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loveindefinitely · 5 months

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01 — 𝘎𝘖 𝘈𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘊𝘙𝘠, 𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘛𝘓𝘌 𝘎𝘐𝘙𝘓

༊*·˚ LUST FOR LIFE — task force 141 x reader

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, legal age-gaps, inexperienced reader, virgin reader, corruption kink, slight power imbalance, praise, degradation, light dom/sub, slight daddy kink, oral, vaginal sex, your father's a dick, very minor soapghost, aftercare

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

Stay in your room, your father had said. Don't bother us tonight, your father had said. They are dangerous men that do dangerous things, your father had said.

Yet, here you were, standing at the bottom step of the stairwell, hiding behind the wall adjoined to the living room, listening in to the men on the other side.

You were bored out of your brains. It was a Friday night, and like hell was your over-protective father going to let you go out or party. And the fact that he wouldn't even introduce you to his only friends? Or let you leave your fucking room?

It had left you pissed off to no end, so.

Here you were.

"Bloody close," you hear a voice grunt, deep and gravelly. It sends heat to your stomach immediately, and it's almost embarrassing.

You hear the sound of a hand slapping a shoulder, and the bark of a laugh. "Aye, still got the cash you're gonna owe me?" This voice has a -- Irish? Scottish, maybe? -- lilt to it, humour and kindness embedded into its layers.

"He'll find a way outta paying," a third voice chimes, laughter in its tone.

Someone else clears their throat. "You're all gonna get yourselves indebted to each other at this rate," a fourth voice says, sounding almost resigned.

"You all need to shut the fuck up before she sticks her nose down 'ere."

Your spine straightens, and fury simmers in your blood. Did he have to be such an asshole? Why was your father so... so anti your existence? Why was he so ashamed of you, yet so overbeating?

"She's not a kid anymore, you really oughtta to lay off," the man with the scottish accent says, slightly stern in his delivery.

"If you met her, you'd understand how fuckin' annoying she is. Always wants me to deal with her emotions, as if they're my fuckin' problem," your father replies venomously. Your stomach has dropped to your feet, you're sure of it.

There's a low whistle in response, and a silence settles behind the wall. An unsettling one, full of animosity. The fact that you can tell that from behind the wall says a lot.

"I'm gonna go out and get some drinks. Maybe some dinner. Needa get out of this fuckin' house for a bit," your father says with a grunt, sounding like he's gotten up from the couch. "Call if you lot need anythin' while I'm out."

A few grunts of agreement, and after a few seconds, the front door opens and slams shut.

You let out a small breath of tense relief, eyes fluttering shut as you deeply exhale. The immediate relief of having your father out of the house is immense.

"I feel bad for her," you hear the third man speak, voice quiet and low. "You hear how he speaks about her -- what's he like with her?"

"Gaz, whatever you're thinkin', drop it," the first speaker grits out, impatient and tight.

"He's right," the scottish one says with a huff, "Poor kid. She's legal and he isn't letting her out on a Friday night? 'Nd he fuckin' wonders why she's upset."

"He must have his... reasons," the fatherly voice of the fourth speaker says, although his tone says otherwise.

You swallow, slowly creeping off of the bottom step and onto the wooden floors. Front pressed to the wall, you move just the slightest bit, to allow yourself a small peak into the loungeroom.

There are four men, like you'd expected, and they're...

They're big. There's no other word that comes to mind, except for big. Tall, broad, packed with muscle. Military-grade men.

Your mouth is suddenly parched of any moisture, and your brain turns to putty.

Selfishly, stupidly, you spend another dangerous moment to admire the four. The couch curves, the four of them seated on it, facing the TV hung on the wall. They're backs are to you.

Or.

One second, they're all blissfully turned the other way, and in the next, one's head turns, and deep brown eyes meet yours.

Your eyes go wide, and you immediately dart for the stairs, heart in your throat.

Rushing up, trying to stay quiet but still hurrying, you make it to your room in record time. You shut the door behind you, chest tight and breaths harried as your back presses to the wood.

Stupid, stupid girl, you think.

They are dangerous men who do dangerous things.

That's what your father had said, wasn't it? So what were you thinking, risking a look? For what purpose?

Then, there's a knock on your door.

Your eyes go impossibly wide, and your lips purse together as you slowly move away from the door. With one breath, you train your face into a pleasant, kind smile as you slowly open the door, only allowing a bit of your room to be shown.

"You're his daughter, ain't ya?"

You have to crane your neck, eyes going up, and up, and up, until you meet the man's eyes.

The skull balaclava shouldn't cause your face to heat, or your breaths to quicken, but they do.

"I -- um, yes, I'm really sorry for eavesdropping," you mumble, eyes flitting to the floor and hand squeezing the door in an anxious gesture.

A hand grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to meet the man's chocolate eyes once more. They're imploring, impossibly so, and your thighs squeeze together against your better judgement.

"Come watch the game with us," he says, and although the sentence isn't a demand, it feels like one.

So, like the good girl you are, you nod, his grip loosening as you do.

You forget that you're in your tiniest sleep shorts and your thinnest tank top as you follow him down the stairs, his large hand resting on your lower back.

This was the most touch you'd ever felt from a man that wasn't in a familial way, and your nerve-endings feel like they've been electrocuted.

Whatever conversation that was happening silences as soon as the two of you walk into the lounge room, your hands squeezing each other painfully tight.

Your anxiety was warranted in this situation, wasn't it? Surely, it was okay to be scared of four men whom you'd never met.

Four sets of eyes are trained to your body, and there's a slight tremble in your hands as you sit in the spot balaclava had gestured towards.

It seats you in the middle of the four of them, and your heart beats impossibly faster as you settle into the leather, feeling so small in comparison to the men surrounding you.

It's a new, albeit not entirely terrible, feeling.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" The man furthest to your left asks, and when you meet his eyes, they're warm and kind. His lower face is mostly covered in a beard, and he's wearing a light brown hat.

You bite at your inner cheek, gaze flicking back to your thighs as you weakly say your name.

Their gazes burn your skin, like a living force, and your hands form nervous fists in your lap. The warm yellow light of the living room lamp creates a warm, safe ambience that doesn't exactly fit the emotions swirling inside of you.

You flinch only slightly when a warm hand moves to rest on your knee, the thumb rubbing comforting circles on it that ease your tight muscles slightly.

When you look to the owner of the hand, it's to see a warm grin and a faux mohawk.

"You're so tense, lass," he says, his mouth quirking into a knowing smirk. "We don't bite."

"Don't speak for all of us, Soap," the man sitting on your close left says with a charming grin, his eyes meeting yours when you turn to him. "I'll ask nicely, love, don't worry."

You nod, slowly, in some sort of trance. This entire situation doesn't feel entirely real, more like a figment of your deepest desires.

Ones you've never let yourself think about, except for the darkest of nights and the dirtiest of feelings.

"Don't scare the girl," the man with the balaclava says, eyes narrowing on the two men beside you.

"Says the one with the fuckin' mask, ya weirdo," the scottish one says with a scoff of a chuckle. Your mouth pulls into a soft grin without you realising, and the hand on your knee tightens ever so slightly.

"I'm Price," the man who you've deemed the most sensible of the group says with a warm smile. His head gestures to each of the other three men respectively. "That's Gaz, Soap, and Ghost."

You can't say that you're all too familiar with the names, nor how...different they are, but you nod nonetheless, reserving the names in your memory.

"Father dearest never talked about us?" Gaz asks, eyebrows softly furrowing in question.

You shake your head, almost apologetic in the movement. "He doesn't like to tell me much, he's, ah... private."

There's a few returning grunts of understanding, and they settle your nerves just a little bit more. For men of their size, they were surprisingly good at keeping you feeling safe and comfortable.

"What're you doin' all alone on a Friday night? Pretty young thing like you, 'nd you're not at a club? A date?" Soap asks, and if you notice that he's moved just the slightest bit closer to you, you don't say a word.

You feel your face heat, and you murmur out your reply. "Never been to either," you admit, pulling at a thread in your sleep shorts with nervous jerks.

Ghost settles further into his chair, legs spread in an almost dominant way. "Surely you've at least had your first kiss?"

If you could get anymore embarrassed, you're sure you'll combust on the spot.

You softly shake your head.

"Aw, love, you're adorable," Gaz says, a hint of a smirk on his features. His dark eyes glimmer in the light, and you lick your bottom lip to wet it.

Price's arms rest on his knees, and his eyes seem trained on you, debating some sort of inner conflict, before they firm with some kind of resolution. "Y'know, we've been training rookies lately," he states, but with a knowing undertone that everyone in the room seems to pick up on except for you.

"That we have," Ghost says, his voice sending shivers down your spine as he nods in agreement with Price.

"How about we train you, bonnie?" Soap asks, his hand moving just the slightest bit higher on your thigh.

You swallow, mouth dry.

"Um. Like, train me... how?" You ask, although there's some part of your brain that knows all too well what area they're thinking of.

Gaz's hand moves to sit at the nape of your neck, stroking in soothing movements that leave your eyes half-closed and glassy. "How about I show you how to kiss, love?"

Your stomach hollows, and your chest rises and falls in heavy beats. Nervously looking around the room, you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod shortly.

Soap's hand tightens around your thigh, a barely hidden warning. "Words, baby, or you're goin' back to your room."

The threat instantly has words flying out of your mouth. "Yes. Please. Just... be gentle?"

All four men seem to huff a laugh at that, but Gaz nods, dimples showing as his smirk deepens. "I can do that."

He pulls you in, and your eyes flutter shut as his lips meet yours.

The feeling leaves you entirely dazed, your nervous system alighting with signals as your thoughts seem to pause, if only for a second. It's nothing like you'd expected, and butterflies erupt in your lower stomach.

He pulls away, not having breached your mouth, and you must look as out of it as you feel because he laughs.

"That good, love?" He asks, teasing and entirely prideful.

You nod, a bit too fast and enthusiastic, before his hand pulls away from your nape. The loss is mourned, briefly, before your attention pulls away from Gaz and instead to Soap.

"Gotta learn from all of us," is all he says, before his lips crush against your own. Where Gaz was tentative and soft, Soap is all energy and desperation.

His hand squeezes your thigh, and when it had moved from your knee to pushing against your tiny shorts, you haven't an idea.

You can't find it in yourself to care, with his relentless attack on your mouth, your lips, your mind.

When he pulls away, you realise it's because Ghost's moved to stand, and his hand is in a tight fist in Soap's hair, pulling his face away from yours.

"Actin' like a fuckin' mutt," Ghost mutters, tone laced with vitriol. It's degrading, and yet Soap doesn't seem phased in the slightest.

You're about to inquire about that when your attention's caught by Price, his knees spread and patting his thigh. "C'mere, sweetheart," he says, and like a dog on a leash, you do.

His unbelievably large hands grab your hips as he seats you in his lap, and with how he's got his legs spread, it forces you to sit over his groin.

It's a compromising position, and the heat that rushes to your core is an entirely unknown feeling.

He doesn't move his hands from your body as his eyes devour it, before they meet your gaze with a warmth to them that has you shivering.

"Show me what the boys have taught you, hm?" He says, and with shut eyes and a stiff movement, you press your lips to his.

He groans, pleased, his thumbs rubbing circles where your skin's been revealed by your tank top. No one's ever touched you there, not in this way, and it has your pussy wet.

When he pulls away, he licks at his lips, as if he's devouring your taste.

"You're so pretty, sweetheart, mm? No wonder your father's got you all locked up," he says, and the reminder of the source of your anger has you wanting to do entirely too reckless things.

Like kissing the four men he warned you about.

Like doing more, maybe.

...Maybe.

His hands force your hips down, and you let out a small whimper when your clit presses against his belt buckle, the action sending pleasure shooting up your spine.

He raises a brow, catching the change in expression and your small sound. "What's wrong, pretty?"

And then, he pulls you down again, deeper this time, and the movement has your breath hitching, core burning with need.

"Oh, you naughty little girl," he says, and the words have your mind turning into some sort of mouldable clay, entirely able to be controlled by whatever these men wanted to make of it. "So needy, ain't ya?"

Someone presses against you from behind, and a belt buckle presses against your lower back.

"My turn to feel those lips, innit?" Ghost says from behind, leaning down to whisper his next words next to your ear. "See what all the fuss 's about."

The idea that you're being passed around, like you're some kind of... of whore has you entirely speechless in the most positive of ways.

You feel filthy, and you love it.

Leaning your head back, you manage to make eye contact with the large man, before his lips press to yours, upside down.

He devours, all encompassing, his tongue slipping into yours without any hesitance. You're clumsy, unsure, but he makes up for it with experience and dominance. The entire act has you woozy, needy for more of them, more of their touch.

You don't expect for Price to start forcibly rotating your hips, forcing you to grind against his lap, but it forces a moan from your mouth, the sound getting devoured by Ghost's overpowering tongue.

"Who knew she'd be such a desperate slut?" Gaz asks, as if you're not there, as if you're just something to be observed. It causes another moan to leave your mouth, and Ghost detaches himself from you with a grunt of his own.

"Think she liked that," Soap says, amused and proud, in a strange sort of way. "Wanna be used, baby? Taken by men nearly twice your age?"

"Yes," you say, on a groan as Price's motions speed up, the pleasure so new and different and good.

Then, he stops, and a whine comes out of you before you can stop it.

Price makes a condescending noise in response. "Poor babygirl needs all the attention, hey? Needs her little pussy played with?"

"She looks like a goddamn mess, cap," Gaz says, his hand coming up to rest on your head. He gives comforting pats, not unlike one would with an obedient puppy.

Ghost's hands come around your waist, and before you even process what he's doing, he rips your sleep shorts in half, leaving you completely bare.

"Didn't think to wear panties, dumb girl?" Ghost asks with an appreciative groan, his large hand cupping your now exposed pussy.

With a whimper, you shake your head, your eyes squeezed shut at the embarrassment and nudity. No one had ever seen it before, and now, four of your father's friends were getting an eyeful.

"Lemme see if she's nice 'n wet for us," Soap murmurs, picking you up from Price's lap in a princess carry.

It doesn't even last two seconds before he's splaying you over the now empty couch, your hands pathetically covering your most private of areas.

"None of that, sweetheart," Price says with a 'tsk', grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them to the couch above your head, leaving you effectively defenceless to the men.

Soap's hand moves down your stomach, before he pauses for just a moment. "This okay, baby?"

You nod, because yes, this is most definitely okay.

Gaz gives you a stern look, so you quickly fix your mistake. "I -- yes, sir, it's okay."

There's a surrounding sound of approval, and Soap smirks from where he stands beside your hips. "Sir, aye? Like the sound of that."

With that, his finger slides down your pussy, and your eyes shut with a soft moan. His hands are rough, scarred, calloused from years of work on the field, and they're so much larger than your own.

"Think she likes it, sir," Ghost says, taunting Soap, whose eyes are completely transfixed on your glistening pussy.

"Not the only one," Price says with an approving murmur, his hand tightening around your wrists. The sense of powerlessness has you aching with desire.

Soap's finger continues to rub against your slit, not breaching your entrance, instead continuing to tease and amplify his touch. Your eyes are shut, too embarrassed to look at the mess you're likely causing on the fabric, and too nervous to see the expression on the men's faces.

"Do you play with your lil cunt often, princess?" Ghost says, voice darkened with lust.

Your face feels like it's burning, but you nod. "Sometimes. I -- ah," you break off with a moan as Soap's thumb presses against your swollen clit.

"Be a good girl and answer when spoken to, love," Gaz says with a sound of disappointment that has you aching to amend your mistake.

"I'm sorry, sir, I, yes. Sometimes 'm just needing to, um, y'know..." You trail off, trying to preserve any amounts of dignity you had left. You were aware that masturbation was normal, but you'd never discussed it with a single soul, and talking about it felt like laying your soul bare.

Price's other hand moves to gently brush your hair from your face, the gesture so at odds with Soap's sensual movements.

You're about to say something, what, you aren't exactly sure, when Soap's finger roughly enters your soaked pussy. A loud whimper escapes your lips at the sudden intrusion, and the sheer size difference of his finger compared to your own.

"Aww, baby, it's alright," Soap coos, and it's so fucking condescending. It's cruel, almost, as if you're so dumb that you can't even form your own thoughts.

Which is, honestly, more true than you're willing to admit.

"'Atta girl," Ghost groans when your whimpers only increase with every thrust of Soap's finger.

Gaz's hand moves down to replace Soap's thumb on your clit, using the pads of his fingers to roughly circle around it. That sensation, mixed with Soap's intrusion, has your back arching slightly from the couch.

"Think she's close, Cap," Gaz says, conversationally, again treating you like you're not entirely capable of voicing your own feelings or thoughts.

"Mm, that right, sweetheart? Close already?" Price echoes, the hand not around your wrists going to squish your cheeks together, causing your lips to pucker. "What a pathetic girl, hm?"

Those words, those demeaning, humiliating words, only stoke the fire in your stomach, and your eyes burn with unshed tears as you shakily nod.

As soon as you do, however, Gaz pulls away, and Soap's finger leaves your pussy entirely. You groan, eyes opening slightly to see what could've possibly caused them to stop.

"You look so upset, baby," Soap laughs, and his smile is no longer the jovial one it had been mere minutes before -- no, it's been replaced with something much more predatory, something much more dangerous.

Dangerous men.

Ghost moves, then, moving your legs with much more care than you'd expected from the large man, before moving to kneel at the end of the couch where your legs had been. Hooking your knees over his shoulder, he effectively folds you in half.

"W-what are you doing?" You ask, almost frantic, utterly confused at your current state.

