and you slip the bracelets over his wrists. "keeps the water from running down your arms."
"fuckin' annoyin' when it does that," he grumbles, and you smile. you reach across the counter, opening a small jar.
"it's called double cleansing. you take this balm--" you get a dime-sized amount onto your finger and you put it into his hand, "--and then you rub it into your hands until it becomes...kinda oily. it'll take off all of...that--" you motion to the black streaks along his face.
"oi, are y'on the piss?" he laughs, "it'll take it oll'off?"
you giggle and nod, "yeah. try it."
he rubs his hands together, warming up the balm, and then he reaches up and massages it into his face. you watch, biting back more laughs, when he realizes how much easier the eye-black moves, coming off onto his hands. when he washes it off, it's nearly gone, and then you give him a dollop of face wash to help rinse the rest away. he dries his face on a towel, grinning in the mirror, and you hug his arm gently as he takes the bracelets off.
your eyes meet again in the mirror, and he smooths his hands down your waist, moving you in front of him, leaning over your and putting his face into your neck. he warms the skin there with soft kisses, and you laugh, buzzing with delight.
"you're so beautiful, luv," he growls in your ear, and you close your eyes.
"you're...y-you're beautiful, too, simon."
"yeah? come off it."
never. you'll never come off whatever high you're on now. you reach up and hold onto him, as much as you can grab, and you close your eyes as you kiss, his lips on yours, something hot in your chest and something soft in your insides.
you hold onto him tighter. you will not let go.
2K notes · View notes
sgtgarricks · 3 months
Text
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ your gentle hands are enough
simon riley x afab!reader cw: nsfw, angst kinda?, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, praise kink, creampie!!, reader referred as 'pet' like twice, smut with sadness, hurt/kinda comfort, mention of johnny's death, simon is scared of commitment :(, we still love him.
reblogs are immensely appreciated! <3
NEXT PART (HEA): i want your hands on me for all my life
notes: my first ever fic that i'm posting on this site !! feedback is appreciated ♡ dedicated to @rowarn for being lovely and entertaining my rambles!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You and Simon weren't exactly dating.
He visits you almost every night whenever he's in the city and he's always gone before you're out of bed. But you relish on the rare occasions that you're awake before him — the moments you get to brush your hand through the raised scars littered all across his face, the moments you get to tangle your fingers in his hair to hear his little grunts.
Simon Riley has rough hands, scarred and calloused from years in the battlefield. Yet when those hands are caressing your body softly, you know he's being unnecessarily gentle to not let you feel the roughness in his hands — as if he was trying to prevent all the hurt and pain he's inflicted with his fists from bleeding into you.
You pretend to have only just woken up, eyes blinking slowly trying to adjust to the sunlight filtering in through the blinds.
"Morning, Si."
"G'morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?" He places a warm palm on your hip, not fulling resting the weight of it.
"I always do when you're here." You raised your hand to his chest and feel his heart thumping steadily below you. His body always runs hot no matter the weather and it makes you nuzzle into him more during the bleak winter.
Silence engulfs the two of you, lulling you into a vulnerable state of bliss as you recall the events of last night.
You had barely opened the door for him last night before his hands were all over you, lips crashing onto yours as he kissed you with desperation. Strong hands working swiftly to remove your clothes gently as he pushed you towards the bedroom.
Simon was always gentle with you, but you've been with him long enough to know the difference between him missing you and him scared at the thought of missing you.
Instead of gently laying you down on the plush mattress, he pushed you with a little bit of force than usual.
"Simon!" You yelp. You must've been too distracted by him to fully notice that he was now fully naked below you.
He had a glint in his eye that let you know you were not going to be able to rest until he coaxed multiple orgasms from you.
His hand was constantly on your body, not wanting to go for a second without feeling your skin under his. Greedy kisses were peppered all across your collarbone that were now marked with the imprint of his teeth.
You knew Simon was trying to memorize every inch of your body, leave his marks on you because he was going to go back on deployment soon.
This realization is what snaps you out of your peaceful reverie. That your Simon is going to leave you soon.
The mere thought of having to see him leave your apartment in a few hours and not getting to see him for another week? Months?
It leaves a sour taste in your mouth that made you frown and turn your head away.
Simon, ever so vigilant, notices your downturned lips. He cups your chin and swivels it to face him. He nudges his nose with yours, placing a gentle kiss on your lips.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?"
You hate that he was playing dumb. Hates that he thinks you don't know his antics by now. Hates that he thinks you don't know him by now.
"You know why, Si." Pushing your hands on the plush bed, you rest your back on the headboard. You stare at Simon disapprovingly, upset that he's trying to pretend everything is fine.
He sighs heavily and run his hand through his hair, messing it up more than it already was.
"How do you know?" He finally lets out, still laying down on his side staring up at you.
You scoff at him. Maybe because you've seen him through his highs-and-lows. You've seen his little smirk at your antics. Listened to his stories intently as he fondly recalls memories with his squad mates.
But you've also seen him coming to you bloody, battered, bruised, and shaking as you stitched his back. You've seen him scare himself awake at night, dreaming about the last time he saw Johnny.
He chuckles when you stare at him pointedly and finally sits up. He waits for you to stop sulking for a few minutes, before sighing once more.
The bed creaks with his weight as he tries to stand up from it, turning towards the window. You know what's coming next and you are fully aware there's nothing you can do to stop him from going on deployment.
What you can do, is at least try to make him stay a little bit longer.
You crawl forward from your position, throwing both your arms around his wide torso — at least try to, he's way too wide for you to fully engulf him in your arms.
"Don't go."
Your lips are pressed against his back as you softly plead with him to not go. Simon takes both your arms in his hands and angles his upper body towards you. Slowly, you move up from your sprawled-out position and kneel in front of him.
"Please." You slowly pull away your arms from his grip. He reluctantly lets you go before you slowly wrap them behind his neck. You inch closer to him, slowly leaning down and kissing his neck.
Simon moans languidly, still groggy.
"You play dirty, love." He cups your behind, angling his neck upwards to give you more access.
"You love it."
"Being cheeky, are you?" You grin against his neck, biting down softly. Arching your neck subtly as Simon tugged on your hair.
These were truly the moments you truly enjoy the most. Not that you don't enjoy sleeping with him, you definitely do. But being able to love him freely in the daylight made it much more intimate.
You suspect it's why Simon always tried his best to leave before the sun came up.
You know Simon loves you, albeit in his own unique way. He's never been nothing but kind and gentle to you, always making sure you feel safe and taken care of with him. From locking your door with the spare key he has after he leaves, to making sure to take care of you after having sex — always gets up to clean any messes he had left on your body with gentle wipes and ending it with a soft kiss to your forehead.
Despite your numerous attempts to get him to open up about his past, he doesn't bite often. Though, you know some part of him wants nothing more than to tell you every single thing about himself when he speaks little snippets of his past.
He doesn't tell you anything overly upsetting, always keeping it minimal and with as little details of violence as possible.
Perhaps, his idea of a small mercy.
Maybe he thinks he's doing you a favor, giving you little bits of himself hoping you eventually realize how damaged he is. He doesn't understand how those flickers of vulnerability makes you hungrier for more of him. You wanted him, thorns and all.
Simon lets himself get roped back into your arms, all his muscles relaxed, no trace any tautness or rigidness lingering. He feels safe in your arms.
"How long Simon?" You finally ask, preparing for the worst.
Simon was mostly gone for around a month.
But on the rare times you couldn't see him for more than half a year, it was like hell. It hurt so deeply knowing even if he had been killed off somewhere, you might not even know. The only traces left of him would only be the few shirts he's let you take and the Simon-shaped hole he would have left in your heart.
It scared you that you could never be able to smell his earthy musk lingering in your sheets again, that it would fade one day and you wouldn't remember what it smelled like anymore.
"I dunno. More or less three months?"
You hated when he was vague. He was often trying to spare your feelings.
"So... more."
He nods with his face still hiding in your neck. You can feel him press his nose harder and inhale deeply.
Deep down, you feel crushed. You always do when he has to leave. You want to tell him how much you love him again, how much you need him, and you wanted him to say it back so badly.
