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indulgentdaydream · 3 months

Note

BEEN WAITING FOR THIS BESTIE

what about a tired and very touch-starved jason wakes up at like 2pm and fem!reader is out of bed??? and he comes and finds them and throws them over his shoulder and brings them back to bed???? because why would you leave jaybean by himself????? unnacceptable???

THIS IS SO ADORABLE WHAT

And the idea of people waiting for my requests to be open is so weird like… what do you mean you wanna read my writings and hear my thoughts??? Y’all make me smile so much I swear

Side note: I’m so sorry this is a month late. And then also another day late than I said I would post.

Side side note: if y’all saw me post this without the photo header…. No you didn’t

M.I.A

Jason Todd x gn!Reader || Domestic Fluff || Word Count: 758

Warnings: not completely proofread. Gun mention.

Jason’s pulled himself out of a bad dream. Not quite a nightmare, though something eerily close.

It was one of those rare nights that he had off of patrol. One he where the two of you got to eat dinner together, watch some TV, get ready for bed, then fall asleep in your shared bed. He enjoyed the chances when he got them.

He laid on his stomach under the comfortably heavy duvet. His left arm was bent beneath his pillow, his hand grazing the hidden .44 he had convinced you to let him keep there, the other arm laying in front of him. He kept his eyes closed, clinging to his last tendrils of sleep.

All he needed was you back in his arms and his dreams would turn good again, filled with the smell of your soap and hints of faded perfume.

Slowly, he stretches his right arm out across the sheets, sleepily searching for your form. It drags along the sheets, his entire body only half-asleep.

He’s aware that there’s this… itch in his skin. Not a physical itch. An itch that can only be satisfied by having your arms around him again.

Jason Todd doesn’t count sheep. He counts your heart beats or your breathing. Sometimes both.

He must be laying further to the edge of his side of the bed than he thought. Usually, he doesn’t have to reach this far to get to you when you two drift apart in your sleep.

His hand grazes the wall. His eyes shoot open.

You aren’t in bed.

He pushes himself up with his elbows. A tired, confused, and slightly panicked frown settled on his face, his hair mussed up and flat on one side of his head.

The bedroom window is closed. The door is cracked open.

Then he notices the sound of the tap running in the kitchen.

Jason gets up and out of bed, moving languidly. He pads his way out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

His eyes squint at the light you had turned on as he stands in the doorway. All foggy panic he felt before faded away at the sight of you, filling a glass with water, standing in one of his shirts.

He shuffles his feet. A purposeful noise that he wouldn’t otherwise make as he went about his day, one to get your attention.

You turn around, your glass of water in your hand. You take notice of your boyfriend’s large stature filling the entryway, a sleepy pout on his lips. You give him a smile. He can tell you're trying not to laugh at his fatigued state.

“Want a glass, too?”

Jason shakes his head. He makes his way across the kitchen, his brows still furrowed against the light.

He just wants you back in bed with him.

He reaches for your glass after you sip from it. You hand it to him. Jason takes the cold glass in his right hand, bends down a little, and wraps his left arm tight around the bottom of your bum. He stands back up, now with you draped over his shoulder.

You squeal out a fit of laughter, "Jay!"

He flicks off the light as he exits the kitchen, makes his way back into the hall, then kicks the door to your bedroom shut as he carries you in.

Gently, he sets you back down on the edge of the bed. Once you're properly seated, he hands your water back for you to finish. Seeing your bright smile makes his own lips tug into a small one.

Jason rakes his hands through his hair as you drink. He rubs his hands over his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes from a moment, trying to shake a bit of the sleep still clinging to him.

You hand him back the nearly finished glass of water. He watches you shuffled back under the covers, moving over to the wall-side. Your side. He finishes off the last two gulps of your water and sets the glass on the night stand.

He follows you under the covers, immediately pulling you close. He presses a kiss to your cheek and drops his head into the crook of your neck, an arm draped around your waist, the other tucked under his pillow. He kisses your shoulder and gently squeezes your waist once.

Your arms settle around him, "If you wanted cuddles you could’ve just asked, you know."

Jason only grumbles an incoherent response. He shuffles and presses closer to you, holding you tight.

You kiss his forehead and Jason starts to count.

Ahh!! I hope you like! This is lowkey rushed.

Also you can catch my personal headcanon of how Jason WILL keep his bed, with or without you in it, as far away from the window and door as possible. And you best believe that when you two share, you're getting the wall side so he can act as a barrier for any possible danger that may come in.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fic #dc #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood #jason todd x you #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x reader #red hood x you #cw gun mention #dc x reader #dc fic #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd x male!reader #jason todd x gn!reader

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moon7jay · 3 months

Text

Pent up (l.hs, p.sh)

Read pt.2 here

Warnings : Non con, dub con(?), morally grey plot obviously (what do u even expect from me), filth, smut

Heeseung could feel the familiar itch in his chest and palms... and somewhere else. Well his dick to be precise.

He was horny. Inexplicably and utterly horny. could you blame him? His fanbase was majorly comprised of females. Hot females. But they weren't allowed to mingle with fans and that heightened his yearning more. Like craving the taste of a forbidden fruit.

He rubbed an exasperating hand over his sweaty face, breathing heavily through his nose to get in as much oxygen as he could, the testosterone was high in the hotel room, everyone still riding the adrenaline rush from the concert even though it had been done and over an hour ago. The tension was high in their bodies still and he could feel himself buzzing with it.

He knew it was practically impossible to get pussy at this hour, especially with the whole NDA thing and it agitated him further. His balls were heavy and in a desperate need to be drained empty by a tight warm pussy or mouth, he didn't even care, he just needed release.

He mentally thanked God for being the oldest and having the solo room privileges cuz it seemed like hardcore porn and his hand would have to do for the night. He was so ready to jerk off till his dick ached.

"Gonna head to my room" he informed Jay, who was sitting beside him on the spacious couch, just in case their manager started panicking upon not finding him with the rest of the boys.

Jay gave him a quick nod of acknowledgement and went back to whatever he was doing on his phone. Probably texting his girlfriend. That lucky fucker, heeseung thought. Jay's girlfriend was hot, heeseung had checked her out shamelessly on multiple occasions, even tried to get into her personal space a lot of times until Jay strictly told him to back off. Well, his bad, but what could he do? He was just a man who thought with his dick most of the time.

You heard him before you saw him, the sudden click of the door opening startling you enough to make you jump and turn around towards it. With the air freshener still in your hands, you came face to face with the most gorgeous man you had ever seen.

First thing you noticed about him was how tall he was, looking down at you even from a distance. His messy hairs fell over his forehead , his entire body clad in a casual black shirt and sweats attire. You gulped cuz this wasn't a part of the job. You were told to ready up the rooms for some very important people who would be staying at the hotel tonight but no one was supposed to be here for another hour or two. or maybe you messed up the timings again. Oh you were fucked.

The gorgeous man raised an amused eyebrow at your deer caught in the headlights stance and that's what finally made you break out of your inner monologue and you bowed to him, body on autopilot to do damage control

"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience sir, i wasn't aware you would get here this fast, I just need to fix the bed and I'll be done" you stuttered out, hoping a quick apology would be enough and turned back around to quickly fix the sheets, spraying the freshening spray around, hoping you won't be reported to the manager for this blunder.

What you failed to notice in your inner panic was how heeseung turned the lock of the door, setting the bolt in place, basically locking you in the room with him.

You didn't notice how his eyes scanned your figure while you apologized to him, or how his blood ran hot when the word "sir" came out from between those tempting, glossed lips of yours.

You didn't notice how his eyes ran shamelessly over your exposed legs, his tongue coming out to wet his lower lip while he ogled the curve of your ass as you bent over to fix the bed sheets.

Damn, heeseung thought, his dick twitching in interest, already leaking in his pants with how excited he was becoming at the sight of you.

You jumped upon feeling two large palms grabbing your sides, a squeak falling from your lips at the unwelcome touch

"What the fuck" was the first thing that came out of your mouth, caught too off gaurd to even react properly.

You tried to turn around to push him away but before you could even move he was twisting your body, manhandling you onto the bed. Your mouth opened to scream but a large palm stopped your attempt, your eyes widened in terror upon feeling his large body settle over yours, one tight grip on both of your wrists, trapping your hands above your head while his hand covered your mouth.

Heeseung was ecstatic, he could feel how soft you were against his hard body,your tiny figure squirming underneath his harsh hold, wide scared eyes staring up at him through wet lashes, he wanted to coo, you looked so adorable like this. Just ready to be fucked.

"You know I could easily get you fired sweetheart, just don't fight this" He threatened subtly, his calm voice oddly did the trick and you halted your struggling body.

You were a broke college student barely making ends meet. Your younger siblings depended on you for everything and so just the thought of getting fired was enough to chill your bones. That just wasn't something that you could afford. Tears flowed down your cheeks but you complied. Accepting your fate.

His eyes pivoted to your heaving chest, the open button at the top of your dress shirt giving him a peak of your perky mounds, driving him crazy with his rising lust for your body.

"Going to remove my hand but only if you'll be a good girl" he whispered, his hot breath fanned your face and you nodded too enthusiastically, making him chuckle and remove his hold on your mouth. His hand instantly moved to unbutton your shirt, making you sniffle into yourself. You closed your eyes in disgust, not wanting to see what was happening to your body, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when his rough hand squeezed your chest harshly.

An excited "fuck" fell from his lips upon feeling your soft tits, hardening him further in his pants. He duck down to run his nose along your clavicle, breathing you in while he groped the sensitive flesh of your boobs mercilessly. He traced the length of your neck and jaw, leaving small kisses and bites, eventually coming face to face with you.

"Open your pretty eyes I want you to see me do this to you" he whispered on your lips, taking the bottom one between his teeth. His nails dug into your mounds when you didn't listen, making you cry out in pain and giving into his wishes.

Your tear strained eyes looked into his lust blown hazy ones, watching how he suckled on your bottom lip, opening your mouth pliantly when he thrust his tongue into your mouth, licking and sucking, lewd noises coming from him at the taste of your tongue.

Heeseung was painfully hard. And as much as he wanted to take his time exploring your body, he was too fucking impatient to do so. His dick was weeping to get inside your warm fuck hole and he was not going to deprive himself of the much needed relief of your body any longer.

He moaned into your mouth, licking deeper while his hand travelled down between your legs, moving under your dress skirt to probe at your pussy from above your panties, making you gasp into his hungry mouth. That breathless gasp and the feel of your cunt was what did him in.

Removing himself from your body he climbed down the bed while you watched him petrified. Nerves frozen in anticipation of his next move.

"Take off your panties" He instructed you while he undressed his lower half, hastily taking off his sweats and boxers, exposing his hard and leaking dick to your terrified eyes.

You sobbed, your thighs closing upon the sight of his member, it was so big and you could already imagine the pain it was going to put you in. You saw how his jaw clenched at your lack of action, sharp and annoyed eyes staring daggers at your face

"we can both enjoy this if you don't fight me baby, or I can enjoy this alone I don't fucking mind it either way" He gritted through his teeth, climbing back on top of you. Before he could reach for your clothes your small hands were stopping him, sniffing softly as you took a good look at him. His inquisitive eyes watched you impatiently.

"O-okay" You whispered and slowly reached down to take off your panties, opening your legs for him. A weird tingling feeling was starting to build up in between your legs upon seeing his leaking length. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn't gotten laid in a while or maybe you were a freak but you could feel the moisture starting to accumulate in your pussy.

He bit his lower lip upon seeing you so pliant and ready to take him. God he needed to fuck the shit out of you. "That's a good fucking girl" he whispered.

He didn't wait any longer to aim his cock at your entrance, parting your pussy lips and breaching the opening of your cunt, a pained moan leaving your lips while he groaned in satisfaction at the feeling of your snug walls.

Your hands held onto his shoulders, your back arching at the feeling of him forcing himself inside of you so roughly, burying himself in your womb to the hilt.

"fuck yeah baby" He groaned upon feeling his balls slap your asscheeks, finally fitting his entire dick inside your warm and tight pussy.

He didn't give you time to adjust, his hips moving on pure animal instinct to fuck. You screamed in pain at his brutal movements but the constant bumping of his dick into your cervix was making your eyes roll back into your head.