He leans down, hooking his balaclava over the tip of his nose, before there's searing wet heat at your core, causing you to throw your head back with a loud moan.

Gaz chuckles, "So dirty, love. Like having the big bad Ghost with his head between your legs, huh? Like having the attention of men with blood on their hands?"

Oh, and the confirmation -- the proper, hard proof, that they killed, that they truly were as dangerous as your father had said --

"Yes, fuck, please, oh my god," you ramble, almost incoherent with your words as you body trembles with the feeling of a mouth at your pussy. "Jesus, don't stop."

You can hear laughter around you, some words being passed between the men, but your focus is entirely on the tongue dipping into your folds, licking at your essence like a man starved. Like you're his only salvation.

Soap's hand is in Ghost's hair, a complete parallel to the kiss the two of you had shared, and he's pushing Ghost further against you, manhandling him like a toy for you to grind against, for you to take advantage of.

"I'm gonna, oh, please, I'm close," you cry out, eyes squeezed shut yet again as Ghost's ministrations only double in enthusiasm.

"Yeah, sweetheart? Gonna cum all over his face? Go on, ride it, there we go," Price eggs you on, his hand patting down your hair, massaging at your scalp as you lose yourself to the pleasure of it all.

You cum with a desperate keen, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as you ride out the high, embracing this moment for the beauty it is.

It doesn't hit you, not at first, the full extent of your actions.

Ghost pulls away after your whimpers turn into ones of overstimulation, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, your twitching pussy, and then your inner knee as he carefully sets your legs back down on the couch.

"Such a good girl, aye?" Soap asks, rubbing at your tense calves with expert strokes and pressure. "Did so well for us, darlin'."

Your head feels like it's been filled with cotton, and your mouth is in a similar state as you nod dazedly.

You're not sure when, but at some point, Price gently moves you to lay your back against the cushion of the couch. "Need you to drink something for us, sweetheart, okay?"

Gods, this part? Them treating you like a princess, like you're something worthy of taking care of, it's almost as good as the orgasm they'd given you.

Gaz comes into view with a glass of water, and when he gently moves your chin to open your mouth, you let him pour it down your throat.

It feels almost like you're entirely too weak to do anything by yourself, like your ability to function has been completely removed by these men. It's intoxicating, the kind of feeling that could be as addictive as the most threatening of drugs.

The water slides down your throat, and it's as if it cools you from the inside out, your heartbeat slowly coming down from the quickened pace it was previously at.

Price picks you up, cradling your head to his chest as he sits down, the other three settling down on the couch as well. Gaz, sitting beside Price, moves your legs to sit over his lap, your feet in Soap's. Ghost sits to Soap's left, his eyes focused on you as you get comfortable, burrowing your head closer to Price.

If you could stay in this moment forever, you think that you'll be a very happy woman.

Closing your eyes, you drift into a space between sleep and awareness, and when they flutter open again, you realise that your previously exposed pussy and legs are now hidden by your sweatpants that had been laid on your bed, ready to be put away.

Price's hand is in your hair, softly playing with the strands. His hand encompasses your entire scalp, almost, and if you weren't completely exhausted, that fact alone would have you ready to get on your knees.

"What're we gonna do?" Gaz whispers, and you realise with a start that they must all think you're still dozing. "I mean, we seriously fucked this up."

"Not yet we haven't," Ghost interrupts, voice still gravelly and low, but with a hint of warmth. "This doesn't change anything."

"This changes everything!" Soap hisses back, incredulous, his hands stilling from where they were rubbing into your feet with practiced movements. Were they all trained masseuses, or something?

No. Trained killers, your mind unhelpfully supplies, and a chill runs down your spine.

Oh god. Oh god. What had you done? Seriously, what the actual fuck had you done? You just.

You just lost your virginity to four of your father's very lethal, very dangerous friends. Friends who are nearly twice your age, at that.

Oh. God.

"Laswell will be expecting correspondence by three," Price mutters in a voice akin to a whisper. "You boys know what we have to do."

What? What were they talking about? Who was Laswell? What did they have to do by three?

Your mind whirrs, like a hamster in a wheel, before the sound of keys jingling on the other side of your front door has your entire body freezing.

Oh god.

Oh. God.

"Shit," Gaz grumbles, and between one thought and the next, you've been bundled up into a warm chest, the movement fluid and shockingly quick. A hand at the base of skull softly pushes your head against a warm neck, and your legs hang over a muscled arm. "I'll take her upstairs. Be quiet and quick."

There's murmurs too quiet between the other three as you're taken up the stairs, two steps at a time, by the man whose fingers had been on your pussy, at most, only an hour ago.

You're aware that you've been taken to your room when the door clicks behind you, the familiar path to it engrained in your memory, even with your eyes closed and in someone else's arms.

The smell of vanilla and caramel is a comforting and familiar one, and you realise that you'd left your candle burning all night.

It's really the least of your worries, but that thought manages to snag at your conscious like an annoying fly.

"I'm so sorry, kid," Gaz whispers, gently laying you down underneath your bedsheets, before pulling them up and over your lazed form. "I'll try my best to talk some sense into 'em."

You're not sure what he could possible mean -- what the fuck was even happening, what your life was even becoming, but his words are nothing if not sincere.

His tone is almost... apologetic, in a way, and you reserve that thought for later. When you're not pretending to be awake, when you're still not slightly out of it from your first orgasm caused by someone else, when you're not in the middle of the worst moral conflict of your life.

Your window's slightly open, allowing a soft breeze to brush over your still slightly heated skin as Gaz presses a soft kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back.

"Get off me!"

Your father. That's your father's voice, and it sounds panicked, angry -- not unusual, but still, the cause of it was nearly always you.

And those specific words, what --

"Y'know, Laswell found out somethin' pretty interestin' the other day," a voice that you recognise as Ghost's says, tone mocking interest.

Gaz moves away from you, before going to the window and looking out at whatever scene is happening down there. Somehow, he hasn't realised you're not asleep -- you'd kept your breathing pattern the same as it usually was when you're asleep, some youtube video you'd watched months ago finally coming in handy.

You can hear them all clear as day through the small opening of the window, and Gaz can too.

"Aye. Somethin' 'bout some info bein' leaked," Soap continues Ghost's train of thought, and you're so lost it's almost pathetic.

But, you continue to listen, desperate for any source of understanding for whatever the fuck was happening down there.

"You can't possibly think it was me!" Your father yells, his voice full of venom and rage. To have it not be directed at you is a rare moment, and you allow yourself a small breath of reprieve.

"We know it was you," Price says, before sighing loud enough for it to be heard from your room. "The way you spoke about that kid of yours was enough to cement the idea."

"She's a fuckin' waste of space, and where do you get off on caring how I treat my kid? Has nothin' to do with the job!"

Those words hurt. Like an actual, physical wound, almost.

Gaz swears under his breath, and you can feel the tension ooze out of him like a wave. It's... oddly comforting.

There's the sound of a fist hitting a jaw, and it takes everything in you not to race to the window and look at what's going on yourself.

"Jesus fucking christ!" Your father hisses, and you put two and two together. One of the three men down there had punched him -- if you had to take a guess, it was Ghost.

"You've never been one of us, and you'll never be one of us. You sellin' us out was the last straw, mate," Soap snarls. You can hear him spit on the ground, before another sound of fists flying makes your heart race.

There's a moment of silence, until two things happen in the span of five seconds.

First, your father screams, "Please! Don't --"

And then...

A bullet.

The sound of a trigger being pulled.

The sound of a bullet ringing through the air.

The sound of a final breath.

Your eyes fly wide, and you immediately stumble out of bed.

Gaz's gaze meets yours, and there's nothing but apology in them. No guilt, just apology.

He doesn't stop you from looking out the window, where your father's body lays in the grass, blood leaking from the wound now sitting between his eyes.

And when you turn to him, he doesn't stop you as you land a punch to his jaw.

a/n. CROSS-POSTED TO AO3 ummm so did i PLAN for this to become an actual fic? no. not in the slightest. but i was writing the fingering bit and was like. what if her dad died? and there's an actual plot? so uhhh here we are! anyways hope yall enjoyedddd if u guys know me u know polyamory is my SHIT so there will very likely be more poly!tf141 x reader to come. ty for reading mwah mwah mwah

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ivysoul · 9 months

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⋆｡𖦹 °✩ CALL FOR HELP. — PERV!KÖNIG.

. ➶ ˚ ꒰ contains. fem!reader, perv!könig, hidden cameras, masturbation (f and m), very brief phone sex. ꒱

. ➶ ˚ ꒰ notes. i for some reason could not finish this so take this half assed attempt at smut (my other works are way better than this pls😭) ꒱

༊*·˚ ꒰ cod masterlist. ꒱ ✩ ꒰ navigation. ꒱

perv!könig who puts hidden cameras around your house when you ask him to fix something for you while you were at the store :(. he tells himself it’s so that he can keep an eye on you and your safety when he’s not around, but he can’t shoot out any excuses when he finds himself watching you through the cameras late at night, playing with your little clit and stuffing two fingers in your gushing hole.

in all fairness, he only looked at the cameras because he was curious to know what you were up to. he hadn’t expected to see you in such an intimate and private moment. nor did he expect his cock to get so hard so quickly.

without a single thought in his brain, he reaches down to his sweatpants and frees his cock, already leaking with pre-cum after watching you for about five minutes. he hisses when he runs his thumb along his tip, smearing the pre down his shaft as much as he could.

he tries to set the same pace as your fingers on your clit—he wants to finish with you, not before you. but it got hard when all that was on his mind was you and your pretty, glistening cunt. the way your mouth fell open in pleasure had him wondering if you were moaning or just letting out little breathy noises. he also wondered what was on your mind as you toyed with yourself.

he would be lying if he said he’d never thought about you whilst touching himself. it was hard not to when you looked as pretty as you did. he would also be lying if he said that the times he got off to the thought of you weren’t the best orgasms of his entire life. so this wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, the camera was just a (much appreciated) added bonus.

he was so lost in the pleasure that he didn’t notice your hand flailing about on the sheets in search for your phone. he didn’t notice you raising your phone up to your ear, until his phone ran out from his bedside table. he didn’t even think before he grabbed it and pressed answer, immediately being able to now hear your voice and the far away tone of it.

“könig..” you whined, throwing your head back on your pillow. your hand between your legs remained in its position. “need your help.”

you didn’t want to call your best friend for help in this situation, but nothing was working and the only thing you could think of was to call him, the man you had been crushing on for a good portion of your life.

he squeezed his eyes shut tightly at the sound of your voice, only adding to his rising heart rate. he couldn’t let on that he knew what you were talking about, even if it surprised him to no end. so instead, he feigned innocence.

“with what, kleine maus?” he asked, doing his hardest to keep his voice level and calm. “something the matter?”

you only whined again response, your sexual frustration clear through the camera phone. the fingers on your clit felt useless, and you wished for nothing more than those fingers to be könig’s.

letting out a soft moan, you said the only words you were thinking. “needa cum. please, make me cum. only… only you can.”

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 📁 ꒰ könig ! ⊹˚. ♡ ꒱#könig modern warfare #könig #könig smut #könig cod smut #könig call of duty modern warfare 2 #könig cod mw2 #könig call of duty #könig x reader #könig x f!reader #saintlulls

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alltheirdamn · 1 month

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DECLINED | Mechanic!Joel x f!reader

*The Oil Change*

Summary: Joel decides to give you a lesson in changing oil... Rating: 18+ Explicit Word Count: 4k Warnings: Pre-Outbreak AU, mechanic!Joel, f! masturbation, fingering, squirting, power dynamic shift, submission, overstimulation, unprotected piv sex, size kink, dirty talk, praise kink, pet names (babydoll, darlin', cowboy), ROUGH sex, creampie, lots of banter, questionable information on how to change oil, joel being the MAN that he is A/N: Just a fun lil drabble about our two favorite people ever... also, I am definitely NOT a qualified mechanic with this story, so pls don't follow these instructions when changing your oil lol unless you want to include a mind-blowing orgasm to the mix

Masterlist | Ko-fi

“Okay, so what now?” You asked, staring at the engine of your car.

It was a quiet Saturday at the shop, and Joel had insisted on teaching you how to change the oil. You were ready to get greased up with the car on a jack and the hood open. Joel leaned over the car, pointing to the oil cap beside the engine.

“See that? That’s where the oil is. We gotta check the levels first before changin’ it,” he explained.

“So… just unscrew it and look into it?” You sounded like a typical dumb girl in a mechanic shop.

Joel was patient with you, though, and far too eager to teach you the ropes. Untwisting the oil cap, he pulled out a long stick beside it, covered in dark liquid. Holding it on the base of a dirty towel, he presented it to you, pointing at the lines on the bottom of it.

“S’called a dipstick,” he said. “Those lines on the bottom show your fuel levels. If it’s below that line, means you needa change it. What’s it sayin’, babydoll?”

You inspected the dipstick and saw the oil coating it under the line. So far, so easy.

“Says I need new oil,” you nodded.

Joel hummed his approval, putting the dipstick back into its spot and leaving the oil cap open. Rounding the car, he pulled up some sort of flat-rolling device. He nodded his head over to it, wordlessly instructing you to follow him. He put it at the side of your car, moving it back and forth to show you how it worked.

“This’ll help you get under the car. S’called a creeper. You just lay down on it and slide under. Think you can do it or want to watch me work?”

You contemplated it, knowing you had seen him on it plenty of other times. You spent countless afternoons watching him lying on the underside of a vehicle, with his thighs flexing under his jeans and his shirt riding up to expose his lower stomach. He always had a particular look when he came back out from under the cars, his hair disheveled and a stupid grin plastered on his face. For such a simple job, Joel sure did love it.

“I can do it,” you decided. “You can’t be the only one getting all greased up and dirty.”

Joel smirked at you, his hand coming to palm your ass. Leaning into his touch, you pecked him on the cheek and lowered yourself onto the creeper. Staring up at him, you gave him a questioning look as if to ask what now? Pressing his word boot against your shoe, he slid you under the car slowly, your view of him being replaced by the underside of your car. Everything looked just as confusing as it did under the hood. Joel pushed an empty metal pan under with you, along with a wrench and a towel.

“Alright, babydoll,” he said, his voice closer as he crouched down. “This is where it’ll get messy. Just listen to my instructions, and you’ll be fine.”

“I’m trusting you with my life,” you grumbled. “Don’t let me get covered in oil down here, cowboy.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, babydoll. Now, take a look up and find the drain plug. Should look like a lil’ metal screw. You got it?”

Your eyes scanned upwards, straining until you settled on the screw. You grabbed the wrench and lined it up with the screw.

“I just unscrew it?” you hollered.

“Wait! Hold on, babydoll!” Joel called out.

You heard shuffling beside the car and suddenly felt his shadow beside you. He squeezed his way under the car with you; his body angled sideways to get a view of the drain plug. You glanced over at his face, giving him a soft smile. He had that look of focus cresting over his features, his lips pursed, and forehead scrunched together. It was cute seeing him take this so seriously.

“Alright, alright,” he exhaled. “The oil s’gonna come out fast, so be ready for it. Try movin’ your body my way so you don’t get it all over ya’.”

“You make this sound so dirty,” you laughed.

“It is dirty,” he said pointedly. “Get that pretty lil’ mind outta the gutter.”

“Or what?” you questioned, shuffling your body against the creep. You leaned into his broad frame, feeling his chest press against your back.

“Focus,” he growled. Despite his irritation, you could feel him harden against you.

“Okay, okay,” you relented.

Reaching up, you used the wrench to loosen the screw, utterly oblivious to the chaos that was about to transpire. The screw shot out onto the metal pan with a thud, followed by a heavy stream of oil splashing against the empty pan. Thick, black oil splattered onto your cheek and neck, the warmth of it staining your skin. You yelped at the contact, rolling off the creeper and falling into Joel’s open arms. His chest shook with laughter as he hauled you further from the oil, still steadily draining out.

“I warned ya’,” he said. “It’s messy.”

“You didn’t tell me I’d get hit with the oil!” you yelled, jabbing him with your elbow, which only sent him into another fit of laughter. “It’s not funny!”

“S’kinda funny,” he chuckled. “I’ll get you all cleaned up after, don’t worry.”

“You fucking better,” you grumbled.

You watched the oil finally finish draining, a slow drip falling into the filled pan. Joel shimmied out from under the car, whispering in your ear to stay put. He came back a moment later, reaching down to hand you some sort of metal canister. Turning it in your hand, you read the label and saw OIL FILTER plastered on the side.

“Now we gotta change the oil filter,” Joel explained. “First, y’gotta get the old one out, then we can replace it.”

“Why don’t you do the rest? I’m already messy enough.”

“Oh, so you can talk dirty, but I can’t, huh?” He teased, squeezing your calf as it stuck out under the car.

“Oh, shut up!”

Joel bent down to lay under the car with you again, tilting his head to look at the oil filter. His hand twisted the old canister until another glob of oil fell into the pan, smearing over your t-shirt. The oil leaked down his hand, covering the straps and face of his watch and coloring his tan skin.

“Jesus Christ, Joel!”

“Why don’t ya’ save that hootin’ and hollerin’ for after the oil change,” he quipped. “I’ll make sure ya’ say that again, just in a different way.”

You glanced at him, welcomed by an overdramatic wink on his handsome face. He nudged you with your elbow, turning your focus back to the oil change. Guiding your hand up to the empty space, he helped you install the new filter, both of your hands working in tandem as you twisted it back into place.

“There ya’ go, babydoll. Good job.”

“Joel,” you warned. “If you keep talking in my ear like that, I’m going to smack the shit outta you.”