You thought you had gotten so far with him, slowly breaking down his walls after getting him to start staying over instead of leaving. Something changed after he lost Johnny — he was more touchy, more clingy, but he never let you get any closer anymore. You could physically feel him wince if you told him you loved him during one of your vulnerable moments.
The first time you told him you loved him, he looked at you with a somber look. He didn't say anything, but he pulled you close and gave you a bone-crushing hug.
I'm sorry.
He gave different reactions every time. Some days he'd simply sigh and drag his fingers through your hair lovingly. On worse days, he'd shake his head and do nothing else.
It was like an impenetrable wall had suddenly appeared when it wasn't there before.
You take a deep breath. Simon has been nothing but gentle with fragile you. He's been trying his best to not taint the heart that you've freely ripped out of your chest for him.
Maybe this time, you can do something for him and let him go back without the weight of your love on his shoulder.
"Better make the most of it then, eh?" You pull back from him and hear a grunt of protest. You start pushing him until his back hit the headboard gently. Kissing your way down to his groin, you tug at his boxers impatiently.
"Sweetheart you don't have to-"
"I want to." You cut him off.
"Fuck. You're gonna be the death o' me, love." He lifts his hips and lets you drag his boxers down, revealing his semi-hardness.
God, his cock is so beautiful. It's so thick you could barely wrap both your hands around it even when he's not fully hard.
"I'll make sure to send you off gently with a kiss, Simon." Your mouth slowly engulfs the tip of his cock, licking all around it. Simon lets out a groan as he grabs your head gently.
"Oh, fuck. That's it, sweetheart. So sweet, being so good f' me." He encourages sweetly and it's enough to get you preening and moving your head excitedly down his length.
Just as you know his habits, Simon also knows what makes you tick. Getting praised by him almost always makes you putty in his hands and he makes sure to take advantage of this information to its full potential. He loves to praise you even for the smallest of things, such as cooking for him when he gets back.
Telling you how lovely you are and how he's thankful for you taking the time to cook for grumpy, old, Simon.
You continue taking more of his length in your mouth, gaggling slightly from the sheer size of him. You can taste the salty precum on your tongue and your eyes roll back from pleasure, taking him in more enthusiastically.
"Slow down, love. Don't want- ugh.. you t' hurt yourself." Simon tries to pull your head back to give you space, but you're not happy about it. You glare up at him best as you can before taking him down to the hilt.
Nose pressed deep, you can smell the slight tang of his musk, making you slightly delirious. You moan, sending vibrations up throughout his body.
Simon trembles with pleasure, groaning.
"Yeah, you like that sweetheart? Love choking on my cock? Hmm?"
At his words, you slowly take your mouth off of him, replacing it with your hands. Slick from your spit and his precum, your hand glides along his shaft easily as he bucks into your hand.
"Mhm.." You put your mouth on him once more, only pulling away to rub it all over your face. "Love it so much, Si. Love having your cock in my mouth. Can't live without it."
Simon admires you, cockdrunk on his leaking shaft. Even with his mess all over your face as you slobber on him, he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous.
Looking up at him, it's like you can see hearts in his eyes. You've been wet since the moment you woke up to him next to you, but him looking at you like you're the only person he wants to see on him makes you feel on top of the world.
Unable to take it anymore, you whine pathetically and start humping the bed.
Simon sees you writhing on the bed below him and chuckles as you continue kissing all over his cock.
"Look at you.. so needy, sweetheart. You don't need to hump the bed like a dog in heat. I'm right here, love." With that, he gently pulls you off his cock. You groan dismay, body going slightly limp from desperation.
"Need you so bad, Si." You beg him, tears starting to form in your eyes. You think you're going to crazy if he doesn't fuck you soon. He's about to leave soon for months and you're desperate for him to leave his mark on you.
Simon gently tuts and caresses your cheek. He's in awe of how he's got such a lovely, needy, pet wrapped around his finger. He hasn't had someone this devoted to him in a very long time — someone who's always excited to see him come home, someone who's never asked for him for more than what he can give.
Maybe it makes him a narcissist that he's happy of the fact that you're so desperately in love with him, you'd rather have parts of him than not at all.
But during early mornings where he'd find you sniffling into your pillow, he feels pain in his chest where his heart resides. He knows you cry over him.
He mourns the love that you two could have, but he'd rather mourn over the fantasy he's created in his head — the fantasy where he wasn't fucked up and is able to receive the kind of love you freely give, than have you be heartbroken when Simon inevitably doesn't come home one day.
"I got you, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good." He rumbles against your lips. In a split second, he'd managed to lay you out on the bed and now hovered above you.
He takes a moment to stare at your face. Wide-eyed, sweating, and panting heavily. He peppers kisses all over your face.
His little pet all worked up over sucking his cock.
He's staring at you for a few seconds, making you writhe around, but you never break his stare. It was as if the both of you were trying to commit each other's faces to memory right in this moment, not knowing when you were going to be able to see each other again.
You bring your hand up to his face, slightly wiping the sweat away from his eyes.
His eyes.
The moment he looked at you, you know you were done for. Those eyes never fail to send shivers through your whole body, as if your entire being was standing to attention when his eyes were on you.
"You're so pretty, Simon."
That seemed to break him out of his trance. He grunts slightly as if disagreeing with your statement. You sigh, knowing he's never going to see himself the way you see him.
That's okay. You'll spend as much time as he'll give you to convince him.
Simon kisses and caresses down your body as you moan from the feel of it. Teasing you with his lips and leaving small marks all over. When he gets to your thighs, he slowly raises both of them as he lightly rubs his scruffy chin on it.
"Lift those pretty legs f' me, hm?"
When you don't respond, he gently bites to get your attention and you huff. You grasp your bedsheets so tight your knuckles were going white when you feel his hot breath on you.
"Such a pretty pussy. Just for me, yeah?" He kisses your folds gently, the sensation of his scruff causing a prickly sensation, making you wail in pleasure.
"S-Simon!" You were so needy and sensitive — Simon loved that about you.
"So sensitive." He murmurs against your weeping pussy. He runs his finger across your folds, gathering the wetness. You look down at him as he tastes your wetness on his finger.
"Fuck, Simon."
"Mm, my favorite taste."
After a few moments of simply kissing all around your folds and your clit, Simon decides to stop teasing you. He presses his face in your folds and licks a stripe across it.
He repeats this action multiple times, sucking on your little bud in between. He rolls his finger around your clit as his mouth makes suckling noises. The sensation of his tongue and finger on you make you gasp loudly — your eyes rolling back.
You arch your back and don't stop chanting Simon's name like a prayer. Like he was going to disappear if you stopped calling his name.
"That's it. Let me hear what you want, pretty." He brings two of his fingers back inside your walls, lightly caressing them. He's teasing you, waiting for you to beg him to put his fingers inside of you. You break instantly, begging for him to use his thick fingers to please you.
"Please, Simon. Please, please, please. Need your fingers in me."
How could Simon deny you when you beg so sweetly?
Humming against you, he slowly sinks his fingers inside your aching walls. You sigh in contentment, unconsciously clenching on his fingers.
"Relax love, you're choking my fingers." You relax a bit at his words, trying to get your breathing back to normal. The death grip you
It seems that Simon had other ideas, because as soon as you loosened, his fingers started picking up. You start wailing again at his sudden shift in pace, grabbing his hand that was gripping your thigh.
His hand lets go of your thigh and entwines it with yours.
"Doing so good for me. You can take it, sweetheart. Be good and cum on my fingers, yeah?" At this point the both of you were panting heavily, his heavy cock still leaking precum onto the bedsheets. You didn't realize it before, but you're just now realizing how the bed is creaking from his hips.
Simon pants heavily, the room getting warmer by the second. His heavy groans makes your pussy throb around his fingers as you feel a pressure building in your lower belly.
"Si- please. So close."
Knowing you're close sends him over the edge, his tongue works faster and sloppier in tandem with his fingers. Simon moans and and your back starts to arch higher than before.
You're now making a mess on the bedsheets, wet noises can be heard loudly as it echoes throughout the entire room. You feel hot, sweaty, and suddenly everything's too much.
The lights are too bright, the noises too loud, and you feel so sensitive it burns.