His hips moved against yours roughly, pelvic smacking sounds filling up your senses. Heeseung's mind was focused on the singular thought of your pussy, brows furrowed and mouth open as he moved his dick in and out of you, enjoying the tight clench of your walls, giving him so much pleasure his entire body was on fire

"your cunt is making me feel so good" he panted on your face, his movements never ceasing, you could feel every drag of his veiny cock against your gummy walls, making you moan in pure pleasure

"You're getting wetter the more we fuck baby" He chuckled through strained voice, hoisting your legs over his shoulders, taking you deeper, penetrating his cock way past your womb.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, moaning helplessly as he grinded his lower body into yours, your colliding sexes making a mess now that you were leaking onto the sheets

"That's right-fuck-enjoy it with me, a little fun never hurt anybody" He grunted, increasing his pace, desperately chasing the friction your pussy was giving him

"Oh my god-" you screamed when he continued to beat your insides raw, bumping continuously against your g spot.

"Yeah? feels good doesn't it baby? giving it to you so good yeah?" he spoke, his thrusts merciless. Railing you into the bed.

Your hips chased his own, opening your legs further for him, enjoying the sex more than you were supposed to. If this was happening to you, you might as well enjoy it right?

Your lips attached themselves to his throat and he moaned, lust blown eyes staring down at you

"You are getting off to this you little fucking slut, fuck yeah " He spat at you in disgust but the twitch of his dick inside your womb didn't go unnoticed by you.

"You like when men force themselves inside your slutty little cunt yeah? makes you feel so good doesn't it baby?" His words only made you wetter, your juices leaking onto his balls.

He was busy pounding you into the sheets, the bed creaking loudly, skin slapping sounds so deafening you didn't hear the lock jingling and the door opening.

"Mhmm fuck, busy enjoying alone?" a manly voice interrupted your pleasure filled haze, your eyes darting to the side as a tall and even more gorgeous figure came in your field of vision. His eyes were focused on you and how heeseung was railing you.

Even though you wanted to hide away from his gaze, the lust filled phase your mind was in was turning you on more.

Heeseung didn't cease his movements, smirking at the spare key in sunghoon's hand, he sighed in pleasure at the way your pussy was clenching rapidly around his dick, excited at the prospect of someone watching you fuck

"little slut, she likes that you're here" he panted, folding your body in half and fastening his hips, feeling the knot in his stomach tighten.

"fuck keep clenching on me baby, I'm so fucking close" He groaned, his movements incessant, holding your hips and moving rapidly against you, harsh breaths fell from his lips, eyes focused on yours. He slotted his mouth against yours and moaned out loud, his hips stilling inside you while he filled you with his fuck cream,moaning in satisfaction.

His subtle grinds were frustrating you, needing more friction to reach your own high. Heeseung felt your hips pushing up from the bed to chase his dick and chuckled in disbelief

"you want more dick?" he asked pulling out of you with a pop and watching his thick cum leak out of your hole. You nodded, your hand moving down to circle on your clit, arching into your own touch like a literal sex hungry slut.

"fuck that's hot" sunghoon groaned and your eyes moved to him, his hand squeezed his bulge from above his pants while he watched your movements with hungry eyes. In your sex drunk haze you had forgotten he was even there. You opened your legs further, showing him what you were doing.

"You can stick it inside of her you know, bet she wants it bad" heeseung taunted at him, climbing down the bed and taking a seat on the couch across from it.

Sunghoon was scurrying to unzip his pants as soon as he understood the meaning of heeseung's words and before you knew he was settling over your body, rubbing his dick against your slit, making you bite your lower lip in anticipation of getting dicked down again.

"Where did you even find her, I thought we weren't supposed to fuck fans" He asked looking over at heeseung briefly before pushing himself inside you with a pained groan. You screamed at the sudden penetration, body squirming.

"so fucking tight" he let out through gritted teeth, snapping his hips into yours impatiently.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and arched your body into him. God he was so much bigger than heeseung, your pussy felt so full, you could already feel your high approaching.

"She's not a fan" heeseung groaned gruffly, making you glance over at him, your pussy clenched crazily upon seeing how he sat manspreading on the couch, his dick in his palm, jerking off while he watched you.

Sunghoon didn't question him further, at this point he couldn't care less about who you were, he just wanted to fuck your pussy and that's all that mattered to him.

His hands moved down to help you wrap your legs around his waist and he started thrusting inside of you, a pleasurable groan leaving him upon feeling your wet snatch

"warm and wet, she's like every guy's fucking wet dream" He grunted, his hips snapping rapidly into yours, fucking his dick into your fuck hole in a frenzy. He wasn't going to last long.

"she is isn't she, fucking slut, fuck her pussy , beat it till it's red and raw" Heeseung panted through gritted teeth, his movements fastening on his dick, squeezing his balls and sighing in the overwhelming pleasure.

"fuck yeah" sunghoon groaned and adjusted his hips to reach inside you deeper, making you moan in pleasure, incoherent words falling from your lips, you could taste your orgasm on the the tip of your tongue. "Such good pussy fuck yeah you should get paid for it" He chuckled breathlessly and you moaned at his words. No one had ever talked to you this way.

Your hips chased his dick desperately, fucking yourself back on him

"Yeah you like this don't you? - holy shit-like when men use your tight little cunt to jerk off their dicks don't u baby?" sunghoon panted on your face and you moaned, nodding your head while he pounded you into the sheets

"Cum In her hoon, fill that filthy pussy to the brim" heeseung moaned, his hips lifting off the couch as he watched your grinding bodies fucking like animals on the bed. Hot pleasure was running through his viens and he could feel himself close to another release.

"Shit yeah, so good, feels so good, yeah mhmmnfuck" sunghoon rambled burying his nose into the crook of your neck as his hips grinded into yours, feeling so close, so close, so-

A gutteral moan ripped from his throat and he was coming undone inside of your cunt,the feeling of his warm cum pushing you over the edge, moans and groans filling up the room

"fuck, fuck, fuck ugh God" Heeseung gasped, spilling his cum all over his hand and thighs, his stomach clenching and caving upon feeling such mind numbing pleasure.

Sunghoon's body fell upon yours, grinding a few times to properly fill you with his cum and then he was pulling out of your abused cunt. Groaning upon seeing the mess you were making on the sheets.

Your head lulled to the side in exhaustion, body so sore and mind so numb that you didn't even notice the flash going off as sunghoon captured the sight of your leaking pussy on his phone, saving it in his jerk off folder. He was quick to adjust his dick inside his pants and climb down the bed

"thanks man I needed that" He said and winked at heeseung. Heeseung nodded at him and watched as he left the room fully satisfied. His eyes fell on your spent and naked figure on the bed and he could feel his dick twitch in interest again. Fuck.

Before he could decide against it, he was picking up his phone and dialing jake's number

"Hello?" came jake's muffled voice from the speaker

"Come over to my room and bring Jay with you, I've got the perfect thing for you to relieve the pent up tension"

"Is it your ps5? Because I don't-

"It's a pussy"

Heeseung smiled upon hearing the instant scurrying he could hear over the speaker and he faintly heard jake calling jay's name before he hung up on him.

The night was going to be so so long.

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen smut #enhypen #enhypen hard hours #enha #heeseung smut #lee heeseung #park sunghoon #jay smut #sim jake smut #lee heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #sunghoon smut #park jeongseong

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crashandlivewrites · 1 month

Text

Cherry Pie

A wondering happy birthday to my sweet Cherry @soapsgf who wanted some soft and sweet romantic smut with big dicked Simon. This one's for you, darling <33

Pairing: Simon Riley x fem!reader (Cherry)

Summary: It's been a while since you've been intimate with a partner, and Simon takes good care of you.

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering, consent checks, first time between partners, big dick Simon, unprotected piv, creampie

Word Count: 4.2k :))))

Simon was your first partner after a long, long stint of failed dates. You’d met him by chance, out one night with a group of friends when you’d bumped into a solid mass of muscle walking out of a bar. He’d caught you, set you right on your feet with a few words of being careful of your surroundings before seemingly melting into the shadows, despite his size.

The next morning, you’d stopped by a local cafe. The barista called your name and you grabbed your drink, spinning around quickly only to have a heavy set of hands grip you tightly. Panicking for a moment, you looked up, ready to try and fight off your attacker, when you took in the strangely familiar face.

“You’re… you…”

“That’s twice within twelve hours, sweetheart. Starting to think you’re making a habit of this.” His voice was accented, deep, and gravelly, making your hair stand on end.

“I didn’t meant to— I’m sorry—”

“It’s fine, doll. You couldn’t take me out even if you tried.” He huffed out a chortle at that and you felt your face shift into an expression of mild amusement. Then, with a surge of confidence you weren’t even aware you possessed, you met the heavy gaze of his dark eyes.

“No, but I can give you my number, and then maybe you can take me out instead.”

The man blinked, the smile still ghosting on his cheeks as he tilted his head, watching you. Suddenly, it felt like he was scrutinising every aspect of your appearance and you ducked your head, feeling your face heat.

“Ah forget it, sorry, I just—” You’d moved to exit the cafe, but a firm arm wrapped around your waist.

“I’ll take you up on that offer, if it’s still on the table.” Blinking in surprise, you looked up at him. One corner of his lips was twitched up into a smirk, his brow slightly raised and you couldn’t help but feel your lips pull into a grin as you nodded.

“Name’s Simon.” He told you as you quickly scribbled your number on a piece of paper. As you handed it to him, he opened in and frowned slightly. “No name?”

“Take me on that date, Simon, and you might be lucky enough to get it.” The smile that broke out on his face made your stomach flip, and somehow you knew this was the start of something.

•

Several months down, you and Simon had settled into a steady routine. Whenever he was back from deployment, he slotted himself neatly into your life, as if he hadn’t missed a beat. It was refreshing, to have someone like him, someone who was willing to work through things, instead of ignoring them.

Including sex.

You’d first breached the topic with him a few months in. He’d come back from deployment and there was something about him in his gear, still sweaty and dirty from his time out. Simon had stood there, leaning against your doorframe as you’d opened the door and you felt your heart rate pick up.

The look in your eyes had clearly sparked something in him, and he surged inside, kicking the door closed and pressing his mouth to yours. He steered you towards the couch pressing you against the back of it before one of his hands ran up the back of your leg roughly, hitching it around his waist.

In a moment of panic, realising where this was going, you broke the kiss, a firm hand placed in the centre of his chest. Though his brows furrowed, he acknowledged the look on your eyes, and slowly let you down. Fear bubbled inside you at the thought of possibly upsetting him, but he placed a reassuring hand on your cheek.

“It’s alright, doll. Just talk to me.”

“It’s… been a while.”

“We don’t have to do anything,” He said gently, thumb stroking your cheekbone. “Not until you’re ready.”

“But you want it—” A thumb pressed against your lips, stopping your words before you could finish your sentence.

“It doesn’t matter what I want, lovie. If you’re not feeling it, or you’re not ready, I’m not going to force it.”

Swallowing thickly, you looked up into his earnest eyes and realised that, yes, he’s different from the rest.

“I still want to kiss you, though.” Your words were softly spoken, but were met with a chuckle as Simon tilted your head back, cupping your head.

“Kissing I can definitely do for you.”

•

The time came a month or so later. Simon had messaged in the early afternoon, telling you to get all dolled up and pretty because he was going to take you out for the evening. He turned up at your doorstep, dressed in cleanly pressed black pants with a black button-down shirt he’d rolled up to expose his thick forearms. You couldn’t help but let your mouth drop open slightly as he leaned against your bedroom door, watching you as you fiddled with your hair.

Turning around, you got a better look at him, allowing your eyes to unabashedly trace over his broad, thick body. Chuckling, Simon stepped forward, making his way over to you. As he stood in front of you, the soothing scent of cologne wafted over towards you. Unable to stop the sound, you let out a breathy whine and he smirked.

“See something you like, doll?” His hands slid up and down your sides before leaning down to press a kiss against your cheek. “Come on, we’ll be late.”

He’d made you feel spoiled, treating you to an exquisite dinner at some ridiculously fancy place. You were unable to stop your eyes flitting over to him and admiring just how damn attractive he was as the pair of you sat in the low ambient lighting of the restaurant. Finally as you were headed back home, you were struck with the idea that maybe, just maybe, you felt ready. Simon had always made you feel safe, why should this be any different?

When you arrived home, Simon knelt down, lifting one of your legs up gently to remove your shoes. Placing a soft kiss to your knee, he gently lowered it back down with a hand on the back of your calf. He repeated the process on the other leg before pushing himself up to press a kiss to your cheek. He made a move to walk away, but your hand on his wrist stopped him.