“I reckon you’d rather fuck me,” he whispered in your ear.

Joel shuffled out from under the car, leaving the space vacant around you. You managed to get your body back onto the surface of the creeper, propping your knees up to help propel you forward and out, but as you did, an oil-slicked hand grabbed your ankle. You yelped at the contact, your body lurching from under the car and back into the sun-drenched garage. Joel stood over you with a coy grin and a stiffness in his jeans you were all too familiar with.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, an unspoken warning to him about what he was thinking. You were covered in oil and felt absolutely disgusting… he was not touching you.

“Don’t you even think about it,” you warned, sitting up on the creeper. It rolled back against the car, hitting the side door with a soft thud.

Joel stalked forward, crouching to meet you at eye level. He had those stupid fucking puppy dog eyes, and his bottom lip was pushed out and extra pouty. He was undeniably cute, but you wouldn’t cave.

“We got ten minutes to kill ‘til we can recheck the levels,” he insisted.

“Ten minutes? You won’t even last two, cowboy.”

That did him in.

Pulling the edge of the creeper forward, Joel came down to eye level, a flash of intensity cresting over his brown eyes. His hand brushed over your neck, tugging at your ponytail.

“Says you, babydoll. I’ll have you coverin’ the floor in your juices in less than a minute,” he argued.

Your mouth fell open, both shocked and a bit turned on. He wasn’t wrong, but you were determined to prove him wrong. Arching your body forward, your hands gripped the collar of his flannel, hauling him into a long kiss. His tongue brushed over your bottom lip, making you moan helplessly. Damn this man and his ability to make you submissive and pliable.

“Do you think you’re that good?” you taunted, working your mouth down to nip at the patchy beard covering his jaw.

Joel’s hand untangled from your hair and moved to your neck, squeezing your throat gently—a warning. He held you steady as he met your eyes with a fierce look, his eyes nearly black.

“Do you need a reminder, darlin’? ‘Cause I ain’t afraid to teach you a lesson.”

“You’re already teaching me a lesson,” you reminded him, with a touch of sassiness in your voice. “A lesson in changing oil.”

“Keep it up, babydoll. Y’know I love it when you’re a brat. Means I get to fuck it right out of ya’.”

“And I give you full permission to fuck me later. Right now, oil change,” you emphasized.

He huffed a loud groan, rolling his eyes and straightening to his full height. Offering a hand, Joel helped you stand back up, pecking you on the cheek before leading you back to the open hood of the car.

“When the oil’s settled, we’ll check the dipstick again to make sure the filters workin’,” he explained.

“Sounds easy enough. And that’s it?” You asked.

“Yup. All good after that, babydoll. We just gotta kill them ten minutes.” He gave you a side eye, insinuating what you both could be doing.

“I’m sure you can make yourself busy,” you smiled, blissfully aware of how much you were killing him.

“Rather be busy makin’ you scream my name,” he grumbled, inspecting your car's engine.

“Aw, is my man pouting?” You teased, rounding the edge of the hood to hug him from behind. You pressed your cheek against his shoulder blade, working your grease-covered hands over the buttons of his flannel. Your fingers danced over each one, toying with them just to elicit his response.

“You’re killing me, babydoll,” Joel groaned.

“Am I?” You asked innocently. Your hands trailed down his stomach, inching closer to his belt.

Joel’s hand shot forward, his thick fingers wrapping around your wrist. You gasped as they tightened around your skin, his arm twisting until he maneuvered you around to stand in front of him. Your ass hit the edge of the bumper at the exact moment his hands came up to pull your face to his. His lips crashed onto yours, his tongue seeking yours as he forced your mouth open wider. A desperate whimper escaped your mouth, only making his movements more intense and all-consuming. Your teeth dug into the plush skin of his bottom lip, tugging gently as he broke away.

“I’m beggin’ you, babydoll. Please let me fill that pretty pussy, I’m about to lose my damn mind.”

You smirked, folding your arms over your chest. His eyes were saucers; his pupils lost amidst the brown in his irises. Despite the afternoon sun still flecking across the corners of the garage, shadows danced over his features, emphasizing the hungry look he was giving you. You knew it would be easy to cave into his needs—you wanted to—but maybe, just maybe, you’d enjoy seeing him work for it.

“You wanna beg for it, cowboy?” You asked. “Let me see it.”

Joel’s mouth parted, words failing him as he studied your posture and dominant voice. You lifted your chin, trying to level him with a heavy stare even with the inches of height he had over you.

“Well?” You questioned.

“Whatcha want, darlin’? Y’wanna see me on my knees?” He suggested, shifting slightly.

Your eyes flicked down to the bulge in his jeans, watching it strain against the zipper the longer you stared. Your tongue darted out, rolling over your bottom lip before you bit into it. Joel let out an impatient groan before sinking to his knees before you. Now, the eye contact shifted, your height imposing over his. Seeing his eyes strain upwards to look at you gave you a new sense of control. You liked it.

“Is this what ya’ wanted?” His voice dropped an octave.

“I don’t hear any begging,” you shrugged.

Joel clasped his hands together, holding them in front of his chest, as he met your eyes with a pleading stare. His kiss-swollen lips pushed out into a pout, and his voice was agonizingly desperate as he spoke.

“Please, babydoll,” he begged. “I’m dyin’ to see you ruin the floors of this damn garage. Fuckin’ desperate to make you cum all over my cock, please.”

“I like you begging,” you mused. “You’re so handsome on your knees.”

Joel groaned, letting his head fall against your thighs. Running his hands up your jeans, his fingers worked towards your zipper, which you quickly swatted away. Carding your hand through the sweaty curls atop his head, you yanked them back to force his eyes on you again.

“Do you want to see me cum?” You questioned.

Joel nodded pathetically, his thick neck straining the longer he looked up at you. You noted the outline of his veins under his sun-kissed skin and how his throat bobbed with each word you spoke.

“Fuck, babydoll. Yes. Please, I want it s’bad,” he pleaded.

“Then be a good boy and watch,” you commanded.

Arousal flooded through your veins as you unzipped your jeans, shimming them down your hips and thighs before discarding them somewhere amidst the mess of the workspace. Standing before him in only a tiny lace thong, you watched as Joel wordlessly tracked your movements, his eyes zeroed in on the apparent slickness between your thighs. You had done such a good job of restraining yourself earlier to saying no, but how could you deny a man on his knees?

“No touching,” you ordered. “You’re only allowed to watch.”

Hooking your thumbs under the band of your underwear, you let them slowly fall to the ground, your legs stepping out of them as you adjusted yourself against the bumper of the car. Pressing your ass against the cold metal frame, you lifted one leg to rest on top of the bumper; your foot pressed down as you shifted your weight to support your body. Joel obediently watched, his hands resting on his thighs as ordered.

You moved your hand down your abdomen, your fingers drifting lower as you teased your wet folds. Joel watched with rapt attention, his eyes never leaving the sight of your hand. You made small circles over your clit, the brush of your fingers against it electrifying your nerves. Unrefined pleasure coursed through you as your movements intensified, your hips rolling against your hand as you chased your orgasm. Joel let out a strangled groan, and your eyes snapped to him, only to catch his hand palming over his cock beneath his jeans.

“No,” you said firmly. “You can’t touch yourself yet.”

“Babydoll,” he whined. “S’fuckin’ killin’ me.”

You leveled him with a heavy stare, pushing two fingers inside your aching cunt with a cry of pleasure falling off your lips. You wanted to see him work for it and see how long he’d last without snapping. With two fingers curling deep inside you, you brought your other hand into the mix, drawing those same lazy circles over your clit until you felt that white-hot pressure building inside your core. Joel still hadn’t moved an inch; every muscle in his body tensed as he watched helplessly. You curled your fingers harder, pulling more soft sounds from your mouth as you teetered on the edge of release.

“Joel,” you panted. “I—I need your fucking mouth.”

There was no hesitation.

He crawled to you, replacing the fingers on your clit with his mouth, his tongue stroking the aching bud with fervor. Each flick and drag of his tongue was another shockwave through your nerves, pushing you closer and closer until you were crying out into the space around you. With one large hand gripping the back of your thigh, Joel pressed his tongue harder against your clit until you were crashing over the edge. You came with his name falling off of your tongue, your wet arousal dripping down the bridge of his nose as he pushed his face further into you. Joel wrapped his fingers around your wrist, pulling your fingers from your wet entrance, and sucked them into his mouth. Your eyes connected as he stared up at you, his tongue gliding up each finger as if he were a starved man.

Fuck control, and fuck the oil change; you needed him. Now.

“Take me, cowboy,” you pleaded. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Y’gonna regret sayin’ that,” he warned, hauling himself to his feet.

Joel’s arms wrapped around the back of your knees, throwing you over his shoulder. You yelped at the sudden movement, your hands bracing against his lower back. The garage became a blur as he moved past the cars and mess of tools on the ground. Maneuvering you onto the workbench, Joel guided you back until you were flush with the wooden bench, his body hovering over you. His hands moved swiftly on his belt buckle, letting his cock spring free as he hauled your legs over his shoulders.

“Don’t get grease all over me,” you said. “Keep your filthy hands to yourself, cowboy.”

“Oh, don’t worry, m’gonna make a fuckin’ mess of you,” Joel smirked and lined his cock up with your entrance.

He drove into you with such force your body shifted upwards on the bench, your skin digging into the wood as you tried to adjust to his size. No matter how many times Joel fucked you, you were always breathless when he filled you with every inch of his cock. He had you bent in half in this position, his hands braced behind you on the bench, and your legs folded over his shoulders. The strength behind each thrust was brutal, and you cried out with each snap of his hips against yours.

“Did ya’ enjoy teasin’ me, babydoll?” He grunted. “You like seein’ me on my knees beggin’ for this pussy?”

“Yes!” You wailed, tears forming in your eyes.

“Gonna make you fuckin’ beg for my cum, darlin’. Let’s fuckin’ hear it. Scream for me.”

Joel fucked you with abandon until you were a crying mess. Your hands wound around his neck, nails digging into his skin just for stability. The flutter of your cunt around him sucked him in further, plunging his cock at a deeper angle that catapulted you right to the precipice of release. He knows it, too. If you thought his pace was brutal before—this was violent. He was claiming you in every single buck of his hips, and you steal a glance upwards to see his face twisted up in determination.

Your voice was becoming hoarse from screaming his name; the void of the garage filled with the sounds of your cries and the disgusting slap of his hips against your slick cunt. Every muscle in your legs tensed and shook as you tried to quell the desperate need for release. You couldn’t hold it much longer; his cock was rubbing against that perfect spot inside you.

“I can feel that pussy clenchin’ my cock, babydoll,” Joel whispered, lowering his mouth to your ear. “Don’t fuckin’ cum yet. Not ‘til I tell you.”

“Joel, I—I can’t wait,” you sobbed. “Please, I need it.”

“Be a good girl for me,” he growled. “You can do it.”

Your chest heaved with another sob, the tears overflowing as your cunt clenched harder. You were using every ounce of your energy to hold your orgasm at bay, to force your body to wait until he gave you that release. His greased fingers found your overly sensitive clit, pressing right against the bud and alighting the nerves inside you. Your back arched off the bench as you stifled another scream of pleasure.

“Look at you,” he taunted. “So fuckin’ desperate now, huh? Teased me all day, and now y’wanna cum so bad? Alright, babydoll, cum for me.”

The world fizzled out as your orgasm wracked through your body, lurching you upwards into his arms as you clung to him with shaking limbs. A stream of liquid poured from your pulsating cunt, a ripple of pleasure folding over your nerves and tumbling you into oblivion. Joel’s body tensed under you as he filled you with his release, hot ropes painting the inside of your cunt. Another wave of arousal tore through you, drenching the bench beneath you and dripping onto the floor. Even amidst the haze of your orgasm, you could hear Joel chuckling softly.

“Told you I’d have ya’ drenchin’ the ground.”

“Shut. Up.” You panted.

“Mhmm,” he hummed, kissing your tear-soaked cheek.

Joel removed himself from you, easing your sore legs off his shoulders and placing your feet on the floor. Your vision was still blurred as you stared at his face, his lips twitching with a smug grin and a trail of sweat rolling down his temples.

“I reckon that oil’s ready to check now, darlin’,” he said, offering you a hand.

You took it, winding your fingers through his. With a squeeze of his fingers, you walked over to the car, trying—and failing—to hide the limp in your steps. You couldn’t focus on anything other than the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and down your thighs, but you watched silently as he pulled out the dipstick and presented it to you.

“Good job, darlin’,” he smiled. “Now ya’ know how to change the oil. Whatcha wanna learn next?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your underwear from the floor and slipping them over your hips.

“Maybe I can teach you how to slow down your damn sex drive, cowboy. You’re gonna fucking break me in half one day,” you grumbled.

“Don’t think you’d mind it much, babydoll.”

Joel tugged you close, tipping your chin up to meet his lips with a tender kiss. You were pliant in his hands, molding yourself to each hard muscle of his body. Running your hands up his biceps, you gripped his shoulders and slipped your tongue over his. He palmed your ass, pressing your body tighter against his chest.

“You’re a terrible teacher, you know that?” You mumbled against his mouth.

“But ya’ love me,” he tossed back, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“Yeah, I do,” you sighed happily.

“And I love you, babydoll.”

#joel miller #joel x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel miller pre outbreak #one shot #drabble #mechanic!joel #questionable oil change

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nqify · 1 year

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ok, then here we go!

how about jake sully during heat? and maybe he not only can't keep his hands off of you, but when he's not touching you he can't help but jerk off right in front of you.

maybe he's just so unbearably horny that he starts to hump his pillows, the grass, your leg, his hands, or even touch himself during important meeting and has to be excused.

like he's just a needy soft!dom who is feverishly grinding on everything or tugging his thick cock in thoughts of you; poor bby can't even stop it 🥺🤭

had to make my first Jake sully fic with ur request ofc!!! AHHH!! this is so good!!!

heat. — jake sully ☆

Jake sully is the definition of needy!soft dom!! especially during heat!! this MF will find any excuse just to fuck you, like omg!! it’s a full moon we must fuck, or he made food without burning himself we must fuck!! he’s just so needy!!

so when his heat rolls around, omg get ready to be fucked and touch every single day. oh this fucker can not keep his hands off you.

lets just say, Jake starts to feel his heat coming on in an important meeting. during this meeting the only thing he could focus on was you, he’d be eye fucking you from across the room!!

his gaze was dark and lustful, his eyes were hooded and covered with little strings of hair. girl u are fucked!! you’d noticed, his posture straighten up, his arms all big and strong and his cock aching for you!! he will try everything and anything to get out of there. “baby, i need you now”

and now ur back is arched, pillow underneath you while jakes hands were gripping ur hips!! “f-fuck, pretty, this pussy f-feels so good!!”

this man would 100% get pussy drunk while he’s on heat. he’d be eating your pussy, tongue swirling around your clit while his fingers were spreading you out, “gimme more baby, want more of ur pussy, fuck so pretty for me” he loves u omg!! “such a pretty pussy baby, just for me right?? only me?? for daddy mm??” you’d be nodding, “wanna hear u say it, say this pretty pussy is mine, cmon, needa hear it” pussy is aching!!!

sometimes you’d be away from him, hunting for food or travelling with friends. you’d come home to this fucker humping the pillow, he’d be grinding, head thrown back while whines escaped his throat. “j-Jake??” this MF does not stop, he just looks at you and smirks, “aaahh, baby, daddy needs some help, you can help him right?? cmon be a good girl for me”

or whenever your away too long and you guys finally get into it, this fucker is so needy!! he’d be jerking off on top of you, “f-fuck needa cum, needa cum shit” but omg he was so hot. stroking his cock up and down to the sight of you?? pussy WET!!! “look at you baby, u want my cum?? u want daddy’s cum to make a mess of ur pussy?? yeah??”

now when he’s in heat bf will only do doggy style and missionary. he needs to have control over you when he’s in heat, or he’ll explode. this dude will have ur back arched and ur legs spread wide, gripping into ur tail for deeper thrusts.

“mmm, fuck pretty, look at this pussy, u need my cock don’t you?? u want daddy’s big cock to fill u up huh?” ur whining like PLS HELLO?? in doggy style this fucker is going deep!! like reaching every inch of u. bro is def hitting ur cervix. “yeah baby?? that feel good?? u like when daddy touches ur little special spot huh?”

now for missionary, oh boy. his veiny hand would be gripping your neck while the other was holding your waist. he’s pounding into you with everything that he’s got, “mmmm, my pretty girl likes this right?? fuck ur such a dirty slut for liking this” oh BOY!! “j-Jake!! need ur cum!!, pls fill me up daddy”

HELLO!! Breeding kink while on heat?? YEPYEP!! “yeah baby?? u want daddy’s cum? u want him to make u all full and stuffed right? yeah I can do that baby, just keep being a good girl for me” and oh my god HIS LOAD is THICK AND HEAVY!!! you could feel it in you and lord DO U LOVE IT!! and when he would see it pour out, “oh no baby, i gotta keep it in so u can have my babies!!” he’d just fuck it into you.

this dude has to be messy, spit and cum everywhere!!! you want a kiss? messy asf. he’s eating you out? messy asf. fucking ur pussy, MESSY ASF!! DEF has a spit kink!!!!!!