"Simon, I-" You whine, legs starting to thrash as Simon pulled his fingers away to hold your legs. You feel your nerves lighting awake as you feel every single sensation as he sinks his tongue inside.
"Love you Si, love you so much. I'm—" Your body seizes and freezes for a moment and a little flick of his tongue against your bud makes you lose it. Your orgasm washes through you like a crashing wave, causing you to tremble in his hold and let out gasps as you struggle to breath normally and let your legs fall.
Simon lets you catch your breath as he lifts himself up, still hard. You rest your eyes on him and you see him lick his lips — his entire mouth and chin shiny with your slick.
He hovers above you once more, leaning down to give you a kiss. You reach up enthusiastically, pulling him down by his neck. He grunts at the sudden force as you slant your lips against his. It's messy, his lips slick with spit and yours with a small trace of drool. The kiss is desperate, teeth knocking into each other more than once.
It goes on for a while before Simon starts to pull back. Before he's successful, you wrap both your legs around his waist and Simon gasps at the sensation of his cock pressed against your slick.
"Need you inside, Simon. Want you in me." Murmuring against his lips, your hand desperately wanders down his sweaty body and grips his cock.
He lets out a grunt at the sudden warmth enveloping him and is unable to control as his hips involuntarily thrust forward.
"Yeah? You want my cock? Take it, sweetheart. It's all yours." He watches in a daze as you slowly align him with you. The moment he feels his tip rub on your slippery folds, he lets out a whimper.
"Please Si.." You whisper to him. "Wanna feel you inside me so bad." Simon coos at you, seeing you beg him to fuck you never fails to make his brain circuit for a few seconds.
He teases you a few seconds longer, just to hear you beg more for him. He begins to feel bad when you start humping the air in hopes of getting his head inside you.
You're babbling incoherently now, eyes closed, hands wandering all over Simon's body. He gives you mercy and starts to push inside your throbbing hole. It takes a bit of time, but when his head manages to push through, he's already able to feel your walls pulsate around him.
"Oh, sweetheart. So needy f' me." He's also barely coherent, his eyes focused on his cock deeper inside your tight hole. "What are you gonna do when I'm gone, hm? Who's gonna fuck you this good?" Simon barely realizes what he's saying until he's spoken them. The thought of someone else fucking you when he's gone lights a fire inside him.
"Oh, fuck." His cock is fully in you now and you can feel every vein pulsating inside of you. Your hands are gripping Simon harder, possibly leaving red marks all over his body — you relish in the thought of Simon looking in the mirror and seeing the marks you left on him. "No one, Si. No one's gonna fuck me as good as you. Don' want you to go. Want you here with me." Your mouth hangs open uselessly, overwhelmed with the pressure of Simon in you.
Hearing you admit so openly you weren't going to fuck anyone else drives Simon even crazier. You realize now how much of an impact your words have on Simon when he starts pounding your poor pussy that was still sensitive.
"Yeah? That's right, sweetheart. No one can fuck you like I can." It takes him a few seconds to get his words out, huffing above you. You can barely hear what he's saying, ears ringing from the blinding white, hot pleasure coursing through your entire body. Your hands try gripping him as long as you can but his thrusts are causing your body to jostle relentlessly, and now your arms flail helplessly before holding onto the headboard.
Simon is no longer on his forearm, his head resting in the crook of your neck as his hands grip your waist. You're sure his hands are going to leave prints in the morning from how hard he's gripping you.
You don't mind at all.
Your brain feels foggy, only speaking Simon's name over and over again. Simon's no better than you, grunting and groaning at every thrust that leads him deeper into your hole.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck." He moans. "So good for me, so sweet for me." Your legs no longer have the energy to stay corded behind his back, limping helplessly beside you as Simon fucks you.
You feel another orgasm creeping up on you as your walls begin to clench around Simon's cock. Simon hisses at the feeling, leaning up to look at your cream gathering at the base of him. He looks up to the ceiling, gasping in pleasure.
"Si, I'm so close, I-" He brings his head down to give you a chaste kiss before pulling away, nose touching yours and staring into your eyes.
"Let go f' me, sweetheart. Gonna cum on my cock and be good?" He coaxes you, one of his hands going to your face. You don't even realize you're crying until Simon wipes your tears away.
You can't take it anymore, the loving look in his eyes and feeling him inside you breaks you.
"Love you so much, Si. I love you so fucking much." You cry out to him as you're finally sent over the edge. You wail loudly, back arching as Simon continues to thrust at a slower pace, going deeper than before.
"God, fuck. I love you, I love you. Fuck." He continues to mumble against your neck. Your jaw goes slack and another orgasm seizes your body as you clench and gush all over him.
His thighs are drenched from your slick and when he feels your walls pulsing repeatedly over him, he feels shivers all over his body and he cums.
The blinding pleasure takes him off guard, thighs shaking from the sheer force. He continues thrusting shallowly, dragging out his orgasm as his cum fills up your hole to the brim.
He gasps and bites down on your neck, not stopping until he's fully come down from his high.
You're shell shocked, one hand over your eyes as you thinking about what just transpired. This was nothing like before. He'd never said 'I love you', ever. You take a moment to regain your thoughts, heart thumping wildly.
By this point, your hopes had soared like never before, the small part of you that still believes you can have something with Simon begins crawling out of you — coming back alive.
"Si-" You start as you catch your breath and lift your head slightly to look at him.
"Sorry." He mumbles lifting himself from your body, plopping himself on the pillow beside you.
There's nothing but silence for a few minutes. A part of you wants nothing more than to confront him, get him to face his feelings. But you know Simon and that if you did that, he'd panic.
So, you wait. And wait. And wait.
Until he coughs.
"I have to go. Supposed to meet the boys in an hour." He grumbles, fumbling around to get himself off the bed and find his clothes.
Your heart breaks. Was he really going to go away for a few months without talking about what just happened? You had to make a choice. Either speak now or forever hold your peace.
"Simon." You speak with such a finality in your tone that it renders Simon frozen. He pauses putting his pants back on and stares up at you, terrified.
"I love you." You say, loud and clear. You've told him you loved him in the throes of passion and in the sleepy haze of early mornings, but never when both of you were wide awake. Like a secret that's only meant to be whispered so as to not let it get snuffed out.
You see his eyes widen for a fraction of a second. He seems to debate what he wants to say. You badly wish for him to just say something, anything at all.
He doesn't.
Simon continues to put on his pants and slip his shirt over his head. Once he finally gains the courage to look at you once more, he had to clear his throat. The forlorn look on your face would haunt him until the day he dies.
He knows you love him so deeply and honestly, that there was no questioning your devotion to him. He knows that you feel for him so deeply, you'd rather hurt yourself over and over than let him go.
But he's also once harbored care and affection to someone, fighting side-by-side with someone he thought was going to never stop speaking gibberish in his ear.
If Simon almost couldn't survive losing Johnny, there was no way you were going to survive losing him.
With his heart in his throat, Simon stares at you, fighting back tears that threaten to escape. God, he wants to kiss you. He wants to kiss you and tell you he loves you more than anything in this world. That he'd fight through any battlefield with broken limbs just to come home to you. But he knows he can't give you that promise. That promise that he's going to die of old age with you.
He expects you to cry or scream, but nothing in the world would be able to heal the way Simon's heart breaks when you only give him a sad smile.
"That's okay. I know you're not selfish enough to love me back."
He knows he should just leave, but he can't help himself from hurting you once more. Simon steps forward, cradles your head in his hands and lay a kiss atop your head.
And then, he leaves.
2K notes · View notes
mausinly · 5 months
Text
i wanna see these big scary men get all flustered, give em a taste of their own medicine
Thinking about cod men with the most s/o of all time that is just so so tender with them and is so soft and kisses them so so good just like they deserve.
Thinking about cod men with an s/o that doesn't hesitate to tell them how pretty they are and will hold and caress them in a heartbeat, watching as their big bad military man melts in their arms.
Thinking about cod men that feel tears brim their eyes as their darling cups his head in their hands, their thumbs ever so gently brushing over his cheeks as they pepper kisses all over his face.