Though you didn’t talk right away, Simon stood there patiently, waiting for you to find the words.

“Simon...” You murmured trailing off as the words evaded you, choosing to flutter your lashes up at him instead. He looked at you, eyes darkened, tilting his head slightly as he calculated his next words

“What’s on your mind, doll?”

“I want you.” The words were soft, but firm. Simon, the tease that he was, lifted a brow in mock surprise.

“You want me to do what?” He smirked, staring down at you expectantly. The grip you had on his wrist tightened.

“I’m ready. And I want— no— need you to fuck me, Simon.” You could see the change in him, as if a switch had flicked over in his mind.

“Are you sure?” His voice was rough, layered thickly with desire, but still present enough to look deep into your eyes. “Need to hear those words again, pretty girl.”

“Yes, Simon,” You assured him, chest rising and falling as you breathed heavily, “I want you.”

The words broke his resolve and he dove in to seal his lips against yours, moaning softly at the contact. He’d kissed you countless times before, but even you could feel the difference in this one. It was intense and heated, his hands sliding up and down your back and squeezing at your body before he quickly pulled back, panting.

“Anything that’s too much— too quick— too rough, you tell me, promise?” The gruffness made your hair stand on end, and you shivered in his arms.

“I promise, Si.” Groaning, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck, one large hand cupping the back of your head as he nipped along the column of your throat.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good lovie, I promise.” Letting out a soft whine, you ran your hands down his chest, squeezing the soft flesh around his waist as you pulled him closer to you, pressing your hips forward. Simon’s breath hitched before he let out a growl.

“Bedroom. Now.”

The pair of you hurriedly made your way to the bedroom, mouths never leaving each other’s as you finally felt the doorknob and pushed it open. Having barely stepped into your room, he broke the kiss, spinning you around so he could tug down the zipper of your dress. Moaning softly, he allowed his hands to caress your bare skin as he mouthed up your neck once more. The dress fell to the floor, leaving you almost bare compared to his mostly clothed body.

He spun you around and, with frightening ease, Simon lifted you up, hooking your legs around his waist as he strode quickly over to the bed. Placing you down gently, he pushed you back so you hit the pillows. Nudging your legs apart with his thighs, he ran his hands over your legs, cupped your ass before sliding up your back.

“So fucking pretty for me.” He whispered, eyes heady as they stared down at you, hair fanning over the pillow as your chest rose and fell rapidly. Unable to hold himself back, Simon threaded a hand through your hair, gently pinning you to the bed as he lowered his mouth to your neck once more.

Your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, tugging them open so you could get your hands on the glorious expanse of his chest. His skin was rough, littered with lumps from old cuts and scars, and you wanted to map every bit of it. He seemed to be doing the same to you. His large, calloused hands tracing up and down your body, worshipping every inch of skin as his mouth kissed down your chest and stomach.

“Lemme taste that pretty pussy of yours.”

Pulling up, he lifted your hips and tugged your underwear off, before pausing, eyes drawn down to the drenched fabric. Running a thumb over it, you watched as his face pulled into a smirk before he tucked the panties into the pocket of his slacks.

“Still feeling alright, lovie?” A brow was raised in question as he looked at you, fingers tapping on your hip as he waited for a response.

“Yeah. Please.” Reaching for his hands, you squeezed them gently, causing him to let out a chuckle.

“Good girl.”

Settling down between your legs, he pushed them apart before dragging his tongue up your wet slit and moaning as he did so. It was wet, messy, and sloppy, but god it felt good to have someone tonguing your pussy like they knew how to.

Drawing your lip between your teeth, you cut off a moan that was threatening to break free when Simon pulled away to stare up at you.

“None of that now, doll. Let me hear you. All of you.” He grunted, sealing his mouth back over your cunt with determination. As he moaned, the vibrations ran through you, making you shiver and gasp. Hearing the sound of your breath hitching, he dug his fingers into your hips, pulling you harder against his mouth. That action made a moan break from you, hands threading through the short, blonde hair as he ravished you.

It wasn’t long before you felt the familiar, toe-curling feeling you’d only been able to give yourself and your breathing change, morphing into soft pants and pleas as your fingers tightened in his hair. Instead of changing his rhythm like you’d had other partners do, Simon kept the same, allowing you to press and roll your hips over his mouth and you needed to find the right spot.

When you did, your whole body twitched as you let out a moan, arching your back as your legs shook. Simon practically growled into your cunt, eyes flashing open to stare up at you, taking in every slight reaction you gave him. Looking down, you stared into his eyes, dark and hungry which caused your stomach to flip.

Brows drawing together, your body shivered and you reached down to grip one of his hands as your mouth dropped open as you felt your orgasm wash over you with a cry of his name. Simon grunted, letting out a moan of his own and held you tight to his mouth as you climaxed.

Breathing heavily, you groaned softly, pushing at his head, but he refused to move, mouth moving down so the ridge of his nose pressed against your clit as he tongued your cunt. He pressed a thumb to the hood of your clit, flicking over it as his other hand kept tight hold of your leg, pressing his tongue deep into you.

Groaning at your taste, he didn’t stop until he felt your walls shaking around his tongue and your hands tugged more viciously at his hair as you moaned loudly. Managing to get your foot into his shoulder, you shoved him back, looking down to see his smug grin, chin wet and shining with your slick.

“Still good, lovie?” Though his face was feral, his voice was soft and questioning. Choking out a laugh, you clapped a hand over your eyes.

“Yeah… just… fuck.” He hummed in approval, pushing himself up to slide up next to you, his hand tracing lightly up your thigh.

“Need a break?” The smug grin was back as he looked down at you, earning him a slap to the chest.

“No, but I can help you—” Before you could even begin to reach down for his trousers, he gripped your hand and pinned it above your head.

“No need, pretty girl. This is about you.”

“But you—” He pressed his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply as you tasted yourself on his lips. Tracing a hand over your chin, he pulled away, looking down at you.

“This is about you.” He repeated, with more sincerity. “For you, at your pace. Do you want to keep going?”

“Yes!” The reply was quick your mouth, barely before he’d even finished the question. A wolfish grin spread over his face and his hand gripped your hip.

“Good fucking girl.” He groaned, hand moving to trail his fingers between your legs. Circling your clit slowly, he breathed soft words of praise into your ear as you whined for him, rolling your hips to meet his rough digits.��

“Look at you. So soft for me. So pliant. You’ve been desperate for it, haven’t you? Don’t worry, doll, I’m gonna make it so good for you.”

As if it were the easiest thing for him, he brought you closer to another orgasm. You could feel the heat coiling in your gut as he kept rubbing over the sensitive bud, pinning your legs apart with his.

“Don’t hide from me, pretty girl. Let me see everything. Wanna know how good I’m making you feel, how wet you are for me.”

“Simon…” Your back arched, hand reaching out to grip his body for support. He drew you into his chest, fingers unrelenting between your legs as he held you against the firmness of his chest, covered by a soft layer of fat. Tipping your head back on his shoulder, you gasped out another moan as you came yet again.

“Fuck yes. My good girl. Look so pretty when you come for me like that. Gonna finger you now, yeah? Stretch that tight cunt out nice for me.”

Mewling in his arms, you turned your head, shaking it slightly.

“Cock, Simon. Want your cock.”

“I know you do, greedy girl. But patience for me, yeah?”

“No!” Whining, you pressed your hips back against his. Letting out a huff, Simon moved quickly. Pushing you down onto the bed, he nestled himself between your legs, dress shirt crumpled as your eyes trained down to the swelling bulge in his pants. Smirking, he raised a brow.

“Yeah, pretty girl. That’s why. Gimme your hand.” Grabbing your wrist, he pulled it down so your palm was pressed against his crotch and he thrust his hips forward. Squeezing your hand around him, you took in the full weight and thickness of his cock, and swallowed thickly.

“Fuck you’re big.” You blinked your eyes up to him, and the corner of his lips twitched into a wider smile.

“Exactly, my pretty doll. Need to make sure you’re all nice and lax for me. Need to get that pretty cunt all soaked and messy before you even think about getting my cock.”

Releasing your wrist, he turned his attention back to your pussy, where one of his thick fingers circled your entrance, collecting your slick. Smirking darkly, he leaned down and spat directly on your cunt, making you jerk and moan at the feeling. Spreading his saliva, he plunged his finger into you, and the pair of you moaned in sync.

He was a vision between your legs. Still mostly clothed, but looked debauched with his shirt pulled open and the sleeves rolled up. The black ink on his tattooed forearm rippled as he thrust his fingers into you. Grunting, his jaw clenched as his eyes were trained on your pussy, watching the wetness soak his finger.

“Look at you, so fucking eager for it. Can feel you clenching around me. Think you can fit another finger?” Without much preamble, he slid in a second finger with a low breath. “Good girl. Good fucking girl. God, you feel so good. Can’t wait to feel this tight little pussy round my dick.”

Squirming underneath him, you clung to the sheets, keeping your legs spread for him as your eyes rolled back into your head in pleasure.

“Fuck, Simon… oh my god.” The erotic, slick sound of his fingers entering your cunt repeatedly filled your ears. Panting, you reached out a hand and gripped his shirt.

“No no no, not done yet. You’re getting another in you. Come on, pretty thing. You can do it, you can do it, I know you can. Be good for me, yeah?”

You couldn’t resist. Between the sound of his voice, the way he pinned you so easily against him, the way his fingers curled inside of you…

A third finger pressed at your entrance and you sucked in a breath, eyes flashing open as you stared into his eyes. The fist you had clenched in his shirt tightened, pulling him down as you grit your teeth. Simon lowered his head, pressing his forehead against yours as the third finger slowly pressed in.

A guttural moan broke from your throat at the burn of the stretch, but also from the orgasm that he pulled out of you. Swearing, Simon grunted, his fingers plunging into you a little faster as he took advantage of your climax.

“Good girl. Fuck, look at you. Shit, the sounds you’re making…” His voice cracked as he moaned, breathing turning shaky as you writhed in his arms, pussy pulsing around his fingers.

With a low growl, Simon pulled his fingers out of you with a wet sound as he yanked his belt off with one hand and pushed his pants down. Gathering yourself enough, you pushed yourself up onto your elbows to watch him. As his cock sprang out from his underwear, you let out a shocked gasp, eyes widening as you took in his cock.

It was long and thick, with a ruddy head. His balls hung heavy, making you shift your legs wider in anticipation. The action wasn’t missed on Simon, and he grinned hungrily. Spitting on his hand, he used the combination of your slick and his saliva to pump his cock as he ripped at his shirt, pulling it open so you could admire his soft belly.

The main that left your lips was whiny and pathetic as you stared between his gorgeous body and that glorious cock of his.

“Simon please… fuck please don’t tease me.”

“Believe me, doll. Couldn’t tease you right now even if I wanted to. Need to feel your pretty pussy wrapped around me now.”

Shuffling forward onto the bed, he settled between your legs, tapping the flushed head of his cock on your sensitive clit, making you jerk.

“You sure you want it, sweetheart? Last chance to back out before I’m filling your tight little cunt.” With your chest heaving, you looked up at him through your lashes.

“Fuck me, Simon Riley. And don’t you dare pull out.”

The look on his face turned feral as he hauled you closer, lining his cock up with your wet entrance before pressing in. Your mouth parted wide, but no sound came out as the burning stretch of his cock overtook your senses. Simon let out choked off grunts, fingers clutching into the sheets as he slowly pressed into you.

Shallowly thrusting, he sunk deeper and his hand moved to cup the top of your head, rubbing affectionately before he finally managed to sink in all the way with a low groan.

“I know it’s big, I know. Doing so well for me, takin’ it so nicely.” Resting his forehead against yours, Simon inhaled deeply before opening his eyes, staring down at your face. His expression softened as he reached down to wipe a stray tear with his thumb, caressing your cheekbone in the process

“Simon!” You mewled, rocking your hips as your walls clenched, the initial stretch of his cock slowly fading and the need for more slowly rose in you. However, before you could get a rhythm going, a firm hand pressed onto your hip, halting all movement and you blinked your eyes open.

Above you, Simon’s eyes were squeezed shut with his brows pinched together. His breath was coming out in short pants as sweat beaded on his brow. Frowning, you went to push yourself up to talk to him, but the movement made him release a choked off moan and both of his hands clamped down on your hips, effectively pinning you to him.

“Don’t— fuck— don’t fucking move.” His voice was rough, on edge as his fingertips dug into the soft flesh surrounding your hips. “Jesus fuck, you’re gripping me tight. Don’t— don’t think I’m gonna last.”