“cmon baby, open ur mouth for me, yeah that’s it, good girl” and BOOM SPIT!! cuz he’s on heat he feels some kind of control making you a mess

your drooling EVERYWHERE!!! and he’d make fun of u!!! “awe look at you, such a fucking whore and can’t keep herself clean can she?? she likes when daddy makes her all messy and dumb doesn’t she mm??” ur nodding bc DUH?? “uh uh babygirl, say it, say ur my dumb little slut” GIRL!!!!! “I-I’m ur dumb little s-slut!!” HSHFNJS

and ofc!!! when u guys are done he’d still keep his cock in you!! he loves having you so close, cock warming is def his fav thing to do. “baby, u still feel so warm” and omg “I love this pussy so so much”

#jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x you #avatar way of water #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #avatar #avatar smut #na’vi quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch smut #na’vi smut

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tightjeansjavi · 6 months

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honey pot 🍯

(Mood board is just for aesthetics! Reader has no physical descriptions such as body type or skin color)

A/N: so after watching a very ✨spicy✨ video, I came up with this deliciously filthy idea of neighbor!joel becoming your fuck buddy. The only problem? You have a boyfriend already 🤭 just a disclaimer, I do not condone cheating and this fic might not be for everyone, and that’s okay!

~word count: 2.7k~

Summary: you’ve been fucking your hot neighbor, Joel Miller, all summer without your boyfriend finding out until you end up faking an orgasm with him. You tell Joel that you can no longer see him, and he comes up with a solution that works for the both of you.

pairing | hot neighbor!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: smut, age gap (Joel is 36 reader is 25) infidelity/cheating (done to the readers bf) dom/sub, daddy kink, unprotected piv, praise kink, pet names: baby, angel, sweetness, petal, fluff, consent, some angst??pussy play, we can’t fuck, but we can do other things! Joel is a real good filthy talker, reader and Joel are down bad for one another, helping hand vibes, fwb/fuck buddy, smut with no plot, reader has no physical descriptions but keeps her genitalia groomed, +18 minors dni!

main masterlist masterlist

You had been fucking your ridiculous, sinfully hot neighbor for the entirety of the summer. It started off as some innocent nonchalant flirting that you thought was harmless. What your boyfriend didn’t know, wouldn’t harm him, right? Besides, you were feeling deeply neglected in your current relationship. The honeymoon phase had worn off, and you were feeling frustrated and lonely on most nights. Guess football and guys night held a higher importance than his relationship with you. Well, so be it then. You could play the good little girlfriend that your boyfriend wanted you to be..and still have your cake and eat it.

That’s why falling head over heels for your neighbor Joel Miller was as easy as sliced pie. It was early June when you found a bouquet of fresh wildflowers on your front porch step with a note attached to one of the stems. It read, ‘Out of all the flowers in the patch, you are by far the prettiest petal.’ -J.M

So, he was hot and poetic? What more could you really want?

It was the following Friday that Joel finally got the courage to show up on your front step. He barely was able to ask you if you’d like to come over for dinner that evening when you blurted out an enthusiastic ‘yes!’

Joel was hot, poetic, and he could fucking cook? Yeah, you were positively screwed in the best way possible. Not only could he cook, but he actually showed interest in you. Your hobbies, your likes and dislikes, and for the first time in months, you actually felt like you were being appreciated.

So, it came as no surprise that after you both indulged his cooking skills, that you proceeded to let him ravage you on the table. Yours and his clothes were practically shredded to the floor as he kissed and licked every inch of your skin like a man starved. He made you cum more times in that evening than you thought was even possible, and my god, his cock? Jesus christ, you’re getting wet all over again just thinking about how it felt like he was splitting you in two, filling you to the fucking brim as you cried out his name and begged for more. Faster, harder, oh please, daddy, don’t stop!

“Yeah? You want more of daddy’s cock? S’that what you want?” He nearly purred as his sweat stained curls lightly tickled your forehead. His eyes were glued to the spot where your bodies were connected. He sucked in a harsh breath as his vision glazed over at the sight of your pretty little pussy tugging his cock right back in with each of his heavy thrusts.

“See the way your pussy is huggin’ my cock so tight? Pullin’ me right back in? Look how fuckin’ pretty she is, baby. Think she is the prettiest pussy I've ever seen in my entire life. She’s all mine, right? C’mon, my petal, I needa hear ya say it.” His nostrils flared as he licked hungrily into your mouth. He was consuming every last bit of you, and you were enjoying every minute of it.

“Yours, daddy! All yours.” You whined as your walls clenched down like a tight fist around his cock.

All good things must come to an end unfortunately, and your little fantasy that had been fulfilled every evening that summer, was going to have to end. That stupid boyfriend of yours was beginning to catch on ever since he caught you faking an orgasm the last time you and him had sex. Oops?

It physically pained you to even think about cutting ties with Joel. He was unconditionally good to you. All he asked for was your company. He didn’t need to ask; it was already his.

The leaves were beginning to change with the seasons as fall was approaching on the horizon. It was nearing five in the evening when you heard the all too familiar sound of Joel’s truck tires grinding over the cement. His driver side door swung shut as his footsteps neared your front steps. He was home from work, and immediately he wanted to see you. Nothing else mattered to him except seeing your pretty face.

You were pacing nervously in the front hallway as you went over the exact words you were going to tell him. We can be friends, right? Right. After you’ve spent months in his sheets, and he in yours, you’re just going to be friends? Fat chance.

You were torn from your thoughts at the sound of his knuckles rapping lightly on your front door as you wringed your hands together, taking a few deep breaths before you grasped the door handle in your palm and pulled it open.

“Hey, baby. Lookin’ gorgeous as usual.” Your fuck buddy drawled with that low, deep, texas twang of his as he leaned his elbow right up against the doorjamb.

Oh, fuck. You could feel a gush between your thighs just from the way he was leaning against your damn door.

Stay strong. Don’t fold. Don’t fold. Don’t–

“S’matter, baby? Everything’ all good n’that pretty head of yours?” He cocked his head to the side as a frown slowly spread across his lips when he saw your eyes suddenly grow glassy as a stray tear wobbled down your cheek.

“Baby–” He started, but you cut him off.

“We can’t fuck anymore, Joel.” You painfully muttered as his hand reached out to warmly cup your face while his thumb lightly brushed away your tear.

“Baby, what’s goin’ on? Somethin’ happen?” He sounded genuinely concerned as more tears began to fall and land on his bronzed skin.

“It’s my boyfriend,” You sniffled solemnly. “He knows, Joel.” Your misty dewdrop eyes met his calm gaze as he let out a soft breath between his parted lips.

“Oh, baby..I'm so sorry. I thought we were bein–’”

“Careful? Yeah, I did too.”

“How does he know?..”

“I faked an orgasm with him the last time we had sex which I think it was a week ago? Well, he grew suspicious after that. I’m so sorry, Joel. I never meant for things to get this messy.” You truly did feel awful for dragging Joel into all of this, and you never had the intention to hurt him.

“Baby, s’alright. Y’know what ain't alright? That stupid boyfriend of yours still not knowing how to treat his fuckin’ girl right. You’d think by now the guy would have some idea of how he should be treating you.” Joel held in a scoff as his hand that wasn’t presently caressing your cheek, dropped down to your waist as he pulled you in close. “I..guess this is goodbye then?”

“I don’t want it to be.” You murmured softly as you leaned into his comforting touch along your needy skin.

“Baby, y’know..it doesn’t have to be a goodbye then.” The gears in his brain were already beginning to twist and turn as he thought of a viable solution to your little problem.

“What do you mean? Joel, i’m serious, we can’t fuck anymore.”

“Sweetness, I know we can’t, and I respect that. I’ll never put my dick inside of ya again, unless you ask. But, I do think I have a solution for our little problem.”

Your pupils nearly doubled in size as the tip of his thumb dragged down across your lower lip as he tugged the soft flesh gently. His eyes bore deeply into yours as your thighs subconsciously rubbed together to relieve the building tension that was growing in the pit of your stomach.

“What is your solution, Joel? I’m all ears.”

“Well, first, I was hopin’ I could get a kiss. Been thinkin’ about these pretty lips and how badly I wanna kiss ‘em the second I walked through that door.” He rasped warmly.

Your immediate reaction was to loop your arms around his neck and close the smidge of a gap between the two of you before firmly pressing your lips against his. You licked into one another’s mouth with the same amount of passion. You could taste a morsel of tobacco along his tongue; must have bummed a smoke off of Tommy, as his hand that was wrapped firmly around your waist, slowly drifted down as he grabbed a handful of your left ass-cheek. A surprise squeak slipped past your lips as your tongues tangled.

“So, we can’t fuck, but there’s somethin’ else we can do..” He trailed off as he slowly detached his lips from yours. A string of saliva was visible between your once linked lips.

“You are not fucking sticking your dick up my ass. Don’t even think about it.”

He stifled a chuckle before stealing one more quick kiss. “Baby, I wasn’t thinkin’ about stickin’ my dick up your ass. I promise. I had somethin’ else in mind. Can I show you what I'm talkin’ about?”

You were weary at first, because what could he possibly have in mind? Going down on you? Okay, sure. You certainly wouldn’t be opposed to it, but if that was the case, why didn’t he just say it?

“Okay, I want you to show me what you’re talking about.” You agreed.

“Good girl. I promise this will be worth your while baby.” He pressed a tender kiss to your temple before he reached for your hand. Your fingers interlaced as he proceeded to lead you up the stairs to your bedroom. Your panties were undeniably soaked at this point, and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Go’n sit on the bed for me, darlin.’” He spoke firmly, yet softly as you padded over to your bed and slowly sunk down along the comforter.

“Now, sweetness, before you start worryin’ your pretty little mind about that silly boyfriend of yours, I promise that he won’t know about this.”

You dumbly nodded as you crossed one leg over the other, awaiting his next request.

“I trust you, daddy.” You softly cooed.

“Good girl. Now, I want you to take your pants off for me, baby.”

You wasted no time to pop the button off your jeans as you dragged the zipper down. You started shimmying the denim fabric down your thighs and legs, but before you could even grasp the band of your panties, he was stopping you.

“No, no, Angel. Jus’ your pants. Keep your panties on.”

Why was that so hot.

You slipped your thumbs out from under the thin elastic band of your panties before you kicked your jeans to the side. Your mouth began to water the moment you heard the familiar sound of his belt buckle clinking open.

“Good girl. Now, I jus’ want you to lay your pretty ass on the comforter. Spread your thighs a little, but not too much.”

You could feel the wet patch pooling through the thin fabric of your panties as you slowly leaned back on your elbows along the comforter and spread your thighs just enough that he could fit between them.

Your pussy pulsed inwards the second your eyes landed on his bare cock that was hanging out of the opening in his jeans. You nearly drooled as he swiped his thumb across his ruddy weeping tip that had a bead of pre-cum drooling from the small slit. He twisted his wrist a couple times before he slowly approached you.

His lips curved upwards in a sly grin when he saw the cock-dumb look on your pretty face. You took your lower lip harshly between your teeth when you felt the rough skin of his thumb brush across your covered aching clit as he gently rubbed the swollen nub in tight expert circles. His freehand was still wrapped around the base of hs cock as he watched your face twist into pleasure.

“Y’know, it makes me so fuckin’ mad that you ain’t bein’ treated right. The only weepin’ you and your pretty pussy should be doin’ is the good kind. Y’got literal honey drippin’ between your thighs, darlin.’ He oughta start worshipin’ you sooner, before someone else ends up doin’ it for him.” He tsked under his breath.

“Joel,” You whimpered wantonly.

“I know, baby. I know. I’m gonna respect your wishes n’not fuck you, but that doesn’t mean I still can’t make ya feel good. I’ll always take care of you, angel. No silly boyfriend of yours can stop me from treatin’ you right.” He murmured as he dragged his thumb down to the inside of your panties. He gently hooked his thumb around the damp fabric before he pulled it to the side. His mouth went dry at the sight of your glistening, puffy, needy little pussy. When it came to women, he didn’t mind their choices to never shave, or to just trim, or to completely go bare. He loved their pussies regardless of how they were groomed, or their natural appearance. They were all beautiful in his eyes, and deserved to be worshiped. But, he couldn’t deny how fucking pretty yours was, and how your slickness clung to the fabric of your panties like glue made his cock twitch in his palm.

He could bite his fist right then and there, but he had a job to complete.

“So pretty, baby. Prettiest little pussy. G’nna take extra good care of her now, okay?”

“Thank you, daddy.” you spoke above a whisper as he slowly slid the tip of his cock underneath your panties. You could feel the slick coolness of his pre-cum sliding across your folds as he rolled his hips forward. A deep grunt rumbled up his chest as he nudged your clit.

“You’re welcome, baby. Y’jus’ sit back and enjoy yourself, okay? Daddy is gonna do all the work for ya.” He promised you with a chaste kiss to your swollen lips as his hands came to rest along your thighs.

Now you fully understood what Joel meant by his solution to not fucking you. Christ, this was almost better than the feeling of his cock splitting you open. How lucky you were to have a man treat you like a princess.

“Oh, fuck.” You mewled as he thrust his hips faster, mimicking the same movements as if he was fucking you. “That feels so good, daddy.”

“Mhmm. I know it does, baby. I told you this would be worth your while.” He took his own lip between his teeth as he focused on the rhythm of his thrusts.

“This is almost better than fucking, almost.” You softly moaned as he increased his pace. Your hands found his as your orgasm slowly began to build.

“Nothin’ is better than fuckin’, Angel. Jus’ so lucky to make you feel good one last time. You’re doin’ so good for me, baby. I want you to cum, okay? I want to see you ruin those pretty little panties.” He urged you praisingly as the tip of his cock continuously bumped against your clit.

He was playing your pussy 100x better than your boyfriend ever could as you reveled in the pure pleasurable feeling one last time.

It didn’t take you long to reach your high as Joel’s hips stuttered forward as he spilled his hot seed right between your slick folds. He slowly slipped his cock out from underneath your ruined panties. He pressed soft kisses to your face, a playful nibble to the tip of your nose before his lips found yours in a searing kiss.

“Better take these for safe keepin’ so your boyfriend doesn’t know I was here.” He stated with a snicker as he gently slipped your soaked panties down your thighs. “I’ll getcha a fresh pair, okay, sweetness?”

Just as he was about to get up from your bed, your hand encased around his wrist, caging him in your grasp momentarily. “Wait, Joel?”

“What is it, baby?”

“Maybe..this won’t be the last time?..”

“Baby..”

“I want you, and if that means I have to break up with my stupid boyfriend? Then so be it. I’ll break up with him.”

“Angel, are you absolutely sure that’s what you want to do?”

“Yes. i’ll call him up as soon as you finish fucking me, and i’ll tell him that it’s over.”

A wicked grin spread across his lips as he situated himself between your thighs once more. “Well, I guess you won’t be needin’ a fresh pair of panties after all, huh baby?” He teased.

“Nope. Not while you’re around, Daddy.”

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel x you #joel x reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller au #no outbreak!joel miller

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dtfpeta · 9 months

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Feverish | Ghost x Fem Reader

Tags: sick!simon, sub!simon, dry humping, p in v sex, penetration

Summary: Simon is sick and thinks he knows how to break a fever with the help of his girlfriend

Word count: 1.4k

Read here on ao3! __________

He only had a small cold. Or at least, what was a small cold. And of course he acted like a helpless animal, asking you to feed him, bring him an assortment of medicines, and help him walk to the bathroom where he would then, ask you to bathe him. A cheeky smile that he hardly tried to hide displaying on his face.

You of course, didn’t mind caring for your afflicted boyfriend.

“You can’t take another Benadryl, Simon. You just had one.” Simon always prided himself on his flawless immune system. Now that his body has been compromised by harmful bacteria he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. But thank god he had you. For the past two days all he could do was mumble and groan from the couch. Exasperated “ehhgg’s” and whines of sickness filling the living room as the over 6 foot man struggled to lift his arms, begging for your help with the remote.

That’s why it surprised you to feel the searing warmth of his arms wrap around your waist as you stood in the kitchen. Your working hands coming to a stop on the meal you were preparing.

“Si- You’ve already contaminated our living room! I’ll be damned if I’m next…” You argued while attempting to shrug out of his grasp, finding your efforts ineffective. Over the past couple days you had made a valiant effort to sanitize the house and frequently wash your hands. You know Simon would take care of you if you fell sick, but you also knew that the idea of wallowing in the two of yous illness together was appealing to him as well.

“Mm, needa break this fever-” He murmured while burying his face into the crook of your neck. Laying hot kisses in his wake.

“Then let me make you a cup of tea. Or go take a warm shower don’t-!” His hands began to roam your body. Grasping at the skin of your stomach before moving to knead at your chest.

“Not what I had in mind” His words came out breathless. Whether that was because of his aroused state, his clogged sinuses, or both, you weren’t sure. But the needy grips his calloused hands laid on your body began to have an effect on you.

“You can go a few days can’t you?” Simon responded with an unconcerned hum, a low groan soon leaving the back of his throat as he grabbed your hips. Grinding his half hard erection against the flesh of your ass.

“You’ve been so good t’me. Can you help me some more?” His fingers dug deeper into your flesh, rutting the length of his bulge languidly against your backside. “Please.” He whined.

His hand came up to your neck, his index and thumb taking your chin and turning your face to meet his. It was too late to save yourself when his lips met yours, his tongue greedily working the wet room of your mouth as his hands massaged your breasts.

You sighed into the kiss, accepting the hunger that overtook you as well as the heat that gathered between your thighs. You soon gasped into Simon’s embrace as he was now turning you to face him, one hand resting on the back of your thigh as the other moved behind you. Haphazardly pushing the cutting board to the side so he could swiftly lift to place you on top of the counter. The cold stone of the counter caused you to arch your back as you pushed your chest into Simon, who now hurried to remove your top and bra. Exposing your hard nipples to the cold of the air that had previously worked to cool Simon’s fever, which only proved to be a futile attempt as the crimson on his cheeks only grew.