Their s/o makes sure to kiss every scar, every blemish and imperfection, everywhere but his lips until he murmurs how much of a tease his darling is. Only for their lips to meet in the most tender, passionate kiss he's ever received in his life, followed by loving whispers in the dark of night only for him to hear.
3K notes · View notes
heartless-tate · 3 months
Text
Notice me! | Azriel X Freader
Tumblr media
summary; Azriel courting an oblivious reader.
a/n; Heyy! Just a little fic of being courted by Azriel. And you not being very aware of it. Hope you enjoy!
content/trigger warnings; knife, food, meat?, cussing, kissing, no use y/n, hint towards lust feeling, Azriel pining, Armen being sassy, FEM reader (if you’d like me to make a another post with male reader, message me!) she/her pronouns for reader, thunderstorm mention and I think that’s it. If I missed something, feel free to message me on it! 💝
word count: 3.1k. |. Part two
Tumblr media
A plate clattered against the table causing your attention to turn to the man in front of you.
You met his gaze as he waited for you to try his new dish, his eyes seeming to shine as the sun hit his eyes. You swear he always seemed to be effortlessly beautiful. It was angering in some ways, you had even seen him wake up looking like a god. No. Better than a god. It didn’t matter if you spent an hour in the mirror, swiping various products of different expenses on your face; the result would be the same. The same boring face you saw everyday.
A wonderful smell wafted from the plate, causing your empty stomach to growl loud enough to shake the mountains. The shadowsinger smirked, pushing the plate of food closer to you with a gentleness most men didn’t have. Your face flushed with embarrassment, your hands instinctively coming to paw at your stomach, hoping it would stop. Your eyes wandered down to the plate where a meal sat.
“I haven’t made this before. I wanted you to be the first to try it.” He spoke with every ounce of grace and elegance a god would have. His hands grasped the seat across from you, pulling it out and taking a seat. His wings shifted until finding a comfortable position in the chair. You nodded in response, picking the fork up before taking in the rather- gracious portion of food he had made for you.
A ribeye steak bigger than your hand sat on the plate. Seasoning of different kinds were smothered on it, and the smell of butter consumed your senses. Your mouth watered in response. Beside it were two sides. Your favorites.
Armen smirked from where she sat beside you, watching as you lifted the steak knife and fork. You were so oblivious. She had been watching for the last few years as Azriel desperately chased after you, and you never seemed to even notice. It was amusing. He has spent hours staring at you, and you never realized. And if she pointed it out, you just assumed you had something on your face. She knew he was growing restless. Not tired of you, but tired of your complete oblivion. These days he seemed ready to scream from the top of the roof that he loved you.
Azriel’s scarred hand clutched at your wrist. He gently took the knife and fork away from you, before grabbing your plate and proceeding to cut your steak into bite sized pieces. Armen snickered from where she sat, resulting in a glare from Azriel.
“Oh- Azriel I can do that-“ You started.
“I know you can.” He responded. He didn’t give back your plate until your steak was cut into bite sized pieces for you. He watched you place the first bite of steak into your mouth.
Your eyes rolled back and you let out a hum of approval, chewing the food. The flavor was delicious, and it was quite easily the best steak you had ever tasted in your life. It wasn’t too buttery. Or too seasoned. It was just right. The meat was tender.
Azriel’s wings rustled at your hum. His face shined with pure male pride. His eyes never left you once while you chewed and swallowed. He stood, taking the steak knife that was no longer needed into the kitchen.
Armen followed after him. He sat the knife in the sink, letting the house do its magic before turning his attention to Armen.
“You’re like a love sick puppy.”
“My love life isn’t your business.” Azriel responded, his face tight. His words were low, ensuring you couldn’t hear.
“Hm. All I’m saying is your ‘courting’ isn’t going to work.” Armen said, picking at her nail leisurely. She was like a cat. Her piercing eyes watched as Azriel’s eyes narrowed at her with a scowl. Before he could comment more, Armen spoke again.
“She’s oblivious. It doesn’t matter if you fix her food, or leave her favorite pastries everywhere so she finds them, she won’t get the hint. Literally. I’m getting seasonal allergies from the amount of flowers you’ve left for her everywhere in this house.Seriously, this place is covered in flowers. Either start professing love or drop this little crush.” She growled out, walking out of the kitchen.
Azriel stayed silent before whispering,“It’s not little.”
Tumblr media
“Yeah, don’t let me forget to grab a few early starfall gifts.” Mor said. You groaned loudly, rubbing your temples. Even the idea of her gifts made you want to cry. Her starfall gift for you these past few years have been a collection of ridiculously fuzzy socks. Every.Year.
Of course you were grateful, but everyone knew Mor’s gifts weren’t particularly good. You now had a drawer filled with fuzzy and odd colored socks.
Velaris was bustling today. Fae of all kids roamed the streets, some tending to their shops. Kids ran through the streets playing games. Everyone was out enjoying the sunny day. You and Mor decided to go shopping to pick up a few items. Your eyes wandered back down to your list, a few more candles, a book or two, and some lotion.
“Starfall gifts? I don’t think you need to shop this early for them-“
“Nonsense! It’s never too early to do gift shopping!” Mor said, cutting you off. You sighed and shook your head knowing it was hopeless to argue with her.
After a few trips to some stores, you both ended up getting lunch at Rita’s. You ordered a milkshake- apparently a new creation of a cold drink? None less, whatever they were, everyone had been going crazy over them in Velaris. And of course you also got your favorite meal. Mor ordered practically half the menu, content to eat her heart out. You didn’t blame her- food was good.
As your plates were sat down by the waitress, Mor eyed your food with a questioning look. Your eyebrows raised in confusion. “What? You’re looking at my food weird.”
“Oh. Well I’m just surprised to see you ordering a meal here. You know Azriel is gonna harp if you don’t eat his food.” Mor responded, shoveling food into her mouth as if she’d starve.
“Huh?” You countered.
Mor finished her food before rolling her eyes. She sighed deeply as if you had troubled her. “You know..” she said, waving her hands as if that would solve your confusion. When you raised your eyebrows with a puzzled face, she put her fork down.
“You know- when you eat something someone else cooked or you’re not hungry, and he’s cooked you a meal. And you refuse it- he gets all huffy and puffy! Like a broody motherhen.” She continued.
“He doesn’t even fix me food that often-“ you argued.
“Oh please! Breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Full course meal on the table for you. If only someone loved me that much.” Mor said, picking her fork back up. “Those meals weren’t from the house hun. All I’m saying is maybe you should pay more attention.”
For the rest of the meal, you both sat in silence as you pondered over her words.
Tumblr media
Cassian laughed  as you entered from the hallway. His eyes shined with amusement as you waddled to the counter with your shopping bags.
The sound was enough to draw a curious Azriel to the room. He immediately grabbed all your bags despite your complaints, setting them on the table. He nodded at you in response when you thanked him.
“I thought you were only shopping for a few things.” Cassian stated. He stood casually leaned against the table with a drink in his left hand. Azriel stood to your left, his wings expanded. His eyes were keen and watchful. You doubted he ever missed a single detail. His skin glistened with sweat, a musky bourbon scent coming from him. Cassian’s skin was sweaty too, evidence of them training together earlier in the day.
“Well, the candle store had a buy two get five for free deal. So I bought  four and got ten for free! Cauldron I love Velaris!” You squealed, and Azriel smirked knowingly. He had taken note of your recent obsession with buying candles. Cassian shook his head.
Cassian's face lit up with surprise as you handed him two candles. “So I got one for everyone else. This one smells like leather and the other vanilla. I figured you’d like it Cas.” You continued. He nodded in thanks. You turned to Azriel.
“I got you this candle because I know you love blueberries. And this one is supposed to smell like rainy days and lightning. And this one is books and bourbon!”
Azriel’s eyes never looked down to the candles you had shoved in his arms. His eyes stayed on your face as you happily ranted about the candles. When you finished and looked back up to his face, he had a soft look. It was one you don’t think you’ve seen him use before. His eyes were soft and looked like pools of honey, and his smile was gentle.
You watched as he sat down the candles on the table and turned back to you. “They’re perfect.” He responded. He was so memorizing. You just knew whoever he ended up with would be content. You struggled taking your eyes from him.Cassian growled playfully.