Reaching out, you gripped his strong bicep and squeezed lightly.

“It’s okay. Just fuck me Simon please!”

He didn’t need any further prompting. Wrapping your legs around his waist, Simon began to shift his hips forward, dragging his cock in and out of you slowly.

“I know, princess, I know.” His voice was hoarse as he ground himself deep into you, the rough hairs on the base of his cock brushing pleasurably against your clit as he circled his hips.

“My pretty girl,” His chest rumbled as he spoke, almost whispering the words to you, “Takin’ my cock so well. Feels so good, lovie. So tight around me.”

Moaning your assent for him to continue and dragging your nails down his chest, nails that he’d paid for, he finally snapped. Lifting your hips, he angled you how he wanted, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders as he began to fuck into you. It felt like the wind was being punched out of your body with every thrust, but you couldn’t stop yourself crying out with every stretch of his cock.

“Simon… god fuck! Please, need it.”

“Fuck, baby I know. I know you do. Feel so fucking good. So fucking tight and wet around me.” Groaning, he pushed forward, placing a hand next to your head as he folded your body and thrust into you hard. You wrapped your hand around his wrist, using it to anchor yourself as you moved your hips to meet every single one of his thrusts, moaning like you were being paid for it.

“Pretty girl… so pretty on my cock… feels like fucking heaven.” He grunted, panting as he kept his eyes fixed to your face, watching every subtle shift of pleasure that etched itself onto your expression.

“Need to fill you. Make you mine.” His voice was becoming ragged and airy, signalling how close he was to his release.

“I am yours, Simon. Only yours.” Whispering into his ear, you clenched your walls around his cock, making the pace of his thrusts stutter as you felt your final orgasm of the evening get pulled from your lax body, making you gasp breathlessly.

“Oh shit.” Simon moaned, voice cracking as your walls fluttered around him. He grunted, hand gripping onto your hip as he slammed his cock deep into you once, twice before you felt his cock kick inside of you, and he came, his warmth filling you. Lowering his head, he rested it into the crook of your neck as his warm breath fanned over your skin.

It took several minutes before either of you were coherent again. Simon was first, slowly pulling out of you, rolling you over so he could nestle behind you, holding you against his body.

“My good girl. My sweet little cherry.” Soft kisses trailed down the back of your neck as he hummed softly, contentedly, his heart beating steadily against you. This was perfect, you thought, and you couldn’t be happier.

Happy Birthday to you xx

#crash writes #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #ghost x reader #ghost smut #call of duty smut #ghost cod

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shotmrmiller · 5 months

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A/N: This was supposed to be a small thing cuz i inhale toxic ex's like air but here we are.

Thinking of a toxic ex!Simon that you broke up with almost a year ago. You wanted more than what he was willing to give you— unbelievable fuck aside— and you were just gonna get hurt in the long run. So you ended it.

What hurt the most was how he didn't even try to put up a fight. He just stood in front of you, as impassive as ever.

"If that's what you want." He shrugged.

And that was that. Ever since then, you've focused on yourself and your job. Meaning no dates, no get-togethers, nothing. Just work and lonely nights with a glass of wine. That he hadn't reached out once in all this time certainly rubbed salt on your wounds.

Now you're here. Out with a group of friends at a bar, after being borderline guilt-tripped into coming. A couple of mango martinis in and you're approached by a handsome fellow. Curly, brown locks and sun-kissed skin.

"Can I buy you another one, lass?"

"Sure. I'll never turn down a free drink."

He chuckles and his smooth laughter sends a shiver up your spine. As he turns away to get the bartender, you flick your eyes at your friends. They're giving you cheeky smiles and thumbs up.

Rolling your eyes with a smile, Mr. Handsome comes back with your drink before saddling up next to you on a bar stool.

"So what's a beautiful bird such as yourself doing all alone here?"

"I've been locked up for too long. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta say, the view's quite nice."

He grabbed the back of your stool and dragged you a little closer to him, before tilting his head to the side— emerald green eyes half lidded and slightly covered by his curly hair.

"Is that right? I gotta say I also like what I'm seeing." Moving his hand from the padding of your stool to hook onto your hip, he says, "How about we move to a more private setting? Do you live nearby?"

He'd be the first guy since Simon that you've shown any interest in. You weren't ready for a relationship yet, but a distraction wouldn't hurt. And his staggering good looks certainly helped his case.

Nodding, you take out your phone from your purse to text your friends that have somehow disappeared when it vibrates, so you unlock your screen.

Take him home and I'm slitting his throat.

You flinch and look around wildly in a panic. Where is he?

"Hey, are you alright?"

Your phone vibrates again and you swallow hard before opening the text.

If his hand doesn't remove itself from your body, it'll be coming off of his.

You squeak before aggressively removing yourself from the stool, tripping over your heels. You weren't as sober as you'd like to be. The guy tries to stabilize you by grabbing your wrist but you jerk yourself away from his grip.

"I uh, I have somewhere to be." You toss on your jacket over your shoulders before running towards the front door and into the cool, rainy night.

Bzzt. Another text.

Good choice. I'd have hated ruining your nice purple comforter. It's one of my favorites.

You turn your body, doing a 360, eyes aimlessly looking for the ghost of your past life, when your phone rings. You frantically press the answer button.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

You hear him tsk. "I'd lower that tone of yours, love. I don't appreciate being spoken to like that," he says condescendingly.

Sighing, "I'm allowing you to continue this delusional 'break' of yours, but my patience runs thin. No one is allowed to touch you but me."

Your heart beats viciously at his audacity and tears start running down your cheeks. In fear, in relief or in anger, you don't know.

"Don't cry, doll. You should've known you'd always be mine. Now go home. I'll keep you safe."

Hanging up, you do as he says, wondering how long he's been keeping tabs on you— haunting you. You make a note to yourself to check your flat for cameras.

#cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost simon riley #be fr how mad would yall REALLY be???#toxic simon for LIFE #drabble

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churipu · 3 months

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𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐝! 𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹

featuring. sukuna ryomen x reader

warnings. sukuna wanted a son, but got a daughter instead (he's smitten for her shh), sukuna is modern af bye he knows how to use a phone ok, reader is called "wife", ooc sukuna bye

note. ok listen, i've been having a girl dad sukuna brainrot lately. and i even gave out a req to @rrairey (u go check out her works rn) — but i just had to write something about girl dad sukuna jsjdksjks it's on my mind 25/8 and i can't stop unless i actually write abt him (i'm lying, he's still going to be in my mind bye).

girl dad! sukuna who initially wanted a son but when he finds out he's going to be having a daughter instead, he didn't know how to feel. he thought that if he had a son, he could at least play "rough" with him. it's sukuna, he doesn't know what soft is.

girl dad! sukuna who has to secretly watch tutorial videos on the most random thing like "how to play nicely with your daughter" or "how to be nice to your daughter". but also searches up for things like "easy hairstyles to give your daughter for beginners", when your daughter isn't even born yet.

girl dad! sukuna who hates to admit it but he's pretty worried about having a daughter. finally shoves his ego down his throat and comes up to you to talk about it, and you encouraged that he's going to be a good father — but still, he's worried.

"ryo, you're worried about what exactly?" you asked the male, brushing his hair.

"not being a good father." he replies, leaning into your touch with a big frown on his face, grumbling under his breath slightly about how embarrassed he is to be so fragile in front of his own wife.

"baby, you're going to be the best father."

although your words were supposed to be encouraging, and he did feel a bit of burden lift off of his shoulders — the male still couldn't help but to worry about his unborn daughter.

girl dad! sukuna who complains about your pregnancy cravings and how his daughter is a weird baby. despite that, he will go out of his way to get you what you wanted, not caring if it was two in the morning, or five in the morning. he will get it for you and your growing daughter inside your belly.

girl dad! sukuna who grows anxious when your due date was inching closer. he took a break off from work and devoted his time to look after you, especially since you were walking for two right now. even if you did tell your husband that you were fine — he still thinks it's his job to look after you and your daughter.

"damn it brat, stop moving so much. you'll hurt yourself," he gently tugs on your arm, directing you to the couch, "what'dya want?"

"sausages and blueberry jam . . ." you tell him nonchalantly, missing the look of disgust on his face.

". . . just stay there." he walks a few steps before turning back, "don't move."

girl dad! sukuna who watches labor videos only to focus on the husbands and what they were doing in it so he could try to take notes and searches for what he should get ready for labor, or if he could do anything as a husband for his wife during labor. the results didn't ease his worries — they added up his worries. like adding fuel to the fire, the internet tells him that giving birth was the second most painful thing after getting burned alive.

girl dad! sukuna who already thought of names for your daughter and even buys things for her. telling you that he'd be out to grab a few things and then coming back with a crib set, toys, or even a baby walker. he even got a baby strap for both you and him to use, picking out the most random motives like skulls and fires.

"ryo, why did you pick that motive?" you asked, eyeing the baby strap that had white skulls all over.

"our daughter will like that. i know it." he retorts.

girl dad! sukuna who looked as calm as a cucumber but internally panics the most when your water broke. he grabs the bag that he had packed, following a youtube tutorial and helped you get into the car so that the both of you can finally drive off to the hospital. he holds your hand tightly along the way, showing his worry as he "tries" to follow driving laws (which he ended up driving past the speed limit and had to get a ticket in the hospital).

girl dad! sukuna who had to pay a ticket as you were tended in a hospital room (you didn't know about this and he didn't tell you about it so you won't worry). the doctor telling both you and him that the labor procedure will have to wait up to a few hours as they proceeded with "watchful waiting" after they checked on the baby's condition and yours so they could see if it was safe for you to give birth normally.

girl dad! sukuna who waited those long hours with you as you laid on the bed, telling him how nervous you are. and all the bad possibilities that could happen (he searched that up too), he tells you to stop saying those kind of things. sukuna wasn't angry — he just didn't want you to stress so much, rubbing circles on the back of your hand with his thumb to soothe you. he didn't let go until the doctor came back to finally do something.

girl dad! sukuna who was inside the delivery room with you, even after telling you that he won't come inside a few months ago. holds onto your hand (which you were holding onto tightly as the procedure goes on for hours), he winces — but he didn't care about his hand right now, he only cares about you and his daughter. brushing your hair lightly, mumbling out hushed praises to you (unknowingly, it just comes out), wipes away your sweat with his bare fingers and pressing kisses onto your face every single time he feels your hand clenching around his.

"jus' a bit more, pretty." he whispers, kissing your knuckles multiple times before moving on to kiss your forehead, "a bit more."

girl dad! sukuna who almost bursts into tears when he heard the loud cry of your daughter, but blinked his tears back. peering slightly at your worn out face. he tells you how he's proud of you (spoiler: he hates it if you reminded him about it in the future).

"y'hear that? you did so good, pretty. 'm proud of you," he clung onto your hand, grazing his thumb over your forehead as a smile adorned his face, "she's here, baby."

girl dad! sukuna who couldn't hold his tears back when the nurse suggested skin-to-skin contact with the father. he wasted no time tugging his shirt off to hold his little bundle of joy, nestling her in his arms — unknowingly letting a few stray tears of joy out as he coos down to his newborn daughter.

"oh, you're so pretty, little one." he cradled her gently against his bulky arms, sniffling softly. he was so gentle — different from how he used to be, his eyes soft and watery as he affectionately stares down at his now sleeping daughter.

girl dad! sukuna who slept on a chair by your bed when the doctor told you that you'll be allowed to go home once your body is fit again, he didn't care that he didn't have a bed to lie on. he was just there, prepped in a chair as his fingertips touched your wrist near the IV injection on the back of your hand. making sure he didn't touch the transparent hose. and his eyes darted back and forth from your resting form and his daughter who was now all warm and bundled up inside a bassinet. making sure that the both of you are resting well even if he was barely able to open his eyes fully.

girl dad! sukuna who carried all your bags and your daughter's car seat with ease while leading you down the hospital hallways and to the car. helping you buckle your seatbelt and making sure that his daughter is going to be safe and sound during the ride home, prepping up the car seat like he learned, giving his daughter a light kiss on her head before closing the door.

girl dad! sukuna who tells you to rely on him every time his daughter wakes up in the middle of the night — he won't let you get up, gently tugging you down onto the bed and tucking you underneath the covers before leaving to tend your daughter without any other words. as if his daughter is the most fragile thing in the world, he carries her into his arms and hushed her softly, nuzzling his nose onto her head, trying to get her back to sleep.