Simon pulled your waist so his erection could meet your clothed core. His eyes hung low with a fevered lust as you moved your hips to work against him. The both of you moaning as Simon hung his head forward between your chest, releasing sinful whimpers as he urgently rutted into you.

“Need ya’. Now” He demanded. Your brain began to cloud with its own brand of Simon induced fog. He was so desperate that you only wanted to provide for him.

Your boyfriend hooked his fingers around the waistband of your shorts pulling them down alongside your damp underwear to your ankles. Kicking them to the floor as he lowered his boxers and sweatpants, Simon revealed his hard cock, the tip smeared with a bead of pre-cum that you reached to run your fingers against.

He shuddered at the sudden attention from your delicate touch. His body was practically on fire. Having to separate himself from you only caused him to become pent up, needy for any attention that you would provide his weeping cock. Your hand wrapped around his length as you stroked him with expertise. Heavy breaths flooded the room. He placed his hands on the edge of the counter to steady himself as you worked his shaft. Your left hand came to cradle the side of his face. ‘Poor thing’

You twisted your hand around him, your thumb swirling the sensitive skin of his head as you whispered in his ear. “Is this helping you hun?”

His head nodded fiercely against your neck. “Mmm Mhm, thank you-” His delicious whines filled your ears as he began to lightly shake. Your own sex was becoming neglected when your left hand lifted his face so his eyes could meet yours.

“Can I fuck you,” he near but begged. “I can take care of you too.” His lips connected with yours for a passionate kiss. Butterflies spread in the pit of your stomach at his adoration for you. It wasn’t often he got like this but when he did you happily let him succumb to his urges. He parted his mouth from yours, a string of saliva connecting to your now glossy lips, and Simon still pumping himself into your hand. “Make you feel good.” He enticed.

You nodded your head when he took the head of his cock to swipe between your folds. Circling the slickened tip around your swollen clit and dragging it back in between your folds. His hands came to rest softly against your lower waist, thumbs digging into the crest between your thighs and torso. He began to push his length into your hot walls, his eyes closing to keep him from cumming right then and there.

“F-fuck” He sputtered pushing himself deeper into your core.

“Simon, please” Your legs lifted to wrap your calfs around his back. Your heels now digging into his ass to encourage his strokes. Simon got the message and pushed the rest of his cock into your begging cunt. Engulfing him with a boiling heat as you began adjusting to his size. He began to move in and out of you. His eyes locked to yours as he provided your pussy with slow, hard thrusts.

Each slap of his skin against yours elicited a moan from your lips that he returned with animalistic grunts of his own. 2 days too many away from your perfect cunt, and he was never a man of patience.

Your pussy squelched as he dragged the full length of his cock out of you before bottoming out again. His hand moved to the back of your head, bringing you in for a messy kiss while the other moved to your clit. Simon was amazed he had even lasted this long and as his orgasm began to approach its horizon he worked to bring yours to as well. You gasped into the kiss. His hand quickening its assault as his thrusts entered you at a new angle. Simon pistoning his cock against the patch of nerves that lay within your walls, your hold on him beginning to tighten as he talked you through your imminent climax.

“Cum on my cock pretty girl. I know you need it. I need it.” His words came out in a gravel like tone. He couldn’t hold it in any longer when your cunt began to spasm around his shaft, milking his own release from him as the coil in your stomach snapped. You threw your head back, your mouth falling agape as Simon growled against your neck. His hot seed filled you with a satiating intensity.

“So,” your breathing now labored, “So good Si.” Your hand came to massage the back of scalp as he littered your neck with kisses.

It wouldn’t be until another 2 days when he denied his involvement in your oncoming fever. His own having been broken when he suggested a new at home remedy to cure you.

#call of duty #cod smut #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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zepskies · 11 days

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A Good Man Is Hard to Find

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader

Summary: When Beau starts pulling away from you and Emily during a very difficult case, will the pressure make or break your relationship?

AN: This is a sequel story to the Take Me Home storyverse, set just a few months after Part 9!

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, a Law & Order: SVU-esque case, angst, perilous situations and violence, hurt/comfort and fluff.

Catch up on TMH: ⤵️

❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist

You took pleasure in the sounds you were pulling out of this man.

You continued to kiss down his neck. Each of your movements was slow and purposeful.

Your hips rolled against his, brushing your clothed, aching core against his risen length. His hands were like steel bands on your hips, not letting you leave even if you wanted to. He groaned.

“I needa get ready for work,” Beau chuckled. And he pointed out, “So do you.”

You smiled against his skin, and you gently dragged his flesh between your teeth.

“It’s still early,” you argued in his ear. You teased the shell of it with your tongue, making him shudder and rock his clothed hard-on between your legs. The wet tip of his cock dampened your panties further.

His hands moved down your thighs, caressing, squeezing, getting a handful of your ass in the process. Just as his fingers dipped under the satin hem of your panties, his phone buzzed on one of the nightstands. Beau let out a sigh of disappointment and reached over blindly for it.

He saw the caller ID and took in a breath to get himself together first. Even though he didn’t quite succeed, he answered the call.

“Mornin’, Jenny,” he greeted. You grinned.

“Tell her I said hi,” you whispered.

Beau shot you a “stern” look, though his lips curved at a smile. He mouthed at you to behave.

You gave him a look that was cheeky at best.

“We caught a new case. If you want, you can meet us at the scene instead of the precinct,” said Jenny.

“Okay, where to?” Beau asked.

While Jenny gave him the directions, you used his distraction to your advantage. You shimmied out of your underwear and the overly large shirt you’d stolen from him last night. Then you drew down the waistband of his underwear and freed his cock into your hands.

“Okay, sounds g—” Beau was forced to pause on a sharp inhale.

“You okay?” Jenny asked.

“Y-Yeah. Just fine. Had a tickle in my throat,” Beau said.

"Okay, well just so you know," Jenny said, continuing to give him tidbits of information that he really should've been paying attention to.

He cleared his throat, shooting you an incredulous look. You didn’t pay him much mind as you began to touch him with care, from the weeping tip and along the shaft down to the base, even caressing his balls.

Beau’s furrowed gaze held yours as his breath faltered again. Your deft hands lined up his cock to your entrance. You teased yourself on the sensitive head of it, brushing it through your wet folds and against your clit. You had to bite your lip against a moan, but you didn’t quite manage to stifle the sound.

“Okay, Jenny. Thanks, I’ll see you there in a bit,” he said in a rush.

He hung up as soon as he could, but all the while, you were unrelenting. You finally sunk fully down on his cock, taking him all the way inside your wet heat.

Beau let out a strained groan and grabbed your arms. He sat up and pressed his forehead to yours. His lips formed a chiding smile.

“That wasn’t very nice,” he said. His voice was a bit rough, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You want me to be nice?” you teased, beginning to let the full length of him slide out of you. You welcomed him back inside with a rock of your hips. “I just need a moment of your time, Sheriff.”

He nodded breathlessly. “Think I can manage that.”

You smirked and held onto the back of his neck as you rode him. You had a feeling you would find fingerprint bruises on your hips and thighs tomorrow, but this was worth it.

It took a lot to see Beau lose control, even in the bedroom. Now, he had a hand tangled in your hair and his lips fastened to your throat. He helped you move on him with a guiding hand on your hip. You slipped a hand from his shoulder and further parted your folds to find your clit.

But as Beau so often did, he moved your hand away so he could usher in your pleasure himself. He massaged your clit until your inner walls became almost too tight for him to drive up into you. Your thighs shook around his hips, and he managed to hold off on his own release until you came, hard on his cock.

You cried out near his ear and held onto his shoulders. He supported your collapse against his chest, but he still grabbed your hip tighter and rutted into you a few more times, until he was able to spill into you and fill you up to the brim with his warmth. You clenched on him on purpose, milking him for all he was worth.

Fuuuckin’ hell, he thought with a grunt, and he panted against your shoulder. He laid a belated kiss there.

“What a way to greet the sun,” he remarked.

You laughed breathily, caressing his cheek.

Beau was, inevitably, running late for work. He found that he was okay with that as he kissed you goodbye.

You were still in your robe and holding a mug of coffee. You didn’t need to be at work for another couple of hours. Your Tuesday classes didn’t start until 10:00 a.m.

“Have a good day, baby. I…” you trailed.

Certain words were poised on your tongue. Words that neither of you had said to one another just yet. Your heart started tripping up a bit as you realized it.

Even though you’d known the truth of what you felt for him for a while now, you’d been very careful to let him say it first. You told yourself you didn’t want to pressure him, in light of his contentious divorce and how new this all still was between you and Beau…

But more often, you wondered if you were maybe projecting, considering your own rocky past. Maybe it was just self-preservation.

“Yeah?” Beau questioned. You waved him off with a nervous chuckle.

“Nothing. I don’t know,” you said. “My coffee hasn’t kicked in yet.”

He just smiled and gave you one last kiss to the side of your head before he left your apartment.

Beau arrived at the scene of the crime: the parking lot of a movie theater. Jenny and Poppernak were already there inside the perimeter of yellow caution tape while the Forensics team did their thing. Jenny checked her watch when she saw the sheriff.

“What took you so long?” she asked.

“Traffic,” Beau lied, his face warming. “What’ve we got?”

He quickly shifted his attention to the pool of blood staining the ground between his deputies. The path of his gaze led to the victim: a young woman wearing a blouse, skirt, and heels. The skirt was torn up to the hip. Her neck was cut, deep but clean.

There were other signs of struggle; road burns on her right thigh, like she had been dragged. Jenny even found a can of pepper spray rolled under the victim’s car.

“Maybe he was trying to get her to his car. She fought back hard enough that he cut his losses,” she theorized.

Beau blew out a sigh and nodded grimly.

“Okay. Let’s get started.”

Two months gave the Lewis and Clark Sheriff’s Department two more murders. Both were women, presumably alone and late at night, and in the dimly lit, poorly secured parking lot of an establishment.

Stressed didn’t begin to cover how Beau Arlen walked back into the precinct two hours before he truly had to. What little forensics they’d been able to uncover from each scene (and on the victims) let them to conclude that the suspect was male, and likely between 5’10” and over 6 feet tall.

As they now had a murder cluster, Beau and his team determined that the victims were found within a 5-mile radius. Both Emily’s school and the college where you taught were within that range.

It had led Beau to long nights spent at the precinct and in town, researching, canvasing, working with his team to lock down possible leads.

But those two months had also led him to cancel dates with you and plans with his daughter. He hadn’t stayed over your apartment in weeks. You’d spoken to Emily, and she told you he was often late in picking her up from school on his custody days with her. When she was with him, he always seemed distant, distracted.

It was all too familiar, Emily told you, and she hated it.

You were worried and becoming increasingly frustrated. Any calls you made to him to check in were a few minutes at most, before he left you hanging to go back to work.

Beau had told you this was a difficult string of homicide cases, and very little else. You knew that he shouldn’t and couldn’t tell you too many details about the case, but you also couldn’t help but feel that he was pulling away from you…and leaving you in the dark.

You’d just gotten home after a longer day than usual at work. Frankly, you were exhausted. All you wanted to do was shower and find whatever you could in your fridge to have for dinner. You didn’t care what it was at this point.

Before you could go rummaging, however, your phone started to ring. You sighed and went back to the purse you dumped on the kitchen table, and you saw that the call was from Carla. Your brows knitted in confusion. She’d been on a business trip in California for one of her higher-profile trial cases.

Carla was polite on the phone, but sounded a bit stressed.

“Emily just called to tell me that Beau hasn’t come by to pick her up from school. She’s been there for two hours,” Carla said.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What? That’s not like him.”

“I know, but he’s not picking up his phone. Is he with you?” she asked.

“No, I just got home. He has to be still at work,” you said. You restrained a sigh as you grabbed your purse back up. “I can pick Emily up.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, in a relieved tone that suggested that was what she’d wanted all along, but she still wanted to be polite about it.

“Yes, I’ll get her. Don’t worry,” you said. “And I’ll talk to Beau about this.”

“Good,” Carla said. “I appreciate that.”

After getting off the phone with Carla, you texted Emily and let her know you were coming to pick her up. She texted back:

Are you sure? I can just take an Uber to your place or something.

You replied:

No, honey. Don’t worry about it. I’ll be there in 15 - 20 minutes.

You didn’t manage to get ahold of Beau until you’d already picked Emily up from school. You braved through thirty minutes of traffic to get home again, and you stopped to grab dinner on the way.

Beau didn’t get to your apartment until later that night. You and Emily had a nice dinner of Tex-Mex takeout (though she’d said it was definitely better in Houston). He looked tired and apologetic as he went to hug his daughter first.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I just got held up at work.”

Emily nodded and tried to smile at him, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“It’s fine, I get it,” she said.

Beau knew his daughter well enough to see the truth. He sighed, but he went over to you in the kitchen next. You were putting away the leftovers. He laid a hand on your back and tried to kiss you in greeting, but you only gave him your cheek.

You didn’t meet his eyes when you slid over the plate you’d set aside for him: a massive carne asada burrito with all the sauces, just like he liked it.

Beau felt like an ass.

You left him to heat up his food and went to Emily, who was helping to clear the kitchen table.

“Do you need help with your homework?” you asked her. “I know you said you did some at school while you were waiting.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I’m pretty much done. I’ve got it.”

You smiled at her. “Okay, good job.”

The next item on your mental list was grabbing the bedsheets out of the dryer, to set up the pull-out bed from the couch later for Emily to sleep.

Beau watched you putter around the apartment while Emily settled in front of the TV with the remainder of her homework. He felt like an outsider with his own girlfriend and daughter…and there was an eerily familiar feeling churning in his gut.

Later that night, you were reading in bed. Beau stepped out of the bathroom after a shower, with the towel wrapped around his hips, his chest and arms all dewy. You had to force yourself not to take notice.

You’d been missing him—practically aching for him for weeks, for two months. You were also upset with him though, and for more than one reason.

After he got dressed for bed in a long-sleeved shirt and some sweatpants, Beau once again noticed that deceptively calm look on your face. He knew that face, just as he sensed the tension in the air.

He sighed and came to sit on the edge of his side of the bed. Or at least, the side he’d claimed ever since he started sleeping over regularly here. Somehow, his own trailer had become a bit stale and lonesome, unless Emily was staying over.

Beau watched your profile and saw the way you were trying your best to ignore him.

“I get the feeling you’re mad,” Beau said, breaking the silence. “Sorry about today. I know Carla called you…I just got caught up with something at work.”

“Carla was right to call me,” you replied, though your eyes didn’t leave the page that you weren’t reading. Beau’s lips pursed.

“Darlin’, would you look at me, please?” he asked.

You dropped your book into your lap, and you met his gaze.

“All right, tell me. Why’re you mad?” he asked.

You raised your brows with a tense frown.

“I’m upset with you. Because this is the first night you’ve spent here in over a month. And it’s not because you wanted to.”

You shoved the blankets off your body and slipped out of the bed. Beau’s shoulders sunk a bit.

“Come on, honey. You know that’s not—” he tried, but you weren’t done.

No, you were very far from done.

“I’m upset with you, because every time I try to extend an olive branch and make plans with you, you reschedule at the last minute,” you snapped. “I’m upset with you because what few and far between conversations we do have? They consist of me trying to figure out what’s happening with you, trying to share with you about what’s going on with me—and you’re either half-listening, or you’re running off before the five-minute mark.”

Again, Beau opened his mouth to argue as his brows furrowed, but you beat him to it.

“And not to mention, you forgot your daughter,” you said. “You’ve been forgetting her, and you’ve been shutting me out.”

Beau stood along with you, his whole body tense with frustration.

“Look, it’s not like I’m out there cheating on you! I’m doing my damn job!” he said.

His words hit you like a physical blow. Your mouth fell open in soft shock. Tears even stung in your eyes.

“Reminding me of Michael,” you nodded in understanding. “Okay. Wouldn’t be the first time this month.”

Beau bristled; he didn’t think it was right for you to compare him to your bastard ex-boyfriend.

“Hey, that’s not fair,” he said.

"This isn't fair," you retorted, gesturing between you both with a pointed finger.

Beau's lips pursed. His jaw clenched as he averted his gaze, so he could better hold his tongue before he said something he might regret.

Too late...

Eventually, you stopped waiting for him to answer you.

Beau saw how you withdrew, both from the argument, and from him with a sigh. You crossed your arms and held yourself when you headed into the bathroom.

He internally deflated. Shit.

Something told him that if Emily wasn’t occupying the only other sleeping place in this apartment, he’d have been booted out of your room.

Things were tense the next morning.

Beau agreed to take Emily to school, since you picked her up yesterday. You gave Emily a hug before they left, and you had even packed her a good lunch for school. You knew she had to do that herself whenever she stayed at her dad’s place.

And yes, while the teen was old enough and responsible enough to pack her own lunch, you just wanted to make sure she knew you were still in her corner, no matter what friction might be happening between you and her dad.

You and Beau parted ways that morning with tension still lying between you, just like it had been last night in your bed. After they headed out, you found yourself at a loss, feeling unbalanced.

You didn’t have a class today until noon, so you took the morning to truly think about what was happening here. Whatever Beau’s case was about, you knew it was serious and complex, and he didn’t want to talk about it, likely for your safety.

All you could hope was that Beau, Jenny, Poppernak and the rest of the team were able to solve it quickly. You even began to wonder if it was fair of you to add stress on Beau’s shoulders when he was dealing with something that was clearly taking all of his energy, and making him distant with both you and Emily.