“Hey! Unfair! He got three candles! I only got-“
Cassian was cut off by Mor smacking him on the back of the head as she trotted to the kitchen. She had a lot of leftovers to put away. Azriel gave him a quick glare, silencing him.
You noticed he was wearing all his leathers, and siphons. His shadows whirled leisurely around his shoulders and wings. Azriel watched as your eyes creased in confusion. He sighed. He couldn’t help but feel a shimmer of hope at the fact you had gotten him more candles than Cassian.
“Rhysand sent me on a mission, I’ll be gone for a few days most likely. I’m going to spy on the human queens and make sure all is well there.” He admitted. He watched as your face fell. You quickly smiled again and nodded. His heart thumped like a hammer in his chest. Did you care? Would you miss him like he always missed you? He wondered if you couldn’t sleep like he couldn’t when he was away from you.
“Oh. I see. Be safe.” You responded, nodding slowly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the feeling in your chest. You had never felt it before. You wondered why all of a sudden you felt this way about him leaving.
His eyes softened even more. “I leave in an hour or two.” He whispered, head tilting to catch your eyes once more. Cassian had disappeared from the room all of a sudden, him and Mor talking loudly about dumb things in the kitchen. Leaving you and Azriel alone. “Let me cook you dinner before I leave.”
His eyebrows furrowed this time as you shook your head no. His smile dropped. He looked like a kicked puppy almost-
“I ate lunch with Mor.” You explained. Your explanation didn’t seem to comfort him as he shook his head in response.
“That was lunch. It’s time for dinner.” Azriel said firmly.
Your mind went back to Mor’s words. Pay more attention…what did she mean? What was there to pay attention to? Azriel cooked for everyone- right..? Your mind raced over your memories, trying to think of a single time you had seen Azriel set a plate down for one of the others.
“Alright then, fix me dinner Azriel.” You responded. Azriel smiled, pleased. His right wing flared, draping over your back. “Follow me.” He said, leading the way into the kitchen. His wing was warm against your back, as it guided you beside him. It was much larger than  you were, towering over your head. As you entered the kitchen, Cassian and Mor immediately scampered out shouting something about extra training.
You watched Azriel move around the kitchen in a graceful dance of grabbing pans and pots. He kept his wings tucked in, to keep them from banging against counters and tables. His hair was messy from training, or like he had ran his hands through it more then once. But it never failed to frame his face. You watched as a few shadows dart around, grabbing various spices and ingredients for whatever new dish he’d make tonight. He set a pan down on the stove before turning to you.
His scarred hands gently grasped your hips, lifting you up effortlessly. He sat you on an empty space on the counter. He huffed a laugh at your squeak of shock. He patted one of your thighs gently before leaving your side and returning to his pan.
Your face flushed with embarrassment. He had lifted you as if you weighed nothing, showcasing his obvious strength. Everytime he touched you with his beautiful hands, it felt like everything stopped. As if the world had slowed to let you enjoy the moment. Your hands wrapped around your stomach, wondering what this weird feeling that had overcome you meant.
He moved swiftly, chopping ingredients and throwing things in various pots and pans. You quickly realized by smell alone he was making your comfort food. You remembered the night a storm had rolled in. Usually thunder and lightning didn’t scare you- but this was different. The booms and flashes were intense, shaking the ground and keeping you from sleep. You had stumbled to the house library in an attempt to distract yourself. But you only found Azriel instead. He had scented your obvious distress and took action immediately. He helped you settle on the couch with cushions and blankets before asking what a comfort food was. A good 15 minutes later he returned with a plate.
You don’t remember much pass that, you just remember becoming tired and sleepily. You remember feeling warm all of a sudden and then you woke up in your bed that morning.
“It’s almost done.” Azriel spoke, bringing you back from your memories. His eyes were distant as if he too was remembering that same night.
You smiled and thanked him as he handed you your bowl and a spoon. He made himself a bowl too. He took your bowl from his hands and sat it down, before grabbing you and setting you back on the floor. His hands stayed on your hips until he was sure you were balanced. He guided you to the sitting room with a fire.
Azriel didn’t eat until you took your first bite, ensuring you liked it. And of course, you did. It was warm, and comforting, like a hug in your mouth. It soothed your soul in ways nothing else could, the flavors easing your body from any previous aches. Azriel had never made a bad meal before. You both ate in silence together, with the comforting crackle of the fire and warming food. But as the time passed, you knew it came time for him to leave.
Your bowls sat on the coffee table. Both finished. The house made them disappear, taking care of them on its own. You were always amazed by its magic.
Your head snapped to Azriel as he stood. He sighed, looking at the clock on the wall. His eyebrows were furrowed and he almost looked like he wanted to chain himself to the wall before even considering leaving. He turned to your sitting form. His shadows seemed to move more quickly and sharper around his shoulders.
“It’s time for me to leave.” He whispered. He watched as you nodded solemnly. You smiled, but he knew it didn’t reach your eyes.
“Thank you for the meal.”
Tumblr media
You watched as Cassian hugged Azriel in goodbye, and Mor nod as her own way of saying goodbye. Azriel had taken his candles to his room earlier, before joining everyone in the hallway. When one left for more then a day, you all said proper goodbyes.
Azriel turned to you, walking swiftly. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his big biceps practically squeezing the life out of you. He practically had to hold himself back from purring when your arms wrapped around his neck in return. Everything darkened as his wings cocooned you. His wings blocked out the noises of the others, leaving just you and him. His head found solace in your neck. His scent overwhelmed your senses in a good way. Before you had time to question Azriel being touchy, Cassian yelled,
“Ok! Ok! We get it, Azriel. Let go of her before you suffocate her.”
Azriel lifted his head, and his wings dropped. His eyes stayed latched on yours. A few seconds passed before he tore his eyes away and scowled at Cassian. His teeth bared in silent warning. Cassian backed down and turned to have conversation with the others. Azriel released you from his grip.
“I’ll be back soon. Don’t starve. And I left some flowers on your nightstand. I hope you don’t mind.” He whispered to you, fiddling with his hands like a nervous school boy. Your eyes lit up and you smiled gently.
“Thank you Azriel. Goodbye.” You whispered back in response. His smile turned upside down.
“I told you, call me Az. Or whatever you want- just not my full name. We’re closer than that.” He said in a growl like tone. He watched as you nodded your head.
It was time for him to leave now. He sighed deeply. The others had gone silent watching the scene with interest. But he didn’t seem to care.
He leaned down to your height, his hands grasping at your chin. He turned your head before leaving a gentle but firm kiss on the side of your cheek. “Sleep well tonight.” He whispered before pulling away. You stood in shock at the door to the balcony, as he said his last goodbyes. He waved in an almost shy way at you before taking flight.
You stood still, flabbergasted at what had happened. Slowly your hand rose to your cheek.
Realization dawned on you- he hadn’t ever fixed food for anyone else other than you.
Tumblr media
a/n; hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want part two! 🌙
2K notes · View notes
midnightcrw · 8 months
Text
Simon sits in the bathtub, his scars and burn marks painting his back. You sit behind him, gently washing away the grime, feeling his body tense under your touch.
His head hangs low, fingers fumbling nervously, as if resisting the comfort of being cared for.
In a tender moment, you press a soft kiss to his shoulder, and he instinctively shuts his eyes, as if running from the warmth.
"Thank you," he murmurs.
The corners of your lips lift up slightly as you continue to wash away the grime from his body. You knew how difficult it was for Simon to thank others, or even accept a little bit of kindness.
You feel his muscles relax, and his tenseness fade as your fingers make slow, circular motions around his body.
You notice subtle changes in his breathing pattern and feel him lean into your touch. His fingers reach for the sides of the tub, and you begin to shampoo his hair, working through all the knots and tangles to leave it soft and shiny.
It was the first time that you helped him bathe, and he needed it. Simon had come in, barely being able to hold himself up after his mission.
For him, this is a strange experience, but he relaxes as you work. For you, you enjoy the feeling of him finally opening up to you and allowing you to see a softer side of him.
He's not used to being vulnerable with anyone, but as you clean him, you feel him becoming more comfortable with someone so close and caring, and you smile at the realization of how much he trusts you.