"shh, baby, mama's tired right now . . . go back to bed." he whispers, kissing her small forehead.

girl dad! sukuna who offered to shower your baby for the first time after two weeks upon arriving back home (under your watch of course), as you filled the bathinette with warm water — sukuna was cradling her in his arms, swaying his body side to side. and when you tell him the water's ready, sukuna prepped his big hand behind your daughter's small head so the water won't go to her face and began cleaning her. concentrating, he wets his finger and traced it over his daughter's face, making sure she's not frightened. and once he's done, he cupped his hand and scooped some water to wet her hair, rubbing her head lovingly.

girl dad! sukuna who's personality did a somersault ever since you were pregnant with his daughter. turning soft and more clingy, he has your daughter strapped to his chest. and will tell you that he's got it every time his daughter cries or ruined her diapers, he's learnt it all thanks to other great dads on youtube.

girl dad! sukuna who was even more ecstatic than you are when his daughter said her first word, which was of course "mama", he didn't care that she didn't say "dada", he focuses on the fact that his daughter had grown so much to be able to say her first word. tells your bundle of joy how proud he is of her even if she probably doesn't understand her father.

"maa..ma."

sukuna who had his eyes on the television immediately darted to his daughter who was in your hold, his lips were slightly parted as he tries to process what just happened, "did . . . did she . . ?"

when you confirmed his question, he pulled you into his arms and kissed your head before kissing your daughter's head, muttering out a, "papa's proud of you, baby."

girl dad! sukuna who treats both you and your daughter like the most precious beings in the world. he. spoils. you. both. to no end, coming home from work with a present for the both of you. mostly food for you, and a toy for your daughter. you just know [daughter] is going to grow up spoiled by her father.

girl dad! sukuna who spoils your daughter rotten. and ever since her first steps — he's been going out with her to no end, of course going out as a family of three. holding your daughter's chubby little hands as he guided her down the street, earning coos from strangers all around him.

"good girl, that's right . . . left and right." he said softly, watching [daughter] walk slowly, still a little wobbly.

girl dad! sukuna who gets a little emotional when your daughter has her first birthday — because, it's been that fast? he tries not to cry, i swear. but silently slips inside the bathroom and lets a few one out before coming out like he didn't just cry over his daughter growing up too fast. he swore it was just yesterday that he was in the hospital.

girl dad! sukuna who will with no shame, participate in tea parties with his daughter once she's known enough about it. you'd call them both down for dinner and when they didn't, you decided to be the one to approach them inside [daughter]'s room. and there he was, sitting on the floor, to his left and right were [daughter]'s stuffed animals and your daughter was sitting across from sukuna with a silver tiara on.

"this looks fun," you chuckled, eyeing them.

"mama! tea party?" [daughter] beams out at you, you walked over to them and carried your daughter into your arms, "mama, no tea party?"

"after dinner, baby. okay?"

sukuna has no shame in it. at first, he did try to decline his daughter, telling her that she should ask you instead, but your daughter looked so crestfallen that he just has to accept — which turned out to be a daily thing now. a tea party.

girl dad! sukuna who will be his daughter's experiment subject to trying out make ups. he's a little skeptical (lies, he's very skeptical), but it's not like this is the first time he's had make up put on his face. he's had his fair share of you trying to put make up on him, but this was a toddler doing it and not a full grown adult. but he couldn't say no, so he just submits to his daughter and lets her modify his face and clips on cute hairclips to his hair.

"mama mama! look at papa," your daughter cheers, pointing at sukuna. and you laugh, carrying your daughter before approaching the male who was sitting down on the floor in the living room.

"you look pretty, ryo."

"i feel pretty, my little girl did it to me." he rolls his eyes before grabbing a mirror to look at his face.

eh, not bad.

girl dad! sukuna who drops his daughter off for the first day of pre-school, telling her that she should punch anyone who messes with her (thankfully nobody yet). and gets a bit emotional again as she walks inside the building, his eyes going glassy watching her skip inside her new chapter.

girl dad! sukuna who's overprotective when it comes to his little girl. a trip to the park was a daily routine for his family — and believe me when he has eyes everywhere for his little girl, if anyone was bothering her, he would have no fear on finding out who their parent was. taking matters into his own hands, leaving the children out of it. as much as he wanted to confront the kid for bothering his little princess, he knew the parents had the most fault.

"your boy has issues. the next time he lays his hand on my girl, i will come for you." he said to the boy's father before walking back to you.

the boy and his father never came back to the park after that day.

girl dad! sukuna who watches his daughter grow from a small girl to an eight year old in a matter of what felt like a week. he swore yesterday she was just babbling out her first word, and the next thing he knows, she's got a "boyfriend" at school? oh, boy.

"you don't have a boyfriend." he mutters out, eyeing his daughter.

"yes i do have a boyfriend," your daughter replies back with her soft voice.

"no."

the banter continued until your daughter ended up in tears, and sukuna had to force himself to say that she indeed had a boyfriend in school. he's upset that she's growing up too quickly, but at the same time — he's proud of his little girl.

girl dad! sukuna who finds out you were pregnant with a second child, who turned out to be another girl. and he was still as loving and caring like he was with his first daughter, this time, he had a helping hand to take care of you.

"mama has a baby in her belly, so you can't be too rough on her, okay?" he baby talks his eight year old daughter like she's still a small baby — he softly caresses your clothed stomach as he speaks to her.

girl dad! sukuna who had to see his first daughter cry over her new "soon to be" born baby sibling. thinking both you and him were not going to love her anymore — and his heart breaks, because why would he not love his princess anymore?

"hey, hey, why're you cryin'?" sukuna tucks [daughter]'s hair behind her ear as she lets out a few fat tears out of her eyes.

"mama and papa will still love me, right?" she asks, her voice breaking slightly.

sukuna pulls the young girl into his embrace, holding her with one of his arm as he wipes her tears with his other, "'f course mama and i will still love you, you're our princess."

girl dad! sukuna who proudly watches his big girl now approaching his newborn daughter and her sister, eyeing the baby with such an innocent glint in her eyes. oh, and big girl? doesn't matter, to sukuna, your first daughter will always be his little girl.

3K notes · View notes

peachesofteal · 4 months

Text

Simple Math / Part 5

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 4.5k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Stalking. Brief mention of domestic violence. Feelings of fear, self loathing, and anxiety. Vomiting. Panic attack/comfort. Medical inaccuracies, hospital setting. A little bit of praise. Johnny is a flirt and a menace.

“Ye’re off yer head.”

“I’m not.” Johnny expects Simon to relent, to give it up, but when he doesn’t budge, something hot sizzles alive in the pit of Johnny’s stomach, desire roaring to life in his veins.

“Jus’ like that? Ye’re goin’ let me see yer bonnie face finally?” He slurs, lifting the bottle to his lips, and Simon nods.

“Only if you win."

“And if ye win?” Simon moves closer, his chest brushing against Johnny’s, balaclava covered face dipping down, noses nudging against one another’s in a tentative, teasing way.

“If I win, you’ll remove something of my choosing instead.”

Your phone is ringing.

In your sleep, you hardly recognize it, but your subconscious is well trained, and your hand seeks the source of the noise effortlessly, dragging it from the nightstand and next to your face, to squint blearily at it, awareness coming quickly when you recognize the charge nurse’s work line.

“Hello?” You clear the cobwebs of sleep from your throat.

“Hey, sorry to wake you.”

“No, ‘s alright. What’s going on?”

“I know it’s your day off, but-“

“You’re short.” You fill in the blanks, and she huffs.

“We’ve got two out with flu like symptoms, and I’m floating another to-“

“It’s okay.” You swing your feet over the edge of the bed, rubbing your eyes. “I got you. Just give me like, an hour? I have to get ready and stuff.”

“Of course. Thanks so much, you’re a lifesaver.” You zone out for a moment, plotting out the rest of your day, and mumble something like ‘don’t worry about it’, ending the call with your thumb.

The hotel carpet is plush. It’s cushioned and soft, and it gives a little when you stand and stretch, pulling your arms over your head, twisting and turning with tired bones, shaking loose the stupor that holds your neck too straight, too tightly.

OT isn’t the worst thing in the world right now, considering you’re paying for a long term stay in a hotel, you tell yourself more than a few times as you shower and dress. You should be grateful for it. Understaffing has it’s benefits, financially.

The only wrench about coming in on your day off this week is you’re supposed to be collecting more things from your flat. Particularly, clothing. You’ve only got a short rotation of outfits, scrubs, both in short supply, and… no clean underwear. You had planned to move large chunks of your wardrobe over today, probably at least two trips worth, but will now have to settle for stopping by fairly quick to grab what you can.

It will be fine, you think, casually checking your surroundings as you step off the platform. In and out and on with your day.

You were wrong.

You see it immediately, stepping through the door. The locks are in place, handle, deadbolt, extra one at the top, but you can tell, you can feel, that someone has been in here. Your blood thickens in your veins, freezing to a stop, sluggishly propelled by your frenzied heart. You can hear it in your ears, the thunder of your panic, can feel the fear twisting itself into a sailor’s knot and holding you hostage.

Your feeling is confirmed, rationalized, when you push your bedroom door ajar and see the carnage of what’s been left behind on top of your bed.

Shredded panties.

The entire underwear drawer has been spilled out across your sheets, lace and cotton and silk all ripped to pieces, torn edges clearly made by hands, not knives, not scissors, but the personal touch of fingers, of fists.

Your breath catches in your chest, oxygen in the room falling away, leaving you panting, gasping for your next inhale as you cautiously pick up a pair close to you. They’re grey cotton boy shorts, and your stomach flips up into your throat when they stand as stiff as a board, some sort of dried substance splattered across them, rendering the fabric firm and inflexible.

Not… not just some dried substance… you realize in horror, scanning the pile of panties, noticing the stains on most of them, a milky white color shining against black silk.

You can’t breathe. You stumble away, back slamming into your dresser, sinking down onto the floor, hands covering your ears.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.

This is sick, even for him. An escalation of disturbing behavior that sends a chill down your spine, frightening you even more than you already were. You knew he’d get in, hoped he would buy your carefully crafted lie: the appearance of you still living there… but to act so brazenly, to do something like… this.

Does he know, does he realize, you’re not actually living in the flat now?

He’s really going to kill you this time.

You race to the toilet, heaving yourself over the seat as your breakfast rushes past your lips, a cup of coffee and half eaten muffin accentuated by the sting of bile, and you gag, spitting and hacking until you’re finished, flushing it all away.

You don’t look at the girl in the mirror. You don’t want to see her. Don’t want to tell her all the ways you’re letting her down. She thinks you’re smarter than this, stronger. Braver. She believes you’ve done it once before, you’ve escaped, you’ve hid, and you can do it again.

She doesn’t know you’re not sure you have the heart for it now. She doesn’t realize you’re tired, you’re afraid. She doesn’t understand that you like the life you’ve made, that running is exhausting, that sometimes, in the very darkest corners of your mind, you think that letting him win might be easiest.

So, you don’t look at her. You mourn your pile of panties for a too long second and lock the apartment up tight.

Get it together. Get yourself together.

You coach yourself the entire way to work, trying to ignore the rubbing and bunching of your scrub pants, an unfortunate consequence of being forced to go commando.

Deep breath. You can do this.

You still have your sanctuary.

You had hoped, for a miniscule moment, that your day might improve once you step foot in the hospital, and you pushed away the inkling that suggested that optimism may be linked the fact that you’ll get to see Simon and Johnny, opting not to even acknowledge the strange sensations swirling about inside your heart whenever you think about the other day. The day when the world stood still and Johnny touched your hand so gently, stroking his fingers over your skin, or when the elevator doors parted to reveal Simon and their baby, a sweet baby girl safe in his arms, his eyes alight and adoring, your knees almost giving out at the sight.

Needless to say, you’re eager to badge in.

The day is quickly derailed, when within a half an hour of getting settled into your routine, an alarm goes off for two sixty-eight: thirty-nine degrees.

Your mind immediately somersaults to the pain in his upper right quadrant from your last shift, logical thought leaping all around as you jog down the hall.

You notated it. You passed it on in shift report. It’s only thirty-nine. You did everything right. No one here would just disregard something like that. Deep breath.

Still…

Bile leak. Abscess. Infection. Or worse… hepatic artery pseudoaneurysm, hemorrhaging. Big things that could lead to worse things, worse outcomes, worse-

The door comes up quicker than you realize, and without hesitating, you slip inside.