Blowing out a big sigh, you supposed you could try to be gracious one more time. You braved the annoyance of putting real clothes on—a blouse and work casual pants, as you later would have to go in to work.

You first headed over to the precinct with your purse on one shoulder and a plastic bag hanging from your other hand.

You entered the double doors and walked in past the reception desk, then through the bullpen. You noticed right away that there was a commotion going on, as you saw Jenny leading in a man handcuffed behind his back. You almost bumped into him as they crossed you in the hall.

The man was tall and lean, with pieces of his coiffed dark hair falling over his sharp blue eyes. They found you, and his lips curved into a smile after he gave you a once-over.

His smile made a shiver of unease prickle down your spine as you froze.

“Keep moving, Casey,” Jenny ordered.

Beau was right behind her, though the moment he took in the exchange between you and Casey, Beau stalked forward and stepped in between, urging the other man forward with a firm hand on his shoulder and a stern look of warning.

Jenny and Popernak led the suspect into a room for questioning, while Beau’s hand found the small of your back and guided you into his office.

He closed the door behind him and carded a hand through his hair. He let out a subtle breath and turned to face you. He didn’t look all that happy to see you, just tense.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “Sorry, we’re a bit busy today.”

Before you could speak, he added, “Matter of fact, it’d be better if you called first next time.”

Your mouth snapped shut. Your brows knitted together in a glare, and you handed him the bag you carried in. It contained a nice hot sandwich and fries from Tonya’s diner, made by Donno himself.

“Here,” was all you said, before you walked out the door of the sheriff’s office.

Beau watched you go in surprise, with the word “wait” halting on his tongue. His gaze traveled down to the open bag between his hands, and sure enough, the smell of a good meal hit him, making his mouth water and his stomach twist with guilt all at once.

Damn it, he sighed. But lunch (and a phone call to you) would have to wait. He set it down on his desk and hastened down the hall to where their suspect, in what had been dubbed the “Fall Murders,” had finally been arrested and held for questioning.

Casey Sanderson; ex-military, dishonorably discharged, an abusive mother in his childhood and an unstable mind following two tours in the Middle East had left him unbalanced, according to his friends from his unit.

His DNA was also discovered under the fingernails of the most recent victim, Christina Mendez. Two weeks ago, her body was found behind a gas station late at night, her neck carved by a knife, and bruises littering her arms and body.

Beau entered the room where Poppernak and Jenny had already gotten started on the suspect.

“Casey here has lawyered up,” Jenny informed him, though her gaze never left the suspect. They were forced to wait on further questioning until the lawyer arrived.

“Ah, the Sheriff of Nottingham,” Casey remarked. His cool blue eyes watch with a measure of nonchalance as Beau stood behind his deputies, arms crossed.

Casey nodded up at him. “Was that your girl out there in the hall?”

Beau’s formerly calm face turned to stone.

Casey’s lips curved slightly.

“Good taste,” was all he said.

His tone was mild, yet it still made Beau’s skin crawl. And his rage built, igniting his blood. He did everything he could to temper that wildfire into a simmer that rolled just underneath his skin.

Jenny and Poppernak knew him well enough to see what he was thinking. Both of them watched him with hidden wariness and concern, especially when Beau stepped forward, placing one hand on the table between him and Casey Sanderson. Darkened green eyes met cool blue.

“Where were you on November 2 between 10:00 p.m. and 4:00 a.m.?” Beau asked.

Beau was irate when, a few days later, the ADA prosecutor called him at his office first thing in the morning to inform him of the latest news on Casey Sanderson.

“What the hell do you mean he got out on bail yesterday?” Beau snapped. “We have DNA evidence.”

“He claims that he and Miss Mendez had consensual sex earlier that evening, in the women’s bathroom, of all excuses, but they parted ways after leaving the movie theater,” said the ADA. “As you know, we couldn’t put him directly at the gas station near the theater, where she was found. The defense lawyer convinced the judge that the remaining evidence is too circumstantial to warrant holding him without bail.”

Fuckin’ hell, Beau let out an angry breath, carding his fingers through his hair. He hung up with the ADA moments later. His cell phone lighting up with a notification drew his attention, even perking him up a little, but he deflated when he saw it wasn’t from you.

Just Carla letting him know that she’d take Emily for the weekend this time, just like he’d asked. He felt bad for it, but he needed more time to concentrate on his cases. Sanderson was just one of many now, and Poppernak and Jenny couldn’t handle it all.

Beau tried to rub his tired face back to life, but once again, he thought of you. He still felt guilty, and he still missed you. Missed you like hell.

He hesitantly picked up his phone and he called you, hoping you wouldn’t let it go to voicemail again.

Admittedly, you were being a bit petty. You were screening your boyfriend’s calls.

However, if Beau Arlen wanted to see you, then he could get his ass up off that office chair and come to you this time.

You were tired of giving out olive branches left and right. You didn’t deserve to be the one left waiting and wringing your hands, wondering if this man even cared about you…as much as you’d come to care about him.

So you ignored his call—the second one today, and you prepared for your afternoon classes.

Even after your classes were done for the day, you graded a batch of papers to get them out of the way. As much as you couldn’t wait to go home, you didn’t feel like doing more work when you got there.

Another hour and a half ticked by before you finished grading and inputting the percentages into the online gradebook. Then, with a weary sigh, you grabbed your purse and your workbag and headed down to the garage where your car was parked.

You always tried to park in the same spot for faculty, in a space closest to the elevators. You found your car and put down your workbag in the backseat first. When you closed the door, you saw a figure in the window’s reflection.

You gasped and turned around. A man covered your mouth as a scream tore from your throat and echoed loudly in the garage.

He shoved you hard against the car door, but thanks to a few self-defense lessons from both Jenny and Beau, the heel of your hand came up on reflex.

It hit the man up the bridge of his nose with a crack. He shouted and reared back. When he pulled his hand back, it came away bloody. And you finally recognized him as the man you saw at the precinct: tall, thin, dark brown hair, angry blue eyes now staring back at you.

“Fucking bitch,” he chuckled. “Got some fight in you.”

Fear was a living thing inside you, but you somehow managed to force your body to move.

You scrambled for the driver’s door of your car and tried to open it, but the man shoved it closed, then grabbed at you once again. His forearm pressed across your chest and pinned you there.

The edge of a knife poised at your throat, making you freeze in panic. The blade teased your skin, hot breath against your cheek.

“Freeze, Casey!” came an angry shout. Both you and your attacker recognized that voice. Your breath was stifled in hope. Casey frowned in frustration.

Just over his right shoulder, you saw Beau holding his gun aimed at the man who held you. His brows were drawn together, his entire body poised to react to whatever Casey did next.

“Turn around, hands up high, and drop that knife,” Beau ordered.

Casey’s mouth edged into a humorless smile. “Evening, Sheriff. Up for a date night?”

He slid the blade just slightly against your skin, enough to draw a line of blood, and make you inhale sharply.

“I’m not gonna say it again! Turn around and drop the goddamn knife,” Beau snapped. “Try anything else, and I’ll make a third hole in your spine.”

Letting out a breath through his nose, Casey’s façade of nonchalance fell. He released you, stepping back slowly with his hands held in the air. The knife slipped out of his hand.

Beau stalked towards him before it even clattered to the floor. You were frozen where you stood pressed against your car.

You watched Beau stow away his gun and wrangle Casey’s hands behind his back, slapping on some tight handcuffs, and getting the man onto his stomach on the dusty ground, his cheek pressed hard to the asphalt. Beau held him down with one hand while he fished for his cell in his pocket to call for backup on the arrest.

Beau’s head lifted to catch your eyes. He gave you a reassuring look.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got this,” he said.

His voice was warm for you, steady. When you nodded, it was a jerky motion as you held a hand to your racing heart. You then raised it shakily up to your neck and swiped at the trail of blood there. The wound itself was minor, just a sting, but it was a cold reminder of what could’ve been.

The wait for Jenny and the rest of the team was agonizing.

Beau kept Casey on the ground, facing away from you. Eventually you were able to peel yourself off the side of your car and climb into the driver’s seat, just so you wouldn’t have to keep looking at the man who attacked you.

Jenny and Poppernak arrived within half an hour to haul Casey up and drag him into Jenny's SUV. That allowed Beau to return to your car and tap on the window of the driver’s side. You jolted and looked over to find Beau’s reassuring face.

“They took him. It’s okay,” he said, only a little muffled through the door. You nodded and gestured for him to step back, so you could open the door.

The moment you were on your feet and out of the car, you went into Beau’s waiting embrace. Hot tears welled up in your eyes. You hiccupped and struggled to breathe steady, but Beau held you tight and soothed a hand over your hair, down your back.

“It’s over, honey, I promise. I promise I’ve gotcha,” he said quietly in your ear. You nodded and let his warmth seep into you.

“I’ll take you home, okay?” he said. “We’ll get your car tomorrow.”

You sucked in a trembling breath.

“Please,” you agreed. “Take me home.”

“Am I going to have to testify in court?” you asked.

Beau held you close in your bed later that night. You two had dinner together and had been rewatching old episodes of Friends to take both of your minds off what happened today.

Beau reluctantly nodded in answer to your question.

“The ADA will probably ask you to, but…you can say no,” he said. “I’ll back you, whatever you decide.”

“No, I want to,” you said, even though the thought made you tremble inside. “That animal belongs in a cage.”

Beau silently agreed with you. He admired you for your vehemence, and your courage to even say that you wanted to testify against Casey.

Beau laid a gentle kiss above your brow and continued to rub your back. You both had the blankets up to your hips with a bowl of popcorn balanced between his thigh and yours. He moved it over onto his nightstand so he could curl you more securely against him. You raised your head to consider him thoughtfully.

“Why were you on campus?” you asked, as it finally occurred to you. “How did you know I was still there?”

“I thought I could catch you after your last class, so I went up to your office to see you,” he said. “But you weren’t there. A receptionist was on her way out though. She saw you head out a little while before, so I booked it back down to the garage to see if you were there.”

He was never more glad to heed his gut instinct. That was when he’d heard you scream.

The memory made his insides clench. Beau shook his head against the rest of it. He let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m so damn sorry for what happened. You gotta know, all this time, this is what I was trying to prevent,” he said, with pain written on his face. “But I’m also sorry that I shut you out. You and Em. I just didn’t know how else to keep you out of this. After what happened this summer…I wasn’t gonna let that happen again.”

With tears stinging in your eyes, you nodded. You knew now that he hadn’t meant to hurt you.

Beau Arlen truly was a good man, and that was hard to come by.

You shifted so that you were propped up on your elbow, resting on his pillow. You stroked his cheek.

“I understand. And I’m sorry too. I know that your job can be difficult, and stressful, and sometimes dangerous,” you said. “But I need you to talk to me. If we’re going to do this for the long haul, we need to communicate. I can’t be left in the dark like that again, Beau. I just can’t…"

It was your turn to sigh. "It feels too close to what I went through with Michael. Being lied to. Being told what I wanted to hear, never actually knowing what was going on, until it was too late.”

You admitted that last part with a hitch of emotion in your voice, meeting Beau’s eyes. His were full of remorse.

“I know. Again, I’m sorry. I promise, I’m gonna work on it,” he said, nodding. He planned to make it up to his daughter too. He would talk to her tomorrow.

You drew his attention back with the hand caressing his cheek.

“I just don’t want anything like that to happen to us. I love you too much,” you said. A tear worked its way down your cheek. “Beau, I love you.”

Beau grasped your hand, holding it to his cheek. His furrowed expression eased, and his lips slowly turned up into a smile. A true one, hinting at all the charm that was unique to this man. You’d missed that smile.

He dried your cheek with a gentle hand.

“Well that’s good,” he said. “Because I don’t think I’ve loved you more than I do right now.”

You laughed through more of your tears, and let him guide you into a tender kiss. One sparked another, and more, each one more searing than the next.

Beau’s fingers disappeared into your hair, just as your legs tangled themselves between his when he rolled you over, and underneath him, where he continued putting actions behind his words.

He gave you a promise that night, one that you’d both try to hold yourselves to in the morning.

AN: Ahh, I'm soft. This feels like the more "official" end to Take Me Home, though I'd be open to come back to these two if new ideas hit me. But until then, let me know what you thought of this one! 😘

Keep Reading:

Here's a drabble set directly after this one-shot. It's called A Crime of Passion:

Summary: When Beau Arlen decides to “make it up to you,” he’s damn thorough.

▶️ Next Story: A Crime of Passion

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For those of you with tag lists, Tumblr is doing a weird thing again with tags. I had to separate them 5 at a time for the hyperlinks to work on each blog! So annoying lol.

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virginsexgod69 · 1 month

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would die for a dom Daryl who’s absolutely weak for fem reader but displays that in the way that he craves hearing her beg for him, is obsessed with drawing things out and making her cum and LOVES cockwarming omg. Established but new relationship would be so cute!!! And since they’re still learning eachother’s bodies (and their own honestly because maybe neither of them have rly let their guards down in sex with others before?) Daryl makes the reader squirt for the first time and is absolutely amazed 🤭

(Wanna thank in advance because I feel like squirting is not represented very often in fics and it’s so nice to read it, as a human who experiences it myself!) <3 :-)

❝ Oasis ❞

pairing Daryl Dixon x f!Reader

cw smut, cockwarming, unprotected p in v, squirting, pussy eating

889 words

not proofread yet

You rested against Daryl’s chest as he took another drag from his cigarette. You lazily watched the way his pretty pink lips wrapped around the cigarette, wishing they were on your clit instead. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before going back to his cigarette. You were growing impatient. He’s had his large cock stuffed inside you for what felt like forever, yet he insisted on making you wait until he was through with his cigarette. You looked up at him pleadingly, but he didn’t give in.

“C’mon, Daryl, please?” You begged, squirming in his lap. His rough hands placed a firm grip on your hips, keeping you still.

“If you keep wigglin’ aroun’, ‘m not gonna let you cum,” he warned as he put out the finished cigarette. You sat up straight, looking him in his dazzling blue eyes. He put his hand behind your neck and pulled you down for a kiss, tasting your mouth with his tongue. You pulled away when the need for oxygen took over.

“I’ve been real patient this whole time.” You batted your eyelashes at him with faux innocence. You ran your fingers through his hair, pulling gently. You’ve come to find out that he loved it when you did that. A gentle grunt slipped from his lips. “Fine,” he said, finally giving in. Holding your hips, he guided you up and down on cock, thrusting his own hips up meeting you halfway. He pulled you into another kiss before sucking marks onto your neck and chest. You gripped onto Daryl’s shoulders for support, digging your nails into him though the fabric of his button-up shirt. The thick vein on the underside of his shaft rubbing against your velvety walls brought you close to the edge. The bowman pulled your tank top down, exposing your breasts to the cool air of the garage.

“So pretty,” he commented before taking one into his mouth. You tangled your fingers in his hair as your rhythm became sloppy. His dick was rubbing against that one spot that drove you mad. It felt so good, yet so strange, like you needed to pee and cum at the same time. But you didn’t dwell on it as you continued to ride your boyfriend.

“‘M gonna-”

“Go ‘head, baby. Cum fer me,” he encouraged, rubbing your clit for extra stimulation. Daryl held onto you as you threw your head back in ecstasy. The coil in your gut burst, sending a white hot orgasm flooding through you. But this felt better than your typical orgasms. A rush of liquid flowed out of you as you came. You and Daryl looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Did ya jus…” He looked down at his soaked lap with a flushed face. He prided himself in making you feel so good that you squirted.

“Oh my god, Daryl,” you said between pants. “I didn’t know I could do that.” His warm hand supped your face gently.

“Needa taste ya.” His eyes were so full of lust you could barely tell they were blue. Before you could reply, he picked you up off his cock and placed you on his work table, spreading you out. His flattened tongue lapped up your juices from your slit like a dehydrated man finding an oasis. Still sensitive, you let out gentle whimpers, everything felt even more heightened. He inserted his tongue into your tired, soaked hold. His hand groped your thighs as he ate you out, his tongue hitting you in that same spot that made you see stars.

“Yeah, right there, keep doin’ that!” You begged Daryl.

His fingers found your clit and began rubbing rapid circles on the swollen nub. Your back arched off the table as your hips chased his mouth and thighs clamped around your head. His tongue continued licking around your smooth walls, eliciting wanton moans from you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pushing him deeper between your thighs. His own hand found his achingly hard member, stroking it as he brought you to your second orgasm. The same feeling overtook you as that coil burst once again. Feeling your juices squirt onto his tongue brought him to his own orgasm as he drank them up. Reluctantly, Daryl pulled away from your abused cunt. He licked the remaining liquid off the inside of your thighs before helping you off the table.

“You taste so good, Sunshine,” he praised as he cleaned you up with his red rag. You pressed a kiss to his cheek as a way to thank him for making you feel so good.

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endlessthxxghts · 5 months

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Joel Miller x afab!reader || W/C: 618 (lil baby one today xx)

Summary: You're stressed, sad, and every painful emotion you can think of. Joel comes home, and you give him only one option in how he can comfort you.

Content/Warnings: No physical description of reader. Reader is so sad and full of emotion, she just wants Joel to help her forget. Literal porn from the get-go, so SMUT 18+ MDNI. Joel has a dirty, never-ending mouth. He talks sooo much and he talks ya through it... Daddy kink (only used twice and both at the beginning). Thigh riding. Allusion to P in V sex. Did I mention Joel is really vocal?🥴😵‍💫 Pictures are for aesthetic purposes only (credit to pinterest).