7K notes · View notes
stargirlrchive · 7 months
Text
── KINKTOBER DAY THREE
cock-warming w/ könig ─ afab!reader
NSFW ✩ MINORS DNI
KINKTOBER MASTERLIST ✩ GENERAL MASTERLIST
Tumblr media
you weren’t sure what it was but you had been craving intimacy from könig far more than usual. he had always been so affectionate with you but right now it felt that everyone was pulling you two apart. your lives dragging the two of you in different directions and it was driving you wild.
if könig noticed how overly affectionate you had been, he didn’t mention it. tonight was a rare occasion where the both of you had off. slipping into the covers together and he was fast asleep. but your mind wouldn’t shut off.
you tossed and turned, until you settled on watching könig sleep. your eyes taking in the strong muscles of his arms and back, and all the scars that had littered his body.
you tried to suppress the lewd thoughts running through your mind, but felt the familiar ache between your thighs begin to form. you inched closer to him, trying to squirm your way under him to be closer. a small grunt left his mouth as he turned to look at you. his eyes filled with exhaustion and voice thick with sleep. “leibling, are you alright?”
you only gave him a short hum, still trying to weasel your way under him. his massive hands gripped at your waist to stop you, frowning gently at you. “you’ve been tossing and turning all night. what’s wrong?”
your eyes watered softly at his tone of voice, it was so soft and confused, or maybe it was the question itself but your face buried itself into his neck before he could stop you.
könig was quick to sit up, wrapping his arms around you to bring you with him. “engel, talk to me. please.”
his fingers ran through your hair, trying to comfort you as he pressed his lips to your shoulder. pressing soft kisses but his stubble gently scratching against your skin had shivers running down your back.
“i just miss you. miss being close to you.”
his hands had made their way to your waist as he gently squeezed them. his lips trailing over your neck, nipping gently before making his way to your lips. “you want to be close to me, leibling? you’re already sitting on my lap.”
you frowned up at him, “wanna be closer.”
his fingers gently tightened around your hips, “yeah?”
you answered him with a short nod and he kissed you desperately. his tongue making its way into your mouth as he raised your hips.
roughly tugging on his boxers after removing your panties. your eyes were glued to the way his fingers wrapped around his cock.
he gave a few soft tugs and he hardened up instantly, gently bringing your hips down again.
the head of his cock running through your folds and tapping against your pulsing clit a few times. your face flushed as you whined out his name, “könig-”
he lined himself up with your entrance, sinking you down slowly onto his length. “oh, fuck.”
you were breathless by the time you had fully sank down onto him. könig’s hands making their way down your spine to pull you closer. “so warm, schatz. you feel so good.”
your face tucked into his neck once more as he maneuvered the two of you down. your chest flush again his, using his collar bone as your pillow with his cock fully sheathed inside of you. you felt so full, so connected and the tension in your body eased away.
your eyes began to grow heavy, your breathing sinking up with könig’s as his heartbeat lulled you to sleep.
Tumblr media
taglist: @trashfox @king-julian6201 @cyberfreaky @tojisun @justateenageslut @rilamoon @lazystorycollector @slutforjake @yeoldedumbslut @dilfdotgov @httpsmama @punk-22 @youcraveet @moxiz @hisa-plush @alastairheir @ra-im @ifellinthebong @darlingvinny @aeplern @yomamaisme @tallmanlover @screamingoverfiction @mixling-blog @definitelynotdesti ; lmk if you would like to be tagged <3
6K notes · View notes
obsessivevoidkitten · 7 months
Text
Alien Escape
Male Alien Yandere × Gender Neutral Reader
(CW: Noncon, oviposition, breeding, overstimulation, crying, fear, minor character death, weird alien dick, minor mentions of medical experimentation (NOT on reader), alien, implied abduction, general yandere behavior)
Word Count: 680
(Just something I typed up on my phone because it was in my head and demanded to be written, a nice little mini-fic. Hope you enjoy!)
Tears streamed down your face, and your legs burned and ached from running so fast through the labyrinthine halls. Your frenzied footsteps on the cold tile floor were completely drowned out by the incessant blaring of the alarms.
When you slipped and broke the containment field, you had doomed everyone.
At last, you had made it to the exit. But it was covered by a heavier metal door with no handle.
Of course. The entire site was on lockdown now.
Maybe you could double back and hide in one of the abandoned rooms. If they weren't sealed off by now, too.
You ran off down a side corridor, but it was a dead end. Maybe it wouldn't come this way since it wasn't the way out.
Suddenly, the alarms and all the lights turned off. Probably sucked dry due to the escaped alien's ability to absorb energy.
You huddled into a corner in the darkness, nothing visible.
Then you saw light. Coming from far down the hall. The pale sickly green glow of the alien slowly approaching.
When he entered your field of view fully you gasped. He had a struggling Colonel Hughs in his arms, a hand over his mouth.
The alien slowly walked towards you and as he did so, he impaled Hughs with a spike that protruded from his wrists causing the colonel to rapidly age before turning to dust.
The alien had absorbed his life force.
It was humanoid, but had no eyes, nose, or mouth. Scars from "research" littered his body. Its wrist spike retracted back into itself as it slowly stepped towards you.
His strange ribbed cock poking out of his genital slit and lengthening as he approached.
It looked slimy and writhed as if with a will of its own. All while glowing with the same green light the rest of his body did.
You cowered and sobbed. You weren't ready to die. You weren't ready to die. You weren't ready to die.
And you weren't going to.
The alien had no intention to hurt you. He wanted you to be his incubator.
Out of all the people in the facility you were the only one he sensed any sympathy from. And no ill will. He only sensed regret and anxiety whenever your gaze landed on him.
It was the only modicum of kindness he experienced while being captured, contained, and experimented on.
He clung to it, focused on it. It was a lifeline for him.
And when you broke the containment unit he was housed in, he was convinced you had been purposefully trying to free him.
As he loomed over you, he could sense your fear. He gently wiped your tears away with his prehensile cock before pulling you up, turning you around, and pulling your pants down.
Yes~
This would do perfectly as a receptacle for his egg.
You begged and babbled, sure that he was about to turn you into dust.
When his slimy dick worked its way into you the noises you were making progressed into screams.
He put his hands carefully on your fragile human hips as his priggle writhed all around inside you, causing you to squirm and moan involuntarily in pleasure.
If he had a mouth your alien mate would have cooed at that sound.
The alien's dick molded itself to your inside perfectly, to kiss every little fold of your intimate depths, leaking viscous goo as it did so.
After your tenth forced orgasm from your otherworldly lover your legs finally gave out and he had to hold you close as he pumped one final time into you.
He deposited a large egg inside causing your tummy to bulge out, quite beautifully in his opinion.
The creature put his hand on your head and used his abilities to make you fell into a well earned sleep.
Green slime leaked from your entrance and down your legs when he pulled out of you.
It was a good thing you were a janitor, because once he had you back on his home world you'd be dealing with this mess daily.
4K notes · View notes
saetoru · 10 months
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。09:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.
contents. manga spoilers, satoru keeps the scars bc that’s character development ok, post canon, insecure! gojo / reverse comfort, you sit on his lap, ig angst to fluff, embarrassingly cheesy look away pls :,)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
satoru, since he’s come home with those scars, has always evaded your hand. you’ve tried a few times, have reached out to cup those cheeks you miss holding—but he’s managed to grab your hand and kiss it every time.
it’s smooth—like everything else he does, satoru dodges your touch smoothly. with an easy grin. with a teasing glint. it’s slick and all too natural, and almost undetectable. but you know him better. you know him better than anyone has had the pleasure of knowing him, you like to think. and you know that satoru doesn’t let your hand meet his cheek, not even the edge of his jaw, on purpose.
“good morning,” you smile, reaching forward to lay a hand over his face. satoru, with his eyes still closed (as expected), grabs your hand and plants a soft kiss to the back as he hums.
you’re almost certain he can sense the way your lips tug into a frown.
“mornin’ sweetheart,” he says lowly, “watching me sleep? that’s a bit creepy,” he teases.
“i can’t help it,” you hum, “you’re too handsome.”
this is rare—giving satoru compliments easily is rare. usually, you make him work for them, keep him waiting on the tips of toes before finally giving him that praise you know will go straight to his inflated ego. but sometimes, like now, you think he deserves to hear it—unfiltered and raw and filled with truth.
satoru is handsome. always has been. always will be.