“Hi.” You’re a little breathless, and Simon’s eyes snap to yours, taking you in, studying from head to toe, brow knitted together. Johnny’s asleep, and you’re not sure if that makes you feel better, or worse.

“Everything alright?” Of course. He’s too perceptive. Get control of yourself, it could be nothing.

“Yeah, I ah… have to draw some blood.” You really do not want to wake your patient, or alarm Simon, but you refuse to lie. You fire off a text to the attending on call, advising him of Johnny’s temperature and reminding him of the upper right quadrant pain, letting him know he can expect labs as soon as you get them downstairs. You give Simon a nod, turning to slide the draw open quietly, pulling out everything you’ll need. His gaze burns a hole in your scrubs, the ever-present scrutiny impossible to escape, and sometimes you wonder if he’s reading your mind.

“What’s wrong? He just fell asleep, Pen was here all morning, tired him out.” His protest is husky, and you think he’s frowning behind the mask. You imagine a strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation; wide jaw gnashed tight with worry.

“He’s running just a bit of a fever.” He jolts, and you shake your head, hoping to soothe his fear. “It’s not too high. I’m not super worried, but we’ll need to check his white cell count, just in case, okay? And then we’ll go from there.” He nods.

“You said this could happen.” You smile. It feels unsteady, but you hope he can’t tell.

“I did. I promised, that if there was something to panic about, I would tell you. We’re not there yet.” It’s not a lie. Your wild spiral from a few minutes ago was an extreme, not reality, and you need to keep your head on.

“Okay.”

“Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what’s going on.” Simon shifts uncomfortably, and you carefully squeeze Johnny's arm, wrapping him with the tie and swabbing the inside of his elbow as fast as possible.

He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he realizes you’re leaning over him, and his gaze darts to Simon before landing back on you. “There’s our bunny.” He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction, and Simon coughs. Loudly. Bunny?

“Such a flirt, MacTavish.” You playfully chastise him, relieved he’s feeling like himself. “I just need to get some blood and then I’ll leave you in peace to sleep.” He shrugs, but Simon rubs a thumb against his thigh in tiny little circles, too fast to be considered comfort, and Johnny clucks. “Ah, come on Si.”

“You’re runnin’ a fever, Johnny.”

“Ach. ‘s nothing.” He brushes it off, but his eyes are slow to track Simon’s movements, and you casually sneak a peek at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.

“Could be.” You assure him, smoothing a hand over his shoulder and taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture. “But better safe than sorry, right?”

The labs are inconclusive. The attending hems and haws before finally asking you to schedule a stat ultrasound of his abdomen, and you manage to bump him to the front of the queue, pulling a few strings here and there by rattling off some bullshit about being higher priority.

In the time it takes for the tech to get to two sixty-eight with the machine, you get a new admission. Intubated, but awake, and getting them and their family squared away takes longer than you would have liked, the patient’s middle-aged husband a wreck of nerves and worry, the kind of anxiety that makes you sit with him in the room for a little while, patting his hand and promising that you’ll be there for them, every step of the way.

By the time you step out of that room, it’s been nearly an hour. You catch a glimpse of Simon in the chairs outside two sixty-eight, and you throw him one of your best work smiles, hoping to reassure him, soothe his nerves. You want to go to him, want to sit beside him and talk him through everything, the outcomes, the possibilities, but you still need to add the notes for your new admit, and-

Someone catches your eye from the end of the hall. It’s a man, white, with brown hair, in regular clothes, and he stands taller than the others around him, shoulders rolled back just- just like-

No. You force yourself to look, to truly see him, taking in his facial features, the slope of his nose, and it’s hardly a second before you’re realizing it’s not who you thought it was. It’s not him.

The second doesn’t matter to your heart. It’s already racing, tripling it’s steady pace inside your chest. You’re shaking, trembling in the middle of the hall, frantically looking for the nearest closet, or empty room, or…

Stairwell. There’s a stairwell just beyond where Simon is anxiously waiting, and you beeline to it, nearly tripping over your own feet past him. You think you hear your name being called, but the blood rushing in your ears is too loud, and you can’t be sure. Either way, it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters right now is getting away. Hiding. Not letting yourself be noticed.

You take the first flight down, stopping on the landing to rest your face against the polished, cold wall, desperately trying to fill your lungs with air, encouraging yourself to breathe.

It wasn’t him. You’re safe.

Deep breath. You can do this.

Your fingers dig into your hips, squeezing through the numbness, through the overwhelming feeling of your impending doom, and your head swims, lightheadedness nearly knocking you off balance.

“It wasn’t him.” You whisper aloud. “It’s not him. You’re safe. Get it together.” You chant, eyes clenched tight. Your heart is still pounding, no sign of relenting, and your lungs burn, screaming inside you, desperate for air. The feeling of suffocating, of dying, grows stronger, gaining momentum, and your eyes slam shut, your mind and body locked in a tomb of panic and fear.

You hear your name again. It’s sharper, authoritative, but you can’t open your eyes, too overwhelmed to even make sense of it. Deep breath, just breathe.

Something touches your shoulder. It’s unexpected, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you register it as gentle, but you’re too far gone, too far buried beneath your fear and your panic and your shame. It triggers you into a defensive posture, and you flinch so hard you jostle yourself into the wall, turning into the corner, hands out in front of your face.

“Hey, hey.” It’s Simon. Simon is standing in the stairwell with you, palms open, concern heavy in his eyes, and you vaguely realize he’s talking, soft, deep words washing over you. “-to breathe?” He comes closer, only half a step, but it’s enough to startle you back into the corner, and he stops short. “It’s alright. I’m not going to touch you.” He soothes, and you recognize the pitch, the calm, affectionate tone from Johnny’s bedside. Sour nausea surges in your stomach, and your lungs fight the invisible hand that tightens around them. “Can you take a deep breath?” You shake your head, and he huffs a soft chuckle. “You can do it, just try. Through your nose, like this.” His chest expands, eye contact never breaking, and you try to follow suit, getting halfway before your head spins, vision tunneling. “You’re alright.”

You’re not alright. None of this is alright. You’re having a panic attack, in the stairwell at your job, in front of a patient’s partner.

You can’t speak, so you shake your head instead. No.

“Yes, you are.” He assures. “Everything’s okay. Focus on your breathing. Try another one for me.” His hand covers his heart, and you focus on the way it ebbs and flows with the movement of his diaphragm, the pace of his breaths.

You manage to get one full inhale and exhale. And then you get another. Then a third, a fourth, until it’s coming easier, and your head doesn’t feel as fuzzy.

“Good job, that’s it.” Your fingers twist together, the grating noise of your jagged breathing smoothing out even more, and Simon nods encouragingly. “You’re doing great, sweetheart. Nice and slow.” Sweetheart. The word is bright, boundless and sweet as honey, the sentiment settling in your belly and growing warm. The two of you stand there, just breathing, staring at one another, for what feels like an eternity, until you find the strength to summon words.

“I-I’m sorry.” You finally choke once you’ve got a better handle on yourself, hands going lax at your thighs.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about.” You’re about to brush it off, thorny lies starting to form in your mind, excuses and carefully crafted explanations fusing together when your work phone beeps, the low frequency different from the ones related to patient care. Shit. Already? Simon’s glances at it in your pocket and cocks his head.

“End of my shift.” You explain, moving towards the stairs, your hand trembling on the button to silence the alarm. The muscles in his neck flex, molars grinding together.

“Still feeling a little shaky?” He observes, and you look down to your feet, mortification crawling up your spine, blooming across your cheeks through heated blood vessels.

“Um…”

“Would you mind, maybe sitting with Johnny for a bit?” You do still have notes to do. “If his test is done? I have to run home, help the Prices' put Penny down. She’s been a bit fickle, lately. Missin’ her Da.” He rubs the back of his neck, chest flexing inside the charcoal grey hoodie, and for a weird, too long second, you wonder what it might be like to fall asleep there, or just close your eyes for a minute, even though it's something sweet and far away, unobtainable in every facet. Simon says your name, jogging your attention, and then takes the first step, partially turning like he wants to reach for you, but thinks better of it.

“Uh. Yeah, I… I can.”

You badge out and grab your stuff, keeping your tablet so you can complete your notes while you sit with Johnny. You’ve already checked his results, and when you slip inside the room, the attending is updating them, explaining how he has a very small bile leak, and will need an endoscopic procedure tomorrow morning.

The attending excuses himself, giving you a quick nod, and then Simon leans down, knocking their foreheads together tenderly.

“Keep an eye on him, I hear he likes to make trouble.” Johnny smiles, pink-red color creeping up his neck into his cheeks, and Simon seems like he’s smiling, before he turns serious. “Behave. I won’t be too long.”

“I always behave.” He pats the side of the bed, beckoning you, and you shake your head, plopping down in the recliner to his right.

“I hear ye’re keepin’ me company, pretty girl?”

“I am. Got some notes to finish, heard this chair was pretty comfortable.” You quip back easily, and it feels natural, to be joking and laughing, to be hiding again.

“Well, I’ll try not to distract ye then.”

Your tablet clicks dark with a satisfying shutter, and when you place it face down, Johnny gives you one of his stupidly handsome smiles. “All finished?”

“Yeah, not too bad.” His phone vibrates against the tabletop, and with his good hand, he opens the message, turning it to show you the screen. It’s a picture of Penny, half asleep against Simon, clad in a pink onesie covered in little ducks. Her cheek is squished against him, long baby lashes fluttering on her skin. “She’s so cute.” You say, and he nods, flushed with pride. You glance at the contact name, Lou, and before you can stop yourself, a question bursts out: “Who’s Lou?”

“Our captain’s wife. She’s been helpin’ a lot, with Pen. Which is great, they’re getting a lot of girl time.”

“Your captain?”

“Aye.”

“Is that…” you want to ask but trail off. You don’t want to admit that you’ve heard gossip about them.

“Military. Simon an’ I work together, in a task force.” A task force. A task force sounds eerily close to special ops, and your nausea comes back with a vengeance.

“What… what kind of task force?”

“Global ops. Anti-terrorism, domestic threats, the lot. How I ended up here, with ye.” The image of your ex looms, his body tense in his gear, or the memory of his boots, sitting shiny by the door, one of them pulling back, swinging towards your stomach. “Bun?” Bun?

“Huh?” you blink. “Oh, sorry. Spaced out there for a second.”

“That’s alright. Simon said ye had a bit of a scare earlier?”

“No I uh, just couldn’t catch my breath, but I was fine. It was fine.” You deflect, moving on as quick as you can manage. “Did you call me bun? And… didn’t you call me bunny, earlier?” He gives you a sheepish look.

“Aye. Is our nickname for ye.”

“Wait, what? Why?”

“Well… ye look a bit like a bunny, and ye had that sticker the other day that Penny noticed.” Your face heats. “I know ye’re probably real soft like a bun, too.” Real soft? Is he… does he mean- your eyes widen, and he smirks.

“Johnny.” You flounder, helplessly, confused by his attention, this flirtation that seems to have grown into real affection, and he shifts slightly, leaning forward, reaching for your hand.

“Ye dinnae need to be afraid.” He coos. The words are a moon above a tide, pulling and reaching, dragging the swell of the waves higher and higher, until they threaten to pull you under, overwhelm you and drown you.

“I…” I don’t understand? I thought you were gay? I don’t know what is happening here? Johnny grimaces, and you immediately forget about the conversation and leap into action, jumping to your feet. “What is it? Where’s your pain?” Your hands hover over his belly, and he points to where his liver currently sits, slowly leaking inside his body, spilling bile that could eventually kill him if it hadn’t been caught. You pull down the blanket, unsnapping his gown to push it aside, checking for anything physically observable, site swelling, a rash, anything. “Does this hurt?” You cautiously press down, tapping slightly, watching his face for a reaction.

“No.” he says, and when you reach over to his other side, turning to watch his facial expressions, he moves with you, barely leaning, chin pointed in your direction.

His face is suddenly incredibly close to your face. And he looks… so handsome. So pretty, with his bright blue eyes and perfect bones, soft lips that part with an inhale. He dazzles you. Distracts you.

This is your patient, get it together. You’re a professional, act like it.

“Does that hurt?” You croak, and his lips quirk into a half smile, a warm palm gliding over the small of your back.

“It doesnae hurt, bun.” He winks.

“Oh my god, were you faking?” You try to stand up, but the pressure on your spine is firm, and he chuckles.