A/N: It has been a really stressful few weeks, and an even more stressful few days. Because I'm stressed, I kept thinking of Joel helping me de-stress, and this was born at 1am. I completely left Joel open to interpretation, so you can imagine him however you want! Whatever fits your sexiest fantasies hehe. This is not proof-read either... sorry about any mistakes! Much love. Enjoy.

MASTERLIST

“Just needa forget, don’tcha, sweet girl?”

“F-fuck, y-yes, daddy,” you whimper, your pussy soaked and pulsing as you grind back and forth on his thigh.

“That’s it. Just like that, darlin’. Daddy’s got ya,” Joel says, his hands on your hips, guiding the pressure and speed of your movement.

Joel just got home half an hour ago. His first sight was you, a sobbing mess on his couch. Baby, what’s wrong? He said as he rushed and crouched down to your side. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug first then grabbing his face and smashing your lips against his. Talk later you mumbled, need you you said as your lips lingered to his jaw, nipping little bites on your journey down. He pulled you off of him roughly, muttering an up as he scrambled to get himself on the couch, situating you into a straddle onto him. You were already wearing solely your underwear, so the moment your pussy made contact, you knew you were done for.

Now, here you are, on your way to your second climax on his thick muscle as he utters sweet praises in his thick, honeyed drawl that you could drink up for eternity.

“Doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, baby, such a good fuckin’ girl.”

“Almost there, baby, soak me one more time.”

“Get yourself nice and wet for me, mama, so I can fuck you real good.”

“Fuck all those fuckin’ thoughts right out that pretty little head of yours.”

My God, the mouth on this fucking man. With the help of his words, you’re so wound up, your hips are moving impossibly faster, chasing that second, much needed high.

“Please-” you let out, head falling back between your shoulder blades, your neck that he loves to mark beautifully on display for him.

His one hand leaves your hips and situates it to your jaw, gripping you tightly and forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Give it to me, baby. Give it to me, and I’ll give you what you’re so fuckin’ desperate for.”

“Fuck,” you’re louder now, your wails reverberating throughout the walls of his home. “Joel-” you gasp out.

“I’ve got ya, just let go, sweet girl.”

Your hips stutter, and within moments you’re flooding his thigh — warm, sticky, and drenched — fireworks exploding beneath your eyelids as your entire body is overtaken with a buzz only he has the ability to give you.

Both his hands are cradling your face now, caressing the apples of your cheeks as you recover.

“Always such a good girl f’me,” he says as he pulls your face into his for a soft kiss, your hands finding solace in the planes of his chest.

Out of breath, you rest your entire body on his, not caring about the mess underneath you right now. He wraps an arm around your waist, his other hand cradling the back of your head as he scratches his fingers through the base of your scalp. You hum in content.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his chest.

He uses his hand in your hair to gently ease you into looking up at him. He kisses your lips, then your forehead. “Not done with you yet, darlin’. Just givin’ ya a breather,” he smirks.

“Oh, I know, baby,” you reply, a lopsided, mischievous grin spread across your face.

He glances at your lips, then back to your eyes. “I love you,” he says. The warmth of it satiating and comforting you more than anything ever could.

“I love you,” you tell him, hoping you can translate everything you feel for him in those three, powerful little words.

He taps your rear. “Bedroom?”

“Please.”

Hi, all <3 I'm really sorry if I don't post as much this month - I really need to get my mental health back up first. I'm not completely disappearing though, I promise you that. I could never go more than a few weeks without writing something. Some of these next couple of posts may be self-indulgent and for purposes of my own comfort, but I still would like to share them with you all. Writing is an art form, a way to express ourselves, and if anyone can find comfort in anything I create, then that is why even in my own hard times, I continue to spread the beautiful intricacies of written word. I love you all. 💚

Tags: @javierpena-inatacvest @katiexpunk @janaispunk @farmerlarrry @mellymbee @jobee403 @soavenuepenguin @rainbowcosmicchaos @untamedheart81 @lilynotdilly @babygal-babygal @pedritoferg @pedrostories @akah565 @getitoutofmymind @joels-shitty-puns @its-nebuleuse @la-vie-est-une-fleur29

Please let me know if you'd like to stopped being tagged! Even if you're my moot, let me know. No hard feelings, I promise. Xx

EDIT: As of the new year 2024, I no longer do taglists!! Follow @endlessthxxghtsnotifs and turn on the notifications to be updated when new stories come out!!

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spidrrweb · 1 year

Text

4:30 am

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader | word count: 657

spiderverse masterlist ,,, i haven't wrote in a while sorry if it's messy <33 special tags: @miggyoharaswife @fadingdetectivestudent

Miguel o'hara fears love. He knows the cliché all spidermen have too well.

Losing someone; romantically, platonically, familial—whatever it was, it didn't matter, they'd never last long enough. For death only played a part in making the hero, and he had successfully became said hero without it, there was really no need for it. There's no risk if no chances are taken. Besides, balancing hero life with romance is no way to live, stress upon stress could kill a man.

But its everywhere, in places he couldn't think of—or rather places he's tried to ignore.

Love was in the gestures he'd received from you, such as the early morning coffee runs you'd go on. Miguel has a taste for strong, slightly bitter coffee, something you've learned from his many rants about others doing runs because, and i quote, "there's no point in calling it coffee when it's 90% milk and sugar."

He thanks you, grabs the cup knowing fully well he'll toss it the moment you leave, until you tell him it's different. "Small black coffee, dash of milk, no cream or sugar...but i do have a couple packets if you wanna add it yourself." Miguel declines and watches as you walk away to deliver the rest.

A chuckle leaves him once he sees the cups labeled 'Miggy' with a poorly drawn spider under it. You probably rushed it on your way back. "Unprofessional," he comments with lyla agreeing, though he doesn't mind it. Finding himself peering back to it with a smile when he goes to reach for it throughout the work day. He made sure to get you on more routes for him after that.

Love was pulling him away from his world when he's lost in his work. Hunched over, tired eyes staring at the ground, fingers tangled in his messy hair. Muttering a series of solutions under his breath before shutting them down while lyla listens. "Miguel please," he doesn't bother moving to see you, "You can't keep doing this to yourself, it's not healthy."

He knows you're right but this is his job, it's what he lives for, and you of all people should know this. He'll fight back, explaining the society needs him, this world needs him, hell, the multiverse needs him. "I cant just stop when we're getting close—when i'm getting this close to it."

You place a hand on his tense shoulder, "I can take over from here." "No, you cant its-"

"Miguel." You can feel him relax under your touch as he sighs; there's no point in bickering, you're just as stubborn as he is, it's almost admirable. His hands fall into his lap as he sits up, giving you a good look at those eye bags. "Shit, maybe you need more than just a day off." He laughs, shoulders bouncing slightly as he stands up. "You're lucky we're close, i could fire you for that you know."

You hum and take his seat, watching him take a few of his things before he's out the door. "Text me before you get to bed," he freezes at the door way, looking back at you with a raised brow. "Needa make sure you actually do it instead of getting hyped up on coffee just to come back." He lets out a sarcastic "ha" before he agrees, despite not really wanting to, then says good night to both you and lyla while he leaves.

And when he's home, he keeps his promise; the moment he puts his phone down it flashes with a notification from you. It's a picture of you with lyla in the background along with a goodnight text and a heart. Miguel finds himself staring at it for what seems like an eternity debating on what to say. The screen goes black, he shakes his head and sighs.

The phone flashes again when he places it down, now it's just the time that shows. It's 4:30 and though the thick walls will take time to get through, miguel can feel himself love.

#miguel o'hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse #spiderman x reader #into the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #oscar issac characters #oscar issac #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman x you #spiderman x y/n #🕸.writings

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gloxk · 7 months

Note

giving jjk men the sloppiest of top in the most random places?😭 like Geto asking you to suck his dick in the bathroom at wendy’s? OR GIVING HEAD ON TOP THE FERRIS WHEELL??

Giving JJK men head in random places!

(Gojo, Choso, Geto)

A/N: Hol on…wendys? Out of all places? WENDYS? But the ferris wheel? That’s actuallyy so cute(￣￣)… Anyway i kinda threw in tattoo artist geto…bc like..that’s so hot. 17+ MDNI.

w/c: 600+

─────────

GOJO! Gojo would definitely ask you to give him head anywhere anytime. He’s the type to fuck you anywhere he can. I absolutely see him asking you to give him brain while shopping. “Baby please, i’m spending all this money on you and I can’t get something in return?” It wasn’t the fact you didn’t want to give him head. I mean he’s fucking Satoru gojo. Who doesn’t wanna give him head? It was the fact he was asking you to give him head in the back of Victoria Secret. “I’m not giving you head in the dressing room, I’m sorry you’re gonna have to wait.” You looked through the pretty lace panties and bras. Picking up the cutest little thong and tossing it over to satoru. He continued to beg and whine when you didn’t give in. He threw in a couple of phrases like ‘pretty please with a cherry on top.’ & ‘Oh but you look so pretty sucking my dick.’. Anything he said went through one ear and out the other. If he wasn’t talking money you weren’t listening. “How bad do you want that new Chanel bag?” That man sure knew his way with words. Because he knew exactly how to get what he wanted from you. You turned to look at him grabbing his hand and leading him to the back. Once you found an unoccupied dressing room you got on your knees eagerly unzipping his fly. “Real bad.” You wasted no time sucking him off. Bobbing your head up and down swirling your tongue around his length. One thing was for sure, you were getting that Bag.

─────────

CHOSO! My sweet baby Choso would never ask for such horrendous things. But you couldn’t help find it cute when he squirmed while you rubbed his bulge through his pants. “Baby we can’t, we’re on the ferries wheel. People will hear or see us.” He looked around frantically while his hand covered his mouth. “If you keep quiet nobody will hear, and i’ll stay low. Just trust me.” He was so embarrassed when you first asked to give him head. He was always to shy to act on something so bold. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to see your puffy lips around of his dick. His eyes widened when you got on your knees- slowly pulling down his sweat pants. He watch as you stroked his dick up and down. He whimpered softly letting his head fall back. “Just hurry.”. He didn’t have to tell you twice. You spat on his tip watching the bead of salvia fall down slowly coating his hardened dick. One of your hands jerked him off while the other played with his balls. You kissed his pretty pink tip softly before you deep-throated him. It was so cute watching him cover his mouth hoping no one would hear his moans.

─────────

GETO! Hear me out. Tattoo artist Suguru. Oh lawd..you giving him head minutes before his client walks in. “Damn ma, I got a client in a few minutes.” He groaned looking at the time. You were already on your knees ready for him. He caressed your cheek leaving a small peck on your forehead. “Give me five minutes, I’ll be done in five minutes.” You gave him pleading eyes, you just wanted to hear him moaning your name again. He looked around and gave you a slight nod. It didn’t take long for his dick to be in your mouth. You gagged as he pushed your head down thrusting into your throat. His thrusts were deep with a punch of aggression. Shoving his dick so far down your throat it hurt. “Fuck y/n. Needa do thiss more.” His ‘s’ sizzles over his tongue creating a hissing noise. Your eyes never break eye contact with his. He watched as your pretty eyes watered as he touched your uvula. “Geto your client is here.” a voice called for him behind the door. It didn't stop him from fucking your face until your mouth was full. <3

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4 all my throat goats. <3

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tojigasm · 7 months

Note

soft dom toji?? like reassuring sex after a shitty day

"Feel okay?"

You nod, humming softly. Voice cur off by a hitched moan as he ruts into you.

"Words, kid." Toji pulls his hips back, stretch of him still thick against your gummy walls.

You can't seem to find the words. Can't seem to find the Wire connecting your mouth to your brain. Mind hazy and eyes glossy.

You don't even realize you've started crying until Toji's voice calls back to you.

"Hey, do we needa stop?" Silver eyes search your watery ones.

Sniffling, you shake your head and you can see him go to correct you before you cut him off.

"No, m'okay. Just had a shitty day."

Toji doesn't say anything, running a rough hand up and down the soft of your arm.

"What can I do?" He asks, stroking a hand over the top of your head. "What do you want me to do?"

You pull him to you and he sinks deeper into you, "Want you to take care of me."

Toji is a cruel man. Often mean and unnecessarily brutish. With the soft of you under him, his hands sift over your skin in such gentle kind that you could sob.

He unravels you, thread by thread, kissing you together with snipped and tied strings.

"Shh," he soothes, "let me take care of you."

#toji #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen #jjk toji #jjk #jjk fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji fushiguro x reader

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blublublujk · 28 days

Text

nobody knows (2)

-> part 1

word count: 3k

genre: established relationship (hard dom x slutty sub)

pairing: hoseok x reader and jungkook x reader

summary:

a few minutes pass as you entertain yourself on some random game on your phone before he messages again. daddy: if you even think of actually going out with a friend i’ll chop their dick off. me: who said it would be a man? daddy: have fun then baby don't stay out too late!

warnings: [please read if you are sensitive] hard dom hoseok!!, needy sub reader!!, hoseok is actually sweeter this time, cheating ig?, reader gets her period, explicit sexual content: idk how i forgot this last time but DADDY KINK, thumb sucking, blowjob, throat-fucking, pictures during sex, shy awkward virgin jungkook, sexting, cum on panties, suggestive language

a.n: i'd let this hoseok ruin my fucking life. this is so fun. can you tell he's my bias >.< tbh im making up all plot on spot i wanted to explore the actual relationship first before we see anything else of jk x reader. hoseok can be sweet... he needs to fuck the reader already!!! anyways thanks for being very patient with me. see you on the next one ^.^

—> m.list

—> find me on ao3 & twt

“baby.” hoseok’s lips are warm against your cheek, hot breath hitting the soft skin. “i’m off to work.”

your voice is groggy, hair a mess, but it doesn’t stop you from flinging out of bed in a pout. “already? you said we could do breakfast.”

“yeah, well plans changed. i really needa finish this song i’m working on. i’ll be back before dinner. no promises though.” hoseok doesn’t hesitate to say the words, he doesn’t look back as he fixes his collar and brushes fingers through his bed hair. an apology would be nice, but it never comes.

this is the third time this week hoseok misses breakfast, much less makes it to dinner. somehow always managing to create more work for himself and keep busy while you rot away in the dormitory. it wasn’t fair to you, though you can’t really say you didn’t sign up for this. you knew exactly what this lifestyle came with, fame and money only meant hoseok would never truly be yours as you are his and you had to simply respect that. as sad and lonely as you can be at times.

“but daddy—”

“not now angel, you’ll be good for me right?” and just like that you succumb to his strong, firm demeanor. he digs his thumb into the fat of your cheeks, flicking your bottom lip. hoseok licks his own, watching your mouth take his thumb. immediately he feels your warm tongue, sucking him in like a vice, mouth so pliant and fuckable.

he takes that as a ‘yes daddy’ the way you look up at him while you suck on his thumb like the sweet girl you are. eyes heavy and lustful.

well, if he isn’t gonna do breakfast with you as he promised, you’ll get yours right now. two can play the same game, but only one wins in the end. something tells you that you fall victim to the game anyways, it was never yours to win.

your hands find his waistband as you look up to him with hopeful eyes. he’ll probably be late if he plays this game, but it’s too much fun to resist. plus, which man on earth is known for rejecting a blowjob. certainly not this one.

hoseok tugs his pants down, allowing you to pull down his boxers as his cock springs to life. he takes his thumb out of your mouth and caresses your cheek carelessly, smearing your own spit all over it. the things he would do for that face, so pretty and willing. and all fucking his.

you get to work and on your knees immediately. grabbing his cock in your hands, you lick and suck the tip while hoseok throws his head back, feeling you slurp him down. he fails to resist the temptation to fuck your throat so with no warning he holds a tight grip of your hair and forces your head down. mouth hot and tight around him, wetting his cock so nicely.

eyes springing tears already, but alas he’s not gentle. he fucks your throat and you feel him grow larger in your mouth, drooling spit all over yourself. “fuck baby, you’re perfect.”

you moan airily, struggling to breathe as he thrusts harder, throat stretching for him and him only. just like you were made for it.

he groans, feeling that warm wet grip swallowing around him. “just like that, such a slut for it. don’t think you deserve my cum.”

you shake your head profusely, sad-eyes looking up at him while sharp eyes mirror your own. his lips tug at the end and he’s smirking watching you desperately beg for it.

he releases his grip, spit instantly drips from your mouth, covering yourself with your own juices. it’s a mess, but you both love it for different reasons. his dick stands tall and proud, swollen and wet around the tip.

he starts to fuck his own fist, thanks to you, he doesn’t even got to spit on it anymore. his dick is wet plenty. he watches your lustful eyes crave for it, practically foaming at the mouth for it. though you are still gasping for air, you wish he would just fuck it out of you again. you want him so so so bad.

your hands try to reach up at him, but he slaps them away, he isn’t rough and it doesn’t really hurt, but the warning is enough for you to drop them back down. your hands start to rub against your bare thighs, iching to release your own arousal.

“baby’s horny?” it’s like he’s teasing you, almost laughing in your face, his cock is so close to your face you can still taste it.

you instantly nod though with hopes that he’ll help you out.

“yeah? you need daddy’s cock inside you?” hoseok taps his cock against your cheek, pre-cum smearing onto it. it’s cruel the way he toys with his food, but what can he do when you react so beautifully to it. you’re just too easy.

“yes. plu-please.” you whine.

“yes what.” he barks.

“yes d-daddy. i want it so bad.”

you hear him hum pleased, as he continues to jack himself off, he’s getting close and you know it, because his eyes start to hood and he’s breathing heavier. all the more of a reason you wish he would just shove it in you, your pussy is dripping wet for it. if only he were to see himself, he would never stop fucking you!