“aw,” he cracks an eye open, “maybe i should let myself get scratched up a bit more. maybe you’ll talk nice to me more often.”
“i mean it, toru,” you frown, insisting, “you’re handsome. so handsome.”
your hand reaches for his face again. he turns his head this time, feigning a yawn as he stretches before sitting up. there’s a slight bit of tension in the air now, his lips tighter in his smile as he hums before turning to you and poking your nose.
“well, aren’t you sweet,” he smiles almost bitterly.
you haven’t seen his smile reach his eyes for a while. he doesn’t meet your gaze through the mirror in the mornings as you brush your teeth together anymore, doesn’t wink at your reflection and make you roll your eyes. he doesn’t spam your camera roll with pictures of himself anymore when you’re in the bathroom, doesn’t leave you with those silly faces and smug grins that make good wallpapers. he doesn’t even crack those annoying jokes anymore, doesn’t whine for you to admit he’s the most handsome guy you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting as his face digs into your neck.
instead, satoru dodges your touch. he kisses you briefer these days, avoids looking in the mirror, smiles like he has to—not like he finds a reason to.
“you don’t believe me?” you ask gently, furrowing your brows, “you know i’d never lie to you.”
“i didn’t say that, did i?” he asks, waving a hand casually. “c’mon let’s go brush our teeth. you don’t wanna kill me with that morning breath do you—”
“satoru, you’re still handsome, you know,” you say gently. you decide to rip the bandaid off as you add, “even with these.”
for the first time, your hand manages to reach for his face without him pulling away. you think it’s more out of surprise than anything, that it’s because he wasn’t expecting you to be so straightforward instead of trying to be subtle like usual. for a second, you think he might just put his infinity up—but he doesn’t ever. not around you.
but you can see it, the way his knuckles twitch a little like he’s clenching them. the way he’s so still, it’s almost like he’s willing himself not to tense. the way he doesn’t even lean into your touch like he always does.
he doesn’t want your hand on his face, but you stroke a thumb over a scar anyway, cupping his cheek as you study his face up close.
it’s still him—still satoru with that sharp nose and those rosy cheeks, still satoru with those long lashes and perfect jawline. there’s rough, marred bits of skin that meet soft, supple ones. you feel over the dips of where each scar starts slowly, committing each one to memory.
they’re newer parts of him, ones you don’t know very well yet, ones that remind you of the ugliest parts of the world—but they’re a part of satoru now, and anything that’s a part of satoru can never be ugly. no matter where they come from, no matter what they’re a reminder of.
not if it’s him.
“you think so?” he asks with a tight grin, “is my money maker still money making?”
“don’t be greedy,” you quip, “you have plenty of money.” and then, softly, you add, “but i’d pay a good fortune or two to wake up to this every day.”
“good thing i give it to you for free,” he hums, “i’m generous, you know?”
“what a catch,” you grin, “generous, strong, rich,” you list, making an amused grin stretch across his lips, “handsome,” you add. his smile falters a bit at that. “satoru, i’m serious.”
“oh, i love when you get all serious,” he whistles. he’s deflecting—you expect him to, but you’re not backing down. one leg swings over his hips, and then you’re climbing onto his lap, right there where he can’t avoid you. but he finds his attention to your lips, still smooth as ever as he avoids meeting your eyes.
“satoru—”
“oh? you want to do this already? it’s barely—” he makes a show of glancing at the clock before turning back to you with a suggestive grin, “—nine am. but i guess we can have a little fun before—”
“i don’t care about these, you know,” you murmur, pulling your head back when he leans in for a kiss. your finger lightly traces the scar by his left cheekbone, making him frown.
“see? you’re basically admitting you have to look past them,” he groans frustratedly—it’s the first time satoru’s acknowledges his scars. it’s the first time he’s finally let himself look upset without trying to hide it behind a forced grin and a dry chuckle.
“i don’t,” you frown, “sure, they’re new,” you admit softly, “and i don’t like being reminded you got hurt. but they’re not ugly—you’re always pretty.”
“there’s so many,” he mumbles, “they’re everywhere.”
“i think they’re cool,” you shrug, “they make you look tougher. less like a spoiled princess.”
“hey,” he pouts, “i’m not spoiled.”
“you’re a bit spoiled,” you chuckle, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck—his lips quirk up, and you can’t help but notice how real it looks for once. “but i suppose you deserve it. not because you’re handsome though. because you deserve good things—just for being you,” you insist.
his lips are quivering a bit, and he’s blinking faster now. you ignore it, though, taking your sweet time as you lean down and kiss along the edges of every scar on his face, tracing your lips along where the old skin meets new.
“that’s cheesy,” he mutters, “now you sound like a therapist.”
“i mean it,” you say firmly, “and i meant it when i said you’re handsome too.“
“handsomest guy you’ve ever met, right?” he bats his lashes—they’re a bit hopeful, though, and you smile as you gently kiss the corner of his mouth before nodding.
“definitely,” you nod, “you’re the prettiest.”
“am i?” he grins, “now i’m more spoiled. who’s fault is that really?”
“i’ll allow it for today,” you snort, “today you can be spoiled. i’ll humble you tomorrow.”
“we’ll see,” he hums.
your hands cup his cheeks as you lean down for a kiss, and satoru’s hands clasp over them gently, holding them in place—and when you kiss him delicately, like the sun meets the moon as your lips touch, like your world revolves around him as you pull him closer, you think satoru is unfairly handsome.
and you’ll have to remind him that a bit more often.
Tumblr media
he’s my liddol sourpatch :(
7K notes · View notes
sttoru · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. zayne is quite the early bird and loves to appreciate the sight of your sleeping self next to him. he might even tease you a bit.
wc. 1.2k
note. first love and deepspace fic, kinda nervous. lmk what you think of my characterisation of zayne.
tags. zayne x female reader. fluff. just zayne being a secret softie for you. reader gets called ‘sweetheart, dear / pretty, beautiful’.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
it’s early. way too early for your body to properly function. the birds haven’t chirped yet and neither has the sun shown itself—it’s early, but zayne is up. he couldn’t fall back asleep once he had awoken and thus decided to stay up.
“hah, sleepyhead,” zayne comments through a deep sigh. he’s laying on his side, facing you. his eyes are completely focused on your appearance; from your messy bed hair to the drop of drool forming at the corner of your mouth. it’s all rather endearing.
your boyfriend reaches a scarred hand towards you, though is quick to retract it after some hesitation. he does not want to interrupt your slumber. you need your rest; especially after your hard shift as a hunter the day before.
and because you finally decided to follow his advice as your primary care physician. sleep is important for your health.
zayne’s protective instincts are begging him to embrace you—to protect you against the cold. you just look so vulnerable next to him.
though, his heart doesn’t agree. there are risks to such an action; you waking up this early and not getting your recommended seven hours of sleep is one of them. he decides not to do anything. . . for now.
zayne checks his phone to kill some time. no missed calls nor texts. it’s unusual for the surgeon to not be bombarded with calls and such, though it’s a pleasant change of pace.
his eyes dart back to your face again. no matter how many times he tries to distract himself from you, his focus always finds its way back to you. it’s like he’s subconsciously checking to see if you’re up or not.
zayne wishes to witness your face as it lights up the moment you lock eyes. to see your adorable smile that makes his heart flutter. to hold you close, cuddle with you and kiss you.
“mph,” a sudden yawn from your mouth interrupts zayne’s train of thoughts. you stretch your arms and move to lay on your back, however your eyes stay closed. you look even more adorable like that—with your hair even messier.
your lover can’t help himself like this. a slender finger reaches out to your lips, gathering the small droplet of drool at the corner. zayne’s neutral expression remains, but his eyes subtly soften once he gets to touch your skin.
“what a messy girl,” zayne mumbles to himself. he nearly makes himself chuckle, however is quick enough to bite back that short laugh. he takes his chance and subtly traces the shape of your bottom lip.
there’s no going back now that he’s touched you. his attention is now fully on you and you only.
zayne is too busy tracing your facial features to notice that you’re starting to wake up. your eyes flutter open and - to your surprise - you find your lover’s face hovering above yours.
you feel the pad of his thumb on one of your cheeks, his index and middle finger holding the other. he gently squeezes your cheeks together so that your lips form a pout. it’s secretly his favorite thing to do—makes you look silly.