“Can I tell ye a secret?” He’s fully serious now, question whispered just above your ear, and you nod.

“Of course.”

“Ye’v been drivin’ me mad today, pretty girl. Walkin’ around here wit’ no panties on.” Oh. Oh… my god. You shoot upwards, hand covering your mouth in shock, and he laughs, raising an eyebrow before his gaze drifts over the curve of your hip.

“Johnny!” you hiss, scandalized, and then guilt hits you like a train, like two tons of rocks have been dropped on top of you. Simon. “Johnny, you… you and Simon, you’re-“

“We’re lucky ye’ve come into our lives.” He finishes, and you frown, confused. “We think ye’re really special.” We. We?

“What did I miss?” Simon says from the doorway, and you jerk, stepping back like Johnny’s bed is on fire and you’ve just been burnt, eyes wide and wild. You feel like a child, caught with a hand in the cookie jar, but Simon doesn’t look angry. Just curious.

“Jus’ talking.” Johnny replies, and he starts to lower his bed, watching you with heavy eyes.

“Well. I should get going. I’ve got a few trains to make.” You glance at the clock, and then give them both a polite smile. Simon crosses his arms.

“Looks like you tired him out.” He comments, and they glance at one another, some sort of communication happening silently before he shrugs. “Let me drive you.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t. It’s not… you just got back, and I’m fine, really. It’s not that far, I-“

“If it’s not that far, let him drive ye.” Johnny pipes up, and Simon piles on easily.

"He's not going to let this go, and neither am I. Let me get you home safely, please." You shouldn't. You really, really shouldn't. "It's the least we can do." Your shoulders slump in defeat. It’s just a ride. It’s not crossing a line.

“Okay, then.” Johnny smiles, and Simon moves to his side, brushing his mask covered mouth against his forehead.

“She go down okay?” Johnny murmurs, tenderly cupping his cheek.

“Like a champ. Promised I’d bring her tomorrow morning. Think she understood me.”

“Aye. She’s smarter than ye, so probably.” He teases, and they share a lighthearted laugh before Johnny’s bidding you a goodbye, and Simon directs you out the door.

“Uh, right here is fine.” You point to the curb, and Simon slows the car to a stop, turning to face you with that ever-present scrutiny, brows shoved down above his eyes.

“A hotel?” You swallow.

“My um, my flat is being renovated. It’s a whole thing so I just figured I wo-would stay somewhere else.” You want to flee, run out of this car and away from him, but he holds you in place so easily with just his eyes, so you sit there, frozen, one hand on the door handle, the other splayed against your thigh.

“Is everything alright? Earlier-“

“I’m fine.” You rush out, cutting him off. It’s well practiced, the denial, the avoidance, these things that you normally excel out.

But nothing is normal with them.

He cocks his head, and then nods, and you breathe a little easier, turning to push the door open.

“Wait.” A hand tugs at you, thick, warm fingers lightly touching your wrist, and you whip back around to face him, eyes wide. “If you ever need anything, Johnny and I… we’re here.” Why is your heart beating so fast?

“Oh, I uh… I’m fine, I don’t need-“

“That doesn’t work on me. Johnny either, pretty girl.” He tells you, and it’s so firm, so strong backed, that your mouth goes dry, and you gape at him. What? What doesn’t work? Is he… is he saying he doesn’t buy it? Doesn’t believe you? He’s reading your mind, subtly raising an eyebrow, and then nodding. “Put my number in your phone.” He instructs, and like a robot, like a vampire’s Thrall, you pull it from your bag, swiping open the contact list and pressing each number in the order he gives it. “We’ll see you tomorrow?” He asks once you’re finished, and you mumble a shaky yes, finally pushing the door open, and climbing out.

“Alright, well. Good night.” You bend at the waist, giving him a wave through the window, and his jaw moves beneath the mask, shifting to the side, eyes squinting at the corners. He's smiling.

“Good night, bunny.”

#peaches writes #simple math #ghost x reader x soap #ghost x soap x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #ghoap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #soap x ghost

1K notes · View notes

biteofcherry · 1 year

Text

Nature’s beauty

mountain rescuer Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: Your teasing comment about staying home barefoot and pregnant makes something in Steve snap. He’s now eager to turn it into reality.

warnings: consensual; barebacking; breeding kink; housewife kink; light bondage; dubiously consensual taking of risky pictures; lots of filthy talk (not even dirty, just nasty filth); mention of cumplay; established relationship; Steve’s a rescuer but who will rescue us from Steve’s hotness;

*no squirrels were harmed in the process of writing the story

“Come on. Get out of there!” You huffed, tapping your fingers against the wood of the small birdhouse installed high on the tree trunk.

It was a birdhouse - and just this morning you saw a small, colorful bird check it out - but some sneaky, red squirrel decided to squat inside it. How did it even fit through the tiny hole, you had no idea.

You noticed it as you returned from your little hike, seeing a flash of an orange fluffy tail as the squirrel stuffed its tiny butt through the hole. So you tried climbing the tree, not much successfully, and scare the intruder out.

It wouldn’t be a good house for a growing squirrel anyway.

To prop yourself, you used one of the wooden crates Steve built you for the vegetable garden that you planned on starting. Since it wasn’t enough to reach the birdhouse, you stuck another crate on top of it. The construction swayed a little, but you braced yourself against the tree trunk and reached your hand up to knock on the small wooden house.

“Your nuts won’t fit in there with you!” You called, though it was doubtful the squirrel would understand you.

The crates wobbled, but before you had a chance to stabilize yourself with both hands on the tree two strong hands gripped your hips and easily lifted you up.

“And what do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?” Steve’s steady voice calmed your initial panic.

You melted into his embrace as he set you down on your feet on the ground and spun around to face him. Your immediately wrapped your arms around his neck, straining on your tiptoes to greet him with a kiss.

He’s been gone for nearly two days - his usual shift stretching longer due to a crisis his team had to react to in the higher parts of the mountains.

“Steve.” You breathlessly whispered his name, smile stretching on your lips.

So close to the way you looked and sounded when he woke you up with his mouth between your thighs.

“You’re back.” You pecked his lips once again then grinned. “Just in time for eviction.”

“Eviction?” Steve’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“A squirrel locked herself inside the birdhouse. We need to chase her away. For her own good.” You pointed up at the tree where few weeks ago Steve installed the birdhouse.

With a shake of his head and an overly dramatic sigh, Steve went to his truck to get his backpack with the climbing gear. He put the crates away - sending you a warning glare for coming up with a dangerous idea of putting your safety on top of them - then tied a rope around the tree to have a leverage for climbing. He reached the birdhouse exceptionally quickly.

Once he brought it down, you opened the front panel and shooed the squirrel away. It looked at you indignantly, holding a nut in its tiny paws, then scrambled away onto another tree near your house.

“I see you got into serious animal real estate business, even though you only got back home yourself.” Steve chuckled, pointing at your small backpack and the camera placed a few feet away.

“I went to the valley to take some shots of the early crocuses.” You beamed, picking up your things.

“But!” You kept close to Steve as you both walked up the porch and into the house. “I prepared a stew earlier and some garlic bread slices that are ready to pop into the oven.”

“Wow. You’re organized like a proper housewife.” Steve snickered, patting your ass.

“Yeah?” You glanced at him over your shoulder, waggling your eyebrows comically. “You gonna keep me barefoot and pregnant?”

“We can have that arranged.” Steve wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you to him. He kicked the door shut behind you and dropped his backpack to the floor.

“Ah-ah!” You quickly slipped away from his grasp.

You turned around with a grin, mischievous sparks lighting your eyes. You lifted the camera and clutched it protectively to your chest.

“Gotta put the fragile goods into safety first, before you go all patriarchal on me.”

“You’ll never forgive me that vase, won’t you?” Steve hung his head in shame, but he couldn’t suppress the proud smirk on his face.

The pretty, pink glass vase became a collateral damage when the two of you resolved a minor argument with hot, angry sex.

Steve bent you over the table and fucked you so hard that your hands flailed helplessly around and you knocked the vase off the table. As the glass shattered all over the floor, you gushed around Steve’s cock with a scream that surely carried through the mountain range.

“That orgasm was worth the sacrifice.” You laughed, disappearing into the bedroom.

“But my camera is too precious to risk it!” The cottage you and Steve were living in wasn’t tiny, but small enough that your voice easily reached other parts of the house if you raised your volume a bit.

“Duly noted!” Steve called back.

He walked into the kitchen where the faint smell of stew lingered in the air. He sat down on one of the chairs and bent down to unlace his shoes, smiling to himself as he thought of you cooking and dancing around the kitchen.

You were quite messy when you cooked, even worse when you baked. But there was no hotter sight than you naked on your knees on the tiled floor, with smears of flour on your face and then his cum dribbling down your chin.

Suddenly, provoked by your recent words, an image of you walking around the kitchen pregnant flashed through Steve’s head.

He saw you glowing and round, cutting strawberries with a smile as he whisked the batter for pancakes. You’d snack on the strawberries, claiming to be hungry and impatient to wait for breakfast. He’d take the fruit from you with a laugh, lick the sticky juice off your fingers. Then go on his knees to pleasure you until you can’t stand upright anymore.

He imagined you bent over the sink, hands in soapy water from washing dishes, as he fucked you slowly from behind - unable to keep his hands away from your pregnant belly, needing to take you as soon as he comes home from his shift.

He easily pictured you carrying a toddler on your hip, bouncing the kid lightly as you walk barefoot around the house, the swell of your belly growing with another baby.

You’d take the kids to the meadows, play with them and take stunning photographs of the nature and of the kids exploring its beauty. You’d chase away squirrels and tend to your vegetable garden - happiness radiating off your faces. You’d cook meals and try new baking recipes, and you all would eat together.

And later in the evening, when he puts the oldest kid to bed and you nurse the newborn baby to sleep, he’d take you again.

Fill you full through your needy cries, letting the nature take its course with your body as well.

Steve was so deep in this unexpected rush of craving he didn’t hear your soft footsteps at first. Only when you called his name upon entering the kitchen did he look up.

There you were - feet bare on the floor, your pants replaced with soft, cotton pajama shorts, and in his t-shirt which you liked to wear around the house.

All that was missing from the fantasy was your pregnant belly stretching the fabric of the tee.

Steve crooked a finger at you, wordlessly calling you over.

You noticed the heat in his gaze, how wider his pupils got and that his lips were slightly parted on a quickened breath. It was a look signaling some mindblowing pleasure coming your way, though you weren’t exactly sure what caused it at the moment.

You walked over, straddling Steve’s lap and placing your hands on his shoulders. His palms spread over your ass, fingers kneading your flesh and forcing you to rock against him.

Against his undoubtedly growing, impressive erection.

“I feel that you’re really happy to see me.” You grinned at Steve, but couldn’t help yourself from rubbing against him.

“Always.” Steve muttered and kissed you.

His lips were soft, but the way he used them was anything but gentle. He took possession of your mouth, tongue slipping between your parted lips to tease a moan out of your throat.

Your fingers weaved into his hair, fingernails scratching his scalp and causing Steve to purr.

He gave your asscheek a smack. Not exactly painful, but firm enough to elicit a squeak out of you and have you buck against him.

“I want to fuck you bare.” Steve growled, hips pushing up into you.

“Wha-” your mouth was still chasing his lips, your mind not yet fully catching up with his request.

Steve gave your ass another slap and tilted his head back, so your gaze focused on his eyes and what he was saying.

“I want to fuck you bare.” He repeated, his voice low and raspy with dark need.

“I want to fill you up and breed you.”

You shivered at his words. Your nipples tightened into hard peaks and your clit throbbed.

“You’re serious.” Your voice came out breathless, your throat suddenly dry.

Steve and you talked about having kids before, but it was all vague; nothing beyond agreeing that you wanted to build a family together, sometime. In the far future.

Since it was a unspecified future and your health didn’t allow for you to take pills or hormonal shots, Steve always had a strip of condoms at hand. Even in the spur of the moment quickies on your hikes, he always sheathed himself. You never took him bare.

Never felt him fill your pussy with his cum.

“What’s that thought, sweetheart?” Steve leaned forward and nipped your bottom lip when you let out an involuntary moan at the thought of being full of him.

“We’ve never done it bare.” You rubbed your heated core over his clothed cock. “I only had your cum in my mouth, or on my body.”

Corner of Steve’s mouth tilted in a smirk. He slid one of his hands to grip the back of your neck as he licked a wide stripe from your throat over your chin and up to your lips.