“stand up.” he orders.

fucking finally.

with wobbly legs you stand and he rough pulls down your shorts. a hand still heavy on his cock, gripping the fuck out of it.

“let me see inside those pretty panties.”

hoseok wastes no time to nut his seed all over the inside of it, covering your bare cunt with his juices and dripping all over the fabric. you both look down as his cum decorates the inside of your panties so beautifully, both panting at the sight. “stay there.”

the taller tugs his pants back up and grabs his phone. he pulls you in for a sudden quick kiss before he takes a picture of the mess he made. “such a perfect sub.”

with another kiss, he puts his phone away and grabs your wrists, tugging your hands off your panties. your panties sit back so prettily and wet against your pussy now. they are sticky and it feels pretty gross against your skin, but you start to forget about it when you feel hoseok’s tongue down your throat.

he finally pulls away with one final kiss, pulling your shorts back on. “go back to bed baby.”

“but ‘m not tired.” you mumble, still horny as ever. cunt begging for cock. anything.

“don’t pout angel. it won’t get you anywhere. i’ll be back later. behave.” and with that, hoseok leaves to work (or so he says), leaving you wet and lonely.

to no surprise, hoseok in fact does not make it to dinner. to your surprise, he’s kind enough to leave you a sweet text message instead though.

daddy: [attached image] miss that perfect pussy. you’re so beautiful you know that?

me: you missed dinner

daddy: that’s no way to talk to me angel i said no promises

me: yeah well, i’ll just have dinner with a friend instead ig

daddy: who?

me: wouldn’t you love to know.

daddy: you know i’ll find out anyways? like you could hide anything from me

me: you’re an ass

daddy: you are what you eat

you don’t bother to reply nor entertain his not so funny jokes, but your phone buzzes again to absolutely no surprise. however the following message makes your heart fall straight out of your ass.

daddy: i’m sorry angel. i promise to be home for dinner tomorrow. is that better?

the pit of your stomach burns, really it’s the bare fucking minimum, but you can’t help the way it flips into butterflies. a smile forming on your face.

me: yes daddy

daddy: good girl the very best

a few minutes pass as you entertain yourself on some random game on your phone before he messages again.

daddy: if you even think of actually going out with a friend i’ll chop their dick off.

me: who said it would be a man?

daddy: have fun then baby don't stay out too late!

hoseok’s messages make you giggle so hard. sometimes you forget this is the person you are with, the one you share every little moment with, and the one that would absolutely kill you despite your entire past with him for thinking about someone else. someone younger, bit buffer, close to them. the person they’ve always known all their life. and here you are contemplating doing it all over again. it’s scary how thrilling it all feels. a pawn in your own game and you don’t even know it.

luckily for you and unfortunately for hoseok, there’s no dinner and especially no friend, but there is jungkook. he’s home again, earlier than everyone, as expected.

the younger follows the same routine he has as soon as he gets home. he immediately hops into a quick shower and doesn’t come out to eat till way later. busying himself with who knows what.

jungkook is a bit awkward, more nervous, and careful around you since the whole movie situation, the one where your tits were out by the end of it while he was driving holes into them with his eyes.

it makes you a bit frustrated. at this point, you're begging for attention and he hardly budges, but you also understand his fear.

“that was good noona, thanks.” jungkook picks up his plate, rushing to wash it off and lock himself back in his room.

you hardly ever make dinner like that, but you figured it would be a great way to pass time and an excuse to get off your ass and do something that doesn’t involve rotting away in bed, lonely and horny. and all very much alone. this way, you don’t have to be alone. this way, jungkook fills the empty spot and he doesn’t even know it.

jungkook is quick in the kitchen and you hate it. you obviously weren’t gonna let this happen, not under these circumstances, and not in this way. not after everything. “jungkookie, can you do me a favor?”

“s-sure.” his hands are wet from the sink as he places the plate down, eyes hesitant to look up.

“it’s just, i just got my period and my stomach hurts. a lot.” a hand caresses your tummy lightly, putting pressure where it hurts. thankful that your period arrived after this eventful/uneventful morning.

“oh… im sorry. can i help?” he asks to be nice, not denying you a damn thing.

“can you massage it?” you plead without shame.

“me-e?” he stutters, pointing at himself, flushing pink.

“mhm, who else silly!”

jungkook awkwardly laughs. “yeah okay. lay down noona, i’ll try to make things better.”

with that your back goes on the couch while you look up at him with sweet eyes. “thank you jungkookie, it feels much better when someone else is doing it.”

“yeah, of course.” he lamely replies.

very carefully, you slide your shirt up, revealing much more skin than intended (not really though). the mounds of your breasts sit so pretty like this and it leaves nothing to his imagination. your underboob peaks through and jungkook holds back a sharp gasp.

he refocuses on his mission, hands shaking as he brings them closer. “m gonna touch you now noona.”

though it wasn’t his intention, his suggestive usage of wording nearly makes you moan. you bite your lip to prevent it.

“please.” you whisper calmly, desperately.

jungkook nods and cold hands touch your tummy. they are a bit stiff at first because he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, but he starts getting a hang of it when he hears you lightly hum pleasantly.

he explores your skin, with every noise you make filtering his ear he finds what you enjoy and don’t. he rubs feather-like circles against your soft skin, thumbing over curves and your plushy stomach. you feel so warm in his hands and that makes him feel so good, too good. and the fact that he’s never ever done this before. jungkook thinks it's possible he can cum in his pants, just by doing this alone! he’s really, really lame.

“feels so good, jungkookie.”

“yeah…” he strains, hands heavier on your stomach, but they warm up feeling so nicely against your skin.

“can you- lower, can you go lower?”

his hands are barely above, around your belly button, avoiding anything further down, not sure if it is for his own sake or yours. he’s scared and it’s obvious by the lack of movement.

jungkook avoids your eyes as his hands freeze, hands weighing down on where he was last massaging. “wan— want me lower?”

“yes.” surely he knows what you mean. “please.”

“oh- okay.” the younger says nothing more.

jungkook resumes his movements, his hands going much further down your stomach, just right above your waistband. he thumbs your underwear, trying very hard to hold his breath whenever his fingertips come in contact with the thin yellow fabric whilst still rubbing patterns into your lower belly. he’s hoping you don’t hear how heavy and much faster his breathing has gotten. he’s struggling for air, face beet red. not sure if it’s out of embarrassment or his own humiliation driving him nuts.

he’s not sure what he’s doing anymore. or what has gotten into him. it’s like his dream is set right before his eyes and yet he knows he really shouldn’t be here and doing this. much less with someone like you, but for whatever reason he can’t stop.

“f-feels better?” jungkook asks, light-airy voice.

“much, much better.” you reply truthfully, your stomach buzzing warmly. your eyes take in every movement on his face. from his eyes to his nose, to the way his cheeks puff as he breathes. he’s beautiful. much more when you have him this close, and nothing is stopping you from what you do next.

jungkook’s breath hitches when he feels your soft lips on his cheek. eyes nearly bulging out his sockets because he doesn’t believe his reality. this just can’t be. no one has ever shown this much interest in him. especially not someone as untouchable as you.

it lasts no longer than ten seconds, but jungkook turns into jelly within that time. you aren’t sure why you do it, but it’s the only reasonable way you could possibly come up with to show your appreciation for all he’s done. for being sweet and patient. he’s too generous for his own good.

“thank you jungkookie, you’re so sweet.” he doesn’t even realize you’ve already pulled away and his hands are no longer feeling your heated flesh until he’s watching you walk away, hiding behind the door to your room. hoseok’s room. yours and hoseok’s room. he shouldn’t be feeling like this, but he can’t help the way his stomach twists in knots.

jungkook is left completely speechless, confused.

he shamefully walks back to his own room with no other word, skipping his night routine completely. fuck skincare, he can go a night without it. he’ll manage.

that night, hoseok arrives fairly early. well at least, earlier than usual. you’re still awake when you feel his hand on your hip, feeling his lips pecking the tip of your ear.

“you’re home?”

“yeah, got off a bit earlier than expected. did you eat?” he asks quietly, thoughtful enough to not disturb others. hoseok’s lips still softly kissing behind your ear, practically making you melt into the bed. if you could purr, you are more than sure you’d start purring right about now. hoseok has always been very hands-on, it’s what you adore about him. always making it known how much he wants and needs you.

“i did. have you?” you ask to be polite, though you most likely already know the answer. hoseok may be busy, but he never skips his meals. his discipline is insane. he’s busy, but not ever enough to starve himself. he cares about his mental and physical being just as much as everything else. and he plans on keeping it that way for as long as he lives.

“yeah. they brought take-out from that one place in downtown you like.”

that calls for your slightest attention, shifting your face from your pillow to face him, even in the dark your eyes find his. “zuki’s?”

“mhm.” hoseok steals a kiss like this, sharing a breath as he continues. “that very one.”

“lucky.” you pout, sadly with cramps still lingering around your pelvic area.

“yeah… i brought you some.” he says so nonchalantly.

the older laughs when he feels you shove yourself, full force onto him, hugging him with all your might. “really?!”

“yes, left it in the fridge for tomorrow.” hoseok pauses, fingers tangled in your blow dried hair and breathes in your sweet fresh scent. “unless you wanna eat a late night meal then be my guest.”

“well, i just got my period so...” you contemplate that damn meal, almost sorta justifying your not-so-healthy options.

“then let’s go. i’ll sit with you while you eat.” your boyfriend decides for you instead, tugging you up very gently without another word.

there’s was nothing more to say or decide, hoseok watched as you ate the meal very pleasantly, humming here and there, devouring it all in minutes. you were a very happy, happy girl. and hoseok was a happy man watching you eat so easily. he’d do it all over again if it meant he could see that perfect smile all the time.

and like that, you forget all about today and what made you upset. you are so stupid to think he could ever not love you and care for you. who else than him. even if you have heavily committed your mistakes, so has he, but he loves you, and nothing else matters.

but then again, in another room, jungkook is tearing himself up for it. even though, he’s not really at fault. is he? it sure feels like it is anyways.

at least, it felt that way after beating his cock raw and swollen. flashbacks from earlier crowding his virgin-mind. he’s so so fucked, it’s laughable. pathetic really.

jungkook tries so hard to ignore it and at first he succeeds, but then he hears a bubble of laughter coming from the room beside him and he knows he’s been beaten once again.

“i love you.”

“i love you too baby.”

that’s the last thing jungkook hears before he falls into a deep sleep, eventually succumbing to his exhaustion and overthinking mess. the crowding anxious thoughts die for the first time that night.

#hoseok x y/n #hoseok smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook x noona #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x y/n #jungkook smut #hoseok fanfic #hoseok scenarios #hoseok fic

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gh0stsp1d3r · 11 months

Text

Jealous, jealous, jealous girl pt 2

Part 1-

Request- reader and hobie get into an argument bc of how she treats Gwen, they break up, reader starts to get even angrier at people even Pavitr (my poor baby), she finds out that Gwen started to stay at Hobie’s place and she hears him call Gwen “Gwendy” (he does that in the movie and I think it’s cute) so she just stops coming to the spider society HQ all together bc that was her final straw, somehow Hobie finds her and she tells him about how really felt deep down 😔

“Look, I’m just saying you can’t get mad everytime I even talk to her.” He said as calmly as he could.

“It’s not even just you talking to her anymore! You’re hanging out with her more than you are me! You’re fucking calling her nicknames!”

“It’s just cause we’re working together, there’s nothing else goin’ on, love-“

“Don’t call me that. I never said there was anything else going on. And that’s not all because you wanna know what else I saw? Her fucking clothes in your room! Her shoes, shirt, pants. You told me that she wasn’t staying anymore, you lied to me.”

“I couldn’t tell you, cause I knew you’d get angry.”

“You knew and you did it anyway?”

“I’m sorry. Okay? I’m sorry.“ he said, but he didn’t say it in a genuine way.

“We’re done. You keep lying to me, and I can’t do it anymore.” You said, tears at your eyes.

“Wh- Y/n- Y/n, don’t-“ he said as you started to mess with your watch, going straight to the HQ.

When you entered the portal he groaned and sighed, he laid on his bed and put his hands over his face.

“Fuck.” He knew he messed up.

——————————————————————

It seemed as if he moved on quicker than you. You came to work on the verge of tears everyday, and he was laughing and talking with Gwen everyday.

Pavitr helped you through everything, staying at your house sometimes, and you staying at his. His aunt loved you.

You were having lunch with him, you both sat in silence and eating.

“So, how you handling the whole…” he asked after a while of silence.

You sighed “Not good. He just keeps hanging out with her, and I heard that she was staying at his again!” You started to get pissed off every time you talked about it.

“Alright, alright, calm down. You guys needa talk it out.”

You thought for a moment.

“I guess.. I just… I dunno, it kinda hurts to see him, yknow?”

“I get it, just talk to him when you’re ready, because I want the gang back! I miss all of you guys, and it’s not like I don’t like hanging out with you.. it’s just… better with all of you. And Hobie told me some things, I think you guys can work it out”

“Some things? What things Pavitr..?” You said.

“Just some… non important things..”

“Pavitr.”

He looked the other way, struggling to meet your gaze.

You rolled your eyes, and stood up, throwing away the garbage.

“Wait- y/n, I’m sorry-“

You left him alone, and he sighed as he continued to eat.

As she walked out, you ran into Hobie and Gwen speaking.

You hid so they didn’t see you.

“Gwendy, next time ya come over, quit forgetting your toothbrush.”

“Gwendy..?” You whispered to yourself. You knew she was being called nicknames but it was different hearing it.

You rolled your eyes, as you quickly walked past them. Gwen stared at you, while Hobie just ignored you.

Hobie sighed when you left.

“You guys still not talking?”

“Nah. I was thinking of it… but I gotta wait until she’s not pisssed off.. which is rare.” He shrugged.

They walked into the lunchroom, seeing pavitr sit there and stare at his food.

“Yo, Pavitr.” Hobie said, excited and ready to get a happy welcome.

Pavitr just looked at him.

“What’s wrong?”

“I told her that you said some things, I didn’t tell her exactly what, but she got all mad and left me! Fix your stuff man, she’s a great person, and I want her back.”

Hobie just sighed as Pavitr stood up and threw his trash away as well.

“Just talk to her.” Gwen shrugged when he looked at her.

“We got into an argument over you. That’s why it happened.”

She laughed “I’m flattered but I’m not worth breaking up over. You two were probably the cutest couple I’ve seen.”

He sighed “Yeah. You’re right.”

————————————————————-

With tears in your eyes you left the HQ, telling spider byte you’d be away for a while, her asking a lot of questions and then saying she’s got it there.

You didn’t tell Miguel or anyone else, just her.

You went to your apartment, and went straight to your bed. You didn’t even realize you were crying. When you did, you let it all out. Ugly crying felt good to do at the moment, so that’s what you did.

You cried for a good 15 to 20 minutes. Then you fell asleep.

You woke up, and pretty much did the same thing for a few days.

Jessica was constantly bothering you, telling you you had to be in.

“‘M still sick with the virus. Can’t.” You lied.

She rolled her eyes “You’re full of shit.”

“Yeah… cus of the virus.”

She sighed “Funny. Just… be in soon, I can’t keep covering for you.”

“I will.”

After a day or two, people at the HQ noticed. Pavitr, Gwen, and Hobie mostly noticed, Jessica, Miguel, And Charlotte, whom you were also close with, noticed.

(Charlotte is sun-spider)

No one bothered to come by except for Pavitr for a while.

He tried to convince you to come back, but also letting you know of everything happening.

“Alright, I gotta go, see you!” He said, opening a portal.

“Yeah, see you.”

A day after, instead of jessica it was Miguel himself that called through your watch.

You sighed “Yeah, yeah, I’ll come in-“

“You better. You know that spot guy we were looking at?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s a bigger issue than we thought. We’re looking for him right now. You have to come in today, no excuses.” He said.

“Okay. Yeah. I will in a little..”

He disappeared and you sighed, laying back in bed.

There was a knock at your front door, making you jump.

You groaned in annoyance and got up.

“What?” You opened the door, and then you saw it was hobie.

You tried to slam the door, but he stopped it with his foot.

“Hello to you too.” He mumbled.

“What do you want, Hobie?”

“I wanna talk.”

“Okay. Talk.”

“I’m sorry. I am. I miss you, a lot. And I just want to… fix things. If it’s possible, Y’Know? Im sorry for lying, and sorry for.. everything.”

You stared at him for a while, and this time he sounded genuine. He looks like he’s been… crying?

“I miss you too hobie. God, I fucking-“ you took in a sharp breath “I love you. I always have, since the moment I saw you, and I don’t think that’s ever gonna change. But it hurts. It fucking hurts. You went behind my back, and lied to me.”

He listened and stared.

“I don’t love Gwen. I love you. Like you said, always have, always will. And I’m sorry I lied.. but Gwen’s my friend, and you and her could really get along. If you’re asking me to stop being friends with her-“

“I’m not asking you to stop being friends with her. I’m asking you to not lie about it next time. Don’t lie about how she’s not staying at your place when she is.” You said, you feel like you were repeating yourself as you raised your voice.

“I won’t. If you give me another chance, I will never lie to you again. I screwed up, and honestly I’d do anything for you to forgive me. And maybe if we could go on a date.. yknow, redo the whole thing.

“I forgive you. And yeah.” You said after a while of silence.

He smiled ever so slightly. “Thank you. You coming back to HQ now?”

“Yeah. Miguel’s gonna blow my brains out if I don’t.”

#hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #spider man across the spider verse #SoundCloud

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