“zayne?” you whisper in a groggy voice.
zayne lightly jolts in place and takes his hand away. he clears his throat awkwardly; his gaze darting back and forth between the objects in your bedroom. he purposely avoids all eye contact while maintaining a stoic expression. as if he wasn’t just caught admiring you.
“oh, you’re awake,” your lover mutters. he attempts to change topics by looking at the digital clock on your nightstand, “it’s still too early. you should go back to sleep, dear.”
you still feel flustered whenever he refers to you as ‘dear’ or any other affectionate nickname. your relationship has come so far and it warms your heart. you grin and reach your hand out to place it on zayne’s jawline.
“mm, what were you doing when i was asleep?” you ask in a teasing tone. your fingers trace his jaw gently, trailing down his neck. it makes the dark-haired man gulp lightly. there’s not much left of his self control.
zayne allows you to lead his face back to yours. the tender touch he missed so much—your warm palm meeting his cold skin—it drives him insane. he sighs, though does not admit the truth, “nothing much. just checking my schedule for the day and such.”
that gains him a playful scoff from your side. you know that’s a lie just by the memory you have of his face hovering above yours from earlier. he was admiring you. you poke the tip of his nose, “riiiight, then why were you staring at me so lovingly? touching my lips so delicately?”
you giggle as you recall that faint softness in zayne’s eyes when you caught him admiring the view of you. his fingertips treated your skin with such care. maybe you should’ve pretended to be asleep and see how things would have played out.
“ah, you see,” zayne replies in a low tone, his hand moving once more to tap at the corners of your lips. you could’ve sworn that there’s a faint grin on his face as he continues, “it’s hard to ignore the sight of you when you’re drooling all over yourself in your sleep.”
that shuts you up. you immediately try to wipe away any leftover drool from your lips. your hands work quick, but you don’t find anything to wipe off, “l-liar. i’m not drooling, thank you very much.”
zayne shakes his head with a breathy chuckle and ruffles your hair. he leans in and his breath on the skin of your cheek sends shivers down your spine.
“because i got rid of it all before you woke up, sweetheart,” he mutters lowly and lets his lips graze against your cheek, “i was kind enough to help my messy little girlfriend out and save her from the embarrassment.”
you sputter an incomprehensible excuse, but fail at defending yourself from that. you know zayne is a pro at teasing when he’s in a good mood. you’re absolutely no match to him. you huff and eventually give in, “whatever.”
zayne knows he won that one. he only jokes around with you like that in hopes to seeing your adorable ‘angry’ face. that frown and pout on your face makes you look all the more pretty to him.
he sighs and spoons you—arms cradling you to his chest from behind once you turn your back to him. neither of you complain about your current position. there’s a yawn coming out of your mouth again;
“go back to sleep, i’ll be here.” zayne whispers to you and you nod.
before you close your eyes, you turn your head and stare at zayne. he gazes back down at you and that tender look in his eyes makes its appearance once more. that look which is reserved for you.
“promise me you’ll sleep too,” you mumble. your lover stays silent for a couple seconds, not knowing whether he can promise you that or not. though after seeing your little pout again, he can’t help but give in.
zayne leans in and places a reassuring kiss on your forehead, “i promise. i will.”
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
twirlyleafs · 19 days
Text
Tumblr media
“Quid pro quo.”
Lando Norris x reader
TW: none, just fluff
~~~~
“Can I pick at the blackheads on your back?
Lando looked up at you, face turning into a somewhat disgusted snarl as he processed what you’d said. He was half laying down in the couch, reruns of some old show playing on the tv as he lazily scrolled through his phone. You leaned against the doorframe, a hopeful smile on your face as you waited for your boyfriend’s agreement.
“What?”
“Can I?”
Lando was used to your AdHd-induced ideas, the way you could suddenly appear in the room and start talking about something completely out of pocket. Usually he found it charming, cute, but this just had him squirming.
“No, you cannot.” He denied you, shaking his head as his eyes trailed down to his phone again. “That’s disgusting you muppet.”
“God Lan,” you groaned, dramatically throwing your head back. “Do you even love me?” The whiny exclamation had Landos gaze quickly snap up to you again, his eyes wide in disbelief. He watched you slump against the doorframe, pushing your bottom lip out in a giant pout.
“Excuse me?” He couldn’t help but let out something between a scoff and a laugh. You were adorable, dressed in just one of his shirts and your slippers, face contorted in what he assumed was supposed to be an angry frown. “What’s wrong with you?”
“What’s wrong with you? I’m asking for one small thing-“
“It’s unhygienic!” He argued, amused at the way you stomped your foot. Like a child throwing a tantrum.
“Oh, so you can put your dick in my mouth but you won’t let me pick at your skin?” You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to suppress your satisfied smirk at the look on Landos face. His lips pursed together at your statement, eyes narrowing at you as you glared back. The two of you stayed silent for a moment, both waiting for the other to back down, until Lando finally let out a defeated groan. He knew he couldn’t argue with that. While muttering stuff you didn’t bother listening to he tossed his phone away into the couch before reaching to pull his shirt off. A giant smile broke out on your face and you squealed, wiggling in excitement for a moment before skipping over to your boyfriend. Lando rolled his eyes as you grabbed his face, pressing a quick kiss against his lips, before guiding him to lay down on his stomach.
“You are the best boyfriend ever.” You mumbled, letting him get comfortable before getting on top of him, straddling his lower back. Landos huffed, turning his head to focus on the tv. You pressed a few kisses to the back of his neck before you began, eyes trailing over his back. Landos back was a masterpiece, you’d always thought so, speckled with birthmarks and freckles and tiny scars and sometimes scratches that you’d put there. Those were your favorite.
“That hurts.” Lando hissed, shrugging his shoulders as you pressed your nail against his skin. You used your other hand to push him back down, holding him still while you worked, and he groaned into the pillow. You picked at his skin for a while, pushing some blackheads and popping a small pimple or two, and despite twitching from time to time Lando didn’t say anything else. He didn’t answer you when you told him to stay as he was but when you got back from the bathroom, retrieving some antibacterial wipes, he was still in the same position and you couldn’t help but smile. Straddling him again you gently wiped his back down, making sure to keep the popped pimples clean and dry, before tossing the wipes on the table. Slowly you began scratching your nails up and down his back, moving out to caress his shoulders and upper arms too. You felt his skin almost rise under your touch and when you began pressing your thumbs into his muscles he let out a muffled groan.
“Good or bad?” You asked softly, stopping for a second. The moment he confirmed it did indeed feel good you continued, moving from massaging his shoulders and all the way down to his lower back. Occasionally you received a low hum from him and every time it made you smile.
“I like this much more.” Landos spoke into the couch after a while, moving his arm back and letting his hand fumble around until it found your bare leg. You hummed, leaning down to press soft kisses against his back, moving up until you reached his cheek. Lando turned his head and with a bit of effort you reached his lips, the both of you giggling through the kiss.
“Quid pro quo, right?” You pecked his lips quickly before straightening, carefully climbing off your boyfriend. With a grunt Lando turned around to lay on his back, squinting up at you as you stood beside the couch.
“You definitely know I don’t know what that means. But I’m assuming yes?” He reached an arm out, making grabby hands at you with a small grin. Letting out a breathy giggle you nodded, allowing Lando you pull you down on top of him. You made yourself comfortable, propped up on his chest, before answering.
“It means that I get something and you get something in return. A change of favors.” You explained softly and he let out an understanding hum.
“Right. I suffer through torture and then I get a massage?” Lando confirmed and you rolled your eyes but nodded. Your eyes flickered across his face and Lando watched you watch him, a breezy smile on his face. When he saw you push your brows together he raised his. “What?” Your eyes quickly met his and that same, innocent smile you wore a while ago crept up on your face again. Lando groaned even before you spoke up, knowing he wasn’t going to like it.
“Can I pluck your eyebrows?”
1K notes · View notes