“I promise to still let you play with my cum from time to time, doll.” He kissed you again.

With your big eyes full of wonder, you always liked him to paint your body with white streaks of his spent. You stuck your little tongue out, swallowed him greedily, and scooped up every drop from your skin.

“But from now on, we’ll mostly fill your sweet cunt with it.”

You felt his dick twitch beneath you as he said those words. You felt your own panties and shorts dampen with your growing slick.

“What do you say, sweetheart?” Steve nudged the tip of your nose with his affectionately. “Want to get pregnant?”

“Pregnant and barefoot?” You huffed a breathy laugh, realizing it was your own words from earlier today that spurred Steve’s desire.

“Well, some days are really cold out here, so I think we can skip the barefoot part.” He smiled against your lips. “But we’re definitely doing the pregnant part.”

You were constantly grinding against him, your breasts pressed and rubbed against Steve’s chest. Growing heat consumed you and you wanted, needed, Steve to sate the fire he ignited. You felt as if your body wouldn’t calm down until he spilled inside you, like he promised.

“Yes!” You captured Steve’s mouth, clinging to him even closer.

“Yes, Steve!” You head fell back as he kissed and bit down your throat. “Fuck a baby into me!”

In rushed moves, surprisingly efficient considering how both of you were trembling with impatience, you undid Steve’s pants and took him into your hand. He pushed your shorts and panties to the side.

You both moaned as you slid down his cock. The feel of his hot flesh without the latex cover made your toes curl.

It was quick and brutal, really; your thighs burned as you bounced up and down on his length. A tearing sound, as Steve yanked on your t-shirt, didn’t falter your pace.

Your climax came as dizzying, filling the house with your scream and Steve’s loud groan following soon after.

Nothing but the pounding of your hearts and heavy breathing, as you sat tangled and spent. A little mewl of surprise bubbled on your lips when you felt Steve’s cock twitching and spurting more of hot come inside your fluttering walls.

It was hotter and wetter than how it felt ever before; and the thought of Steve’s cum filling up through your cervix made your pussy clench around him.

When you slid off him a while later, a thick dollop of cum dribbled out of you. Steve put your panties back in place, cotton quickly filling and staining with the mixture of juices.

“That won’t do.” Steve frowned, as he pulled the waistband of your panties and glanced at the mess between your swollen folds.

“You’re dripping it all over and it has to take.”

Before you had a chance to ask what he meant - your brain fuzzy from the aftershocks and bliss - Steve picked you up.

He carried you to the bedroom and dropped you onto the bed. He got his t-shirt over his head in a split of a second, then moved your pliant body around, getting rid of all of your clothes as well.

“Stay here.” He pointed at you and walked out of the bedroom.

You did enjoy the view of his naked ass moving. As well the way muscles in his back flexed.

When Steve returned, he had three climbing ropes in his hands.

“What are you planning mister rescuer?” You arched a brow.

He merely winked at you, joining you on the bed and straddling you. He weaved the blue cord around your wrists, binding them to the headboard. One of the red ropes tied around your left ankle; the other around the right.

You expected Steve to tie your legs to the foot of the bed, but instead he bent your legs at the knees and pushed them up toward your chest and slightly to the sides. The ends of the rope he tied to the headboard as well.

Once he was done, your breath was quickened again, as your vulnerable exposed position registered.

“Now,” Steve knelt back and ran a finger up your ass, “all my cum will stay nicely snug in your pussy.”

He scooped whatever dribbled out of you and pushed it back into your quivering cunt. He was right. In this improvised bondage version of a mating press, your hips were tilted up enough for the gravity to work in favor of impregnation.

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve looked at you, love and desire shining in his eyes.

From your gorgeous face, hair sticking to your sweaty skin; your breasts shaking with each breath and your lovely legs strained and bound; to your gorgeous ass and glistening, swollen folds.

A thick trickle of his cum lingered just below your leaking hole. He moved his hand slowly up your ass, reaching up to push that one drop back inside you.

“I wish I could preserve this image forever.” He murmured.

Then paused.

Slowly, Steve’s gaze shifted from your pussy to your face. His eyes darkened and a naughty, evil really, smirk curved his mouth.

“What are you thinking, Steve?” You asked warily, partly scared of his wicked idea and partly excited.

Steve got off the bed, but returned rather quickly.

With your camera in his hands.

“You can’t be serious.” You squeaked, squirming against your bonds. But they were fucking secured top notch, you were unable to even pull your legs closer together.

“Why not?” Fingers of his left hand returned to your heated skin while he held the camera in his right hand. “You take photographs of nature. What’s more natural than this?”

He traced one of your swollen folds and pulled it slightly to the side, exposing your hole and the white cream filling it.

A shutter clicked. First photo of your pussy saved on the memory card.

Steve took a few more photos, from different angles. Some close-ups of his cum, some a wider perspective including your stretched body visible between your spread legs.

He moved closer, kneeling up and positioning his hardened cock between your sopping folds.

He moaned as he watched his dick slide back and forth; looked up at your face and held your gaze when you whimpered as the head of his cock bumped against your swollen clit repeatedly.

“What’s more natural than a pretty cunt serving its purpose?” Steve rasped out, guiding the tip into your opening.

He angled the camera again, snapping a picture of your pussy opening up for him. Then a series of photos as he slowly pushed inside.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re taking me so good.” Steve bit down on his lip as he thrust deeper. “Such a fucking beautiful sight.”

He flipped the camera function to video, recording as he buried himself in your wet cunt. Your wrecked moan at the stretch, too. And the squelching sound of a filled pussy.

Steve’s free hand rested on your mound, thumb drawing the hood over your clit up and then resting on the hardened nub. Your hips bucked when he started rubbing.

He tilted the camera up, making sure to register all of your body before focusing on your face. You whined his name aloud.

When you noticed the camera pointed at you, you closed your eyes and turned your head to the side embarrassed.

“Don’t be shy on me, sweetheart.” Steve cooed, maintaining a steady pace. “You’re stunning. Absolutely fucking gorgeous. And your pretty, little pussy-”

He returned the lens between your spread thighs, recording every detail of his cock driving into you.

His dick shined with your juices and remnants of his cum. Your folds were puffed and darkened, and your clit crushed under his big thumb. Your wetness smeared around, glistening on your ass and thighs, as well shimmering on the hair above Steve’s cock.

“She’s swallowing me, doll. Greedy, little pussy.” Steve growled, picking up his rhythm.

“What she’s hungry for, sweetheart? Huh?” Though his hand was shaking slightly, he managed to move the camera so it was recording your face again.

“Tell me, what she’s hungry for?” He delivered a firm smack atop your clit that made you squeak and clench around him.

“It’s hungry for your cum!” You cried out.

You felt the heat engulf you whole, felt it almost burn the skin off your cheeks from the inside.

Steve always had a penchant for dirty talk, but it wasn’t always as nasty. Just a few lines here and there. Something about fucking you bare, trying to knock you up, made him wilder. And he forced you to interact along with him.

“Wants to be filled?” Steve’s raspy voice prompted again, another slap stinging your clit.

“It wants to be filled so bad!” Your need overcame the embarrassment.

With your eyes still closed, you babbled all the filth you were shy to admit, but everything you knew Steve wanted to hear.

“Wants you to fuck it hard and come inside. Please, Steve. Need you- Need you to make me take it! Fill my belly and make it swell!”

“Fuck, sweetheart.” Steve nearly came at the sputter of your dirty words. “My sweet, fucking, dirty girl.”

He put the camera down on the side of the bed. He didn’t bother to switch it off.

It recorded a slightly blurred angle of Steve’s hips driving into you, his balls slapping against your butt as he leaned fully on top of you and bottomed out.

It recorded the sounds of your bodies - wet squelching, skin slapping, Steve’s heavy groans and your high pitched cries; and filthy demands.

“I know you’re close, sweetheart.” Steve stretched himself over you and propped his weight on his forearms on both sides of your head.

“I am! I am, I’m so close, Steve!”

Your body wanted to move along with his, to rock up into him and touch him, but your tied limbs prevented you from doing so. You could only lay there and take whatever Steve gave you. However he gave it.

“I’ll get you there, I promise.” He nipped along your jaw, lavishing each sting with a lick of his tongue. “First, though-” he paused to kiss you fully.

A surprisingly thorough kiss, considering how frantically his hips were pumping you.

Steve’s voice turned into a low, gravelly growl.

“Tell me your purpose, my sweet fuck doll.”

So close to the edge that your toes were curling, you weren’t resilient enough to fight for more dignity. You knew what hot, humiliating words Steve fished for.

And you knew you could scream them out, because once he untied you and you left the bedroom, Steve would respect you like he always did. He would worship the ground you walk on and cherish you. Give you the stars, if he could.

“My p-purpose-” your voice choked on a moan as Steve angled his hips, driving his cock into that spongy, oversensitive spot inside you.

With a whine you dropped your gaze down, unable to look right into Steve’s eyes as you cried out the words.

“To be bred! Fuuuuck. To be bred and have your babies! Be y-your, ah, little housewife. To serve you, serv- Fuck! Steve!”

“I got you, sweetheart.” Steve groaned, leaning his forehead against yours.

He slowed his pace, but each snap of his hips drove his cock into you deep and rough. Skilled, coarse fingers maneuvered between your bodies, finding your clit.

A few strokes over your nub combined with the incessant pounding into your sweet spot were enough to push you over the edge.

You clenched your hands around the ropes that tied your wrists to the headboard as you shattered. Steve’s choked, low moans lost in the sound of your keening, as he came right after you.

Steve dragged his lips across your cheek toward your lips. Kissed you slowly, and wet. Your ragged breaths mingled, a string of saliva stretching between your mouths and popping.

He remained buried inside you, his cock twitching and spurting more cum into your clenching channel.

“I fucking love you.” Steve breathed heavily, a huff of chuckle at the end of his confession.

“Mhmm. I love you, too.” You opened your eyes halfway. “You perv.”

You both laughed, a quiet, intimate sound between lovers that knew each other to the tiniest bone.

With a displeased groan, Steve pushed himself up. He was careful as he sat back, not wanting to slip out of your pussy too quickly.

His gaze focused on your joined bodies as he withdrew inch by inch. His cock glistened with thick cream; your walls fluttered at the friction. He admired your open hole for a moment then squeezed your puffed folds between his fingers.

“Gotta keep it in, sweetheart.” Steve tugged on your folds lightly, keeping them pinched between his fingers.

“I could make you come again. Help your pussy swallow more of it into your womb.” His eyes, still hazy with desire, drifted back to your face.

You groaned. Your cunt clenched at the mere idea of another orgasm shattering your body.

“How about we leave it as it is for now?” You wiggled your butt as much as you could in your restraints. “You can do more nasty things to me in the upcoming days.”

Because you knew if you allowed Steve to make you come again now, he’d use his mouth. And if he used his mouth, he would switch into the overstimulation mindset - he always did that when he went down on you.

You were plenty ruined today without that.

“As you wish.” Steve sighed, with exaggerated disappointment.

“But I’m keeping your legs tied up for a bit longer.” He announced, releasing your folds and patting them less than gently.

You squeaked and glared at him, but it only made him grin.

“Better untie my hands.” You said, making a comically frowny face. “So I can call for the mountain rescuing service to save me from a brutal bear’s captivity.”

Steve laughed and plopped down on his ass, then stretched himself on the bed crosswise. He reached for the camera and finally turned recording off.

He did switch to a browsing mode, though.

“Stop working yourself up again!” You reprimanded him when you realized why Steve moaned suddenly. “Untie me and bring me food.”

“Isn’t it your purpose to serve me food, little housewife?” Steve propped himself on his elbows and looked at you with a cheeky grin.

“Can’t do that while I’m bound.” You smiled sweetly.

Steve moved up and leaned over you, untying the ropes around your hands in two swift moves. He rubbed the skin on your wrists then placed a soft kiss on each.

“Hmm, brutal bear has to think of ways to keep you full and still able to do your housewife duties.” He winked at you.

“Yes, yes, can you think of that while we’re eating?” You rolled your eyes.

As on cue, your stomach rumbled.

“You stew here.” Steve moved down your body and kissed your abdomen, then hopped off the bed. “I’ll reheat everything. Want some wine, too?”

Slipping his pants back on, Steve left the bedroom. And you inside it.

With your legs still up and spread, your hips tilted up and cum brewing in your cunt.

“Are you fucking serious?!” You yelled after him.

His response was an impudent snicker.

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